#because yeah he's a big serious cat on the surface

[the-blazing-light]

Some random Arengar facts I've kinda just. Accumulated and I need to throw them Somewhere jdfhgjhdfg

Arengar is, a lot more unhinged at times than a lot of people expect this big, serious charr with a severe case of resting bitch face to be. He can be quite reckless and is actually extremely curious, curiosity might've killed the cat but it didn't kill this charr yet. He is also willing to eat, pretty much anything. Not something surprising given he's the commander but when this 8 feet tall charr you've come to see as extremely serious and reasonable just completely devours weird-smelling soup some creepy lady in the swamp gave to him with absolutely no second thought and asks if she has more you start getting concerned.

To expand on the first one, Arengar's also got an utterly deadpan, sarcastic sense of humour. Half the time he delivers his jokes in a way that makes people question whether he's actually serious or not. Canach actually gets Arengar's sense of humour very well and appreciates it a lot.

One thing Arengar learned in Elona is that he absolutely loves coffee. That said his way of consuming coffee is definitely. Very Charr because what he does is mix like ten shots of espresso and down them all at once.

[dragonsareourfuture]

Ways the Death Note Cast Show They Trust You

I lost some inspiration towards the middle there, I’m sorry!!

L

- he will always have Watari make extra servings of food just for you. It’s a bit startling at first. So suddenly there’s just food in front of you that you think is for L, but when you push it towards him, he pushes it right back to you.

“You don’t want it?” He’d ask, leaving you confused until you finally put the pieces together.

“Oh, I…I guess I didn’t realize it was for me. My bad.” You begin eating. “Thank you.”

L simply hums and continues with whatever he was just up to.

- You know that thing cats do where they’re sitting perfectly still, eyes closed, guard slightly down, but still not quite asleep? I can picture L doing something like this during any moment of downtime he gets. Just sitting, scrunched up in his chair or wherever he happens to be, eyes closed but the cogs in his brain are still turning. You notice him doing this when it is only you and him in the room, simply thinking it’s because of the moment of rare solitude. Little do you know, it’s because he trusts that you won’t hurt him or let anything bad happen to him.

- L is a person who prefers to be in charge of his own life. He likes knowing what’s going on around him at all times and when things are out of his hands he can’t help but feel uncomfortable. However, with a person he’s developed a close relationship with and knows he can trust with everything he has, L will feel more comfortable leaving decisions up to them. You’ll have to start small though, like being the one to plan a surprise date. He might feel a bit uncomfy at the beginning, shifting around and possibly even insisting he sit so that he can see the exits clearly, but he eases into it eventually. Soon you both find yourselves joking around in the odd way that you do and gorging on cake and ice cream.

Mello

- being vulnerable is something Mello isn’t too keen on. He already feels vulnerable most of the time and would kick himself if he let that show through his actions. If Mello truly trusts you, he will feel as though he can be vulnerable around you without any judgement on your end. Small acts that show vulnerability such as asking you to help him with something he can’t quite handle on his own — even if it’s something as simple as not being able to reach something off a shelf or being unsure about how to fix something. Eventually, he’ll work his way up to the bigger stuff like being physically wounded in front of you or having a mental block.

- Sharing his clothes with you or letting you pick his outfit for him. Now, it sounds like he’s just being a little diva and that’s only partially true. But his clothes are important to him, they’re a factor that sets him aside from his plain-dressing rival and in his eyes they make him more interesting than him, visually at least. He’s happy to dress you up, and it is true that he has to have a close relationship with you to want to do so, but you should be especially proud if he lets you alter his appearance in any way.

- He likes to believe that he’s had his goals set out from the beginning. Surpass Near, become the next L, and go on from there. What he pushes to the back of his brain are the moments he’s been studying and he’s asked himself ‘What if I went down a different path?’. He quickly pushes these thoughts away, but they keep coming back. What would life be like if this wasn’t an option for him? What if he were a writer? What if he lived in the city with people he loves and went to the movies every Friday? Unwillingly, he has a whole list of possibilities. If he truly trusts you, he’ll share every single one with you. Whether it’s dropping hints or confessing them one by one late at night, he can’t help but feel that they’re safe with you.

Misa

- it seems a bit surface level, but it’s true — Misa will talk down on Light in front of you if she trusts you. But it’s not straight away. She had developed a lot of courage to actually break up with him, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t still doubt her decision to do so. It’s only when she finds out from you how loved ones are supposed to treat each other — with kindness and respect — that she feels her decision to ditch Light was the entirely right one. Slowly, she’ll start to admit to you all the things she hated about Light, starting with some of his mannerisms and building up to something like how he forced her to leave the entertainment business.

- Misa is…dramatic. She likes to go above and beyond for someone she’s infatuated with and make sure they’re the happiest they can be. If she trusts you enough to develop this kind of infatuation and, with some development, less of an obsession and more of a strong, bonding love, you will be doted on to the point where it’s almost ridiculous. You could be at home during one of her work days and you’ll get a delivery of lunch from your favorite takeout place because Misa was ‘thinking of you <3’, as she explains when you text her asking why food randomly showed up at your place. It’s rather sweet.

- Misa’s a pretty talkative person in general, that’s a well known fact. She’ll talk about clothes, a cute birdie she saw on her way home, really anything that comes to mind. But, she’ll do that with about anyone who’ll listen. It’s gradual, so it’s hard to notice, but if Misa grows to trust you she’ll start talking about some of the more serious things that have been on her mind for a while, those things that she thought would scare off anyone she liked because of how personal they are to her. Her family before they died, for example. It’s something that Misa thinks about. So much. But she doesn’t really talk about it. She wants to forget, put the past behind her but because she’s never talked about it with anyone it’s hard to do that. She’ll talk about her family to you, the little things her sister used to do and some things her parents did that she misses.

Matsuda

- Matsuda often begins to idolize those who he thinks are trustworthy and have a good heart. He starts to tell you how much he loves when you do x and that he wishes he could perform as well as you in that area. In a sense, he trusts you with his vulnerability, letting you know that he thinks of himself as less than satisfactory and how he wishes he could do better, only he channels it by pointing out good things about you. If…that makes sense.

- This sounds dire, but he’ll risk his life for the people he completely, without a doubt trusts. He was willing to do so with Chief Yagami, someone he saw as a father figure, and he would certainly be willing to do so with you, someone who he feels he has a deep emotional connection to. Whether you’re in a situation where he would need to or he’s just saying that he would, he means it.

- Matsuda trusts you to not make fun of him when he overshares or talks too much or anything his coworkers brush him off for. He feels that he can talk about things he finds funny and talk about his life without worrying about what you think of him when he does.

Matt

- he would drop everything to help you. Whether that’s dropping his game to help you kill a bug or leaving his duties behind to help you out of a life or death situation. Whichever scenario you happen to find yourself in he’s there no matter what.

- He’ll invite you into his personal life. I know this is kind of a given but Matt had the chance to become the next L. He had the chance to become something “great” and he said “ummm rather not” to it because it wasn’t something he wanted. If he shares this information with you, he trusts you not to leave him for something better when you discover the status he could have had and refused. He trusts you to appreciate him because of him and not the intelligence everyone but him cherishes.

- He leaves you alone around important technology and software he’s hacked. Unfortunately for him, betrayal comes with the business he’s got himself into and, if Matt really trusts you on both a professional and emotional level, he won’t have a problem worrying about whether or not you’ll take advantage of his coffee break to gather information for some other organization or something. He will literally just go “mkay babe I gotta go fuel up on caffeine real quick, you’re good watching the hacked government database right? Cool cya.”

Near

- Near trusts you to take him to public places. Sounds simple, yeah. But Near has never liked crowds, or even just too many strangers in a wide open place. It’s strange to everyone observing how one day he decides he needs a new toy, his old one having broken due to old age, and asks you to take him to the toy store. He’s questioned, people wondering why he wouldn’t rather you just go alone but Near insists. Apparently the toy that broke is special addition and he wants to make sure you get the right one. He stays close to you the whole way, not really saying much, but he’s there and that’s a big step for him.

- He helps you out with puzzles. Basically cheats for you. When he’s eyeing one specific empty slot, coughing lightly to get your attention, just know that he’s not helping you because he thinks you need it. Quite the opposite actually. With anyone else, he believes that they should be able to solve it on their own. He thinks that if they can’t, then that’s their fault. But with you…it’s as if he trusts that you’re intelligent enough without the puzzle being an indicator of that intelligence, so much so that he thinks the puzzle itself is obsolete when it comes to you. He doesn’t need a puzzle to know how smart you are.

- He’ll eat the foods you make him. Near’s picky eater-ness is above that of a child who only eats chicken tenders and pizza. He doesn’t eat that many people’s food because he knows it’s probably not he way he likes it. But with you, he trusts that you respect his eating habits and know him well enough to get it right the first time. Though he does check the food out for a bit, he’ll eat it. Sometimes all of it. Fuckin astonishing to Rester who had attempted many times to heat up microwave dinners for the guy.

[mochikeiji]

Looking Like U Got Me

Request: "Prompt no. 56 and 55 for Gojo ＼(^o^)／"

55. "You look like my husband/wife"

56. "Keep doing that and I'll marry you faster"

↠ Pairing: Gojou Satoru x Reader

↠ Warning: none! Simply fluff

↬ Word Count: 1.7k

↠ a/n: i accidentally mixed up prompts 55 and 57 ;-; but still hoping this turns out good!!

↳ from Go! Go! Gogatsu Event!

All he wanted was to wake up in bed, next to you— who would cuddle deeper in his arms even in slumber so he'd smother you with his kisses and tighten his hold around you and drift back to sleep longer, finally free of responsibilities for once and enjoy quality time with his only favorite person. But instead he wakes up with a groan passing through his lips, supporting his back side with his hand while shuffling to his side in a different position as the light sun rays shun through the window blinds, softly fanning his eye and forehead.

Gojo chuckles a bit before wincing. His lower back so tensed that he feels himself get older by the day. Pouting at the empty space next to him, he palms the cold sheet in wonder of where you are. Up so early in the morning when you could've just stayed in for him. How annoying. His eyes shut for moment when the scent coming from outside the room intruded his senses. Ah, you must be cooking breakfast. How sweet of you.

Thank goodness it wasn't another batch of dried crackers or cup of noodles that'll enter his mouth. He was never one to cook meals when he was on solo or when you weren't around. The very thought of not only the meal was awaiting for him outside, but also you excites him that it made him feel tingly inside. Call it dramatic, yeah, but it's not every day someone gets to wake up and immediately feel this full of love in the morning. You were the only and last love he's ever wanted to have in this world. It was so surreal even to him.

Sighing before pushing himself up, Gojo yawns out the remains of drowsiness in his system and stands. He didn't bother wearing a shirt since last night, claiming that he misses how his body rubs off yours in both comforting and suggestive ways. Plus it was just you and him home, he'd rather walk naked than wear the usual long sleeved uniform on a warm day.

The scent of coffee got stronger as he closes in his journey towards the kitchen. There was faint sizzling coming from the pan as you stood there in attendance. Stuck in your own little world, swaying to the sound of the radio playing, U got Me by Yung Heazy. It was one of the few songs that reminded you of Gojo back when you were both high schoolers. The exact song you remembered playing when you both hung out on a small cafe in Tokyo. Where he was so flustered, attempted to hide his blushes with his round glasses. The little things that reminded you of that memory never fails to make your heart race.

Of course Gojo knows this one as well. Because it was on that date as well he had call you, "his" after masking his embarrassment and from obviously checking you out every minute. How could he contain himself? He was a young man who was having trouble in the arts of love. Nevertheless he was glad to have grown up from those years. If his younger self could see him now, he'd be gagging at the sight of a softer version of his older self.

Snaking his arms around your torso carefully to avoid surprising you, he places his chin above your shoulder. Salivating at the sight of thick bacon in deep frying, shamelessly letting you know he was hungry from the sound of his stomach growling. "This is a nice way to greet me." you smile at the man behind you, who had his eyes closed in delight while rubbing his cheek against yours like a cat in need of attention. "Good morning to you as well, sweet cheeks." he says after  pressing a kiss on your skin.

"You got up early." whining softly, his hair and nose tickling the side of your neck and shoulder, "I was hoping to stay longer y'know?" trailing his hands underneath the his shirt you were wearing, mapping out on all the skin he could squish and hold with his large palms. Noticeably pressing himself closer to your body, the much needed space gone but you weren't complaining. After all, this was Gojo, a man who knows no boundaries.

"I wanted to make breakfast for you. We haven't had one together since we're both busy." you say as you grabbed the nearby plate, turning off the stove as the now cooked meal sizzles softly from the pan before sliding down to the porcelain surface. In attempt to lick his lips at the now prepared food, his tongue grazes upon your skin, sending you to jolt a bit, hearing the joyous laughter from him as he places a kiss on the spot as an apology.

"W-why don't you go sit down, there's rice bowls and cooked eggs prepared already." stammering, you quickly excused yourself away from his embrace to clean out the mess from the counter. Gojo sighs out the adoration but obliges to your command. Not long after you had finally settled down in front of him. Seeing him in all smiles as he scarfs down on his food made you smile as well. Thank goodness his blindfold was off, they looked adorable twinkling in happiness.

This felt nice. To have an opportunity to be a normal couple once again. So many times you could only daydream of scenarios like this. He could say the same as now that you were present on the usual spot he'd come home to empty. Often dozing off during meetings thinking of where you were or how you were, the multiple times Megumi has fed up with his whining about how he never gets to see or have more time with you. Nobara even pointed out a fact saying, "You act as if you're both married." and Yuuji, being the happy child of the three had said something that always ponder in his mind, "Why don't you marry each other yet, sensei?"

It was a statement he's been considering for a long time. Marriage. Of course Gojo wanted to marry you after years of torment love. To have his precious students say that you both already looked as if you were married got him all heart racing, and very very happy. He's had vivid images of a life with you. Not far from what it is today, but imagine. Unlimited happiness after so long of fearing it. Perhaps maybe even tiny legs running around, giving him such big love as his grows for the family he's craved, watching you smile beside the doorway and calling them in for a meal.

If marrying you means he can have that every day, then the hell with it.

"You look like my wife."

The spoon drop echoes. Slowly his face erupted into a faint blush while staring back at your widened eyes and opened mouth. "What?" gulping down the stuck food in your throat, Gojo bites his lips watching you maintain your composure. So cute. "Y-you know you say funny stuff when you're out of it. Maybe some daifuku would help? Yeah! Wait a sec." quickly getting up from your seat and rummaging in your fridge, you breathed out the heavy puff of air from your lungs.

He did not just say that so directly towards you. Maybe you were dreaming? You wouldn't be if your heart wasn't practically being forced out. Gojo is always fun and games, right? He doesn't mean that.

Sad to think of it that way.

"Ow!" thumping your head above the fridge as you grabbed some of the take outs of Daifuku you got yesterday, closing the fridge back before returning shortly to Gojo, who seemed as out of it as you were. "You did say your brain functions best when you eat sweets. Luckily for you I bought these yesterday. That's why I cooked earlier now because I wanted to try it out with you!"

Gojo can't tell if he wants to be offended at the fact that you think he was joking or just now, cover his half of his face to hide his laughter and igniting squeals. God he wished he had his phone right now, the moment was just so priceless and precious as you were.

"...ter"

Muffles from behind his hand was heard. Tilting your head to the side, trying to process what he said but no avail. "What was that?" you moved a little closer next to him, tapping his hand away almost eagerly. When he does, you spot that knowing smile present on his lips and the uncharacteristic blush still painted on his cheeks.

"Keep doing that and I'll marry you faster, honey."

You've gotten more shy when his hand held yours in the most loving way while drawing patterns. Searching through his eyes if he was playing around, but you were met with ones you know of when they were full of sincerity. "I-i. You know, they were so cheap anyways and I figured you'd want them." he snorts before leaning his head on your arm and laughs hysterically. It was painfully obvious that you were in state of shock that you couldn't even process his words.

Up until now the effect he has on you was still there like before.

"Sweetie." he turns his body away from the table to face you, pulling you so that you were standing in between his legs looking down shyly on the floor. "I'm serious." his fingers reached for your chin to pull your head up to meet his features. His other hand still holding your smaller one; index finger tracing your ring finger in circular motions as if he was creating a make believe ring.

He should thank himself for falling in love and be trusting once again.

Because now, staring back at your eyes filled with the same amount of emotions as his. Reciprocating the exact thing he was feeling. Waking up just to start the day already wanting him to be there. Knowing all the littlest things he's shared. Hearing the erratic sound of both of your heart beats.

He knew he's made the right choice.

"You really do look like my wife. My future."

© all content belongs to mochikeiji. Please do not repost or copy, ありがとうございました!! (=^･^=)

[manesalex]

nothing starts without you (we become the stories we’ve always wanted): chapter 2/3

When Alex’s former bandmate, Rosa Ortecho, asks him to write a song to help kickstart her solo career, Alex finds himself struggling to write anything at all. Until, that is, he meets Michael Guerin. Or, a loose Music and Lyrics AU. for @alex-guerin @malexsanta​

Warnings for suggestive comments, references to past abuse, and references to addiction. Not Maria Deluca friendly.

***

Isobel is talking about her latest terrible date, but all Michael can think about is Alex Manes and that offer he had made.

It’s not a good idea, Michael knows that. It’s just that a part of him wants to take the opportunity to spend more time with Alex. To get to know this man who seems so very different from the guitarist he remembers Isobel having so much interest in a few years ago.

“And then she had the audacity to–” Isobel stops, turning her attention to him. “You know, usually you at least pretend to be interested in the horrors of dating in Roswell.”

“I’m sorry. I guess I’m just distracted. There’s this guy I’m working for and–”

Unsurprisingly, that’s all it takes to make Isobel focus all of her attention on him. “A guy? Please tell me he’s hot.”

“It’s not like that,” Michael objects instantly, well aware that he’s lying. He’s never seen anyone as gorgeous as Alex. He remembers thinking as much when his band had been a big deal years ago, even if their music wasn’t his type. And he’s somehow even hotter in person. But that isn’t a good idea. After all, there’s a good reason he’s been avoiding serious relationships for the past few years. And Michael is absolutely certain he’d never be able to just have something casual with someone like Alex.

Isobel frowns, looking disappointed. “Then what is it like?”

“He asked me to help him with lyrics to a song he’s trying to write for his old bandmate.”

“You’re not talking about– Michael, are you working for Alex Manes?!” Isobel is absolutely giddy at the prospect. Michael doesn’t answer, but the look on his face is enough to confirm it to her. “Okay, first of all, it most definitely is like that because I’ve seen the way you watched those music videos with me and Alex Manes is fucking gorgeous.”

“Okay, fine, he’s hot,” Michael admits. It’s not just that though. There’s something about Alex that makes Michael absolutely certain that his beauty isn’t just surface level.

Isobel is smiling like that cat that ate the proverbial canary, “Yeah, he is. And you’re going to say yes to him and tell me all about it.”

“It’s not a good idea, Isobel. You know what happened with–”

Isobel sounds positively murderous at the reminder, “Yeah, well she doesn’t have an ounce of integrity in her body.” She pauses for a moment before saying, “Alex is different. He may have written some fabulously bitchy lyrics, but– You remember when he was outed? All the things they said about him in the press?”

Michael nods.

“He never once went after anyone. Just disappeared. And, honestly, he should have at least ruined his brother’s life because what kind of person does that to their brother?”

Michael doesn’t have an answer. He can’t imagine hurting Isobel, Max, or Dallas like that. Or any of them doing that to him.

“Anyway, you should talk to him, Michael,” Isobel urges. “You were a really good writer. And I know it meant a lot to you. You shouldn’t let Maria ruin that for you forever. And I think Alex would understand. Plus,” she adds with a grin. “How fucking cool would it be to have Rosa Ortecho singing something you’ve written?”

***

When Michael arrives the next morning, Alex hasn’t gotten any further on the song he’s failing to write.

He expects Michael to get straight to work, but, instead, Michael stops directly in front of him. “You toured with Maria Deluca, right?”

It’s an odd question and seems entirely out of nowhere, but Alex just nods, “Our last tour as a band.” It hadn’t exactly gone well and Alex suspects that Maria had something to do with some of that, but he can’t exactly prove she had released those pictures of Rosa to the public.

“And what did you think of her?”

“Just between you and me?” Alex asks for confirmation. He’s not looking to poke that particular hornet’s nest. Michael just nods, so Alex takes a deep breath and says, “She seemed nice. At first. But then… I don’t trust her. Some stuff happened and, while some of it might just be a coincidence, I don’t think she’s as sweet as her public image would suggest.”

Michael sits down across from Alex before saying, “I dated her. Maybe about a year before she released her first album. Not that she’d admit it.

“I used to write music. All the time. She did too. So I wasn’t surprised when she got a record deal. I was excited for her. I didn’t even think it was weird that she didn’t want me to visit her in the studio or anything. After all, she never introduced me to her family.” He looks defensive, angry, like he’s expecting Alex to dismiss it. Or worse, agree with that decision. “She was ashamed of me. And it’s not like she didn’t have reasons to be.”

Alex wants to argue with that, but he thinks Michael just needs to tell this story without interruptions.

“Anyway, we broke up about a month before her first single came out. And, when it came out–” he takes a deep breath, looking Alex right in the eye. “I wrote it. Turns out I wrote most of the songs on her album.”

“She stole your songs,” Alex says softly.

“Not that I can prove it,” Michael shrugs.

Alex nods, “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Michael, however, looks completely shocked. “You believe me?”

“Yeah,” Alex shrugs. “I was dating this guy when we were touring. I mean, I still wasn’t out, not to the general public, but… Everyone on the tour knew. And about halfway through the tour– He started dating her.” He pauses before saying, “I mean, that’s– I get it. I was a closeted, disabled queer man. Not exactly a prize. Maria didn’t have any of that baggage. But then Rosa made some shady comments about it onstage one night and– I, um, I think Maria released those pics of Rosa partying on our last tour. I can’t prove it, but she went out with her every night and… She wasn’t in a single one of them.” He takes a breath, “Anyway, I don’t think what she did to you would be out of character for her. But I’m sorry she did that to you. And, for the record, she shouldn’t have treated you like she was ashamed of you either.”

“Thanks,” Michael’s voice is surprisingly soft. And then he clears his throat before saying, “Anyway, Isobel suggested I tell you about it.” He pauses a moment, “I’d really like to try to write something with you. I just..” he shrugs, gets up. “I’ll get to work.”

“I could get my lawyer to write up a contract, if you’d like. I mean, Rosa wouldn’t steal your work. I wouldn’t do it either. But I could have Noah put something together so you’d have that security.” He’s angry on Michael’s behalf, that Maria stole his work. His songs were good. Far better than anything on Maria’s second album. And Michael deserves to have his talent recognized. If he wants it. If Alex can give this to him.

“I’d like that.”

***

Writing with Alex is easier than Michael could have imagined. It’s almost like it’s instinctive. He’ll write something and Alex will follow with a change to the tune that fits it perfectly. Or vice versa. He loses track of time and only realizes they’ve been working together for hours when his stomach growls loud enough for both of them to hear.

Not too long after that, they’re seated at the Crashdown and the owner, Arturo, is dropping off burgers, fries, and milkshakes at their table.

“You should go see Rosa,” Arturo says, seemingly out of nowhere.

“She’s in town?” Alex asks, sounding surprised.

“Just for the rest of the day. She’s getting ready for a hometown concert and said she wanted to tour the venue.”

Michael just listens as Alex continues to talk with Arturo, surprised by how Alex seems perfectly at ease with him.

Until, that is, Arturo walks away and Alex explains, “Arturo is Rosa’s dad. I met his younger daughter, Liz, in elementary school. She’s off in Denver doing some medical thing that is far too complicated for me to follow.” Michael very much doubts that. From what he’s seen of Alex, he’s far smarter than most people would probably expect. Alex continues, “Arturo was one of the few adults in Roswell who always gave me somewhere to stay when I was scared to go home.”

“Tell me about Rosa?” Michael asks, deciding to stick with the safer subject for now, to wait to ask about the painful past Alex had hinted at, even if he’s heard bits and pieces of it from the press and from Isobel’s commentary on the subject. “Might help with the song if I knew more about her.” He can see Alex getting ready to object, “I’m not talking personal stuff. Just– Tell me how you see her.”

Alex takes a sip of his milkshake before speaking, “Most people see her as tough. That’s this image that she projects. And she can be. If you hurt someone she loves, she won’t back down. But she’s also smart. Passionate about her art. And really caring.” He pauses, looks down before meeting Michael’s eyes. “She’s the first person I came out to. She was the person I went to when things were bad at home. She taught me how to use eyeliner and painted my nails and– everyone else thought I should be quiet, should hide.” Alex looks down, twirls his straw for a moment, “It’s not like I don’t understand why. They wanted me to be safe. Or some of them did. Some of them just wanted me to stay invisible.”

Michael wishes he could have known Alex back then, when he was a kid. He thinks he would have been amazed by the boy who was brave enough to be entirely himself, to raise a middle finger to the world who wanted him to be something different, something less than he is. He thinks his teenage self would have probably fallen head over heels for a teenaged Alex Manes.

“Rosa was the only person I really felt safe with back then. I wish I could have done the same for her when she needed me.” Michael is about to object when Alex says, “Thanks again for helping me with the song for her.”

“Alex,” Michael starts, “Addiction is– You know there’s nothing you could have done about that, right?”

“I could have been there,” Alex looks angry, but Michael knows that anger is entirely directed at himself. “She was struggling and I could have at least kept an eye on her. Might have kept her from being torn apart by the press.”

Michael wants to argue with him, but he can already see that Alex is his own harshest critic, that arguing with him right now won’t change his mind. So instead he says, “And what about you? What were you like growing up?”

“I was… struggling. And angry. My mom left when I was a kid and my dad hated me for who I was. For who I am. My brothers fell in line. I get it. They were trying to survive. But I was just so angry that the world wasn’t better, that people didn’t care. I’d show up to school with a black eye and people would just ignore it. Until my dad went to prison and then, all of a sudden, they acted like they always cared.”

“What happened?” Michael asks, taking the opening Alex offered. He’s heard bits and pieces of other people’s versions of what Alex’s father had done to him, but he knows Alex never commented on it publicly. Most of it had been overshadowed in the press by one of his brothers outing him anyway, as if Alex being gay was a scandal and not the fact that his father had tried to murder him for it. But he wants to hear Alex’s version. If he wants to tell it, of course. “I mean, you don’t have to–”

“The summer before my senior year of high school, my father caught me with a guy on the football team. I don’t remember a lot after that.” Alex pauses before saying, “I don’t remember what my dad did to me, only what the doctors and then the sheriff told me. And, after I was out of the hospital, the sheriff took me in.” He takes a deep breath before saying, “My mom showed up for a bit at first but– She didn’t really want to stick around. My brothers– Clay stuck by my dad’s side. He’s still defending him. He’s the one who…” Alex trails off, almost like he doesn’t want to say it.

So Michael offers, “Outed you?”

Alex nods, “It’s not like I don’t get it. Him defending my father, I mean. I know how trauma can fuck with your head.” Michael wants to argue, to say that what Clay did was unforgivable, but, at the same time, he’s amazed that Alex is so understanding toward someone who hurt him so much and so publicly. Alex continues, “Flint was with him for a while, but now both he and Gregory are working through things for themselves.”

Michael doesn’t know what to say. He wishes he would have been there when they were kids, knows he’d have put himself in harm’s way for Alex. He’s never met someone who is so kind to everyone, who sees the good in everyone, even when they don’t deserve it. Michael is absolutely certain that, even now, as an adult, he’d do anything to protect this man he barely knows. And that realization is terrifying. He’s never felt like that about anyone but his siblings. He has just met Alex Manes and already he’s certain that Alex could break his heart without even trying.

***

Thanks for reading! Chapter 3 will be posted later today!

[stardustedknuckles]

I see it brought up all the time how essek agreed to give big help for a 12 persuasion roll but can we fucking talk about Yussa. Essek got to meet the Nein at a later point in which the thing they made together was beginning to solidify.

For Yussa, the as-yet-uncohesive Mighty Nein literally knocked on his nonexistent door ahead of his monstrous schedule and the whole interaction was like watching a feral cat at war with its maternal instincts lmao. These children wander up holding a demi plane and Yussa keeps a poker face while throwing around words like "friends" and "exclusivity" and "oh yeah there's a teleportation circle upstairs in my DOORLESS TOWER so if you want to explore the ball at least do it where I can see."

And it just kills me because he's so determined to play it straight but this dork just straight up adopted himself out to the Nein and he just wants to keep them safe - PLEASE just be stupid where I can see - and the absolute best part is that he immediately gets stuck in the same puzzle he warned them about and this is routine for him. He knew who the Nein were on a spiritual level immediately. Everyone here is acting so formal and serious, but if you scratch the surface with a fingernail there's the same chaos and poor decision making and search for trust that binds them all.

I'm just saying, we overlook this guy a lot when we're talking about white-haired wizard NPCs who vibe weirdly well with these chucklefucks.

[pftones3482]

Sometimes Stupid

Commission for @randomfandomfan from one of their many prompts they gave me. Took forever bc of work and life and also???? Now I have a cat??? So that's fun. But this was fun to write. Read it here on AO3

Set post TLO and pre HOO (and a little bit post HOO). Under a cut for length.

~~

Contrary to popular belief, Leo Valdez was not stupid.

He was an idiot, at times – for instance, maybe running away from his seventh (fifteenth? He’d really lost track at this point) foster home wasn’t the best decision he could have made, especially given that it was the middle of summer and oh, also, hurricane season. And okay, maybe he should’ve taken more with him than a single change of clothes, a box of Ritz crackers, a pocketknife, and a water bottle that had definitely seen better days, but he was in a rush, okay?

But he wasn’t stupid.

When he ran away from his foster homes, Leo tended to stay away from people where he could. And if he had to be around them, he cleaned up, smiled brightly, “Yes ma’am”ed and “Yes’sir”ed to an obnoxious point, and lied his pants off. People were less likely to call the police on a Hispanic kid if they thought he was just a darling little angel waiting for mom at the grocery store, and the last thing he needed was the cops in his business.

Not that it hadn’t happened, of course. He’d dealt with cops of all kinds – nice cops, bad cops, black cops, white cops (WAY too many of those, in his opinion), the occasional cop who would speak Spanish with him, cops who were just there to write a report and move on with their days – cops.

He tried to stay away from them.

Which meant sticking to beaches and forests, lakes and campgrounds, middle of nowhere places with no people for miles. Leo was good at disappearing. Hiding.

But there were always times when he needed an adult. When he needed to hitchhike, or when he needed food to the point of near passing out. Once for serious medical attention. There was a system to what adults you could trust.

Never cops. You could never trust the cops, no matter what naïve white parents thought. Leo had been in cuffs enough to know that was false.

You also couldn’t usually trust priests. They meant well, sure, but they always ended up calling the authorities in the end. That, or they tried to convert Leo to Catholicism, and while one of those encounters had ended with a swiped bottle of watered-down red wine and a night that made him vow to never drink again, he wasn’t trying to contact the church.

(THAT night, Leo would say he had been stupid. He could admit that)

Homeless people were usually okay. While a lot of them were very suspicious of everyone, almost every homeless person he’d ever met would point him in the direction of food, water, free showers, free clothes, or a library (his saving grace during the heat of the summer and the cold of the winter). The times when he came across gay homeless people were when he felt safest – they especially never pressed him about his background. Ironic, really, that he felt safer with strangers on the street than his foster homes.

Moms were sometimes okay. Especially if they were Hispanic, or black, or just anything but white. They, at least, wouldn’t call the cops on him. But they were also hit or miss – sometimes they helped in way of a meal, or a new bottle of water. One mom even took him to the store and got him new socks and underwear (he had cried that night). But other moms rushed him away from their precious babies. Some moms called him ungrateful for the “space he had.”

Dads were a never. Leo never went to men if he could help it, even if they had children with them. He didn’t trust them as far as he could throw them, and that wasn’t very far.

But it was hurricane season. And he was on the coast. And it was downpouring, and he was starving, and the only people he had seen for miles were a white couple, a man and a woman, standing on the porch of a somewhat rundown shack that Leo would’ve probably thought was abandoned if he hadn’t seen them there.

The man was tall, peppered hair that was shifting more to salt, with a rough beard and a pair of glasses perched on his nose. The woman at his side was short, probably Leo’s height, with dark curly hair and vibrantly blue eyes. It was streaked with gray, but she was, admittedly, a very pretty woman. Something about her smile put Leo at ease.

He clutched his backpack tighter in his fist and stumbled over the sand towards the shack, ankles rolling uncomfortably on the wet ground. He was sure he looked atrocious, sure that the moment they spotted him, they’d shriek and cuss him out and lock the door.

But then he coughed, hard, his shoulders shaking, and the woman whipped her head around. He watched her eyes widen, watched her tug at the man’s sleeve, and then she was bolting – barefoot, Leo noticed – down the steps and over to him.

He flinched when she wrapped an arm over his shoulders, jolting out of her grip more from habit than anything else. She froze, holding both hands up and relaxing her stance. “Hey, honey. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Somewhere deep down, Leo’s brain was scoffing at the patronizing words. But on the surface, he focused on the words, and then sharpened his eyes onto the man as he approached, phone in hand. “I-I c-can’t-”

The woman looked back, down at the phone, and her shoulders stiffened. “Paul, put the phone away, please.”

Her voice held an intonation that Leo couldn’t decipher, but the man – Paul – instantly shut the phone off and pocketed it. The moment it was gone, Leo let his shoulders loosen, and he looked at the woman anxiously. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I-I just…”

“Hey.”

Her arm was more cautious this time, sliding around Leo’s shoulders with a pace that would let him move if he wanted. He didn’t, just let it happen, and then the woman was easing him over the sticky sand and up the steps of the shack, Paul close behind them. He stopped at the door, pushing back hard against the woman’s guiding grip. “I don’t want to ruin your house,” he managed.

The woman’s laugh was…well, to be perfectly honest, it made Leo feel warm. Like she could never hurt him.

Those are usually the most dangerous people, his mind tried to reason with him.

“Sweetheart, it’s just a rental cabin. Besides, I’ve had far worse than a little sand and water on my floors before.”

Before he could wonder at that sentence, she opened the door and nudged him inside. The second that Paul closed the door, the sound of the wind died down and the chill in the air evaporated. Leo realized he was shivering.

The woman’s hands were warm on his cheeks. “My name is Sally, hon. You are-?”

He usually gave a fake name, but – “Leo, ma’am.”

“Don’t you ma’am me,” she scoffed, her voice easy as she helped Leo to the couch. “I’m not that old, am I Paul?”

Paul put his hands up. “I abstain from answering.”

Sally scoffed and pressed a cool hand on Leo’s forehead. “Can I take your backpack, sweetheart?”

Something like panic flared in Leo’s chest, and Sally must have seen it, because she pulled her hand back and held it up. “I’m not moving it far, I just want Paul to dry everything out for you, okay?”

Fingers shaking, Leo shrugged off his bag – the one he’d been carrying for nearly three states – and passed it over to her. She took it like it was a priceless artifact, and handed it to Paul with more tenderness than Leo had ever seen given to an inanimate object. “I think my son might have left some clothes here while he was with us last week,” she said, voice soft. “He’s a little older than you, so some things might be big, but is it okay if we give you some of his clothes while we dry out yours?”

Leo swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Um. Yeah.”

She stood up and left with Paul, giving Leo a moment to be alone and take in the cabin around him.

It was old, but obviously well taken care of, with weathered planks of wood gracing the walls and the floor. He was in the living room, full of mismatched couches and chairs and a bookshelf stacked full of books and games. He didn’t see a TV in sight, but he wasn’t expecting to find one. He stood shakily, suddenly very aware of how wet he was getting the couch, and wrapped his arms around himself as he explored the rest of the main room.

The kitchen was small and cramped, but he could smell something full of tomatoes and spices in the oven that made his tastebuds water. He didn’t dare look for fear of getting caught, so he stepped away and into the tiny dining area. There was sand on the floor, spread thin and fine, and it was such a small thing, but it made Leo relax even more – Sally meant it when she said she didn’t care about him ruining her floors.

But she and Paul had been gone for a while, and Leo wasn’t stupid, okay? It didn’t matter how well intentioned someone was, they always thought they knew better, and if they were gone too long, it meant they were trying to decide for him. So he crept towards the hallway they’d vanished to, praying that he didn’t step on a squeaky board. Old homes always had them in the most inconvenient places.

“-not answering?” he picked up Paul’s voice saying.

“No,” Sally said, a sigh in her voice. “He did say he and Annabeth were on a date, but I didn’t expect them to be in Paris of all places. How did they even-?”

“Can you get ahold of Chiron?”

Not the police, then, Leo reasoned, unless they knew an officer by that name. He leaned a little closer.

“No – I try not to call the camp unless I need to. Phone lines and all that, you know?”

Paul huffed. “I know. And Rachel is at art camp, right?”

“Yup,” Sally said, and Leo heard a sound like a blowing raspberry. “He clearly isn’t aware of anything, Paul. He’s terrified.”

“Probably a runaway,” Paul hummed, and Leo flinched at the damning statement. “Met a couple kids like that teaching.”

He looked like a teacher. You couldn’t trust most teachers either, Leo had learned. They were just like priests. Tried their best, but they always inevitably called someone.

“What did you do? Who did you call?” Sally asked, and Leo stiffened. Here it comes, his brain taunted.

“No one,” Paul said.

Leo blinked, taking a slight step back. What?

“Kids don’t run away for no reason, Sal. Especially not kids like him. Perce taught me that. I mean, maybe in my early days of teaching, I might have called the authorities, but ever since this summer I…how could I risk that? Even before then, I mean…the stories I’ve heard from some of these kids I’ve talked to. We don’t know anything about him. If he ran away, all this way, in this weather? It was bad, love.”

Leo’s throat ached.

He’d never, the whole time he’d been in foster care, ever heard an adult admit that they were wrong to call the authorities on him. Never heard an adult take his perspective into account, especially without even knowing him. Never had an adult admit that his life could be anything other than ideal.

He took another step back and oh shit, there it was, the cursed piece of wood in every old house to ever exist. He cussed under his breath and ducked his head as Sally stepped into the hallway. He refused to look up at her. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “You were just gone for a while a-and I thought you might be calling someone.”

No verbal response. Instead, a soft bundle of fabric was pressed into Leo’s hands. He startled, gripping onto the clothing, and looked up at Sally and Paul with wide eyes. Paul shook his head. “We’re not calling anyone, son. Not if you don’t want us to. But we do ask that you get cleaned up, before you catch pneumonia.”

Sally tilted her head towards the door across the hall. “Let me know when you’re done, I’ll toss your clothes in the dryer. Paul was just finishing up dinner when you came along. Do you like lasagna?”

Leo’s mouth watered at the thought of eating any kind of food that wasn’t stale crackers and canned tuna. “Yes ma’am.”

“What’d I say about that ma’am nonsense?” Sally scolded.

Leo ducked his head, trying to press down the tears. “Yes, miss,” he chuckled.

Sally laughed as Paul headed for the kitchen. “It’s a start, love.”

~~

Sally’s son’s clothes were soft, well loved. They smelled like sea water and lavender detergent, and though the t-shirt was a gaudy orange with letters so faded that Leo couldn’t read them, he sank into the fabric with a sigh. Sally had also passed him a pair of sweatpants, and Leo hoped that her son wouldn’t be mad if he ever found out that some random foster kid had borrowed them.

If he was anything like Sally, though, Leo had the feeling he’d like him.

His hair was still wet, but this time from a shower, and Leo couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten to stand under an actual stream of hot water without people literally timing him to make sure he didn’t take too long. He stood in front of the mirror, sighing a little at how skinny he’d gotten. He’d always been small – being skinny only made him more of a punching bag for the bigger foster kids. His hair, untamed from weeks of running, hung in his eyes, and he wondered briefly if Sally might have a hair tie he could borrow.

He left the bathroom and crept into the dining room, where Sally was setting the table and Paul was pulling one of the most beautiful lasagnas he’d ever seen out of the oven.

“-texted me, said they’d be back tomorrow morning. He offered to come back sooner,” Sally was saying as Leo stood in the doorway, “but I know he and ‘beth haven’t really gotten to go on any non-monstrous dates recently.”

She blinked when she saw him standing there, and her smile softened into something warm and inviting. “Come on, hon. Paul was just getting dinner out.”

Maybe it was the malnourishment, or Paul’s cooking skills, or Leo’s exhaustion, or a combination of the three, but Leo had never tasted such good Italian food in his life. He downed one, two, three pieces and a full salad before he finally slowed down. To his relief, neither Paul nor Sally gave him any grief about how many pieces he took. Honestly, he thought he watched Paul actively make his slices bigger than theirs.

They’d clearly been talking about their son when he came in the room. This guy was in Paris, on a date with his girlfriend, and he was coming back tomorrow. Leo wondered just how rich this family was – the dad was a teacher, but Sally hadn’t said what she did, and Leo was a little afraid to ask.

When Paul brought out a pie for dessert, Leo almost cried. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had any dessert fancier than a stolen Ding Dong from a corner store. Paul definitely gave him a larger slice than them, and as he ate it, Sally poked at her own pie.

“Leo, we’re not going to pry,” she started, gentle. “Your story is yours, and I know how tricky it can be to share yourself and your past with new people.”

The sad smile Paul shot her didn’t go unnoticed by Leo, and he internally bristled at the thought that this wonderful mom in front of him could understand anything about how he felt, because that meant that she’d gone through shit she didn’t deserve. He said nothing, though, just nodded.

Sally eyed her pie thoughtfully, stabbing a blackberry that had escaped the crust. “But I feel like…well, I feel as though my son especially can relate to how you’re feeling, or at least some of it. If you’d be willing to wait for him to come home, maybe we can figure some things out together.”

Leo felt lost. He’d been lost a lot before, but this was the first time it was mental and not physical. “What?”

Sally looked up, seeming to realize that she’d baffled him. “I mean…”

She looked at Paul, and Leo looked between the two of them, tightening his grip on his fork. They were having a silent conversation. Leo hated when adults did that. “You mean you want to wait until I’m asleep so you can call the cops o-or foster services or-or just wait until your son gets back so he can tell me to get out.”

He shoved his chair back from the table, tears prickling at his eyes. Every time. Every time. He always got his hopes up, always thought he’d found the perfect people, people who got it, and every fucking time, he-

Hands settled on his shoulders, and he ripped away, scowling at Sally. Her eyes were sad, and Leo felt an unwelcome stab of guilt in his chest. “That is not what we were suggesting, ever, honey. I would never call foster services, first of all. They’re atrocious, especially for kids of color.”

Leo jolted back. He’d never had a white woman actively acknowledge his race so bluntly before – it was usually partnered with some demeaning comment about “his kind” of people. He eyed Sally warily.

She lowered her hands, keeping them on her hips where he could see them. “Second, I’d never call the police either. You’re not a problem, and my son has had enough unfortunate encounters with them for me to…distrust them severely, to say the least.”

Her son had-?

“I just…we know a place. Where you would genuinely be safe, hon. No foster homes, no cops, with people who get it.”

She was lying. She had to be lying, no matter what Leo’s heart said. But she wasn’t going to let this go, and he knew it. So he sighed, fidgeted with his fingers. He wished he had something to build. “Okay. I’ll wait for your son to get home.”

Sally relaxed, and Leo gave her a thin smile.

He helped her and Paul clean up the kitchen, put away the leftover lasagna. Sat with them and did a puzzle, played a game of Clue with them. Fixed their radio for them, much to their surprise, and then watched with a small smile on his face as Paul and Sally danced around the living room together. They tried to get him to join, but he’d never been much of a dancer, so he declined.

They bid him goodnight around 11, and he shut the door of their son’s room, let the hours tick on.

At three am, he got up, changed back into his own clothes, left the borrowed ones folded neatly on the foot of the bed. He took a flashlight from the bedside table and slid it into his backpack, stepped out of the bedroom and avoided the squeaky floorboard.

The tool kit from fixing the radio was still on the coffee table, and he picked it up with only the slightest feelings of guilt. Went through the cabinets and pulled out sleeves of crackers, a box of granola, eyed the leftover lasagna with a sad gaze. He found a roll of toilet paper under the sink, a bottle of hand sanitizer in a junk drawer.

He paused by the game of Clue, left out on the table from their match, and let his fingers trace over it sadly. His gut screamed at him to leave. His heart screamed at him to stay. He wasn’t stupid.

Leo had always trusted his gut.

He pocketed the candlestick piece and turned for the door, flinching the second his eyes landed on Sally.

Her hair was done up in a braid, her pajamas wrinkled, and the moon shining through the window reflected the sadness in her eyes. Leo opened his mouth, but couldn’t find it in him to speak – the lump was back.

She stepped forward and he shut his eyes, expecting a lecture. Instead, her hand cupped his cheek. Her other hand pressed into his, and he gasped as he felt the telltale touch of money in his fingers. He looked down at the wad of cash – he couldn’t see how much it was, but he knew that he didn’t deserve it. He looked up at her, panicking. “I can’t-”

“Stay, I know,” she whispered, and that wasn’t what he’d been planning to say, and he knew that she knew that. “I understand, Leo. I understand, sweetie.”

The sob slipped out before he could stop it, and Sally’s eyes softened. She bent at the hip, pressing a soft kiss to his curls. “When you end up meeting my son,” she murmured, “come visit, okay?”

Leo had no idea what that meant, but he nodded, if only to appease her. “I’m sorry,” he croaked.

She squeezed his shoulder. “Nothing to be sorry for, honey. Be safe.”

Sally watched him go, watched him shut the door behind him, and he looked down at the money in his hands with a choked feeling in his chest. It was more than he’d held in his entire life. He couldn’t take it, but he knew she’d be upset if he didn’t. And if there was one thing Leo refused to do, it was make Sally more upset than he already had.

So he pocketed it and, with an aching heart, stepped off the porch of the cabin. The storm from earlier had died down, and, fingers tight on his backpack straps, he started making his way up the beach.

~~

Percy was bouncing up and down at the entrance to Camp Half Blood, fingers curled around Annabeth’s hand. “Do I look okay?” he asked for probably the thousandth time that morning.

Piper rolled her eyes. “Percy, it’s your mom. She doesn’t care what you look like.”

Percy shot her a mock glare. “I haven’t seen her in over a year, McClean, sue me.”

“You look fine, Perce,” Annabeth laughed, kissing his cheek. “She’s gonna mostly care that you’re alive.”

“Okay but this tattoo-”

“Sorry, you vanished on me for over a year, crossed the globe, and you got a TATTOO?” came a very scolding, very obviously Mom Voice, and Leo snickered, turning to see who was about to absolutely whoop Percy’s ass.

And he stumbled on his own feet, lips parting as Sally (Sally Jackson, his unhelpful brain mocked) appeared at the top of the hill. Her hair was a little grayer than it had been when Leo met her, her hips a little wider, but her smile was the same, her laugh as Percy launched himself at her the same peal of delight Leo remembered on his toughest nights, and when she caught his eye over Percy’s shoulder, her smile only widened.

Okay, so sometimes Leo Valdez was kind of stupid.

[itcameuponamidnightqueer]

beau wakes up calm.

it’s a feeling so pervasive that she’s almost unsettled by it. their lives aren’t calm right now, between eiselcross and vess de rogna and now these eyes that keep popping up all over her and caleb. any calm she feels is usually immediately overshadowed by guilt for feeling it.

but beau can’t find it in her to feel guilty right now, not when the tower is quiet and there is a large, warm arm thrown protectively over her stomach. not when beau can feel the tickle of hot air at the back of her neck as yasha breathes, steady and restful in a way she doesn’t get to be when she’s awake. beau considers learning magic just so she can stop time and give yasha all the rest she deserves.

for now, she slowly rolls onto her back, taking care not to jostle yasha or slip out from under her secure embrace. she rolls over and doesn’t open her eyes until she’s on her back, the mirror directly above her, waiting.

it’s a sex mirror. of course it’s that, because caleb said as much when he told her about it, and god, does she owe him a week’s worth of uninterrupted research or whatever nerdy thing he wants in return. it’s a sex mirror and she and yasha have checked that off their list already, at least for the first time. second, fourth, something--they have definitely checked that off their list for a quantifiable number of times, it’s just that beau doesn’t quite know the number.

it’s a sex mirror but it’s also not because it’s more, because beau opens her eyes and can see the two of them as they are now--wrapped together, heavy and sticky in the illusory sunlight, sheets draped carelessly across their legs. they look good together. it isn’t the first time beau’s thought that, and with any luck (and a lot of hard work), it won’t be the last. but this is the first time that beau’s had the chance to really sink into that feeling, to see the reality of it and commit it to memory.

beau takes her time looking, glances over her own familiar body and the way it melts against one she can’t wait to know better. she should be a little cold perhaps, given that the sheets don’t go any higher than her hips and she hasn’t been wearing clothes for a good couple of hours. but yasha is so very there, so wide and curled around her in a way that seeks comfort as much as gives it. she’s on her side, the parts of her that aren’t touching beau sprawled greedily across the expanse of the bed. beau could spend hours looking at this reflection of them, of yasha and the curve of her muscles; the way her skin actually seems to create a glare in the early morning light. it’s so bright normally, even brighter now for the nearness of beau. time is fleeting and the tower will disappear soon and so beau is greedy--she looks at the angle of yasha’s legs, the way she twitches her toes on the one foot that hangs over the edge of the bed. beau looks at yasha’s back, the slope and strength of it; she remembers how solid and warm it felt under her fingers just a few hours ago. beau has known how sturdy yasha is since they met--has lusted over it since then, to be honest--but to feel it within her grasp, to be pressed against it and to have it soften and yield at her touch…

beau would learn magic to give yasha the peace she needs. she would learn art to memorialize this moment and the way they look together.

she watches yasha sleep, clocks the way her nose is pressed into the crook of beau’s neck. she almost cries at the drape of yasha’s arm across her chest--a few inches down and she’d have a handful of boob. as it is, beau’s heart is beating a rhythm right into yasha’s palm. 

beau turns her head away from yasha and clears her throat. “hey.” she clears it again when it becomes clear just how ragged it’s gotten. “dachsies, can you hear me? or do i have to yell.” she waits, straining to listen for the soft clink of a tiny bell or two. “frumpkin?” she tries again.

there is a faint ‘mrrp’ and the door to her bedroom opens slightly, just wide enough for a lithe fey cat to slip through. she can’t see frumpkin as he enters the room, but he’s there all of a sudden, jumping noiselessly and weightlessly on top of the bed.

he stares at her expectantly and beau wishes very much that caleb isn’t snooping, too.

frumpkin walks forward and sits next to her, the not-quite-fur of his tail swishing against her side. beau can’t help reaching out with the hand that isn’t trapped by yasha’s body and giving him a few scratches under his chin. he preens, closes his eyes tilts up to give her a better angle, and settles right back into his serious face when she pulls away.

“can you get the hot tub going again,” beau murmurs, “with some nice shampoos and shit? and maybe start working on a few dozen pancakes; i’m sure the others are gonna barge in here soon. make sure there’s a stack of spider ones for me and yash.”

frumpkin chirps again, butts his head against her chest as he jumps off the bed. beau reaches out to affectionately grab his tail, chuckling as it slips through her hands.

yasha is awake when beau turns back to look at her.

“hello,” yasha whispers. “good morning.” beau cuts her off with a kiss. “i love you.”

beau smiles at that, rolls over and presses herself firmly into yasha. she repositions yasha’s arm to wrap around her back, laughs when yasha drifts downward and squeezes her ass. beau kisses her again and again, slow and firm, catching any inch of lips or neck that she might have missed before. her hands roam without any destination, traipsing over the plane of yasha’s stomach, tickling at the dimples in her shoulders underneath which her wings sprout. beau knows how sensitive those spots are now, and she presses her fingers against them, syncs that up with another determined kiss. she doesn’t miss the way yasha’s tongue stutters against her own, the brief loss of contact she sacrifices to gasp, just a little.

yasha’s nails turn inwards and dig into beau’s hips, and beau returns the favor. 

beau reaches upward and grips yasha’s chin, marveling at the fact that her thumb seems to fit perfectly over the line of black beneath yasha’s lip. she pulls away and tickles the skin there, can’t resist one more kiss, especially when it elicits that special, breathy kind of laugh from yasha.

she makes sure yasha’s eyes are open and looking at her before she speaks.

“i love you, too,” beau says, her voice deeper and hoarser than usual, even for the morning. “last night was...i won’t ever forget it, yash.”

“me either.”

“might have been the best night of my life.”

“not if i have anything to say about it,” yasha winks. “i wish we didn’t have to leave.”

“yeah,” beau sighs--breathes, really, and she falls a little more in love with the way yasha doesn’t turn her face away from what is definitely a bad case of morning breath. “we’ve still got some time before we have to, though. the dogs are setting up the hot tub right now.”

yasha laughs, deep and rumbly and beau feels it in her chest. “before all of you i never would have understood that sentence.”

“right?”

“mhm. it is--a very fun thing to think about.”

yasha gently lifts a strand of hair from beau’s face and tucks it behind her ear. beau watches the entire time, so entranced by the size and safety of yasha’s hands, so determined to follow their path with a kiss, that she misses yasha’s other hand coming up to rest behind her legs, and beau lets out a very uncool yelp as yasha lifts her from the bed.

yasha drags them across the mattress, stands and gets herself situated, and it isn’t until they’re halfway to the floating pad that beau clocks exactly how she’s being carried.

yasha’s arms are confident beneath her shoulders and legs, and beau has looped her arms around yasha’s neck instinctually, and tears start to well up in this moment of realization.

“yasha…”

yasha stops walking, leans down and kisses her, and it isn’t because they’re naked that beau is glad no one can see them right now.

beau flutters through her feelings and rests her head against yasha’s chest, silently, as they float gently down to the hot tub. 

everything seems more muted in the daytime--the lionesses aren’t as imposing, the slides aren’t as tempting. but the steam and smells are just as inviting, and beau lets herself be carried into the water, settling into the warmth as yasha reaches for the soaps.

they both slip under the water; beau shakes her head and scratches at her scalp while she lingers, getting out the last of her restless energy. she pops back above the surface and drifts over to yasha, who has settled into the corner, her arms resting elegantly atop the stone edges. beau drops into yasha’s lap without a word, humming, content, as yasha’s arms slip back into the water and wrap around her body. yasha snakes her legs over the parts of beau that her arms can’t reach until beau is completely covered, completely enveloped in her love.

beau has always been attracted to women who could break her--big, strong women whose bigness and strength almost always equated to a good, long time in the bedroom. and yasha has that in spades--probably invented it--but it sure is fuckin’ something else to know that breaking is only half of it, that the flip side is that beau can be fully contained and sheltered in yasha’s arms. bigness is a comfort as much as it is a challenge. yasha uses her size to hold and cherish just as much as she uses it to fight.

beau sinks down so that her nose is just above the surface of the water, and tries her very best to pretend she isn’t crying. the effort is abandoned when she gets out of her head and realizes yasha is very carefully and very thoughtfully soaping up her hair with thick, gentle fingers.

beau sits up a bit and spits some water from her lips. “how come you’re so good at that?”

yasha takes a moment to think, tilts beau’s head back so she can rinse the shampoo out. “zuala and i didn’t have as much time together as i wanted,” she answers, “but we made sure to treasure every moment we were allowed.” she rubs her hands together, presumably spreading conditioner over them; beau can hear the slickness of it echo through the air. “i am able to follow a god because i had a wife once,” she says, quiet and matter-of-fact, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

god.

“well, fuck.” beau closes her eyes and tries to relax her shoulders as yasha’s hands knead through her hair again. “did you--i mean, i don’t want to overstep but--it was like this? all the time?”

yasha is quiet again, patient with her feelings and beau and the combination of the two. she slows her ministrations and rests her hands on the sides of beau’s face, her thumbs tickling at beau’s ears.

“the only similarity between the love i feel for zuala and the love i feel for you is that it is coming from me,” yasha finally says. “it was like this, yes--and it wasn’t like this at all. it was different because it was her. the whole world was different because it was her, you know?”

beau nods. “hope so,” she replies. “trying to, at least.”

yasha squeezes her cheeks, presses a kiss to the top of her soapy head. she gently pushes beau underwater and scrubs her hair clean with a little more force this time. beau lays back and watches, smiles as yasha scoops a hand underwater and brushes it over her lips.

beau sits back up feeling more refreshed and loved than she ever has in her whole life.

she swirls around to face yasha, lets the water guide her back to yasha’s lap. beau hooks her legs around yasha’s torso, lets the water hold her up as she drapes yasha’s hair over her shoulders.

“your braids could use a little touch-up,” she murmurs.

yasha, so sensitive and careful about her hair, simply nods and watches as beau lets it out, making tidy piles with the ties and ribbons on the ledge. yasha’s hair billows out once the last bunch is free; in the water, she looks beautiful and serene.

beau rests her hands on either side of yasha’s face, swipes her thumbs under yasha’s eyes as they kiss. “thank you,” she says, softly, “for loving me.”

yasha sighs and kisses her again. “you make it easy, beau. you don’t have to thank me.”

“i do,” beau insists. “for now, i do.”

she directs yasha away from the wall, takes her place in the shampoo corner. it’s a little different this time--beau can’t surround yasha quite as fully, and she has to wrap her legs around yasha and float to get a good angle to wash her hair. but yasha doesn’t complain, and she rests her arms on beau’s thighs and slides her hands over her legs, soothing and present. the water never cools off and the dogs are somewhere else, and for a few quiet moments, nothing in the world exists except this tub in this tower, hidden in a smelly, dirty tavern.

/

they’re clean and laughing in the kitchen by the time the rest of the party trickles in. beau can hear jester and veth speaking at cartoonishly loud volumes, announcing themselves just in case beau and yasha are doing anything worth being interrupted.

beau smiles, grabs a spider-less bite of pancake, and squeezes yasha’s hand.

“oh, here they are,” caduceus says as they file in. he takes a deep breath and smiles at the spread of food. “what a feast.”

he disappears, probably to make some tea, and beau looks at yasha for just a moment longer before the energy is too much to ignore.

she turns and almost bursts out laughing at the sight of everyone, lined up in front of the table, watching the two of them intently. veth’s eyes are as big as saucers and jester’s are shimmering, her hands clamped over her mouth. next to her, fjord is blushing and even caleb is sporting a smile, reluctant though it may look.

“hey,” beau says. she smiles casually and she means it.

“you’re so cute!!” jester shouts, flinging her hands away from her face. “oh my god, you guys, you have to tell me everything; i’m so happy for you even though we had to sleep in that super stinky room. please tell me it was worth it.”

beau laughs, winks as she tickles yasha’s hand. “totally worth it, jes,” she promises. she gets up from the table, kisses yasha’s knuckles as she does, and gestures for jester to take her seat. “talk to yasha for a sec, okay? i left you some spider-cakes.”

beau is too focused on grabbing caleb to notice the way jester scrunches her nose.

she doesn’t catch fjord’s eye as she leads caleb out of the room and she definitely doesn’t look anywhere near veth. she just drags her cranky wizard to a corner out of eyesight of any window in the kitchen and crosses her arms.

“if you’re about to tell me everything,” caleb says, “please don’t be offended when i say that i would be happier not to hear it.”

“what? no, gross. i mean, not gross-gross, but because--you, gross, right?” beau clears her throat, gently punches caleb’s shoulder to center herself. “i don’t...wanna tell you stuff. i just wanted to do this away from everyone else.”

caleb narrows his eyes. “do what?”

beau steps forward and hugs him. there’s no hesitation or coaching this time, just a strong press of her arms, and she stays there as long as it takes for him to hug back and mean it.

“thank you,” she mumbles into his shoulder. “this was….very special to me.”

“of course,” caleb mutters. “you need only ask, beauregard.”

“yeah, you say that, but it’s like--i know it, now.” to her horror, beau sniffles.

“i am glad you had a good time.”

“the best.”

“you smell very nice. thank you for bathing before hugging me.”

“i got you, dude.”

“can you let go of me now?”

“yeah, sure.” beau steps back and gives him one last shoulder squeeze. 

caleb nods and squeezes back. he snaps his fingers and frumpkin is there, leaping onto his shoulder as they walk back toward the kitchen,

[chrizbang]

Pairing: Han Jisung x female reader

Genre: smut

Warnings: mature content, oral sex (m), lowkey sub!Jisung

Word count: 1.488

"Guys, are you sure about it?" Jisung asked. You were inside of the car, going on an adventure. "Can you guys stop acting like scaredy-cats? It's going to be fun. Besides, I won the bet so you guys have to do anything I want," you complained, turning around to look at Jisung. You were sitting in the front of the car with Chan, while he was driving. In the back were Jisung, Minho, and Cindy, his new girlfriend. You know it wouldn't last like the rest of his relationships, but at least they were having fun. You were heading to a place you always wanted to go to, a mall that has been abandoned for 20 years. It was far away from your house, in a less populated place in the city. You loved seeing pictures of abandoned places and always wanted to go to one, now you had a chance. "Of course you won, you cheated," Jisung protested. "How would I cheat on Mario Kart?" "According to the GPS, we are almost there," Chan said. "Awesome," Minho stretched his arms. "I can't handle Y/N and Jisung bickering anymore." You huffed, but you knew he was right. You and Jisung didn't stop arguing since you got in the car, but it wasn't anything serious. "We are here, let's go inside already. It's 4PM, we need to leave before it gets dark," Chan said, stopping the car in front of the gates of the mall. It was big but it wasn't the biggest one you've seen. "It's beautiful," you looked at it with admiration, feeling excited to go inside. You stepped out of the car, you couldn't wait anymore. "You're a freak," Jisung criticized, making a grumpy face. You didn't answer him, looking for a way to get in. "We'll have to jump over the wall," Cindy said, holding Minho's hand. You could see nobody was really enjoying this idea, but you weren't brave enough to go alone. "Come on Y/N, I'll help you out," Jisung suggested. You laughed. "Jisung, I don't think you're going to be able to handle me." He looked at you offended, you clearly hurt his ego, even though it wasn't your intention. He didn't have time to complain, Chan was already holding his legs and lifting him up on the wall. "Ugh, crap," Jisung whined, scratching his arm on the hard surface. "Sorry," Chan apologized. One by one, you jumped the wall. Chan was the last one, you were impressed by his abilities to jump walls like that. You needed to remind yourself to ask him how he learned that later. There was a vast yard around the mall. There were a lot of bushes, plants growing everywhere. "How are we going to get in?" Minho asked you. "I don't know, didn't thought about this detail." "Are you stupid?," Jisung stopped, looking at you. "Shut the fuck up, Jisung." "Guys," said Cindy. "There's a gap on the wall here. It's small but we can go through it." The gap was next to the entrance, probably because somebody went inside before you. The place was abandoned for so long, you expected this to happen. You went first, getting on your knees so you could go through it, lifting up your ass, knowing that Jisung was right behind you. You knew that both Minho and Chan were very handsome and you would be lying if you said you were not attracted to them. But you've been their friend for so long that you saw them more as your silly friends than as Hot Men™. Jisung on the other hand fascinated you. You met him after he moved to your city, to work with Chan and Minho, his longtime friends.  Since you were older than Jisung, he always looked awkward around you. He tried to look mature, to make himself tough next to you. To be honest, you loved to tease him. You loved to see his chubby cheeks go red because you said or done something that made him blush. Jisung was adorable. You thought he had a crush on you, but you weren't sure. When you were finally inside, you were blown away by the place. It had a lot of dirt, of course, but it had its own beauty. To think that this place has a history, that it had people living their lives inside of it, was amazing. At least for you. "This place sucks," Jisung complained. You rolled your eyes. "Can you at least pretend that you are enjoying it?" "I like it," Cindy said. "Thank you, Cindy." "Where do we go first?" Chan asked, looking around. "I don't think we should split up," Minho advised, looking concerned. "Let's go upstairs," you disclosed. You went up the stairs, admiring the place around you. "Wow, there was an arcade here," Chan said, while he ran to take a look at the place. Cindy and Minho followed him, but you were too busy looking the other way. You saw the entrance to a restaurant, it had a vintage decoration and you definitely wanted to go there. "Y/N," you heard Jisung whispering, calling your name, but you ignored him. "Fuck," Jisung said, following you. You stepped into the restaurant, admiring the place. The decoration had a 60's vibe. There was a huge balcony with some seats in front of it. Next to the balcony, there were five tables, that kind of table that had couches around it so people could sit together. The color faded but you could see it was pink. At the end of the corridor that was made by the balcony and the tables, there was a bathroom. It was small but so cute, you loved it. "Y/N, I don't think you should be alone in this place. What if there's someone here,  maybe a serial killer?" Jisung said when he saw you. "Look around. This is why I wanted to come. This place is beautiful." "Yeah, I must admit that's pretty cool, but I really think we should look for the others." Suddenly, you had an idea. It was bold, way too bold, even for you.

"Jisung, why did you come after me?" "Huh?" he asked you, not understanding your question. "I said..." you paused, getting closer to him. "Why did you come after me and didn't went with the others?" "I didn't want to leave you alone." "Why?" you tilted your head, seeing Jisung's cheeks reddening. "B-because it's dangerous." he stuttered. You pressed him against the balcony, locking him between two seats and your body. "Y/N, what are you doing?" his eyes widened. "You are so cute, did you know that?" "Y-yeah, of course, I know," you couldn't help but laugh at his attempt to look presumptuous. You grinned, running your hands through his hair. Jisung leaned into your touch. You got on your knees in front of him, holding on to his belt while you tried to unbuckle it. "Y-Y/N?" he asked. You pulled his pants down to the floor without fully taking them off and started to do the same with his boxers, freeing his dick. It was a thick, average-sized dick, with a pink tip begging you to put your tongue on it. "Somebody it's excited," you teased him. You could hear him whimpering and you smirked. You held his shaft, running your hand up and down. Jisung let out a little moan, giving you the confidence to keep going. After teasing him a little, you ran your tongue from his balls to his head, sucking on it and swallowing his precum. You kept sucking on his head while you rubbed your hand up and down on his dick. Jisung placed his hand on the back of your neck, holding tight on your hair. You bobbed your head up and down, hearing how Jisung couldn't control his moans no more. For a moment you were scared that someone would enter the restaurant and see you sucking Jisung's cock, but it lowkey turned you on even more. "Y/N, I-I'm gonna cum," he said breathlessly. You sucked harder on his dick and started to touch his balls. Jisung gave you one last moan before you felt his hot cum, some of it slipping out of the corner of your mouth. You swallowed all you could and then used your finger to collect the rest that escaped your mouth. You felt your knees aching because of the floor, but when you lifted your head and saw the look on Jisung's face, and you thought it was worth it. His cheeks were red, he had sweat on his forehead, he looked at you with desire on his eyes. You got up, running your hand on your knees to take the dust off. "Let's keep this between you and me, okay?" you told him. "Okay." You left the restaurant with a smile, knowing that now you had a little secret with Jisung.

Author’s note: thank you so much for reading, I hope you liked it and feedback is always welcome.

[skzsauce01]

Ruin My Life

Synopsis: Six times you and Minho “ruin” each other’s lives, and the one time you almost actually did ruin his. 

Warning: none

Word Count: 3.9k

Pairing: fem!reader x Lee Minho; friends to lovers

one

Minho always looks like trouble, but he especially looks the part when he dresses as a greaser for Halloween. The entire hallway looks his way when he enters the building even though the low 7:30 AM sunlight blinds their eyes when he opens the door. He has a lollipop in his mouth in place of a cigarette, and when he gives a curt “Good morning” nod in your direction, the girl beside you pretends to swoon.

“Hello, Danny,” she mutters to herself, mimicking an Australian twang. She’s conveniently dressed like Sandy in a poodle skirt and cardigan. “I’d let you ruin my life.”

When you tell Minho about what you heard after school, he laughs so hard he almost falls off the wall he’s sitting on. “Seriously?”

You take a bag of pretzels from the shared pile of treats between you two and rip it open. “Yes! I can give you her name if you’re interested,” you say, half-hoping that he doesn’t actually want it. “What a weird thing to say though.”

He shakes his head and holds his hand out for a pretzel. “No thanks to the name. I think Chan’s supposed to be Danny, so I’m not her summer fling that don’t mean a thing.” He waits for you to drop three in his open palm and, with complete mockery, says, “But I’d let you ruin my life.”

You shoot him a disgusted look, and he laughs.

“Aren’t you glad I made you watch Grease?” you transition. “So who are you? A T-bird? Someone from The Outsiders? Just a generic greaser?”

“Generic greaser, I guess. What are you?”

You point at the pointy, black hat perched on your head and say in disbelief, “I’m a witch!”

The corner of his mouth quirks up, and you know you have just walked into a trap. “No, I meant your Halloween costume.”

“Get bent, you jerk,” you roll your eyes.

However, the pretzel you throw at him doesn’t stop him from chortling at his own joke.

two

You agree to feed Minho’s three cats the following weekend while he and his family have a last-minute emergency out of town. You show up to his doorstep on a late Thursday afternoon to say your regards, but everyone in the Lee household is in pandemonium. You slink past his mother to Minho’s room where Soonie and Dori are lying on his bed. Minho himself is packing a duffel bag.

You knock on his already open door to alert him of your presence. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he replies, looking up. “Sorry about this. I would have asked someone who lived closer, but my mom doesn’t trust anyone else with the house key.”

“It’s okay. I like playing with Dori.” You’re still standing at the threshold, feeling too shy to enter now that you’re both older, and you crane your neck to see farther inside. “Where’s Doongie?”

“Under the desk. You can come in.”

“Right.”

You settle into his desk chair and pick up Doongie to pet. There’s nothing else to do, and you scan his walls for something to look at. Your eyes land on his calendar where there are reminders for the biology exam next week and the dance competition at the end of the month. You want to ask if everything’s alright, but it feels insensitive to pry.

“My mom made you dinner,” he says. “To thank you. It’s on the dining table.”

You smile as you remember all the times you stayed over for dinner at Minho’s when you were younger. His mom made the best japchae. “Tell her thanks for me.”

“Will do.”

“Minho!” you hear his mom shout. “We’re leaving!”

Minho heaves his bag over his shoulder and gives you a small smile. “Thanks for doing this. My offer of letting you ruin my life still stands, by the way.”

You snort at the comment, which makes Doongie jump off your lap, which makes you and Minho burst into laughter. “Yeah, well, what are best friends for? I’ll see you Monday?”

“Yeah. Key’s on the coffee table, by the way. And you know where the cat food is right?”

“I got it. I’ll be the best cat sitter ever.” You stand up and give him a hug. “Everything’s going to be okay, Minho.”

He holds you a little longer, and you can feel his heartbeat against your cheek. It’s surprisingly erratic, and yours begins to match in tempo.

“Thanks,” he repeats, finally pulling away.

You stand awkwardly at the foot of his bed and give him another smile as he starts to leave.

His foot has just stepped into the hallway when his mom yells again, “Lee Minho!”

“Coming!” he shouts back. He turns back to you, like he wants to say one more thing. “Don’t forget to eat or else she’ll think I didn’t tell you and get mad. And send me pictures of the cats!”

He disappears before you can even nod, and you hear the front door swing shut. You sit back down and idly spin in his chair, enjoying its cushiness. You’re not hungry yet, so you reach for Dori, who eagerly snuggles into your arms, and snap a picture to send to Minho.

Dori loves me more. Consider your life ruined.

three

The day before the biology exam you’re back at Minho’s house. Two open textbooks and an array of different colored pens decorate the dining table surface while two lazy cats lie on the floor beneath. You flip through your notes for the lesson from two days ago. In the meantime, Minho is frantically shuffling through your flashcards.

He abruptly groans after turning a card around and slumps back into his chair. “I’m so screwed. My test average is already bad, so this is just gonna make it worse. I barely remember what we covered today.”

Minho’s version of bad is everyone’s above average, but it’s unlike him to complain about his scores because he knows it. “Is everything alright?” you ask. “You don’t have to answer, but you seem off.”

“You remember that emergency last week?”

Your eyebrows shoot up, and you try to arrange your facial expression into something less obvious. “Yeah?”

“Well, it’s not about that.” He looks over to see you caught between relief and annoyance. He grins for a few seconds and then turns slightly more serious. “Dance team stuff. Someone got injured, so we have to fix the routine.”

You nod sagely. “That sucks.”

“Yeah, but my bio grade doesn’t have to.” With a newfound sense of energy, he straightens up and dives back into reading flashcards. “Thanks for letting me borrow your notes. I’d let you ruin my life.”

He says it with the same joking manner as last time, but you don’t answer in the same way. “I don’t think you need any help with that,” you say as you hold up his quiz from a few days ago. There’s a big, red 79% circled at the top and ugly slashes through the numbers of incorrectly answered questions.

He shrinks and makes a face at the low score. “In my defense, I was busy with dance, and it’s at least passing.”

“Well, your 90% test average is suffering.” You shut the textbooks and motion for him to put down the cards. “Tell me about lysosomes.”

“92, but alright. Lysosomes—”

When the tests are passed back another week later, you and Minho gather around your locker after school to compare scores.

He counts down, and you steadily lean in closer in anticipation. “Okay. 3… 2… 1!”

“95!” “95%!”

There’s a brief second where the two of you process each other’s grades before both of you burst into cheers about not only having matching scores but also good matching scores.

“Yogurt place or cafe?” you ask. It’s been a longstanding tradition between you and Minho to get celebratory desserts for receiving scores over 90. “I have a coupon for the new froyo place.”

Minho shakes his head dejectedly, and your heart sinks. You rarely have an excuse to hang out with him outside of school nowadays.

“I’ve got practice in” — he checks his phone — “in fifteen minutes. Raincheck or I’ll bring you coffee tomorrow morning?”

You brighten up at the prospect of Minho-delivered coffee. “Coffee. Definitely coffee.”

He nods and waves goodbye to you. “See you then.”

“Don’t be late tomorrow!”

four

Because you knew that you were getting coffee delivered to you, you didn’t have any before heading to school and are currently fighting the urge to fall asleep standing up. The bright sunlight that comes in whenever anyone walks into the building greatly helps.

“Morning,” Minho greets, a cardboard cup carrier in his hand.

You spot your drink and eagerly snatch out of its place. “I’d let you ruin my life,” you sigh, too happy to snap at Minho’s smirk at the use of the phrase. You notice the red and gold label wrapped around the cup. “You went to the expensive cafe too? Goodness, how much does this cost?”

“10,000 won.”

“There’s no way it was that expensive!” you argue.

“Delivery fee.” He sips on his own coffee while he waits for you to hand him his money.

You pull out your wallet and give him half of what he wants. “There’s no way it was more than 5,000.”

He smiles and pockets the money. “4,000 actually.” Before you can demand your change, he looks at an invisible watch around his wrist and says, “Can’t be late. See you.”

He takes off before you can protest, and you moodily drink your coffee instead. At least it’s good and full of caffeine.

Lia, the one who dressed as Sandy for Halloween and the person who just witnessed highway robbery, steps closer and asks, “Was that your boyfriend?”

At the word ‘boyfriend,’ you heat up. You snort and shake your head. “Boyfriends don’t overcharge their girlfriends for a drink. He’s my friend.”

“He seems sweet,” she says.

You’re about to correct her when your phone buzzes in your pocket. You fish it out and smile when you see the notification on your lockscreen.

Lee Minho paid you ₩1,000 - delivery fee has been revoked

“He’s sweet, I guess.”

Lee Minho requests ₩1,000 - jk

“Never mind.”

five

You can’t believe you let Minho talk you into attending one of his dance competitions. It’s not that you’re not supportive of him and his extracurriculars, but none of your friends are free this weekend, so you have to sit in the audience by yourself. You’re not exactly lonely, but you certainly feel out of place. It’s also not fun once you remember that you have a stack of homework waiting on your desk.

When they announce your school’s team to the stage, you join the applause and shout your friend’s name as loud as you can. Minho somehow manages to pick you out of the crowd and nods at you in acknowledgement. Even though you know he can’t clearly see it, you mouth, “Good luck,” to him.

When the spectacular performance is over, you clap and shout his name again. It’s the last performance, and you anxiously wait while the judges deliberate the winner. You text some votes of confidence to Minho in the meantime. Soon all the teams gather in the room. The feedback from the head judge’s microphone quickly silences the whispers.

They’re not third.

Or second.

Or first.

They’re fifth.

You look over at Minho, who is patting his team members on a job well done. He’s smiling goodnaturedly, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. You grab the bouquet of flowers you bought for him and head down to the ground floor like many others are doing.

Heart thumping, you tap him on the shoulder and hold the bouquet out to him. “Hey. Congrats on making top five,” you joke in an attempt to cheer him up.

“Thanks, I guess. It went better than we expected, but you know, first is ideal,” he shrugs. He points at the flowers in your hands, melancholy nearly gone. “Did you buy those from the supermarket?”

“Would it be better if I said I stole them from the neighbor’s garden?”

“Did you really?”

“No.”

“Lame.” He takes them anyway. “I didn’t think you would actually come.”

You again think back to the stack of homework you have and the amount of studying and procrastinating you had planned to do at home. “Me neither.”

“Thanks for coming though.” He pauses for a bit, and you already know what the next line he says will be. “I’d let you ruin my life.”

“You’re already ruining mine.”

Like you’re both in kindergarten again, he shoves you in retaliation — lightly though because he doesn’t actually want to hurt you — and knowing you can’t push him as easily, you stick your tongue at him. He is soon called away for a group photo, and he volunteers you to take it. You do so, and after, with the help of a team member, you and Minho get a picture together with the fifth place trophy. You both smile at the camera, but you’re gently elbowing each other in the ribs all the while.

A minute later, he shows you his phone screen, and you see his post of the recent picture.

being number five and ruining lives, reads the caption.

You like the post anyway and end up setting that photo as your lockscreen.

six

“I hate this,” Minho mumbles to you, his breath making clouds in the winter air. “Why do they do this to us?”

You walk alongside him, trudging at the same snail’s pace as he is. “I know,” you reply. “C’mon, let’s just get it over with so we can leave.”

You drag him by the arm to the front of the giant Christmas tree. He puts an arm around your shoulder and you an arm around his waist. The two of you plaster wide grins on each of your faces while your respective mothers snap photos of their children in matching outfits. The fathers have learned to disappear once they have arrived at the outdoor mall, and you wish you and Minho decided to slip away before the current situation.

“I hate this tradition,” you say through your teeth. You wince when someone’s flash goes off, the light blinding in the night.

“Me too. This vest looks so stupid.”

“The bow around my neck agrees.”

It happens every year, but you and Minho never grow tired of complaining. Your mothers, best friends themselves, insist on documenting the friendship of their children, so you and Minho are subjected to ridiculous Christmas Eve photos in front of the same tree every year. For whatever reason, neither of you have ever rebelled and refused. Darn people-pleasing personalities.

When your parents are satisfied with the results, you and Minho rush to partially get rid of your outfits. Minho unbuttons his vest, cursing at his cold fingers, and you fumble with the knotted ribbon around your frilly shirt collar. Of course you decide to cut your nails the day before.

“Y/N?” someone says. “Is that you?”

You look up from your ribbon and see it's one of your classmates. “Oh, hey, Lia,” you greet. You point at her bags. “Last minute shopping?”

She sheepishly nods. “I like your dress, by the way.” You don’t miss the way her eyes flicker back and forth from you to Minho. “Do you guys know you’re matching?”

“It’s a stupid tradition,” Minho interjects. His vest is draped over one arm and the other is busy loosening his tie. He looks at the limp bow around your neck. “Do you need help?”

“Yes.”

Lia shoots you a knowing smile and starts turning away. “I gotta go, but it was nice seeing you guys. I’ll see you after break. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas,” you say back, more concerned with getting the cursed ribbon off than goodbyes. Minho echoes the sentiment.

You tilt your chin up and let Minho take a stab at the knot. Whenever his cold hands accidentally brush against your neck, you flinch and your pulse jumps. You hear him swearing under his breath over how tight the knot is, and you meekly apologize and feel yourself grow warm. Everyone’s staring at the spectacle, but you want the stupid thing so badly you don’t care.

“Why did tie it so tightly?” he mutters, finally managing to pull it apart. “I think my hands are cramping.”

“I’d let you ruin my life,” you mockingly say before dropping the act. “But thanks for real.”

“Only for you.” He smirks. “You have to get the dads though.”

You groan. He really does want to ruin your life. You and Minho’s dads are notoriously hard to convince to leave the mall once they’ve found a nice spot to eat and chat. “Anything else,” you plead.

He shakes his head. “No. I did it last year too.”

You take his hand and drag him with you, despite his protests. His fingers are still chilly, but his palms are surprisingly warm. He mutters about your own cold hands at the same time, but you’re too preoccupied with scanning the mall for your fathers to say something witty back. You accompanied him last year, and he would do the same to you this year.

As expected, Minho gives you dirty looks while you spend fifteen minutes begging and waiting for the dads to hurry up. You innocently smile back all the while.

seven

You spent a good portion of your winter break at Minho’s house, playing with his cats, eating his mom’s delicious japchae, and lamenting about school starting up again. School is in session now, and you wait for your first period teacher to open the door as you scroll through your phone outside in the hallway. Minho stops by to return the scarf you left at his house, and to your delight, there’s free coffee that comes with it. He puts the emphasis on ‘free.’

“I’d let you ruin my life,” you say, taking it from him. It’s from the expensive cafe again. “Wow, what’s the special occasion?”

“Just ‘cause,” he replies. “See you after school.”

“See you.”

What a weird way to begin the day. You wonder if Minho’s done anything to the drink; no way he would give you something for free. However, when you cautiously taste it, there’s nothing out of the ordinary. You swirl it to further check, but there’s still nothing.

Even though he said it was free, you still send him the money anyway.

A few minutes later, Lia shows up and says good morning. The two of you idly discuss winter break, and you both find out that neither of you did anything interesting.

“Are you going to go?” Lia asks. She points at the giant poster advertising winter formal tickets.

You shrug and sip on your Minho-delivered coffee. It still tastes normal, and you’re not sure what to make of it. “I don’t know. I don’t have anyone to go with.”

“Aren’t you dating that guy I saw you matching outfits with at Christmas? I don’t know if I already told you, but those were cute outfits.”

“Nope. He’s still my friend.”

“Is that disappointment I hear?” she teases. At your stuttering attempts to retort, she laughs. “I’m kidding. But he is cute.”

“Do you still want him to ruin your life?”

“You heard that?” she groans. “Oh my goodness, that’s embarrassing.”

When you tell Minho what happened after school, he doesn’t laugh. It’s not particularly funny anyway, but he usually smiles a little. Today he’s stony. “So is that your answer?”

“My answer to what?” you bewilderedly ask. You think back to morning and even when you were last back at his house only to come up blank with what he can be referring to. “What did you ask?”

Realization hits him. “You didn’t read the coffee label, did you?”

The cup has long been tossed into the trash by now. “Was I supposed to be? What did you ask?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” he quickly brushes off. He hops down off the wall. “I gotta go to practice.”

“Wait!” you call after him but he runs off.

A few minutes later, you find yourself digging through the trash can you threw your empty cup in earlier. Luckily, it’s mostly filled with paper cuttings and other coffee cups. However, the latex gloves you borrowed from your biology teacher don’t lessen your disgust, especially when leftover liquid drips out. Your teacher watches on in amusement as you scrutinize every one.

“This must be a very important piece of trash,” she remarks.

“It is. Oh! It’s this one!”

The label is stained with coffee, and you can just barely make out Minho’s handwriting in black ink. Why did he have to write it so small? No wonder why you didn’t notice it earlier. You hold up the cup higher to the light, and your eyes grow wide as you read the message.

want to ruin my life forever and be more than friends? will you go to winter formal with me?

You nearly drop it in your surprise. Oh goodness. You really, really messed up.

Your heart threatens to beat out of your ribcage, and every part of you is buzzing with adrenaline. Minho likes you in that special way, and you…

You…

You kind of feel the same?

Yes?

Wait, no?

No!

You definitely feel the same.

You hurriedly thank your teacher for her help and rush out of the classroom with Minho’s cup in your hand. You have to fix this now. You burst into the dance practice area, out of breath, and everyone looks at you in confusion.

“Yes! The answer is yes, Minho!” you shout and triumphantly hold out the cup.

The dance captain looks back and forth between your panting frame and Minho’s frozen figure. “Let’s take a five minute break?” he says, more of a suggestion than an order.

You walk over to Minho while everyone else disperses. He meets you halfway. His mouth is open, like he wants to say something, but no words come out.

You smile at him and thrust the cup into his hands. “Hi. The answer is yes to both questions.”

“But you said you told Lia we were just friends,” he breathlessly says, like he can’t believe this is happening.

“Well, we were just friends ten hours ago. I didn’t realize I wanted to be more than your best friend until I read your note.”

A hesitant smile creeps up onto his face. “I didn’t think you would actually take me up on my offer of ruining my life. I thought I screwed it all up by even asking.”

“No! I really like you,” you blurt out. “Like really, really. And I think I have for a long time now. It just… took awhile for me to find out.”

“I like you too, life ruiner.”

You try to playfully push him, but he wraps you in a hug before you can even touch him. You squirm in his grasp and giggle when he holds you even tighter.

“Life ruiner, life ruiner,” he chants in your ear. “And you’re all mine now.”

~ ad.gray

[whumpmatsus]

Hi! 👋 Two things! First, a fic request (again Ichimatsu whump because I'm sorry but I have to): Ichimatsu takes a hit meant for one of his brothers (be it accidental or on purpose) and is pretty badly injured. Cue the rest of the Matsu Bros. to the rescue!

And second, um...would you be okay with it if, let's just say hypothetically, I made fan art of some of these fics? 😺

FIRST OF ALL thank you for this because it's LITERALLY the longest thing I've written on this blog so far!! so I hope u enjoy it fully uwu

Matsu Bros plus a cameo by Mama Matsu!! <3

second... YESSSS THAT IS ALWAYS DEFINITELY OKAY!!! aaaaaaa you flatter me <3 <3 <3

-

When Ichimatsu first wakes up in the hospital, he doesn’t remember why he’s here. Hell, he barely even remembers who he is.

All he really knows initially is that he’s in a lot of pain. It hurts to breathe, his face is kind of numb in spots, and his leg feels weirdly positioned, plus heavy and uncomfortable. His shoulder feels kind of sore… as does his wrist.

There’s also some strange fog drifting around his mind that’s making it difficult to really focus on anything.

He feels a hand in his own. Not very tight… he thinks it’s someone giving just enough pressure to let him know they’re here. That he’s not alone. That’s comforting, he thinks.

Then he starts to remember things.

He was out walking with some of the others; Karamatsu and maybe Totty? What they were doing is a little fuzzy and isn’t coming to him instantly. He just recalls they were together, walking on the sidewalk. They came to a crosswalk and waited their turn. Karamatsu, as the eldest out of the three, stepped forward first to cross.

Ichimatsu thinks Karamatsu’s intention was that he would hold Totty’s hand to keep the youngest safe while they crossed, and Ichimatsu could follow after them. He doesn’t believe Totty had any objections.

They waited. They followed all the rules they were supposed to. The crosswalk light told them they were allowed to go.

It was someone else who broke the rules, tearing through a stop sign, the car headed right for his brothers. He… thinks he remembers Totty had only just come forward to grab Karamatsu’s hand, so he wasn’t quite there yet. Karamatsu was the one in the most danger.

He doesn’t remember much else. Running forward, pushing his baby brother behind him and yelling for his big brother to move.Then an impact. A lot of pain. Black and nothingness and warmth.

Now he’s awake. Putting the pieces together, he’s pretty sure he shoved Karamatsu forward and ended up getting hit by that car.

He thinks, in his haze, that the car should have hit Karamatsu, because he was the one who went first, because things happened so fast. But he’s glad it didn’t happen that way.

A couple groans catch the attention of whoever’s in the room, and he gets a squeeze to the hand. “Ichimatsu? Honey? Are you awake?”

“Mmh…” It hurts a little to move his head. He does it anyway, getting a glimpse of his mother. “… Mom…?”

It looks like she’s smiling… relieved, maybe. “Yes! Yes, my sweet boy, Mama is here.” She reaches her free hand over to gently stroke his hair. It feels nice. “Thank goodness. How do you feel?”

He closes his eyes. “I hurt.”

“Well, I should hope so! I’d be worried if you weren’t in a lot of pain right now. Do you remember what happened?”

Although he tries to move around, it’s difficult simply because it’s so painful. “Uh, yeah, kind of… I got… hit by a car, right? ― H… hey… Karamatsu and Totty… where are they? Are they okay?”

“Yes, dear, they’re both fine. Karamatsu has a couple of scrapes, but nothing serious. You, on the other hand, are lucky, young man. You’ve got a broken leg, a couple of broken ribs, and a broken wrist. You did have a dislocated shoulder, but they got that back into place. The doctor said it could have been much worse. She said you got off easy compared to some people who get hit by a car.”

She combs his bangs back in a way that mitigates any anger or frustration in her next words. “What were you thinking?”

“The car was coming for Karamatsu…” He frowns as the memory surfaces again, in slightly better detail. Damn. “… And Totty didn’t see it… he was gonna step out, too…”

Everything seemed to happen so fast. How the hell did he manage to get his older brother out of the way and keep his younger brother out of the way when everything happened so fast?

Matsuyo sighs and continues stroking his hair. “Oh, I know… they were both in tears when we all arrived. Totty was inconsolable… saying that Karamatsu would be dead if you hadn’t run forward and that he thought you were dead because you weren’t responding. I should be mad that you scared your brothers… but…”

She leans forward to kiss his forehead. “… You did a brave thing, Ichimatsu. Mama is very proud of you. I just don’t like any of you boys hurt… if you’re inclined to do this again, pull the other person back instead of taking their place. You silly boy,” she adds with an affectionate smile.

“Hah…” he laughs weakly, wincing at the pain in his chest. “Sorry, Mom. Everything hurts… I wanna go home.”

“Mhm, they’ll probably let you go pretty soon now that you’re awake. That’s the main thing they were waiting for, I think.” She moves her hand down to pat lightly at his forearm.

“Don’t worry. You’ll be home before you know it, and your family will take good care of you.”

-

Coming home is kind of weird.

Ichimatsu can’t really walk on his own. Since his leg is broken, the doctor gave him a crutch that he can use with his good hand, but it’s an awkward movement and leaves him feeling unbalanced. It’s just easier to lean on one of his brothers to walk ― in this case, Choromatsu has volunteered to help if Ichimatsu needs to walk somewhere. Though… he gets the feeling that the others would be more than happy to volunteer if the third eldest were somehow busy when he needs to get up.

Every motion, from sitting up to reaching for things to just breathing, is painful thanks to the broken ribs. There’s nothing that can really be done for those, so he’s evidently got to just suffer. He remembers the doctor saying they should feel quite a bit better in a couple of weeks. Most of this is going to take a month or more to fully heal, which is… according to Osomatsu, a ‘major boner-killer’.

Sitting around doing nothing but being in pain is going to be the end of Ichimatsu. He’s sure of that. He can’t go outside to feed the cats, and it’s difficult to cuddle with them inside with all his injuries. That alone is pretty depressing.

The pain medication they sent him home with is also a little frustrating. The first time he takes it, it makes him so tired he sleeps right through dinner.

He falls asleep on the couch in the spare room, he knows, because it’s where he has to be set up for now. There’s noway he can sleep in the futon with everyone else while he tries to heal; that runs the risk of running into someone, or having one of his brothers accidentally run into him.

His leg’s in a cast and his wrist is in a splint, to protect them as they fix themselves, but if those areas have someone roll onto them, it’ll probably result in more damage. Which means more pain and more time added to his recovery.

It’s apparently a bad idea to sleep on the couch. When he wakes up, everything is sore and screaming in pain. Justified, unfortunately, since he fell asleep in the same position he was relaxing in.

Someone else… is here? There’s something warm pressed up against his side.

He glances over to find that he’s evidently been resting on Karamatsu’s shoulder, likely for a while given that Karamatsu’s eyes are closed too. It looks dark out, and Ichimatsu’s foggy mind busies itself wondering what time it is.

There’s a soft chuckle beside him, and looking over reveals one of his big brother’s eyes is cracked open now. It’s swiftly followed by the other one, then the sudden absence of a pressure around his shoulder makes him aware that Karamatsu had an arm around him. “Awake, hm?”

“Yeah…” He tries to stretch, stopped short when a jolting pain in his chest reminds him that it’s definitely a bad idea. “Oww. I don’t even remember falling asleep.”

“That’s alright. You started to get a bit drowsy about half an hour after Osomatsu-nii-san gave you your medicine. We saved you a plate from dinner, though, if you want me to go warm it up.”

Ichimatsu blinks. “I slept through dinner?? Shit. How late is it right now?”

His brother shifts a bit more to take out his phone. “Hm… a bit after midnight.”

“Midnight?” Well, fuck. Although he can justify an hour nap or so, he’s just slept like six hours. He missed dinner, he missed going to the bathhouse, he missed maybe a game of cards before bed.

Karamatsu laughs again, his hand tousling Ichimatsu’s hair fondly. “That’s right, my brother. Don’t worry. Osomatsu-nii-san said fatigue is a side effect of your medicine, and your body needs sleep right now, anyway. So, are you hungry? Mommy made soba and yakitori for dinner, but if you’d rather have something else, just say the word. Your wish is my command!”

Honestly… he’s not really that hungry. He knows he should probably eat; his stomach is just trying to tell him not to have anything heavy. Another side effect of the medication, maybe. “Are you… sure? I kind of just feel like plain miso and rice. Other stuff doesn’t sound good.”

“Of course! I’d be delighted to go heat some up. You simply rest and I’ll…” When he goes to stand up, something catches Ichimatsu’s eye, and he grabs his brother’s hand, weakly, with his own injured one. It’s painful, but…

Karamatsu’s eyes focus on his younger brother, brows furrowing. “Ichimatsu? What’s the matter?”

It’s… that cut on Karamatsu’s face. Ichimatsu didn’t notice it before. Now that he’s a bit more alert, it’s practically all he can see. It’s not very big, maybe the length of one of their little fingers, and not deep. It looks like a scrape from falling off one’s bike or something. He thinks maybe it had a bandage on it at one point. The color has faded into something dull; the skin around is still bright pink, though, suggesting that it’s irritated despite not being cut.

His gaze shifts down to find similar wounds on Karamatsu’s hands. On the palms, where he probably got a sort of road rash when he tried to catch himself after Ichimatsu pushed him out of the way.

His own wrist protests with a violent throb as he reaches to let his fingers graze lightly over Karamatsu’s wrist. Image after image of what might have happened to him if Ichimatsu wasn’t fast enough comes unbidden into his head. Karamatsu could be the one with a broken leg or broken ribs, or it could have been worse.

“Y… you’re okay… right?” As soon as those words are out of his mouth, tears start spilling. All at once he’s pulled into a hug, loose fists resting against his back. He can’t stop himself from leaning in, pressing his face against Karamatsu’s shoulder.

He can feel the soft rumble of mirthless laughter his big brother gives. “You’re the one who was hurt, Ichimatsu. I’m only okay because of you. If you hadn’t seen… I wasn’t paying attention…”

The words, “It should have been me”, hang heavily in the air even though Karamatsu doesn’t say them.

He brushes a delicate kiss over the side of his little brother’s forehead. “Heh… you would have been a better big brother than me. You kept us all safe when I failed. You probably saved my life, you know. Thank you.”

Ichimatsu isn’t sure why it’s now that the full weight of everything has hit him. Now, when he’s home and out of danger, when everything is okay. Shouldn’t he have been falling apart when he first woke up in the hospital? It shouldn’t have taken seeing Karamatsu’s small injuries to remind him that they all could have died when he’s the one in a cast.

It’s hard to keep himself together, to keep his breathing normal so he doesn’t completely go to pieces. (Though, if he did, what better place to do so than in his older brother’s arms?) “… You’d do the same for me, right? So it’s only fair.”

“I would,” Karamatsu hums. “Without a second thought. You’re my little brother and I love you very much and if I could save you from being hurt, I would. I’m… sorry I was so careless that I couldn’t do it this time.”

Ichimatsu grunts, slipping his good arm around Karamatsu’s waist in an effort to be closer. “Don’t feel too bad. The next car’ll be yours.”

-

After eating as much as he feels like he can, Ichimatsu allows Karamatsu to help transfer him to the floor. It’s already set up with a spare futon, a blanket, and a pillow, probably because someone guessed that sleeping on the sofa wouldn’t be comfortable.

He’s still in so much pain. The shoulder that was reduced back into place aches like an old war wound, and his chest is sore even when he’s lying still. To say nothing of his wrist and his leg. His whole body feels like one giant bruise, except worse.

Although Karamatsu insists he’d be just fine to stand guard all night, after a few minutes Choromatsu comes in and sends him back to the bedroom. Ichimatsu doesn’t hear too much of the conversation ― mostly whispers that Karamatsu needs to go get some sleep, that Choromatsu is glad to take a turn.

Soon enough, though, Karamatsu relents and comes to tell Ichimatsu goodnight before he leaves the room. Ichimatsu gets one more kiss on the head and a reassuring squeeze to his good hand and exchanges another round of “I love you”s with his brother, then heads into the bedroom.

Choromatsu came prepared, setting his own pillow up on the couch and tossing a blanket at the end just in case he needs it. “So… how are you feeling, Ichimatsu?”

“Mm… like crap, kinda.” He looks over to where his brother is trying to get settled in. “I can’t believe I slept six hours and I’m still tired. What kind of shit did they put me on?”

“Hah… y-yeah, it’s the good stuff, probably. Is it at least helping the pain a little?”

“A little. Like Mom said before we left the hospital, I… guess it’d be more worrying if I wasn’t in pain right now. I did get hit by a car.”

Choromatsu leans forward and places a cautious hand on his little brother’s head. Once that earns him no punishment, he gingerly combs through Ichimatsu’s hair. It certainly feels relaxing. “You sure did. I… I can’t believe you kept both Karamatsu and Totty safe. Adrenaline’s a… a weird thing, huh? I’m glad you’re all okay. Hopefully the pain medicine will work better once you’ve had a few doses.”

“Mh. I hope so.”

“Yeah. For now, just, uh… just try to get some more sleep, okay? Your body needs a lot of rest while you’re healing.”

Yep, that’s what Karamatsu said, too. Two of his brothers saying the same thing can’t be wrong. … Well, they could be, but it would be weird. “I’ll try. Thanks for… being here. I dunno that I’d really want to sleep alone for the whole night. Guess Totty’s rubbing off on me.”

A low chuckle leaves Choromatsu as Ichimatsu closes his eyes. The sound of rustling suggests that his older brother has laid down and pulled a blanket over himself as well.

After a moment of quiet between them, Ichimatsu becomes keenly aware of a sensation that definitely isn’t going to allow him to sleep. “Uuuugh. Shit.”

“Huh?” Choromatsu is sitting up in an instant, ready to practically spring out of his skin. “What’s wrong, Ichimatsu?”

“― My leg itches.”

“O-oh. So… scratch it??”

He throws his head back in frustration. “No, the one with the Goddamn cast on it.”

“Ohhh. Okay, uh, well…” Choromatsu gets up and rummages through one of the drawers for a few seconds.

After that, a pencil is pressed into Ichimatsu’s good hand with a smile. “Here, try this. Stick the eraser end down in the little space between your leg and the cast, then keep moving it. If the itch is high enough up, it should help.”

Ichimatsu raises an eyebrow at the advice. Well. What’s he got to lose, after all? He spends a moment trying to get the itch scratched after slipping the pencil down, and finally he sighs in relief. “Fuck, that’s a lot better. How’d you know that was gonna work?”

Choromatsu grins self-consciously, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Ah, well… remember when I broke my arm? When I went for my checkup, I had this itch inside the cast that was driving me nuts. So the nurse showed me this trick. It doesn’t always work, but…”

“Huh… well… thanks.” After everything, he’s just really tired and ready to sleep now. He would cross his fingers that nothing else disturbs him if he felt like moving at all.

“Heh, no problem. All good now?”

“I think so.” When he sees his brother straighten up to head back to the couch, his brain evidently thinks it’s good to say something. “H… hey. Choromatsu?”

Choromatsu looks back down, concern etched on his features. “Ah, yeah? What’s up?”

His heart is hammering so fast it feels like it’s trying to break more of his ribs. He doesn’t really want to embarrass himself. It’s just… he feels… “Can you… can you… stay for a minute? Down here?”

“Oh… yeah, sure. I can’t stay too long… I-I can’t sleep next to you. I might accidentally hurt you.” Even so, he lowers himself back down, sitting cross-legged and reaching to stroke Ichimatsu’s hair.

He nods. That’s part of the problem. Even though he normally wouldn’t have much complaint about being left to his own devices… he’s used to sleeping next to his brothers. Right on the end beside Karamatsu. When he’s not feeling well, being absent from them is apparently not doing him any favors. “I know. It’s just…”

His eyes drift closed once more. It must be the medicine making him feel out of it and way too honest. “… I think I’m gonna get lonely sleeping like this.”

“O-oh… gosh.” He can practically hear the frown in Choromatsu’s voice. The other man’s hand combs through his hair, a rhythmic and repetitive motion that makes him sleepy again. “I can probably… sleep like this, propped up against the couch. Is that okay?”

“Mmmh… I don’t want you to have to do that… you’ll make your back sore.”

He chuckles. “Ah, I-I think I can handle it. Even if that’s true, it’d be worth it to me so you don’t have to feel lonely. It’s the least I can do for my little brother.”

“I can’t stop you,” Ichimatsu mumbles. Sleep is scrabbling its tiny, strong fingers at him, trying to pull him down. It’s getting hard to resist. “If you want…”

“Yeah… yeah, I wanna do this for you.” Choromatsu leans down to press a small kiss to the top of Ichimatsu’s head. “Hey. Love you, Ichimacchan. Try to get some rest, okay?”

He doesn’t have to tell Ichimatsu twice. Within a minute of Choromatsu’s urging, he’s fallen back into a peaceful darkness.

-

When Ichimatsu wakes up the next morning, Choromatsu’s presence has been replaced by Jyushimatsu’s.

As much as he loves his immediate older brother, he doesn’t have any complaints. He and Jyushimatsu are very close, and his younger brother being here is pretty soothing to wake up to.

He’s uncharacteristically quiet, though that’s not to say he isn’t his usual energetic self. He appears to be flipping through baseball cards, maybe organizing them in his little album, humming to himself. There’s also one hand free to play with Ichimatsu’s hair, which he supposes is why he still feels relaxed.

“Hey, Jyushi.” His body reminds him why stretching is a bad idea right now, so he settles for arching his back a little in an effort to make something pop. Everything is sore. Even that little bit of movement hurts his ribs enough that he has trouble catching his breath for a minute. “Fuck… morning.”

“Oh! Yeah, it is morning!” Jyushimatsu is chipper as always, though when he leans in for a hug, he’s surprisingly gentle. “How’d you sleep, Ichimatsu-nii-san?”

“Okay, I guess. I still hurt a bunch.”

“Yeahhhh, you were crying in your sleep! But it’s okay! Because guess what? Jyushi is here!” He grins, nuzzling his cheek against Ichimatsu’s. It’s a bit weird, but par for the course as far as Jyushimatsu is concerned. Besides, the hug is nice after the fear of being lonely last night. “Did you have nightmares, huh?”

Now that he mentions it… yep. Ichimatsu’s dreams, or what he remembers of them, were filled with horrible things. The memory of being hit by the car, or the images of either Karamatsu or Totty being hit because he wasn’t fast enough.

He recalls one piece of a dream which involved looking into his own chest and seeing the end of a fractured rib shatter his glass heart.

A shudder runs through his body, prompting Jyushimatsu to tighten his grip just slightly. “Oh, you’re cold! It’s past breakfast, ‘cause you slept for a really long time, but I’ll go get you some tea!! Sound good?”

Given that his appetite hasn’t come back from war, that sounds better than anything else. Though he did manage to choke down that rice and miso last night, he’s not sure if he wants to eat even anything bland. “Yeah, sounds good. Put just a little bit of agave syrup in it for me?”

“Yeah! Anything for Ichimatsu-nii-san! Be right back, okay?”

With Jyushimatsu, ‘be right back’ is typically how it goes. He’s only gone for a few minutes, or at least it only seems like a few minutes.

Regardless, Ichimatsu has a cup of tea in his hand relatively quickly. Almost as if his brother predicted that it would be difficult to hold something very hot with only one hand, the tea is warm, not boiling hot.

It’s easier to balance it with one hand, plus this means it’s pretty much the perfect temperature to drink. As he starts to sip it, he feels Jyushimatsu’s hand, covered entirely by his sleeve, rubbing affectionately between his shoulder blades. “It’s good, huh?”

He swallows and gives the other a nod. “Yeah, pretty good. Thanks.” Thankfully, it should wake him up, too. He’s still feeling kind of groggy.

“Good!! Osomatsu-nii-san said he’s gonna give you your medicine in a minute, since I told him you were up and hurting.” Jyushimatsu shoves his binder of cards away, shifting up to sit on the sofa. “Do you want me to move you up here after you’re done drinking?”

“Probably, yeah. You got anything you wanna do today?” Another sip, and he sighs in relief feeling the warmth flow through him. Damn.He can’t believe he could take something as simple as a cup of tea in the morning for granted. “I can’t really help with baseball practice… but we could watch TV together or something.”

“Sure! We can watch whatever you want!” After only a few seconds, Jyushimatsu wiggles himself back down and leans against his big brother’s shoulder. “Hey, Ichimatsu-nii-san… I’m really glad you’re okay. Even though you’re hurt and everything, you’re home with us instead of… being not home with us!”

The least he can do is let his head rest gently against Jyushimatsu’s. “Yeah… I’m glad I’m home, too. Don’t think I’d rather be anywhere else.”

Jyushimatsu nods eagerly, making a brief, dull wave of pain wash through Ichimatsu. However, he’d rather have that pain than not have his little brother close. “We’ll take really good care of you! Just say if you need anything, okay? I’m really strong and I can get anything! … And if I can’t, Osomatsu-nii-san probably can!”

“Heh.” Ichimatsu takes another gulp of his tea. “You guys are the best.”

-

True to Jyushimatsu’s word, Osomatsu is in pretty soon to give Ichimatsu the painkillers. For whatever reason, even when he can’t be trusted with literally anything else, the eldest is pretty good at monitoring medicine when one of the others needs it.

All things being equal, Ichimatsu has a lot of faith in taking medicine when Osomatsu keeps track of it. He knows how much was dispensed, how many Ichimatsu is supposed to take and how often, how many are left, and all the related things. He’s like some kind of idiot savant who was put on Earth to be a pill counter.

After he takes it, he expects to start getting tired again, so he silently begs Osomatsu to stay on the couch with him. They’re all supposed to be hanging out anyway, based on what Jyushimatsu said, so right now he decides he wants to be close to his oldest brother for a little bit.

Osomatsu seems all too happy to oblige, snuggling Ichimatsu as close as he dares to. It’s probably not a good idea to use normal force, so the touches are… lighter than usual. It’s not so bad.

He settles in on Osomatsu’s shoulder, trying to get his eyes to focus on the show Jyushimatsu turned it to for him. It’s kind of unfortunate that he’s almost certainly going to fall asleep on it. “You guys are taking really good care of me,” he sighs, letting his eyes slip closed. “You want my allowance? Or, like… a bag of sardines?”

Osomatsu snorts. “What? You’re nuts, man. We’re taking care of you because we want to and because you need it. I mean, if I was sitting here with a broken leg, a broken wrist, broken ribs, and had to have my shoulder cherry popped back into place, wouldn’t you all be like, ‘Wow, maybe we should give the poor bastard a hand’? We’re just doing the same thing for you that we’d do for any one of us.”

Ichimatsu huffs. “Yeah, well… you’re all doing a lot. Karamatsu went in the kitchen past midnight to make me miso and rice, Choromatsu probably fucked up his back sleeping against the couch so I wouldn’t be lonely, Jyushi’s waiting on me, and you’ve got my medicine on a damn schedule or something.”

“Yeah, well,” Osomatsu grins, “I can’t leave it up to you, crackhead.”

He can’t help but chuckle at that. Even so, it’s not going to make him totally drop this. “I’m serious. You guys are…”

Osomatsu nudges him carefully. “We’re being brothers, you boner. I know we suck at showing it sometimes, but… you know we all love each other, right? I guess it’s easier to show it when one of us is sick or hurt. Just so happens you’re the hurt one right now. And also your ass is on painkillers, so everything seems weird to you.”

… Okay, so maybe he can’t fault that logic. Still, though.

They’re both quiet for a long moment while they watch the screen, then Osomatsu lets out a soft hum. “You did good, you know. I don’t like that you tried to get yourself killed, but you did good.”

“I wasn’t trying to get myself killed,” Ichimatsu retorts with the nastiest facial expression he can muster right now. “I didn’t wanna get hit, either. But Karamatsu and Totty weren’t paying attention… I didn’t want them to get hit. I was trying to get us all out of that way… I just wasn’t fast enough.”

Osomatsu scoffs before reaching his hand up to ruffle Ichimatsu’s hair. He appears to be getting a lot of pets like that lately, not that he’s complaining. It feels really good and is one of the biggest comforts he has right now. “You protected them, anyway. I can’t say too much, because you didn’t do anything I wouldn’t have done if it were me.”

Ichimatsu offers a low, mocking wail. “Oh, shit. I’m turning into you. I think I’d rather be a cat. If I were a really bratty cat, you’d still be nice enough to feed me sardines and scratch behind my ears, right?”

“Uhhhh, I guess. You’re changing the subject, you dick.” A small puff of laughter makes his bangs move. “I just… wanna say I really respect you, man. Sometimes I remember the days when you would kick Karamatsu in the leg just for breathing the wrong way. And when you used to blow Totty off to hang with your friends in high school.”

He gets a shrug in response. “People change. We’ve all changed a lot.”

“Yeah, sure. I know.” His arm shifts down and he squeezes Ichimatsu’s good hand in that reassuring, proud way only an older sibling can. “They haven’t all been good changes. But seeing you trying to keep the others safe… that’s a a good change. Just gotta give you your props, Ichimacchan.”

He’s too tired to really argue with Osomatsu. Despite the fact that he knows he’s the shittiest of them all, he has to at least silently acknowledge that what he did prevented one of his older brothers and his baby brother from being in the same pain he’s in right now.

Instead of saying anything meaningful, he just presses himself in more against Osomatsu and mutters, “That’s nice. I’m tired.”

Osomatsu snorts and Ichimatsu feels a light kiss on top of his head. “Alright, dumbass, get some sleep. The pills are probably kicking in. Let me know if you need anything.”

Ichimatsu thinks that, right now, all he needs is his big brother to be the perfect pillow, and he’s doing a pretty good job of that.

-

Although it’s not dark at all the next time Ichimatsu wakes up, it’s significantly later than he meant to sleep. 3 P.M., meaning that once again he’s slept through a meal ― lunch, this time.

Just like last night, he finds that he’s not really all that hungry. Even so, it might be a good idea to eat, so probably he ask Osomatsu to get him something small.

When he shifts and looks over, though, Osomatsu isn’t there anymore. Instead, there’s Totty…

… Oh.

He’s holding onto Ichimatsu pretty tight. Ichimatsu isn’t sure he can move too much with the way Totty is holding him.

“Hey,” he says softly. “Totty? Everything okay?”

His little brother stiffens, wide eyes suddenly turning up to look at him. Unlike what he noticed about Karamatsu, Totty doesn’t have any physical injuries, but… the skin around his eyes is red and puffy. “Y… yeah, it’s all good. Sorry, am I hurting you?”

“No… not really hurting.” He doesn’t remember having seen Totty too much after everything happened. He visited Ichimatsu in the hospital, all teary-eyed and not talking, before they were all allowed to take him home. Once he got home, though, he can’t recall Totty being around a lot even though everyone else was.

He assumed Totty was freaked out after everything and avoiding him just because he’s emotional right now. Seems Ichimatsu was right about that.

He maneuvers his good arm to put it around Totty’s shoulders, pulling him in closer. “Have you been crying? You sure you’re okay?”

Totty sniffles and dips his head down. “Yeah, sorry… I just…”

“Don’t be sorry, dumbass.” Even though it hurts a little to move so much, Ichimatsu cuddles his brother in against him. “It’s fine, you big crybaby. I just wanna make sure you’re okay.”

“I should be the one making sure you’re okay.” Regardless, Totty nestles in, tucking his head under Ichimatsu’s chin. It’s a bit of a weight on his hurt ribs, but it’s not that bad. “… H-hey. I, um. You know. I… I love you.”

Huh. It’s been a while since Totty has said that point-blank to any of his brothers, Ichimatsu thinks. It’s kind of nice to hear. He closes his eyes and offers an appreciative hum. “I love you, too. That it?”

Totty lets out a frustrated sigh, and Ichimatsu can just imagine the pout he has on his face. Kinda cute. He can’t really help himself; the youngest is always gonna be the baby, always gonna be adorable, even when he’s acting like a little bitch or if he wants to deny it. “I wanted to… say I’m sorry.”

“For…?”

“For… everything! Y-you know, for almost getting hit and… I mean, you got hurt trying to protect me and Karamatsu! If I hadn’t tried to follow him without even looking… you wouldn’t have had to worry about me. And… and I haven’t been with you too much since you got home…”

He nuzzles his head against Ichimatsu’s collarbone, kneading his hand against the top of his brother’s good leg. “I’m sorry about that. It’s just… I’ve been… really upset. It was scary, seeing the car hit you…”

The hum Ichimatsu gives this time is lower, pensive and understanding. “Yeah. Mom said you were crying a lot when she got to the hospital. ‘S okay to be kinda freaked out, you know.”

“Yeah, I know… and I was… am.I was scared the whole time… Karamatsu tried to wake you up, but you were just lying there and you wouldn’t…” Totty sniffles and his hand curls into a weak fist against Ichimatsu’s knee. “I didn’t wanna lose you, Ichimatsu-nii-san, and I was really afraid you were gone. I’m happy you’re okay… I just… I-I was pretty sure I was gonna cry the first time I tried to take care of you, so I… wanted to be alone with you. Crying in front of all you guys is…”

Ichimatsu nods to quiet his brother, ghosting a kiss over the top of Totty’s head. “I get it. It’s okay, Totty. C’mere, okay… you don’t have to be sorry for being freaked out and not wanting to cry and all that shit. I’m sure Karamatsu’s freaked out, too. And everyone else. Don’t apologize for your feelings, stupid.”

An indignant huff is the response he gets, before Totty presses in against Ichimatsu’s uninjured shoulder. ��It just makes me think a lot,” he finally confesses.

Ichimatsu smirks. “Right. And you’re so out of practice with thinking, it’s hard. I know.”

“Th-that’s not it, you jerk!” Totty whines and brings his arms in, curled against his chest. His knees come up onto the couch, folded under him, as he tries to get comfortable. “It makes me think… anything could happen, at any moment, and that… might be it.And I know we’re all shitty to each other a lot of the time, but… but I love all of you.”

He sniffles, snuggling against Ichimatsu when his big brother pulls him even closer. “The thought that one of us might… die… I-I didn’t… I didn’t know how afraid I was of that… till I thought it happened. If one of us wasn’t here… it… it wouldn’t be the same anymore.”

“… Yeah.” Ichimatsu gives Totty a squeeze that’s maybe a little tighter than necessary. It’s not like he can pretend that Totty is wrong. He’s right. Even though they’re all assholes and treat each other like crap sometimes, the last thing any of them want is for their family to be… incomplete.

They sit quietly for what feels like a long time, holding each other. Breathing. Just existing in sync, in perfect understanding for a while.

Sometimes, it’s true, Ichimatsu is kind of a death seeker. Sometimes he really does want to die. Sometimes he doesn’t care about anything, and just wants it all to end so he doesn’t have to deal with the weight of life anymore.

Sometimes, though… sometimes he fights death with all he has. He thinks maybe that’s what happened after he got hit by the car.

It would have been easy to die then. To just let his injuries swallow him up and put out his life like blowing out a candle.

He’s in a lot of pain right now, but he’s not dead. There must be a reason, right?

He thinks this is the reason.

Holding his youngest brother and realizing how broken his absence would leave his family, thinking about how broken it would be if anyof them were gone, how much they love each other…

… For once, he’s happy to be alive.

[imo-chan-imagines]

『 As your boyfriend | BNHA Headcanons 』

From the good, to the bad, to the downright adorable.

Characters: female!reader, Aizawa Shouta

Tags/warnings: Boku No Hero Academia (anime), 18+, explicit descriptions of sex, smut, fluff, soft dom Aizawa, relationship, headcanons

⚠️ 18+ CONTENT! MINORS: PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT ⚠️

A/N: Right, so I'm simping for this man biG TIME, but I'm only on season 3, so no spoilers or anything, please. This is my first BNHA post (and it turned out way longer than I was intending 😅) Please let me know if you want more in the future!

Also, I have a repetitive strain injury, so typing stuff is taking a while at the moment. Sorry about that. Thanks for reading! Please enjoy ♡ ~Imo

☆ Aizawa Shouta ☆

I'm not going to lie. Shouta can be a big ol' grouchy pants sometimes, and it's basically impossible to win an argument against him makes you want to tear your hair out, sometimes

But most of the time, he's just tired and in pain, and he doesn't mean to be so crotchety

He's not the type to make excuses, though. That's childish. He means his apologies, even if they're simple

He'll normally initiate an apology by gently wrapping his arms around you from behind and resting his forehead on your shoulder 🥺

Physical contact is incredibly personal and intimate for him. He doesn't just touch anyone, or allow them to touch him

You're special 💞💫

Soft, gentle touches, like his fingers interlacing with yours, or his leg brushing up against you, are basically his way of saying 'I love you'

Catch me crying in the corner, a'ight? 😔

He rarely ever raises his voice. Like, ever he doesn't need to, and is aware that it can be scary

He's definitely the kind of guy to forget to tell people that you're dating, simply because he doesn't see how it's relevant or anyone else's business 🤦‍♀️

I mean, he ain't wrong, but–

And his mood switches between 'antisocial' and 'clingy' like a mechanical metronome did someone say 'cat'?

Sometimes, you'll be lucky if he speaks more than three words to you together in a whole day nothing personal 🤷‍♀️

But on other days, he literally won't let you out of his arms for the world he's complicated, okay?

You have missed many a parcel delivery because he wouldn't let you get up from his lap to answer the door 🙄😂

Boundaries and responsibilities are key and highly respected by Shouta, and he would NEVER erase your quirk without your permission, unless he literally had no other choice like someone's going to get hurt, or something

Is generally quite serious so what's new? but you're one of the few people he can relax around when he feels like it

9/10 of his jokes are dad jokes 😎 hell yeah

Takes a hard stance in financial debates, but is constantly broke af 😶 says he'll buy you dinner and presents you with some instant noodles with a 'Reduced To Clear' sticker on them

Will take a bite of your food/steal some off your plate without asking, and literally say nothing to defend himself #gremlin

Is incredibly shy and uncomfortable about being ~le horny~ until you've been together for literally forever

Even then, he's still shy about it when he has to bring it up and it's pretty cute, let me tell ya

It took him forever to admit to you that he gets turned on when you eat ice lollies

Guess what you do whenever you want to mess with him like a little brat 😛

But if he's in the mood, he will 100% whisper something dirty in your ear, even if you're completely alone and probably well past third base

He does it because he knows your pussy will clamp around him at the sound of his voice 😳🥵

*fans self profusely*

Genuine, unadulterated smiles are rare with Aizawa, but when he does 🙌 Heaven hath opened its gates and allowed an angel walk amongst mere mortals 🥺🤧

If he lays his head on your chest, he will fall asleep like that *snaps fingers*

Surprise nose and forehead kisses to show he loves you ❤

Calls you 'Kitten' this is basically already canon at this point

And he's all about those deep talks with you at 3 am when he can't sleep

Speaking of insomnia!

It's cheesy, but you're like a soothing balm. The warmth of your body makes him feel safe, your touch helps him relax, and your voice soothes him to sleep

He's never slept as well as when you're beside him 😭🤧

When cuddling, he likes to be the big spoon but will accept being the little spoon if you if you press your boobs against his back and ask really nicely 🤭

And he loves you stroking his hair and running your fingers through it 🥺

Netlix nights and pillow/blanket forts!!

Rainy days are a godsend. Staying inside all day under the blankets, with the soft sound of the rain falling outside and no-one to interrupt you – literal paradise

He makes mean hot cocoas and Irish coffees 😋 I feel like this man lives off Irish coffees 😂🤣

Wears a lot of black and grey sweatpants at home 😗 which highlight the outline of his dick just right, if ya know what I'm sayin' 👀

Doesn't like going out for dates and prefers staying inside and doing stuff together same, honeyy

But if you really like going out, he will somewhat begrudgingly agree to it and get all dressed up for you, just so long as he gets his fair share of home-dates, too 🤗

But if you also don't like going out... the two of you will basically never leave the house, except to get groceries in your pyjamas from the 24-hour convenience store down the road at one in the morning oddly specific, I know, but you get me

And sorry, but I don't make the rules

Well, actually, I do. But shush

We all know that Shouta cleans up *chef's kiss* So when you go somewhere ~fancy~ he always looks so damn fine 😩

But he has very little idea that he's hot he sees himself as a tired, walking dumpster fire🚶‍♂️🔥

Shouta will 100% turn into a crazy cat dude with 15+ cats if you don't stop him I never said you should, though 🙃

And is a 'minimalist texter' – basically, if he can't answer a text with 'yes', 'no,' 'maybe', or 'OK', then he probably won't answer it at all 😭😂

Especially if you try and sext him or send him your nudes while he's at work. He'll probably lecture you when he gets home and depending on just how much you turned him on, he might proceed to teach you a lesson...

But wear his shirt, and just his shirt or his hoodie and he's yours

Heart eyes, motherfucker 😍

And, depending on how you two are feeling that day, you may or may not end up getting dicked down on the nearest semi-flat surface right then and there 👀

But don't misunderstand. This is an incredibly tired man you have here, and his libido actually isn't through the roof sorry, ladies so this kind of thing isn't an everyday occurrence

But when he dicks you down, he dicks you down goooood

Shouta's not big on PDA, but makes up for it in private. We're talking hands and kisses all over your body he leaves nothing unloved 😏

And while he's not big on PDA, he is big on sneaky displays of affection or 'SDA', as I like to call it

Like subtly grabbing your butt for a second, or his hand on your thigh under the table at a dinner etc. especially around other people

But what really gets him going is slowly removing your clothes and taking you fully naked, spreading your legs wide and holding them open he likes the view 😍

He lowkey highkey worships your body 🙏 and will literally not shut up about how fucking pretty you are, and how fucking good it feels inside you his words, not mine 😳

Groans and growls a little when he's getting close/cumming especially when he's being a little rough and likes to cum together, but knows it's not always practical

He tends to be a gentle dom, but can get just a teensy bit 🤏 rough if he's too into it – but nothing outrageous

We're talking rough thrusts and a brutal pace, maybe holding onto you a little too hard and, waaahh, he gets so embarrassed if he leaves bruises

Is also into a little bondage, but again, only light stuff – restraining your wrists with his hands or his tie or his Capturing Weapon 👀 maybe blinding-folding you if you're okay with it

If you're not blindfolded, then I'm afraid he's all about that eye contact

Eating out your pussy? Eye contact. Pounding you into the mattress? Blazing eye contact. Rearranging your guts in front of the mirror? Fucking eye contact

And CONSENT, BABY. THAT'S WHAT HE'S FUCKING INTO 😌🙌💞

But all jokes aside – he's too used to taking without consent with his quirk, that he's kind of paranoid about it comes to sex but it's adorable and sweet, and honestly, still kind of hot

And speaking of eating pussy – goddamn does he like to please you. Like cream to a kitty 😛

Oh, and he just loves it when you suck on his fingers as he's pounding into you 🤤

And he likes to leave love bites in personal, inconspicuous places and sometimes on your neck

He's marking his woman 😌

When he gets suuuper horny, he likes to fuck you from behind, standing upright in front of the mirror. It's a specific kink he has of watching himself stretch you out as the length of his cock disappears inside you...

I can get behind that, lemme tell yaaa

I said he tends to be dominant, but female doms – fear not!

Shouta is quite flexible when it comes down to it and is kind of lazy, lmfao so he definitely has time for laying back, having the control taken away, and having his dick ridden

For him, it's really all about communication and what you're both comfortable with

I will say this, though: sometimes, his cat watches you while you're banging 😅😂

The first time it happened, you freaked out and refused to continue because – how could you??? But eventually, you just kind of got used to it 🤷‍♀️

The same way you've got used to it following you to the bathroom every time you go to take a shit 😭

So now, you just kind of laugh about it, which helps keep things a little lighter 🤗

After sex, he does like to snuggle, but you'll be lucky if he stays awake for more than 30 seconds it's one of the few times he actually can sleep well

If you're ever out and about, or even inside, and cold, he'll wrap you up in his clothes/scarf/blanket like a sushi roll like Eren wrapping up Mikasa in his scarf, all deadpan and everything 😐

It's not that often, but when he gets drunk, he gets all soft and emotional, and starts babbling about how he can't believe he got so lucky to be dating you, and that he's sure he hasn't done anything to deserve it mah heart

He's pretty sure he wants kids, but he doesn't feel like now is the right time, and is lowkey afraid that it's never going to feel like the right time

He also constantly doubts himself, wondering if he'd actually able to look after them and protect them the way a father should class 1-A got him second-guessing himself 🥺

Besides, it's not all about him. You clearly have a say in it too, and he doesn't want to force you into anything

Again: communication and comfort zones

Dating Aizawa definitely has its ups and downs, and it's not smooth sailing, but he's prepared to work for a life with you because he's found a connection with you that he hasn't feel with anyone else

He knows that you're both far from perfect, but hopes that, for once, you might just make something good, and make it last 🥰😇

© imo-chan-imagines 2020

[tossawary]

omg the concept of (canon-esque? i.e. in a complete depressive state) sqh agreeing to come out of hiding to attend sqq/lbh's wedding, knowing 1000% that mbj WILL be there and WILL immediately discover sqh faked his own death, just because sqq asked him to? oof. but for a man so dedicated to avoiding his own untimely demise... how does he play it? does he pretend he has amnesia? does he go in disguise?

Okay, so the setup I was picturing for this (the Real Angsty Version) is that SQH finds out that SQQ is another transmigrator just before he fakes his death. SQQ also finds out that SQH is a transmigrator, but then SQH dies! What the hell! Leaving Shen Qingqiu to be like, “I have NO idea who that other transmigrator was or what they might have changed. Also, I’m not coping well with coming face to face with my fate: getting killed off horribly in service to the plot!” 

Only, SQH secretly gets in contact with SQQ and arranges a secret meeting, in which they discover each other’s past identities (or past usernames, at least). Shen Qingqiu is pissed off that Shang Qinghua is the author of this shitty story and confronts SQH as though this mess is his responsibility to fix. 

But Shang Qinghua laughs in Shen Qingqiu’s face (in the fashion of the asshole we know SQH can be). Like, firstly, if Shen Qingqiu claims that Shang Qinghua is alive and was in service to demons, he’s probably going to look like he’s having the next step in his ongoing breakdown. There’s no proof! Good luck convincing all those overly concerned Peak Lords of your sanity, bro! 

Secondly, Shang Qinghua already wasted his last life on this stupid fucking story he never wanted to write, so he’s not wasting his new one on this stupid fucking story either. Fuck the story! Fuck the original outline too! He’s been held hostage by the System for decades and now that he’s fulfilled his only major plot requirement, he’s done with this shit! Done with Proud Immortal Demon Way! He wants to LIVE. And he wants to live for himself for once in his fucking life! 

So, like, there’s serious conflict between SQH and SQQ. Years of living false lives boil to the surface. But, when it comes down to it, neither of them have anyone else who understands what it’s like. They’re not friends, but SQH feels bad for SQQ, especially after SQQ finally has a real breakdown over feeling like an immature young adult pretending to be someone he’s not, forced to hurt an innocent person he’s genuinely come to care about. SQH is much older than SQQ and he’s like, “Ahhh, fine, I kind of had some plan for my retirement, but I guess I can be this guy’s transmigration mentor for a bit.” 

So they do the whole Sun and Moon Dew Flower Seed thing again, only it works out better because a retired SQH doesn’t have anything better to do than garden all day. They bitch and vent at each other over random bullshit. And eventually SQH gets sick of SQQ worrying over Luo Binghe’s return. 

SQH is like, “Bro, sure, you’re probably going to die. But you have a backup body and a new life waiting for you. Your role is the story is going to end soon. You’ve already changed shit. Say whatever the fuck you want to say to him and then peace out of the plot without a heart weighed down by guilt. Unlike the shit I wrote, you don’t have to draw this mess out into as many extra chapters as possible, so just cut through the bullshit and tell him you fucked up. Mentor characters always die just before or just after big reveals anyway.” 

(Since the SVSSS System is apparently there to make something close to Airplane’s original outline happen, you could go a non-canonical direction and have it remove all secrecy restrictions once Shang Qinghua says he no longer gives a shit about the story or the plot, if you wanted to do a full Identity Reveal. Then SQH and SQQ could have a very funny moment in which they realize SQH had greater control over the System than he realized.) 

So, yeah, Luo Binghe returns, Shen Qingqiu says everything he feels he needs to say right away, and things hit a fix-it AU path from there. If Tianlang-Jun and Zhuzhi-Lang are up to their usual mischief, then Shang Qinghua probably comes back to help deal with that. Everything is resolved! 

And then Moshang angst! SOOOOO much Moshang angst! 

In the Romcom Wedding from Hell Crack AU version of this fic, I was kind of picturing that Shang Qinghua never reveals himself to be alive during the conflict, but Shen Qingqiu really wants him at his scary demon wedding for support! So Shen Qingqiu is trying to persuade SQH to come out of hiding and be his best man, when Mobei-Jun somehow stumbles onto the conversation, probably in the company of Luo Binghe. 

And Shen Qingqiu is immediately like, “Mobei-Jun, you will not murder my friend.” And Luo Binghe is like, “What Shizun says goes.” 

And so I was picturing, in this Romcom-esque Crack AU version of this fic, Shang Qinghua trying (and failing) to politely explain to an incensed Mobei-Jun that he faked his death because he was afraid of being killed for no reason someday. Which turns into Mobei-Jun being shocked and confused and angry, because that is not what was happening! Which turns into Shang Qinghua just outright yelling at him that it WAS what was happening and berating him for all his carelessly cruelty over the years. Big blow-out fight. 

While Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe stand in the corner as chaperones (to prevent any murder from taking place), shamelessly watching this utter disaster unfold with incredulous fascination. Like, “Wow! That could have been us! We’re so glad that we managed to communicate with each other like adults and avoid this kind of pointless bullshit that could have been resolved at any time with one direct conversation. Good thing we’re better than that.” 

SQH then gets involved in the wedding because the cat’s out of the bag anyway, now that MBJ knows. It’s a very big wedding with lots of organization to be done (Luo Binghe is a total Groomzilla and Shen Qingqiu gets Extremely Stressed about everything being perfect because LBH deserves it and also he will not humiliate himself in front of all the VIPs of the Demon Realm), so Moshang keep running into each other and eventually manage to work it out. 

[littlemisslipbalm]

“I am not going to join your band” Part 3

AKA “I’ll only join your band if you promise not to kick me out if things don’t work out”

Me trying to make this have a happy ending: *jumping through hoops of my own design*

I wrote this ^^ before I wrote part 3 and boy was I right, it was complicated and I hope I did it justice, LMK what y’all think, I love you all asking for part 3 and giving me feedback. All the support means to much

Also peep the gif WITH Mitch I’m crying, they’re both smiling at y/n in the soundboard room

Word Count: 5.0k? | Warnings: angsty ASF, some crying, some yelling, more making out, even some mentions of smut (oh yeah we’re getting there - no actual sex though), swearing

I tried to make it FLUFF but there had to be drama :/ (I don’t like conflict but that’s like lowkey how stories work sadly)

Part 1 | Part 2

-

When Mitch pulled away from the hug, you felt yourself at a crossroads. You knew Mitch was right. While kissing Harry had been nice, you needed to think about why you were doing it and what it would mean for you and Harry.

You knew you were always going to love Mitch and you were working on separating the romantic feelings you had for him and the best friend feelings you had for him. But you weren’t sure if getting involved with Harry would help that process or just confuse it. That’s why you had to talk with Harry about this, where he stood exactly, and there wasn’t time, lunch was over.

Mitch stalked off ahead of you with a final: “Just...be careful.”

Moments after he disappeared through the recording door, Harry walked up behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You were still standing in the middle of the hallway, your brain racing at everything Mitch had said and every moment you had spent with Harry in the past couple of weeks. You hadn’t really thought of Harry as being anything more than a friend. But there you two were, kissing in a storage closet five minutes ago.  

“We need to talk,” you both said simultaneously. But, just as you were about to speak again, a technician rushed up beside you two and started to talk rapidly to Harry, needing assistance on something that sounded important. You raised your brows when he looked at you, his silent question of whether he could leave, “Go, it can wait.”

In that moment, you felt your unimportance in that studio - no Harry or Mitch to turn to.

This had started as a tag along to spend time with your best friend, in hopes to not get left behind, then it had turned to a light torture of watching said best friend falling for a girl who wasn’t yourself, but somewhere amidst all of that was Harry, always giving you a reason to come back. If not for him, you probably would have stopped tagging along after the first day.

He was the one to tell you to come back a second day. He was the one retuning the piano so you had something to do. He was the one liking your tune and turning into a song for his album. He was the one asking you to join the band. But was he the one for you? And if he wasn’t, and you told him that, was that the end of your time at the studio?

God, you just wished you were able to know what he was thinking. What was the reason behind his kiss? Was it something meaningless or meaningful to him. Because you had realized you had wanted to join the band, not for Mitch, not for Harry, but for yourself and you didn’t want whatever had just happened between you and Harry to come between your chance.

You sat in one of the lounge rooms for the rest of the day, you didn’t feel like watching the band record or having Mitch next to you whispering side comments while you sat in boring technical meetings. You wanted to be alone. And alone you were, no one came to look for you until the end of the day. You sat on the floor of the room, legs crossed, your body still, but your mind alive with all of your thoughts.  

At around 8:30, it was Mitch who walked through the door and sighed at the sight of you. You had texted him where you were when he had asked a couple minutes ago. “Ready to go? Sarah’s coming with us, if you don’t mind,” he gruffly said, obviously not past your earlier conversation. It had left a bad taste in your mouth, the whole situation, not being in a comfortable place with your best friend wasn’t ideal.

“I didn’t like how you spoke to me earlier.” you started and then sighed, “And I didn’t like how we left things..” You stayed in your spot, sat in the middle of the room, face turned to stare at Mitch in the doorway.

“I admit, my tone wasn’t my favorite. I was flustered,” Mitch said finally, walking into the room, door swinging shut behind him.

“You could apologize,” you simply stated, not satisfied. You loved Mitch, but you weren’t a push over. “You basically said I was a prostitute, Mitch, with that harem remark.”

“I truly, didn’t mean it like that,” he sighed and ran a hand through his shoulder length hair. He decided to take a seat, mirroring your position. He moved like a cat, long limbs slowly folding in on themselves, making him appear much smaller than he was. “I’m sorry that’s what you thought, it just,” he paused, “was weird seeing you like that. You’re like my little sister -,” he stopped talking at the look on your face.

You blinked and looked away. Do not cry right now, c’mon. You knew that’s how he felt about you, it just always hurt to hear him say it. You brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah, I get it, you’re forgiven, anyway.” You regretted even asking for an apology now.

Mitch wouldn’t let it go, he knew that the two of you had to have this conversation for once, rather than sidestepping it every time.

“I know you’re in love with me, Y/N, and I’m sorry that I don’t feel the same way about you. I know we never talk about it, but we’re both possibly at the beginning of new serious relationships right now and I think we need to talk about this.”

It’s happening. He was right, you never talked about it, and you knew he was right about needing to talk about it, too. He was always the mature one.

“And what if I’m not?” you replied stubbornly, as much as you knew he was right, you couldn’t stop the words from leaving your mouth.

“What?” Mitch was clearly confused.

“What if I’m not on the verge of a new relationship and that kiss was just a one time thing with Harry. Then I’m left here alone and embarrassed while you ride off into the sunset with Sarah and your new life. Have you ever thought about how this all might be affecting me, put my romantic love for you aside, have you ever thought about how leaving your best friend behind might affect her, Mitch! I’ve thought about it and it sucks! It sucks because you’re the only person I’ve got, the only person who’s ever given a damn about me and always been there. Soon you won’t be. My tombstone won’t even read “Happy” just “Uneventful” and “Boring.”

You practically were screaming and you had no idea when all these feelings had bubbled you the surface, but tears were running down your face now. You had never been good with confrontation.  

“And I’ve been working on it.”

Mitch still sat in a stunned silence. Not used to you losing your cool with him.

“I’ve been working on getting over being in love with you, but a lifetime of being in love with you doesn’t just go away, not because you find a girl, not because I kiss a boy, but because I work on separating feelings and ideas in my mind. I had let the line be blurred between best friend and boyfriend, when you weren’t actually my boyfriend.” You paused, “I thought you were my soulmate since I was fourteen and you never even noticed how I looked at you.” You had started fierce, but you ended softly, almost whimpering out the last words.

“I knew,” he sighed, “I knew when you made sure to come to all my shows in high school. You never missed a single one.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me to stop? Why didn’t you set up boundaries?” You pleaded with Mitch, searching for an answer from him to make sense of everything.

“Because I was young and no one had ever done that for me, no one cared about me like you did before and it felt so good to not be ignored or overlooked. To be someone’s whole world, it felt nice.”

“But...look what happened.”

“It got out of hand, but I thought you’d find a guy when you went off to college and forget about loving me like that.”

“But that’s not what happened,” you both sat silent for a few moments, “I can’t lose you, Mitch, and I’m okay just being the best friend.”

“I can’t lose you either, Y/N. I’m so sorry I never addressed it sooner, it wasn’t fair of me to keep you on the line all these years. And I’m not going to leave you behind, I’m sorry if I have been neglecting our friendship with the album and Sarah.”

Mitch reached out and took your hand, rubbing it softly with his thumb. You noticed no butterflies when he did this and you squeezed his hand gently back.

“So, best friend, as much as I would love to ride home with you and your girl, I think there’s someone else I really need to talk to.”

You were always quick to move past fights with Mitch, they were never like this, of course, but you had said your piece and so had Mitch, seeing as he reverted back to his natural silent state. This definitely was a big step in the right direction for you to finally move past your romantic feelings for Mitch. Some closure.

Mitch nodded and you both stood up. “We should hang out soon, just the two of us, do something… friendly,” Mitch said softly. You smiled and nodded.

You knew this had been a wake up call for him, too. You hadn’t really hung out outside of the studio since he’d started seeing Sarah more exclusively, meaning weekly movie nights, ‘what’s in the fridge’ dinner nights, and new music mondays had all fallen by the wayside. You knew that he’d start being there for you more after this whole conversation, because that’s who Mitch was, he listened and he followed through.

You gave him a quick hug, happier with the outcome of this conversation than the last, even if this one had involved you shouting a little bit. Then, you split off from him in search of Harry.

He was in the recording area of the studio, sitting, staring off into space with his guitar resting in his lap.

“Hi,” you said carefully. He twitched his head at the sound and looked over to see you. “Have you been crying?” He asked immediately, standing up and setting the guitar on its stand. He crossed to you, quick to your side.

You shook your head, “No, well yes, but they were angry tears, more than sad.”

“Are you alright?” Harry still was concerned, angry wasn’t much better than sad.

“Just had it out with Mitch, it’s better now.”

“About earlier?” Harry led you to sit on the piano bench with him.

“No, about him, and me, it’s been a long time coming, but we’ve got it all out in the open now. He’s going to try to be a better friend, I think. And I’m going to try to be just his best friend.”

“Yeah?” Harry urged you to say more.

“But it did start about earlier, at least,” you ran a hand through your hair, “about what he had said to me earlier, after he had walked in on us.”

“What had he said?” Harry continued to inquire, trying to understand what he had missed.

“He was warning me not to be with you for the wrong reasons and to be wary of your intentions, I guess. He cares about us both, doesn’t want either of us to get hurt and I think it was also weird for him to see us in such a compromising position.”

“Why do you think he wanted you to be wary of my intentions?” Harry tilted his head, this comment not really making sense to him.

“Well, what are your intentions?” You didn’t want to mention the ‘harem’ comment, you knew Mitch had said it in the heat of the moment and it would only upset Harry.

“I like you, isn’t it obvious?” Harry said staring directly into your eyes.

“Um..” His blunt statement caught you off guard.

Harry ducked his head and puffed a laugh out of his mouth, almost in disbelief, “No, I guess it’s not.”

You sat there, silent, still no idea how to respond. Harry scratched his head and smiled at you, “You’re gorgeous and fantastic at everything you do. You’re witty and kind, fiercely loyal and never fail to bring a smile to my face, even when you’re crying or I’m crying. Why wouldn’t I be attracted to you?”

Still you remained silent. “C’mon, Y/N. Say something, please. I just laid it all out for you.”

You nodded and tried to streamline your thoughts. Today had been a lot, overwhelming to say the least. “I’ve never had someone feel this way about me, it’s a lot to take in. And...I like you too, Harry, but-”

“Don’t say ‘but’” he pleaded.

“But,” you sighed, “I don’t want you to go through the same thing I did, being strung along by someone who can’t give you what you need. I don’t know how to love someone who isn’t Mitch, I want to, I really, really do, but it’s going to take time, and I like you enough to not want to hurt you.”

“Then let me teach you,” Harry said quickly, taking your hands in his, “Let me be the one to teach you to love someone who isn’t Mitch. That someone is me, by the way.”

You laughed at his final remark, still feeling overwhelmed and unsure.

“And I’m okay with going slow,” he shrugged his shoulders, “we don’t even have to label this. But when I’m with you, here, everyday, I feel at home and when you’re gone, I miss you. You’re constantly on my mind and I’m always looking for your approval. What would hurt me the most is if you don’t give us a chance. Give me a chance to prove to you that you can love someone else and they can love you back, properly.”

His eyes were begging you to say ‘yes’. His hands were clasped tightly around yours, tugging you closer to him.

After everything he said, you wanted to say yes. But, you were scared. You were scared because trying something new, taking a step into the unknown, it was scary sometimes.

But then, you thought back to when Harry had sat with you as you cried over Mitch and how he’d helped you through that moment of weakness. How you had known that night that you could trust him to be there for you. With Harry by your side, maybe you wouldn’t have to be so scared of the unknown, because you wouldn’t be alone anymore.

“Only if you promise not to kick me out of the band if things don’t work out.” You smiled at Harry’s slight confusion. Then his confusion turned into a huge grin, almost every one of his teeth on display for you.

“I’m sorry, I can’t promise you that…” he said mischievously, making it your turn for a look of confusion, “But I’ll raise you one. I promise that things will work out and you’ll stay in the band.”

You rescinded a hand from his grasp and swatted his bicep. “Has anyone ever told you, you’re very cheeky?”

“Almost all the time! And look at that, you’re already speakin’ my language,” he smiled sweetly at you and winked.

“Oh, shut up!” You laughed and went to swat him again, but instead he caught your wrist and brought it down to your side.

“Fine,” he said matter of factly and leaned into your lips, kissing you for a second time today.

He was an amazing kisser, better than anyone you’d ever kissed before, at least, which really wasn’t saying a lot, but you could tell he was experienced. You didn’t think you’d ever get over his warmth either. It was all consuming.

This time it was you who’s tongue asked for entrance to the other’s mouth. Harry gladly obliged as he pulled you closer to him on the bench.

You liked how quickly you and Harry could go from a serious topic to having fun, you’d said what needed to be said and now you were enjoying each other.

It was breathless between you and Harry. His hands ghosting over every part of your body and yours glued to his deliciously soft curls. Harry’s lips began to travel away from yours and a whine came from the back of your throat. Harry ‘tsk’ed against your jaw, but continued to leave open mouth kisses down the side of your neck.

“Oh” was all you said as he began to suck persistently at the base of your neck, right on top of your collarbone. It felt nice, really fucking nice and you felt a hand fall down onto the top of your thigh and squeeze it. This shot electricity through your entire body. The jolt didn’t stop Harry from continuing to suck along your neck, you just felt him pause for a moment, a smirk ghosting against your neck, nipping on the spot below his lips.

After what felt like hours, Harry kissed back up to your lips and then pulled away.

You were attempting to catch your breath when you said, “Is that what you call taking it slow?”

“I wasn’t hearing any complaints?” He responded as his smirk responded, shrugging his shoulders once again.

“No, no complaints,” you moved one of your legs so that both were on one side of the piano stool and scooted into Harry’s chest. He wrapped his arms around you as you snuggled your head into his chest. It had been a long day for both of you, as you thought back to lunch with Harry crying in the storage closet. He kissed the top of your hair and rested his chin on top of your head, beginning to stroke your arm lazily with his fingertips.

You sat in silence, breathing in each other’s presence. You also couldn’t believe how nice he smelled, even after a whole day of work. This man was magic, you thought.

Harry began to laugh softly and you shifted your head to look at him. “You know, I was planning on telling you today, before this all happened.” He continued after taking a finger and running it against the slope of your nose and tapping the tip, “It’s why I had been in such a good mood, had finished the lyrics, and was going to play it for you, but then I got all in my head. And then we were in the storage room and you were being so good to me and then we were kissing and then Mitch walked in and then you ran off and-.”

You cut off his ramble, “I think I got the rest, I was there, babe.” Heat quickly ran to your cheeks at your use of a pet name. Harry noticed it too and echoed it, “Babe? You just called me ‘babe’?”

“No, definitely not,” you tried unconvincingly.

“Oh, I like that,” he continued to tease you, echoing ‘babe’ once more, your face growing redder every second.

“Wait, you were going to play me what?” You suddenly circled back to the first part of Harry’s little rant. He took his hand away from your arm and used it to brush back a strand of hair that had gotten out of place on your head, “Sweet Creature, I was planning on serenading you and then telling you how I felt.”

“You’re fucking with me, that song isn’t about me,” you scoffed and turned your head away, feeling shy at Harry’s intense stare. He was so passionate and it came through in his big, bright eyes. They could be intimidating at times.

“Honest,” he said, “It was your tune after all, can’t believe you’d think I’d write about someone else with your own music.”

“I don’t know, I thought I was just helping you with a song,” you said sheepishly.

“I was looking at you the first time I said the words ‘sweet creature’” Harry persisted, still in disbelief that you hadn’t caught on to his crush on you until he had spelled it out, but then it dawned on him, you had never had someone pine after you.

In that moment he knew that he wanted to show you all the wonderful things that came with being liked by someone, and being intimate with someone who wanted you back. He didn’t care if you were getting over someone else, because he was going to be there to show you how you deserved to be treated and in turn he knew you’d eventually see him as more than a cute, nice guy friend who knew how to kiss.

You sat there as if you were seeing Harry with new eyes. His expression was earnest and he looked down at you brightly. You bit your lip to slow down the smile about to erupt on your face. You hadn’t felt this excited in a long time.

It felt good to be in a man’s arms who looked at you with such great care, almost as if you were the reason his world turned and he didn’t want that to stop, even if you knew it wasn’t true, his eyes insisted it was. It felt good to be in the embrace of a man who wrote you a song and made you smile and laugh. It felt good to be with a man who took your breath away and also got his taken away from you.

You reached up to Harry’s prominent cheekbone and danced your fingertips along his face. He had grown silent at your touch. Your fingers moved up to smooth one of his large brows and stopped at his brow bone. Harry closed his eyes when you touched his brow bone, your touch so close to his eyes. You rested there for a moment and then moved back down his face, traveling over his slightly gaunt cheeks again.

His eyes fluttered open and the sounds of your breathing filled the air, his soft panting slightly louder than your controlled quiet breaths. It seemed your soft caress was having an effect on him.

Harry loved intimate touch. It was taking all of his self-control to keep from nuzzling into your delicate hand on his face, wanting you to explore without his interference.

You continued to slide your hand down his face, over some light scruff, to the curve of his cupid’s bow. Harry parted his lips at this touch, unable to keep his lungs from hitching. You bit your lip again, noting your effect on him. You traced your thumb around the outline of Harry’s mouth, from his cupid’s bow, to one side, and then onto his plush lower lip.

You kept your thumb there, but pulled down slightly, Harry’s mouth opening further. He restrained the whimper in the back of his throat. You weren’t trying to get any reaction out of him, you were simply using your hands to look at his face, tracing him into your sensory memory.

When you pushed your thumb back up, putting his lip back into place, you felt his tongue peak out and touch you. You looked into his green eyes and he only looked back at you. You were in control. You pushed your thumb a millimeter further and Harry took it softly into his mouth, his tongue touching it sweetly and then he closed his mouth, creating a kiss on your thumb. You then removed your thumb from against his puckered lips and placed your exploring hand onto his thigh, giving you leverage to put yourself at eye level with Harry.

“You are so beautiful,” you said slowly, breathing out a breath you didn’t think you had been holding. His face lit up at your remark and he leaned forward to give you one more sweet kiss, “And so are you. Let’s get you home.”

-

The next few weeks felt like a whirlwind. You were constantly doing something. When you weren’t busy working on the album at the studio, Harry was sneaking you off to secluded places in the building to pepper you with kisses or whispering sweet nothings in your ear in between takes. He drove you home every night, walking you to your door and kissing you hard before you went inside, sometimes he’d come in with you and stay the night, cuddling and falling asleep in each other’s arms. Harry also took you out when he could, showing you little holes in the wall you’d never heard of and surprising you with presents that you always told him were too nice. Everything was coming so natural between you two and Harry treated you so well, it made being with him extremely fun and easy.

Mitch and you were doing best friend things again, too, movie nights and music recommendations, calling each other about random shit you’d seen on the news and couldn’t believe. You weren’t pining after him anymore. You loved him still, but you now knew what reciprocated romantic feelings looked like with Harry and you didn’t need or want that from Mitch anymore. Mitch had talked to Harry after you had explained what happened that night and he had given the big brother spiel to Harry, but was convinced when he heard the way Harry talked about you. He hadn’t realized how Harry had felt before then either. Harry joked that the two of you clearly had never seen a romcom before, because you were both “thick” when it came to flirting.

Today was no different from the rest, Harry had his arm slung around your shoulder as you were pressed into his side on the soundboard room’s couch, your arm reaching up to play with his fingertips. His mouth was against your ear, whispering, almost inaudibly, about how good you looked today and how he wanted to kiss you so badly and you were giggling at his borderline dirty words.

Nobody took any real notice, especially because this had been happening for weeks now. Whenever Mitch saw you two like this, he smiled with closed lips, but he seemed genuinely happy. He was happy that everything was working out in the best way possible.

Lunchtime was always fun because now it was time for you and Harry to sneak off to the first place you had kissed. Except it wasn’t so sneaky, literally everyone knew where you were going and what you were going to do. The minute you were inside the room, Harry would press you against the door, slamming it shut. His lips were on yours in an instant.

Today, he grabbed behind your knee and hiked it up around his hips, pressing himself closer to you. You both groaned at the way your bodies fit together. “Mmph, Fuck, Babe,” Harry groaned before moving to kiss your neck. You only whined in response, fisting a part of his shirt in one hand and some strands of his hair in the other.

You had worn a tank top today, so Harry was able to kiss all across your collarbone, he pulled down one side of the tank and your bra strap, exposing more naked skin. “Can you feel what you do to me?” Harry asks, lips ghosting over your skin, hands gripping your hips closer to his body. You can feel him pressing into you beneath his trousers.

“Can I?” you ask, he pulls away from his work on your neck and looks into your eyes. “Y/N, you don’t have to…” his tone quickly softened. The two of you had only done heavy makeout sessions and some topless groping, but nothing below the belt, yet. “But, I want to take care of you,” you stated simply, meeting his gaze with lust blown out eyes.

He sighed, “Oh, darling.” He reached up to brush your hair into place, it was always getting so messy when you made out.

“My body wants nothing more than for you to take care of me, but one, if you blow me right now, I don’t know how I will get through the rest of the day without loving up on you every second,” you laughed at his words and rolled your eyes.

“And two, when it’s our first time, I want it to be our first time doing everything together, don’t want me to get a head start.”

You wanted to be serious about him being so sweet about your first time together, but you couldn’t ignore the sexual pun he’d just made. You burst out into unrestrained laughter and Harry looked at you, concerned. His eyebrows were knit together as he watched you laughing your head off.

“What?”

“Oh my god, Harry, did you hear yourself?”

“Thought I was being sweet,” he puffed indignantly.

“Head,” you said in between laughs, “Start.”

It clicked in his mind and he rolled his eyes at your immaturity. “You catch that, it’s not even funny, but you don’t catch my flirting for weeks...makes you wonder...” he trails off.

“You’re so mean to me! Guess you don’t want anymore kisses,” you stick your tongue out at him and he smiles.

The more time you spent together, the more your silly side kept coming out with him. Harry loved it, he loved that you could be intellectual and passionate, but also pick out some unintentional innuendo pun at the end of his heartfelt sentiment about your sex life together.

You readjusted yourselves to leave and as you exited Harry said, “What am I going to do with you?”

You held one of his hands and twirled in the hallway, smiling back at him as he walked behind you. You were like a dream, his dream. He hadn’t realized how much he’d needed someone until you’d come into his life, being there for him, being the lovely person he’d come to know. You were wonderful and you were his. And he, in turn, was yours.

-

Hope you enjoyed part 3!

@imagine-that-1975

[thewritewolf]

Cat Crossing Chapter 2

As bad as it was to accidentally reveal his identity to one of his friends, Adrien was sure he could smooth things over somehow. After all, who could possibly be smoother than him?

I posted this on Ao3 a few days ago, but completely forgot to post it here too! I wrote Cat Crossing last year for @sweetsweetsweetie‘s birthday and decided to give the much-demanded second chapter as this year’s present.

You can find the first chapter here for some Animal Crossing, Marichat goodness. Read on to see Marinette being a super flirt, and Adrien being completely unable to handle it.

Enjoy!

-----

Adrien had a fitful night’s sleep after he panic-disconnected from Animal Crossing. He wasn’t entirely sure if doing that would damage his save file or not, but he just couldn’t bring himself to worry about that right now.

No, there was a much more serious, pressing issue at the moment - Marinette Dupain-Cheng, a civilian, had discovered his identity through her clever deductive skills and through not fault of his own. At least, that was how he’d phrase it to Ladybug. Hopefully she believed him. Because otherwise…? Well, he was going to be in trouble.

“So, what’s the plan, big cat?” Plagg asked, sounding far too chipper about all this, with his wide grin and the amused gleam in his eyes. Adrien would have thought that his kwami would have been the more scared of the two of them, but there was no time to question that now.

Especially since his kwami had asked him that same question last night after Adrien had explained just how badly he’d messed up - and just who had discovered his true identity. All he could say then was that he’d sleep on it and something would come to him in the morning.

Well, the morning was here and as he stepped off the limo dropping him off at school, he had absolutely nothing to show for it. The only bright side is that he was here early enough that he could still hash things out with Plagg before classes started. With that intent in mind, Adrien rushed inside and made a beeline for the empty lockers.

“Okay…” Adrien ran his fingers through his hair, trying his best to keep cool and stay optimistic. “Well, at least it was her and not some random person, right?”

Plagg’s grin only grew. “Oh yeah, definitely. Probably the best person you could have accidentally revealed yourself to.”

“Right…” Adrien gave Plagg a suspicious glance. “We know Marinette. She’s shy, she’s a good friend, she’s honest. She wouldn’t intentionally reveal my identity, right?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Plagg pretended to inspect his paws. “She places a real high value on honesty, kid. And she’s best pals with the one and only Ladyblogger - a fact you know only all too well.”

“Yes, and-”

“Cuz you stare at pictures of Ladybug on there all the time.”

“Not all the time-”

Plagg shrugged. “Eh, close enough. But back to pigtails - what’s the plan?”

“Well, we know she’s shy, right? So what if I really ramp up the Chat Noir charm on her? And while she’s still trying to get her bearings I tell her how important it is to keep identities secret and everything.”

Adrien nodded slowly to himself, feeling the framework of a plan coming together. A few zingers and flirty lines started forming in his head. “That should buy us enough time until we see Ladybug again. I bet she’ll know what to do.”

It was at that moment Adrien closed the locker door and nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw that Marinette was oh so casually leaning up against the locker beside him.

“I didn’t catch that last part,” she said, a knowing smirk on her face. “Who will know what to do? Or, even better, just who were you talking to?”

“I… um…” Adrien swallowed, confronted with Marinette leaning toward him, arms behind her back and a look of serene curiosity on her face, but with an insidious glee in her eyes. “Just my...”

Her voice was just barely above a whisper as she spoke into his ear. “...Kwami, maybe?”

All the gears in Adrien’s head ground to a halt and in the face of her… well, face, which was little more than a hand’s breadth away from his own. Coming up with coherent thoughts was just about impossible and all he could do was go, “Uhhhh…”

“I thought so.” Her smirk returned. “See you in class!”

With a wink that did things to his heart, Marinette walked away, her hands still held behind her back. Adrien was frozen in place, staring at the spot she had been in as the sound of her humming faded off into the distance.

For a moment, he wondered about how she knew about kwamis. But memories of Multimouse soon surfaced in his mind and he realized just how doomed he was. After all, if Ladybug had chosen her, she had to be good.

Adrien swallowed heavily, but his mouth was dry. This was going to be a long, long day. And he no longer had any grasp on the situation whatsoever.

----------------------

Where was the girl that stuttered in front of him every single day? Because she certainly wasn’t behind him in class that day. It couldn’t be, not by the way he could constantly feel her eyes on his back, and how she kept passing him notes. Adrien hadn’t had a moment to pull himself together since their little talk in front of the lockers.

Even during class, she found a way to keep him on the back foot, he reflected as another slip of paper found its way in front of him. The one before it had simply been a flirty cat pun, which he wasn’t sure was supposed to be an actual flirt or just teasing him. Taking a steadying breath, he opened up this one to see what it had to say.

Inside was a quick drawing of what had to be him - green eyes, blonde hair, his white jacket with the black shirt - with a speech bubble that just said, “meow meow meow meow meow.”

He quickly hide the drawing under his notebook, just in time since Ms Bustier turned back around at just that moment to address the class. If she saw, would she confiscate them? Or, even worse, would she make them read them out loud in class? Besides being embarrassing to have to say ‘meow’ five times outloud, would they give his classmates the edge they needed to discover his secret identity? Who else but a catboy would be able to say meow so effectively?

Ms Bustier turned back toward the white board and his momentary reprieve ended. Another note - this one folded into an American football - landed at his elbow. Ignoring the questioning look Nino was sending his way, Adrien opened it.

This one was just a drawing of a cat… a cat that unmistakably had his hair.

Adrien quickly shoved it into his pocket but no sooner had he managed that than another one landed right in front of him. Keeping an eye on Ms Bustier all the while, he felt it open with his hands and glanced down once he thought he’d gotten it.

Another drawing of him. This time with the words ‘pretty kitty’ and an arrow pointing at him.

That one got him to turn around, just enough to look at her. She looked back down at him, shameless, and even had the audacity to wave her fingers at him.

“Adrien, eyes up front please!”

He snapped back to attention at Ms Bustier’s gentle but firm command. There was a slight murmuring in the classroom, but it passed just as quickly as it began. After a couple minutes,  another note landed in front of Adrien.

Unheard by anyone else, Adrien let out a long, frazzled sigh.

--------------

Adrien collapsed onto his bed, finally home from a long day. Gym class and an hour of fencing didn’t do nearly half as much as just having Marinette behind him, flirting with him surreptitiously for the entire time they had classes together. And it was unquestionably flirting - eventually even he had no choice but to admit that she was hitting on him.

But why? He had to wonder. Was it because of her feelings for Chat Noir? Had something happened to awaken this in her from their time on her island last night?

Shaking his head, he decided he’d have to ask her tomorrow…

...Only for his phone to go off.

Naturally, it was Marinette, a fact he noted with wide eyes and quickening pulse.

Marinette: Open your island?

Adrien stared at that message for long minutes before it finally dawned on him that she was talking about his Animal Crossing island. After everything that had happened today, he had almost completely forgotten how his identity had been compromised.

His internal debate on whether or not to actually do what she asked was short. In a matter of minutes, he had his switch in his hands and was opening up his airport. His only response was to send her the access code.

He ran in circles as he patiently waited for her to arrive. The plane loading screen came up and he frowned at her passport title. “Rascally Bug Fan”? He could have sworn that wasn’t what it had been a few days ago…

Then she landed and the cutscene played, showing her character walking out of the airport gates. But she wasn't in the clothes that she had been wearing when he visited her island yesterday. No, she was wearing a red, black spotted suit, a superhero mask, and with a rose in her hair.

Everything clicked and he let out an involuntary gasp that turned into an undignified, startled squawk as his fingers slackened and his switch fell onto his face. He quickly rolled to a sitting position and watched Marinette - or, should he say Ladybug? - walk up to where he was standing.

He used the anger react and she responded with a laugh. Remembering the day that she had put him through, he felt the corners of his mouth twitch up in a smile. He had his character use the love react, a pink heart floating above his head.

She smacked him with a net.

[kaypeace21]

i'm losing hope of byler being an endgame :( milevens say that we are invalidating mileven, besides having several scenes that they show "passion/love". they make fun of us, besides always giving reasons why mileven is an endgame, and disrespecting other people's ship, and maybe actually Will will be with another boy right?? idk but I really hope I'm not being deluded

lol  lets not focus on byler for a sec and mostly discuss mileven. what scenes show mileven’s  ‘passion/love’? Because the show invalidates mileven constantly-why they’re so aggressive/afraid of us.THEY KNOW IT’S DOOMED (they live in head canons and nothing else).  I’m going to try keeping this short by doing bullet points.

-The writers in s3 threw in a telemarketing joke just for Mike to say “El. no. sorry not interested” and hang up the phone. 

- Flo  in s1: “only love makes you that crazy and that damn stupid.”

Mike: “if we’re both going crazy. we’ll go crazy together right?”will: “yeah, crazy together “ *smile and stare longingly at eachother *————————————————————-Mike: “they do say it makes you crazy”El: “what makes you crazy?”(the exact opposite of crazy together as she continues to be confused over every explanation he gives of love 😂)————————————————————-During the byler fight  Mike says “el’s not stupid!” After this, Will calls himself “ so stupid “ 4x .  rips up photo where they said they’d go crazy together and cries . But, El after fighting with mike happily says: “there’s more to life than STUPID boys .”  El’s catchphrase being “not stupid” which she says in s2 before going to see Mike at the school. And Nancy before Mike says he loves El / Mikeduring the byler fight (about mileven) say “El’s not stupid!”

original gifs  sources

-the s3 stobin confession parallels mileven’s s3 shop confession (full analysis in link). Both El/Robin have bandages on their legs and both pairings sit together (on the floor) during their confessions- and are interrupted by Dustin. And in both straight baits- the guys use the terms “stupid/crazy” but subvert the expectation of it being romantic-as both girls say they’re not “crazy” or “stupid” for the guy. El saying “what makes you crazy?” in response to Mike. And Robin saying she was not into Steve’s “stupid hair” (similar to El saying there’s more to life than ‘stupid boys’/other saying she’s not stupid.”Also the song ‘the first i love you’ only plays twice in s3. During Steve’s romantic confession and robin rejecting him because she’s gay & El’s romantic confession and awkward kiss with mike (where Mike doesn’t reciprocate). Cause Robin/Mike are both gay and will reject the romantic confession.

- Erica making he-man and barbie kiss: “Hey , They’re in love!”Lucas (livid- and standing right next to a rainbow forcing them apart): “No, actually,  they’re not. they’re not even from the same planet.”  El even watches he-man in s1! Mileven is not in love!

Cue El and mike being compared to ET and Eliot -WHO AREN’T FROM THE SAME PLANET (by the Duffers in multiple interviews and in the pilot script ) .   And then there’s the  old euphemism of “girls come from Venus, and boys come from Mars”.  The Duffers saying mileven isn’t in love cause they’re not from the same planet (aka the same gender) -is just them telling us Mike is gay so he can’t fall for El-who is a girl/diff species. They literally have Will say to Mike “welcome to my world” as a contrast. So El telling mike he should ‘stick with his own species’ (aka boys) is another gay hint.

In s2 they even had El wear the same shirt as a 1986 movie character (staring Winona Ryder). The movie is called coincidentally “lucas”- and he’s in an unrequited romantic relationship with a gal named maggie. And he later says him and Maggie are  from “different worlds.” El being movie-Lucas in a unrequited romance, in this scenario. And the other easteregg is the Duffers have st-Lucas  say the “planet/worlds” similar to movie-Lucas.

some milevens also attribute romeo/juliet to mileven cause Dustin mentioned it while mileven was out of shot. But romeo & juliet weren’t actually in love-it was just kids in infatuation. And also used to describe the unrequited infatuation of Lucas/Maggie.

-Also when dustin in s1 says el is “like a wizard” (like Will.) Mike corrects dustin and says “more like yoda”. Really hammering down the alien references- which the Duffers reference to el in interviews all the time-by comparing her to et . In the pilot they even said mike and el are like “Eliot and et.” They said they made el dress like a ghost cause et did so- and then for the extra burn they made mike a ghost hunter/buster. And they also said that EL’s makeover in s1 was like et’s in the movie. And sorry ... who compares the girl they “crush on” with a green gross alien (yoda)- kind of shows how he sees her more as this foreign superpowered entity rather than a girl/crush. And on what planet is et /Eliot romantic??Answer is -it’s not. 

- In contrast, They have Mike and Will parallel  Diane and Venkman. In ghost Busters, Mike -is Venkman- and Will -is Dana Barret- who Venkman flirts with shamelessly until she is possessed. Dana finds a demon-dog in her fridge, and hires the ghost busters. And right before Venkman goes on a date with her she is possessed by the big-bad, Zuul, and is transformed into the gate-keeper (who controls demo(n)-dogs). Venkman proceeded to try to talk to the real Dana , ignoring her possessed form and eventually realizes how serious her condition is, is forced to sedate her. Eventually with the help of his team, Venkman closes the gate to Zuul’s dimension, rescuing Dana in the process. And Venkman plants one on Dana before riding away in triumph. While, El is a ghost and Mike is a ghost hunter XD

Notice in the same season lucas says mileven is ‘not in love’ and compares mileven to he-man and barbie .  Dustin has a  he-man & Et next to each other (along with a ghost buster sign above them, and the ghostbusters-trap next to et). This just reinforces the mileven eastereggs I’ve already talked about -  and how they want you to make the connections  about mileven not being in love. They showed et/barbie next to he-man, had El watch he-man, compared El to Et (who had a barbie-like makeover/ghost costume), so the next he-man ref of ‘not being in love’  cause rhey’re from different planets would connect in a more obvious way to mileven.  Same with Et next to the ghost trap and ghost busters sign (and El dressing as a ghost and Mike as a ghost buster-as an extra burn).

- Mike dehumanizing El is hammered down again when they compare s1 mileven to s2 dart /dustin (a demo dog) , to further show how un-romantic it is. Fin even said the duffers told him Mike saw el (OFFENSIVELY) as a “puppy’ (right after s1).  And of course millie accurately said “what a horrible way to describe me!”But the parallels are there: Dustin/Mike sharing sweets ( nougat vs eggos) for breakfast and saying they’ll have to wait for them to come home from school. And having mike annoyed, say  “a bond? cause you shared nougat?!” is dissing milevens who think the ego thing is cute/romantic. Dustin/Mike saying they ‘promised’ to take care of them and that they ‘trust’ dustin & mike. Dart killing a cat and El almost killing a cat. Dustin/Mike trying to convince Lucas- Dart & El aren’t bad. The boys thinking both El & Dart were bad guys causing both to end up running away because of that. Mike even admits in s1 he doesn’t like eggos and told El she doesn’t have to eat “like a dog” anymore.  it’s ironic when Mike says to Dustin “she’s not a dog” cause he treated her as such. Why El says in s3 angrily , “am I your pet?” It’s because he did/does unfortunately treat her this way to some degree. 

-They Parallel Mileven to Hopper & El (since mileven isn’t actually romantic)!

*teaching the meaning of promise vs com-promise. And making “promises” to eachother is not some super romantic thing- for just mileven.

* Telling her to eat “real food” vs eggos

* saying her new look is “cool”and saying it’s “bitchin” after El says the look is.

* Saying others are “corrupting her” and in response gals say neither respect her ability to make “decisions” in regards to romance. Hopper not accepting Mileven together (want them to break up)  and Mike not accepting she dumped him.

* Max saying to not let Hopper/Mike control her

*El saying “you lie” to both of them

ok , back to listing other points

- they dance to ‘every breath you take’ a break up song about a stalker ex who can’t accept he is now with her friend. The writer of the song also has said many times “it’s NOT a love song.” The duffers obviously knew that. Lumax also danced to it and Lucas was called a ‘stalker’ . El also stalked Mike in s2 (all that stuff milevens found romantic- El watching him without him knowing. Mike says he was not ok with it in s3). And in s3 he said not to do that and she just says ‘i make my own rules’.Plus, sting (the singer) mentions it’s supposed to sound romantic but the lyrics are sinister. And that the ambiguity/deceptive happy -romantic tone was intentional. Kind of like how people think mileven is healthy and in love when the show (ambiguosly says ) that it’s not -and the “opposite”.Just like the song being misinterpreted as romantic because of its deceptive packaging -mileven is the same . Mileven got popular cause everyone missed all the warning signs it wasn’t healthy (cause it was packaged as ‘cute’ and ‘ in love’) when behind the surface it was shown to be the opposite and not healthy.

 Not to mention Nancy teaching Dustin how to dance is a direct parallel to Mike teaching El. 

Mike also tries to act like Dustin, and  forces Will to dance with a girl (who’s wearing a rainbow hair clip). Trying to be a good sport like Dustin is about lumax. And right after this we see Dustin look sad about Max/Lucas dancing and Mike (next to Dustin) look sadly at Will/girl dancing in the same exact frame as Max/Lucas. As they switch between these 2 shots to emphasize their sadness/jealousy.Then they both sit down (mirroring each other) on the verge of tears before Nancy and El show up to comfort them and distract them.  As El once again (presumably) wears Nancy’s dress. Mike after El asks “will you be my brother?” “you cant go  (to the snowball) with your sister... i mean you can but it’d be really weird.” 

- before their first kiss in s1 she asked if he would be like her brother (after being compared to a cousin, and being compared to Holly, and wearing Nancy’s dress.) In s2 they even make a direct parallel to Luke &Leia (who were siblings who had a weird romantic relationship/kissed before realizing they were related). Mike (as Leia) saying “it’s a trap” to El (Luke). 

- Mike in s1 writes a d&d story for Will inspired by star wars.  in ep one Will tells Mike “it was a 7, the demogorgan it got me.”At the end of the season Mike writes a whole story of him and his friends killing a 7 headed monster, and showing the decapitated head of the monster to king Tristan (Will). Similar to how at the hospital he tells Will to not worry cause “it’s dead now”. This is right after Will rolls a 14 (cause Mike and Will are 7s together). And Mike who is a fan of starwars has King Tristan give them medals after killing the monster. Cause he wants Will/king tristan (instead of Leia -a girl) to present him with medals and be his romantic love interest (and praise him for being a hero).

- They had Dustin call mileven “bullshit” just like stancy (who were never in love). And in s3 for almost every single character in the show to dislike mileven . if that isn’t a cry for help from the writers idk what is XD

other stancy parallels: Making out on a bed to cheesy music. stancy wasn’t in love but they kissed the most in the series and nancy and steve (similar to mileven exchanged ‘i love yous’) but weren’t endgame and it was never love. Mike and Steve sing to their gfs and neither girls are fans and cut them off.In s1, both Nancy/Mike slap Steve and El and then both yell “ What is wrong with you?!”  Stancy/mileven are compared to Karen/ted who according to Nancy “never loved each other”. El is a fan of ted’s lazy boy. (Karen in s3 looks at Ted in the chair when the lyric “I should have walked away “ plays). And Steve and ted continuing to eat chicken as their gf /wife storm off from the table upset , and they do nothing. After the mileven and Karen/Ted fight- Steve says while eating “what did I do?what did i do?” And mike while eating says about el after their fight “what did i do wrong? what did i do wrong?!Steve and Ted both tell Mike to “stay on the bench/you’re on the bench.” Karen/ ted that they “never loved each other” (just like mileven and stancy which are “bullshit.”) All 3 wheelers were with people cause it seemed like the rational choice ( rich guy/ popular guy/ girl). Not to mention mike said “ I don’t remember” ( in reference to saying he loved el ) . And doesn’t say it back when el says “I love you”. Which mimics Nancy in s2 saying “I don’t remember ” (saying the stancy relationship is bs) . And she is also unable to say she loves Steve when he says“say you love me.” And Steve and el walking away as both wheelers stand there in silence. Unable to say “I love you” back.  Also, when stancy officially breakup it also pans to mileven on the porch as another parallel.And 11byers mentioned (at Christmas)  jancy has a moment but despite stancy’s issues she goes back to Steve where she looks sad over the decision .  Similar to how Byler have a moment , but then after , mileven talks about christmas  and they have that awkward kiss. In s3, steve when talking about stancy and trying to be popular even says “dustin’s right it’s all a bunch of bullshit.” (meaning Dustin’s right about mileven). Steve even says “everything people tell you is important that you’re supposed to care about- it’s bullshit.” (same season Mike mimics Lucas’ words from s1 about El being the “most important thing”.

-They also had Mike tell Max “i don’t hate you. I don’t even know you.”  Aka he can’t hate Max or love el cause he knew both for a week-and doesn’t know them. The amount of mileven burns that were in s2 -were insane XD.

other direct contrasts between Mileven & byler 

besides the ones already mentioned. 1) ‘crazy together/so stupid’ vs ‘what makes you crazy?/el’s not stupid/more to life than stupid boys & 2) ‘they’re not in love they’re not even from the same planet’ vs byler’s ‘welcome to my world’

3) Mike has drastically different expressions after the byler/mileven fights and the difference in weather and music selection ,convey how Mike is feeling. He looks regretful with Will, and almost annoyed with El dumping him.  Mileven breaks up to upbeat music on a sunny day (the break up being in front a crowd and a joke) vs the morose music and the storm shown (with just Mike and Will fighting ). We are supposed to take the byler fight seriously and the mileven one as a joke.They had Mike apologize to Will immediately. But with El he says “what did i do wrong?’ (Kind of like how ted, after pissing off karen says “what did I do?”)And then had Mike wait by the phone for her to apologize- says sexist stuff about her. Then have mike laugh/burp and talk about cheese and El to laugh about the break up/high five max and immediately oggle a pic of another boy/male celeb (unlike Will who looks sadly at the pic of Mike after their fight). And then after staring at the  teen-male celeb,  El says she’s not sure if  Mike’s a good kisser cause he’s just her “first boyfriend” and she has no other boys to compare him to (implying she’s thinking of other boys in the future).  Contrasted to Will who said he thought him & Mike would never get gfs but just spend the rest of their lives together. El after all these events, then happily reads comics  as Max says she shouldn’t hang out with Mike all the time. VS Will having him sadly read his comic to distract himself  only to throw his comic on the ground right before he looks at the pic of mike from Halloween (where they said they would go ‘crazy together’), calls himself stupid (unlike El saying there’s more to life than stupid boys/mike saying El is not stupid-aka in love ). And then destroys castle byers /crIES after the their fight. These events were perfect opposites.

4) When Mike says in the pool shed she’s the “most important thing in the world” to him. she cuts him off and says Hopper is right about them spending too much time together. But when Mike in the shed says asking Will to be his friend was the “best thing he’s ever done” (it was practically the cliche of true love breaking the curse) XD.

When Mike says to El  “you’re most important thing to me” in the pool shed. El doesn’t even acknowledge the comment (and neither should the audience- cause the words were empty). The framing of this mileven scene was not cinematic or heartfelt, and neither was the delivery from Mike. He’s not crying, trying to reach her with proclamations of his genuine feelings. There’s no dramatic music, framing, lighting or shot composition (and the scene was incredibly short).And El just responds and cuts his supposed ‘true feelings’ off- only to agree with Hopper and says “ what if he’s right”  . I didn’t speed this up FYI.

Juxtaposed to the MUCH longer byler shed scene. A literal single tear falling down his cheek as Mike , recounts the first day they met. This whole monologue is only of tight shots of just their faces (their bodies aren’t shown like in the pool shed scene). With contrasting colors of light and shadow.This is a personal moment between them and them alone- and the fact we zoom in on their faces (expresses this to be important emotionally) . And when we see Will’s reaction to Mike saying “it was the best thing I’ve ever done”. We just see Will’s face only- no music is playing and all we hear is  Will’s whimpers and Mike crying in the background.*

5) Max in s2 at Will’s house questions how Mike can still trust Will now that he’s a spy for the mf . Max (in s3) at El’s house: says that Mike doesn’t trust El- and Mike mentions that her spying is why he doesn’t trust her.  in s2, Mike: “if anyone could stop them it’s Will“. Max: “ I thought we couldn’t trust him that he’s a spy for the mf now?” Max in s3 calling Mike out  : “El has saved the world twice. And Mike still doesn’t trust her.” Mike: you want to talk about trust really?! after... Eleven spied on us! I guess girlfriends don’t lie they SPY!”

Not to mention - the fact is... El has “saved the world twice but Mike still doesn’t trust her” to fight the mf. Yet he 100% believed Will could defeat the mf -despite Will being possessed/a spy for the mf . And despite the fact Mike  thinks Will has no powers - unlike El ( but we all know he does , though :P). And, Mike even says Billy is dangerous cause  the “mf is in him ...Billy’s mind is sick, diseased” (but with Will possession -Mike still trusted him).  Max rolls her eyes and stares challengingly at Mike cause she remembers what Mike said about Will in s2- and the hypocrisy . And she finds it annoying how little faith he has in her compared to his almost unmoving-trust in Will (who at the time was possessed) . Mike has 100% trust and faith in Will-but simply doesn’t trust El.  And MAX KNOWS IT! Cause she’s paying attention. Like her facial expression/raised brow, at the end, is a challenge- you think non-superpowered Will could defeat the mf but not El with a history of fighting monsters? You say Billy possessed by the mf is dangerous- but still have more faith in Will possessed by the mf- than your own gf?! tbh El couldn’t defeat the mf (so technically him trusting Will over  El was proven to be correct). He wasn’t right about the El ‘giving up’ bs and he was still wrong for not respecting El as her “own person” with her “own free will” : not believing in El’s ability to make decisions like breaking up with him/ not believing El made the idea to spy on him, etc . But, Team work has always been what saved the day in s1-2, so over-relying on El to do it all and acting like she was the messiah ( like most of the st fanbase) was a poor plan . It’s not the El-show (it’s an ensemble cast with several mains). When they relied on her only ,to be the chosen one- she lost her powers, 30+ people d*ed, and they had to save her.

6) ) El and Will both calling for “Mike” alone in the upside down . And Mike “never giving up” on them.In the exact same ep (s2 e2) , both call for Mike from the upside down. El saves herself without Mike’s help. But Mike rushes to save Will crouching to comfort Will (whose body language mirrors El’s but who was alone in the forest after she sees mike and he did nothing). 

in s2 ep 1, both call for Mike ,but Mike only comes for Will -not el. It was like how Nancy in s1 called for Jon, and jonathan pulled her out of the upsidedown.  And as Jonathan and Mike both pull Nancy and Will back from the upside down , Jonathan says “I got you”. And Mike says “I got him “ twice. But mileven is like how barb while in the upsidedown called for Nancy (but nancy didn’t hear her screaming her name-cause it shows symbolically Nancy does not return Barb’s romantic feelings). Just like mileven.

Mike even saw Will’s dead body but the second he heard his voice he convinced everyone he was alive. Mike deep down assumed El was dead he brushed off seeing El as seeing things (like how Hopper described seeing Sarah). He even tells Max “ they took her just like they took bob” who was dead. Then a few minutes later lies and says he “never gave up” on her when she appears alive (which was a lie cause he just said she was dead). When El goes to his house Mike doesn’t ever go the forest to find her (unlike how Mike went into the forest in the pouring rain twice for Will). The truth is the only person he ‘never gave up on’ was Will.

7) They have El & Will have pics of Mike on Halloween (same night of the ‘crazy together’ speech). El only has a pic of Mike being miserable  and Will has pics of Mike staring at Will, and smiling next to him- despite the joke Mike never smiles in photos , this isn’t the case when mike is next to Will (he always smiles with Will). Cause being crazy with Will makes him happy - unlike his relationship with El who he fakes being ‘crazy’ about .

zoom in of Will & El’s pics of Mike: Will’s pic on left vs El’s on right . XD

8) Millie said El is “obsessed with Mike” so she has Mike-themed stuff all over  her room. She has a drawing with a heart that says mike on it/random heart pics, mike pic, dice that spell out mike, mikes’ stuff. So, It’s funny that mike has nothing relating to El at his place. In contrast to this, he still has 5 d&d drawings from Will on his wall (that he’s kept on his wall for 3 years despite removing an old poster from that same wall-which he gave to El). Mike even put up a 6th Will-drawing in s3- next to his new poster. And he never put a single 1 of her many drawings on his wall-just Will’s).

back to other points...

- They compared mileven to karen/billy. El in s2 , mimics Erica Kane who m(in the ep she is watching) rushes into a relationship with a writer named Mike Roy. (That relationship is not endgame-and  literally ends with one of them stalking and sabotaging their next relationship, but eventually accepting it’s over). This, also parallels Karen/ Billy. Before she meets him in s2, Karen is reading a romance book that has a guy that resembles Billy on the cover. The Duffers even mentioned they changed the cover to show the resemblance between Billy and the fictional book character. And we see Karen reading the sequel in s3 before Billy appears. Both El and Karen don’t/didn’t love Mike or Billy- they just projected onto them fictional characters they were infatuated with. El being into Mike roy- but projecting her crush on to Mike wheeler.

-They had El’s whole s2 arc be destroyed to show mileven is bad for her. “friends don’t lie” to let me lie to my friends so I can kiss mike and ditch them. lucas even said “they’re lying (about her curfew).”And lie to Mike about hearing his confession. Then in s2 trying to leave the cabin to experience the world and see my friends and fam again. To literally ignoring them all for 6 months and never leaving the cabin-despite Hopper letting me leave the house in s3.

- El in s3 says Mike treats her “like a pet” and “garbage”.

-In s1 Mike referred to her as a ‘weapon’  to help get Will back. smacked her when he thought she lied about Will being alive and said Lucas was right about her all along when he thought Will was dead and he couldn’t use her anymore. 

- They had El never apologize for spying/stalking . And  Mike never apologize for lying -despite it being the cause of the breakup . And had mike not reciprocate the kiss/ or say ‘i love you ‘ back  and had his eyes open while the same exact song plays that robin came out to: called ‘the first i love you’). These are the only 2 times the song plays in s3. The ‘first i love you’ also sounds like ‘the first lie’ - that song played when jancy said they were just friends. it sounds the same cause jancy lied about it not being romantic while mileven lied by saying it was.  He never apologized for lying cause the love is the lie- like Max said “boyfriends lie ALL THE TIME”. And it’s why the camera panned to Will when Lucas asked why Mike lied to her. And he never answers El’s question of ‘why do you lie?!’ (he just looks up silent and guilt ridden).This awkward kiss all happens in Will’s room too while Mike is in front of an open closet (while El is holding Will’s old bear).  

Plus he also fought with Hopper in s2 (’about El’) in Will’s room too. He wasn’t actually calling Hopper the liar he was calling himself “a stupid disgusting liar”out of self hate .  That scene was foreshadowing his lying to El in s3 (about his feelings for her). He blamed Hopper for his feelings for Will cause he told himself it wouldn’t have escalated if El had been around to ‘fix him’ . “I BLAME YOU! NOTHING ABOUT THIS IS OK! NOTHING ABOUT THIS IS OK. YOU STUPID DISGUSTING liar, liar, liar, liar”.starts crying.

- Mike says “i never gave up on you (to El). “ When moments earlier he says “it took her just like it took Bob.” HE’S LYING AGAIN. He always thought she was dead -he was just hoping she was alive so he didn’t have to blame himself. He felt bad for treating her like a “weapon”. Mike saw El and didn’t even bother looking for her in the woods cause he assumed she was dead and was hallucinating. Mike saw Will’s dead body- but heard his voice and got him from another dimension (for El he couldn’t even bother to walk into the woods). Despite going into the woods in the pouring rain 2x for Will in s1& 3. El and Mike both call for Mike in the upside down (Mike in the same ep only comes for Will).

- They barely spoke to each other and all they did was makeout for 1 ep (while Mike put a drawing of ‘Will (the fire wielding) wise’ on the wall to help him kiss her/ with rainbows pic everywhere in the room to signify he’s gay and lying).  All while listening to a mixtape Will gave him as he kisses El.As Mike moves her hands off him (and sings a song from ‘boy in the box’) and El says to Max later she doesn’t know if mike’s a good kisser . And Mike rushes to one of his many established double-dates with Will and lumax  (x). And Mike in s3 when dating el, removes the sign of the heart being propelled by a rainbow (which he had before meeting El in his basement) .BUT it follows him symbolically ,as a drawing of a heart being propelled by a rainbow (in el’s room- cause no matter how much he kisses el there, he can’t escape his rainbow/being gay.)

-as mileven kiss in s3 e1. We zoom in on the drawing of Will the wise (the lyrics over the pic are “a little more time can open closing doors”). And then Mike continues to sing this song from ‘boy in the box’ (cough closet).Will in s3e1 says he won’t fall in love and the song then a diff song plays “love that was new to you , you open up the door.” mileven at the end of s3 kissing in front of Will’s open closet door with Mike’s eyes open not kissing back , and saying he doesn’t “ remember “ the love you and just says it was “in the heat of the moment”. The mike song being from “boy in the box” (closet). And they make out to “I can’t fight this feeling” which the singer says is about wanting to admit your feelings to your friend of many years and being afraid it’ll ruin the relationship. Aka even when kissing El he’s thinking of Will and admitting his feelings and not being able to fight his feelings

- Mike saying about Max “awesome? you don’t even know her.” Dustin says “ i don’t have to i mean look at her.” El was said in s1 multiple times to look like a boy (specifically Will). So Dustin and Lucas had no interest in her -only Mike did. BUT when max (a girl who looked like a girl) arrived- they as straight boys  were smitten. And Mike was not interested at all (cause he’s gay). The fact people don’t realize Mike was rude to her because he thought Will liked her too makes me laugh - he even was 1/2 honest in s3 saying he was jealous of her  XD 

why in s3 (when she looks like a girl) the compliment to her look is almost the same as Hopper’s comment to her makeover in s2. Paralleling Mike to her dad is the opposite of romantic!

-people say in s3 Will saying “a day free of girls” is gay coded but everyone ignores Mike in s3 saying “BOYS ONLY”. Same energy.

-MiKE has more rainbows than Will: Mike’s rainbow bedroom blinds, the rainbow-heart wooden sign in the basement in s1, the rainbow heart drawing that says Mike in s3, a rainbow sticker in his room, byler standing behind a rainbow poster in s2. And Will with the rainbow ship and the girl he danced with having a rainbow hearts-hairclip.

- People mention Mike saving El in s3 was romantic ( when he hit Billy). But when Billy slapped max he charged in to save her too and tried punching him (despite their beef). that moment wasn’t romantic (unless you think madweheeler is- which no). Mike is just a good person- he also risked his life for dustin. He’s brave and will defend HIS FRIENDS. 

- we’re almost to the end for those not keeping tract mileven is compared to stancy, ted/karen,  karen/billy, stobin, Dart/Dustin, max &mike, barb/nancy, nancy & dustin, siblings & cousins & a parent/kid dynamic. And contrasted to byler.

- Finn, after s1, said the duffers told him,   Mike thinks of her as a “puppy/ “et” , and that Mileven was a  “first summer love thing”- foreshadowing what was mileven’s downfall during the Summer (aka s3). He repeats this “first summer love” phrase 2x.  Millie when he mentioned what the duffers said, rightfully thought the puppy thing was “awful”, but Finn was clearly told mileven doesn’t last -very early on.Summer love” by definition fails-as it only lasts during the summer.  

-It wasn’t a break it was a breakup. Like Max and Will said in response to Mike  “ she said she dumped your ass! That doesn’t sound like a break?!/ it wasn’t!’ Or El knocking all the candy out of the machine, except the kit kat Mike wanted. Slogan of kit-kat “ having a break , have a kit kat.” In other words, it was NOT a break. It was a breakup. Difference is - in s4 it’ll be El who can’t accept this fact , not Mike. Max having to correct El that Mike is her “ex boyfriend” after the breakup (in s3) foreshadows this.The other couples in s3 who fought -were always still paired together in framed shots (jancy/ lumax) were on a break (but got back together- by the end of s3,  not confident about their futures together, but they still have a distinction from mileven-based on such framing). That mileven didn’t get back together. El in s3 was always on her own and Mike was paired with Will (while the other couples were in frame). 

this could go on and on honestly. there’s so much other stuff proving mileven is not going to be endgame. Not to mention all of Mike’s queer coding (x) XD   

[sprstories]

could I possibly get some platonic scriptliss/tess ,,,, maybe an au where tess is able to be saved ? or at least is able to control 1x1x1x1 a bit better

but it's up to you what you want to write !! :D

For Tess, bringing (or rather summoning) a demon into his home was definitely a new way of life, considering that now he would have to take care of the permanently guest. Because yes, apparently the demon ironically did not know how to return to hell.

Ok, you can't blame Scriptliss for being summoned at a young age and considering that the chances of someone summoning a young demon were low, no one bothered to teach him the basics, at least not now.

Now, it wasn't like Scriptliss was a child either, he was a teenager, yes, but he was still a minor, maybe he's a year younger than Tess?

Anyway, never mind, he was going to take care of Scriptliss now, it was his responsibility now that he had permanently separated him from his family (if he had any).

The first days were not very comfortable, before he could calm the demon and not let him cry all day, but it was still uncomfortable, and more uncomfortable was the moment when he found him in the fireplace... sitting on the fire.

Demons cannot be burned with normal fire, and he deduced that the reason he sat there was because he got used to warmer places.

Many times he tried to get the boy out of there, all attempts with the same results, being scratched (and almost burned) by the demon with a tendency to be a cat.

And if Tess tried to speak with him, the ribbon-tail demon ignored him, how rude, but understandable, have a nice warmer day Script!

But he was getting tired of that, Scriptliss knew how to throw all his sanity and work to the trash, little by little he began to get tired of his stoic and indifferent attitude, he felt hated, and he did not like to be hated.

On the part of Scriptliss, he couldn't do anything, he was trapped, he had nowhere to go, nor would the robloxian with violet hair let him go anywhere, he felt... kidnapped.

He didn't even sleep at night, he was afraid of being attacked from behind. Every day he was more tired, and that meant more irritability and aggressiveness against the "human".

He also felt fear running down his back, fear of dying, many rumors said that demons died faster on the surface than in hell, no demon could confirm it, perhaps it is why those who tried to confirm it died in the attempt?

He wanted to cry, never thought of dying at a young age.

then a day, in that dysfunctional environment, the, presumably older, finally faced his guest from hell.

— We need to talk. — The demon growled, turning his back on him. Tess might well have prevented that if it weren't for Scriptliss being engulfed in layers of fire that could severely burn him. More tired than everything, he began to speak. — Do you hate me, right? i.. i will not hurt you, i swear. — He waited for response, but nothing came from the demon's mouth. — Listen, i know i probably.. made a huge mistake summoning you, you can't go back to hell, that's sad yeah, but... you can give this world a little chance? —.

— I don't want you to be here, with me. Go away. —.

His voice felt... hurt, with a little fear, it was actually the first time in days that the bookmark one spoke. But that didn't really matter to Tess, honestly, he just wanted to figure things out and if possible, have a new friend so he wouldn't feel so alone.

It sounds selfish, but who knows, maybe and Tess is the first social interaction Scriptliss had in his life, he was convinced that he could show him the world and see the beauties in the surface.

— In case you haven't noticed, this is my house, and you can't kick me out of the room just because you want to be alone. — Tess was getting more and more angry.

— I want to be alone because you intimidate me and scare me, and I don't want to see you, and you're ugly and i hate you... and.. and.. — Apparently he had no other words to express his displeasure. — and i can't leave this fireplace, i need to be warmer. —.

— I see, and if I turned off this fireplace ... would you talk to me? —.

Then Scriptliss turned more scared than ever, seeing the alchemist with one hand on a lever, firmly stroking the handle of the lever, threatening to put out his fire.

— WAIT NO, NO, DON'T TURN OFF THE FIRE. FINE, I WILL TALK TO YOU. —.

And that scared look he gave... made the alchemist wish he had swallowed those words.

Now all that Tess anger turned to slight sadness and shame, he regretted having to threaten Scriptliss to get his words.

— Ok, i'm sorry for that. — Tess spoke, ashamed. — but, tell me now, "Script". Why do you find me scary? —.

Scriptliss looked at the ground, helpless, and half astonished that the purple haired boy remembers his name (because Scriptliss honestly did not remember his partner's name).

— To begin with, you kidnapped me, or so I feel, I feel locked up and it's your fault, to be honest. — Script made a serious grin. — second, I don't trust you much, I don't know if you could stab me in the back or something like that. And third, I literally don't know you, I don't remember your name, and it's awkward now to adjust to living with a stranger. —.

And there it was, the bitter truth, the ugly thought about his person, and the worst thing was that it was true.

Tess waited to hear simple words, they weren't ready to savor THAT truth. The Robloxian's hand scratched lightly against his own hair, nervous.

— Yes, I see how it is, actually... i didn't expect to leave you with me until I realized that you couldn't go back to hell, I figured that if I let you go, you'd get in troubleand the mental fault would be mine. — Scriptliss looked at him seriously, recording those words that would stay like fire in his mind. — I'm sorry that you felt so locked up, I never really had a guest at my house and I didn't know where to leave you, plus you... always stayed there... in the fire .. looking at me as if you were a cat, a very aggressive one.

Tess let out a small laugh, which inevitably rubbed off on Scriptliss by imagining himself as a cat.

— Look, the point is, I understand that you distrust me and do not feel free... if you want you can go now. The door is here, unlocked. —.

The crimson widened his eyes, apparently now he was free, and might feel good, if not for a little problem.

Where would he go now?

He wanted freedom, but at the same time he was afraid to go to the outside world, he felt locked up, but somehow safe.

And the alchemist was right, if he showed himself to the world as a demon, he could possibly cause many disasters.

Had a great mental dilemma, to leave or not to leave? it was something so simple and complex to assimilate.

He looked at his surroundings, now that he noticed it, never noticed that staying there was the best idea, he always thought about leaving, but leaving meant revealing himself against the world.

And inside... at least he had a fireplace and a strange alchemist who swore to protect him. Besides, that guy already explained WHY he didn't want to let him go.

— Don't you want to leave? I am not saying that you stay here, if it is more comfortable for you to get away from this place, I accept it. —.

Scriptliss looked at him with pity, now he felt a little bad for having treated him horrible, Tess only wanted to help him, how ungrateful he was!

— I... i... I will stay here. — Then he received a surprised look, it seemed that Tess's soul went out for such an answer, but in a few seconds, that look turned into a big and bright smile, that only confirmed that... Tess was actually a good boy. — Don't look at me like that, i'm staying here just because i need the fireplace. —.

Tess nodded, extending his hand to his new supposed friend. But then he came to his senses and pulled his hand away before gets burned, he really had to get him out of there without scaring Script.

— Look, don't be scared, but I need to put out the fireplace. —Scriptliss pouted. — Don't look at me like that, you're not going to stay there forever, besides, if you want to get used to this new life, you'll have to take the first step.

But scriptliss could no longer repent, he had signed his sentence, his new life, he would have to get used to the surface temperature, and depend on that alchemist.

— ... Fine. —.

Before Tess could put out the fire, the demon jumped out of the fireplace causing his temperature to drop and the fire to rise.

And now that he saw him well and standing on his two legs, he noticed that... they did not have much difference in height, perhaps and even Script passed him by an inch or two.

It was inevitable that the demon would start to shiver from the sudden temperature change, he felt frozen. And it was noticed by the Robloxian.

— Uh, look, you can lie on that sofa, that one, the one in front of you, I'll bring you some blankets and a hot tea, okay? —.

Scriptliss nodded, leaning back and inevitably starting to feel drowsy, the effects of insomnia hitting him hard after three days without sleep.(Or just sleeping an hour each day).

As for Tess, he had several dilemmas in his head, now he would (officially) take charge of the demon until he gets used to it, that meant having to adapt him to the "real world" in a subtle way, but that wouldbe taken care of later, now his duty It was making the devil comfortable, he deserved it, you see.

He had to hide it from the world until he got over his fears from the outside, he was confident in bringing his "new friend" forward, he was not a normal robloxian, but he was a living being that was simply traumatized by ridiculous stories from hell.

Tess returned to the living room, and was not surprised to find Scriptliss asleep on his sofa, it was to be expected, for something he did not make the tea first.

He rolled the crimson gently over the fabrics and let the heat of the fire embrace him. That would definitely calm him down.

He stared at it for a while, many thoughts invaded his mind, to tell the truth, he was somewhat excited and nervous about the unexpected turn that his life took, who knows, maybe and in the future they will get along and have at leastone friendship or tolerance for each other.

A robloxian and a demon... friendship not very common to see, especially around here, but never impossible.

But, he really did see a bright future for both of them, and they would have it, didn't they?

...Tess, you should stop thinking about the future and focus on the present.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Extra info: Scriptliss got sick. (Thanks Tess very cool).