#best butt ive drawn in a long time

[thecosmicdiety]

Someone's probably already done it but goddammit I wanted to draw my own version of it 😤

Ultrakill but everyone turns into a monster of some kind. I hate drawing refs but I have *something* for Minos cause he's easier to draw lol

Idk if I'm gonna keep the fringe but we'll see

General consensus is that He'll decided to spice things up again after being bored for so long and started changing everyone physically. Minos' changes were some of the least intensive despite his spine extending but that's neither here nor there lol

[piercethekaeya]

my biggest fan

kazuha x afab! reader

band au

nsfw / includes praise kink

2.2k word count

a/n: didn't proofread so sorry for any mistakes 😓 and sorry it took me awhile to post ive been really busy Lol.

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cheering crowds echoed in your ears. the night breeze softly brushing against your warm skin. the anticipation sparkled in your eyes. the stage lights go on and suddenly nobody knows how to act. lovestruck, your favorite band, is on stage about to perform.

"are you ready??!" the lead singer and guitarist, kazuha shouts to the fans. the audience goes crazy, begging them to start the show. as they wish, kazuha starts to sing their opening song as his band members chime in with their instruments and backup vocals. your eyes stared at how kazuha's long fingers strummed the guitar strings so beautifully. "wondering where they could be–"

"the one that was meant for me!!" the crowd finishes the line, as the band continues playing. this was your favorite song, the one. your bff stands beside you, mostly because you dragged them here. "i really don't know what you see in this band y/n..." they complain.

you don't seem to pay attention. your attention is completely drawn to kazuha. his voice was mesmerizing, as if it were putting you in a trance. your friend points over to the drummer, gorou. "i think he's kinda cute." they add. the both of you butt heads on who's the cutest in the band.

after many songs, its lovestruck's time to end. "thank you all for attending the show, we hope to perform for you all again soon!" kazuha says in the mic as the crowd cheers for the final time. the bands starts to head off stage. your eyes follow kazuha as he coming close to end of the stage, only for his eyes to be looking right into yours. before you could tell your friend, he was already offstage.

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it was only yesterday you seen your favorite band perform, and now you were back at work behind the bar serving others. you got paid a good amount of money, but it just repetitive night after night.

it was a slow sunday night and it was cutting close to closing time. the familiar sound of the ringing bell above the front door as it swings open catches your attention and pulls you back into reality. the person coming in then sits in front of you. male customer, he dressed in all black— his hood and shades masking his appearance. "just a beer." he mutters. pretty sketchy, nevertheless you serve him quickly and start to clean up your work area. trying to break the silence, you start a conversation.

"so what brought you here tonight?" you ask while polishing some cups. the customer firmly slams his beer bottle onto the counter after quite a long sip. "just needed to step out of reality tonight." he tells you. "oh i totally get you, that was me yesterday at lovestruck's concert yesterday." you confess with a chuckle. he gives you a little smile before reaching for his bottle again.

"i heard about that concert, didn't get to make it though." he spoke with a sigh. "it was amazing, watching them perform was a dream come true! watching kazuha was the best part though." you say, taking it upon yourself to engage more with the customer.

"you seem to like this kazuha guy. what's he like?"

"well, he's not tall, not that short... he is quite literally goregous! he has platinum blonde hair with a red streak to match his beautiful red eyes... he's the guitarist of the band. i'm a huge fan!" you continue.

before the man can say anything, the alarm on your watch goes off. time to get out of here. "finally, i can go home." you sigh, turning your back to the customer to clean some things up before you head home.

"where is your bathroom?" he asks. without turning, you point to the direction of the bathroom. a few moments later, he sits in front of you again. "sorry for this request, but, another beer?" he asks from behind you.

"i'm sorry sir, but that was the last drink of tonight."

"oh c'mon... would you say that if kazuha were behind you??" he teases.

"if you were him, you would've got two beers." you joke. the man laughs. "but what if i was..."

anticipation gets the best of you, but youre confused when you dont see the mysterious stranger dressed in black head to toe– instead, sits a dreamy, amber eyed guitarist named kazuha.

"kazuha! kazuha?? kazuha??!!?!" you dont know whether to be shocked or happy. you quickly rush over to the freezer and grab two beers for him.

"you can put the beer back, i was just messing around. also, am i really that goregous?

you awkwardly laugh as you struggle trying not to embarrass yourself any more than you already have in front of kazuha. you cannot believe you said all that corny stuff to his face. "so, what are you still doing around here? aren't you still on tour?" you question him.

he sighs, leaning his face against his hand. "well, i leave tomorrow morning. i just wanted to check this place out, y'know?"

"must be nice traveling and performing... it's super boring bartending most nights." you complain. "it's fun," kazuha starts, "but it does get tiring. i love what i do but, i barely get any sleep. i'm overwhelmed with so many things to do and places to be... sometimes i just want to escape this reality."

just then, his eyes light up. "why don't we escape for awhile?" you almost drop dead when you hear those words come out of his mouth. "me? why me??"

"why wouldn't i want to hang out my number one fan?" he teases you.

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you find yourself behind the wheel, kazuha sitting beside you in the passenger seat. "you never told me your name." kazuha brings up.

"my name is y/n."

"okay, y/n, where are we going??"

"shhh, we're here!"

you pull into the beach parking lot and both you and kazuha run off into the horizon. you couldn't believe you were hanging out with your idol– building sandy snowmen, laughing, splashing and swimming with kazuha, as if the two of you knew each other since forever.

both you and kazuha lay in the sand, looking up at the moon. "what's the origin story of your band name? do you have a secret partner nobody knows about or something?? " you ask kazuha. after a pause, he shrugs his shoulders. "i dunno, i liked the name, but i just always wanted to know how it feels to be infatuated with someone." he confesses, shyly.

the two of you continue your conversation, talking in depth about things you've both probably never even told anyone else about. after that, both of you head back to the car to call it a night.

"i've never went to the beack at night, that was amazing!" you exclaim. kazuha nods his head in agreement. "neither have i." he says with a smile.

a sad smile then appears on your face. "i just wish this night could last awhile longer..."

it's quiet for a moment. it's quiet until you feel the warmth of kazuha's hand on your own. "we could, make this night last longer...." he suggests, his crimson eyes looking right into yours. your face gets hot. "won't your band mates worry if you don't return to your hotel tonight?" you ask. he shakes his head, "they're used to it. i'm usually out and around by myself."

"so what did you have in mind for the rest of the night kazuha?"

"why don't we just head back to your place and hang?"

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both you and kazuha sit on your bed; you're flipping through movies to watch on tv. "put a rom-com or something, those r pretty good right now." kazuha suggests. you find a rom-com that looks appealing and excuse yourself from the bedroom to change into something more comfortable.

when you cone back into the room moments later, you can't help but feel kazuha's eyes studying you. you've dressed in a tank top and shorts that happen to be way too short. during thd movie, you caught him staring at times, but then he'd pretend he was looking elsewhere, but it seemed pretty obviously by how flushed his face was.

"haven't you heard it's rude to stare?" you joke. he laughs, "of course i have, but, it's so hard when someone so attractive is beside me.. "

your heart flutters. "do you always hang out with other people, and just compliment them like this?" you ask.

"no, not usually. but, i was eyeing you in the crowd, you are my goregous number one fan after all... why wouldn't i compliment you like this?"

he gives you a cheeky smile before scooching closer to you. "shall we have some fun before i leave in the morning?" he slyly whispers in your ear.

the two of your eyes lock, and it's as if you were looking at him at the first time at the concert. he's so beautiful. your lips meet his before you can even mouth a response. he lifts you by the waist onto him without his lips leaving yours. you grind against him as he starts to kiss your neck.

"are you sure you wanna–?" before kazuha can even ask if you were ready to do it forreal, you're already tugging at his clothes. "needy, aren't ya?" he teases. he slips off your shorts, top and panties and pulls you back into his lap. you slowly lower yourself onto his erect cock, bouncing up and down slowly– your hands placed on his lightly toned abs with his hands guiding your hips as you ride him. "kah-kazuha!"

"just l-like that y/n..." he pants as you start to speed up your movement. his cock, impaling your insides. he cup's your breasts and begins to lightly suck your nipples. "h-how do you feel cutie~?" he asks, fucking you harder. "i f-feel so g-good~.." you choke, a moan following up. kazuha squeezes his eyes shut and presses you closer to him. "i'm g-gonna–" he's cut off by his moan when his warmth splatters inside the condom.

"just lay on the bed for me y/n."

you lay on your back, kazuha hovering over your naked body. "you're beautiful." he says, planting a kiss on your forehead. "i should be telling you that." you smile. kazuha can't help but notice the wet cunt that lay before him. he leaves kisses from your ankle, all the way up your thighs. he presses his thumb against your clit while he fucks your hole with his tongue. "oh! yes~!" you cry from the overstimulation. after a while, he switches from pressing to circling your clit harshly. "do you like that darling?"

"y-yes!" you hiss in pleasure. your back arches off the bed and without warning cream is spilling from your hole. kazuha kisses you passionately before placing his tip near your entrance. "you ready for me to rock your world, y/n?" he asks, caressing your cheek. "i'm always ready..."

he starts off slow, pumping in and out of you. he likes the way your squirming under him with that pretty face. "w-who's my biggest fan~?" he sings with a moan. "i am!"

he thrusting into you faster. "who's m-my biggest f-fan~??" he repeats, moaning louder. "i'm y-your b-biggest fan!" you spew, gripping the sheets. the longer this continues, the more he gets turned on. he pounds into faster and harder.

"just h-hold onto me beautiful...." he grunts. you wrap your legs and arms around his torso so he'd fuck you deeper. you can feel his cock smashing inside your sensitive walls, hitting that spot. "r-right there!~" you yell, rolling your eyes back to your brain.

kazuha thrusts real hard and holds his spot for a few seconds, letting you really feel his cock inside you. you're both at your limit. kazuha throws back his head with a loud moan. as more cum spurts into the condom, more cream spills out your gaping hole. he pulls off the condom and tosses it in the trash. exhausted, kazuha lightly falls on top of you and kisses your cheek before dozing off.

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you wake up to kazuha's naked body laying against yours. he wakes up a few seconds after you do. the two of you of you stare at each other for a bit, admiring each other's presence. "well, good morning kazuha." you giggle. "good morning y/n." he smiles before kissing you.

you both get ready quickly– kazuha's leaving soon. "i texted my band mates to just come pick me up here." he adds. you don't want it to be over. "we had lots of fun yesterday." you say, with a sad smile. he reaches for your hand and squeezes softly. "–and we can definitely do this again," he starts. "but maybe, next time we're something more serious?"

your heart pounds out of your chest. at a loss of words, you nod your head rapidly from excitement. "i would love that..." you finally say. kazuha tries to go in for a kiss, but gets interrupted when his phone goes off. he checks his phone for a second and says his band mates are outside waiting for him. "i can't wait to see you again." he expressed, his cheeks flushing red.

he pulls you in by your waist, kissing you passionately. "i'll never forget when i first laid eyes on my biggest fan or the night we shared, my love." a few moments after you exchange numbers, he takes his leave. now its only you who stands in your lonely home. you wasn't just his biggest fan, you was his number one choice.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

Dirty Deeds (Done Dirt Cheap) - Part 15

Summary: Sam inherits Steve Roger's crime empire after a handful of his men betray and kill him. The rest of the crime world, sensing an opening, go after Sam and the territories he's inherited from Steve. Thankfully, Steve left him a number, someone to call if he ever needs help. Someone, Steve claimed, he can trust. But can Sam really trust a mercenary with that much blood on his name? And that many knives in his pockets.

WARNINGS: (there will eventually be all of these things) blood, violence, murder, shooting, stabbing, sex, blood play , food related things: malnutrition, feeding, blow jobs, bathing/washing, chronic pain. Limb loss and regrowth. Bullet wounds. Gore.

18+ Content: Make Good Choices Kids <3

Ao3

He's waiting in bar again. Torres at his side. Helen and Maria by the door, guns drawn. Sam wasn't sure exactly what Bucky had meant by company, but he wanted to be ready. He'd woken everyone, and called a few people in. Everyone was dressed, looking slightly sleep ruffed, but alert. Sam's hand was beginning to sweat on the butt of his gun when he heard a shout down the hall, and then footsteps running toward the door. The man annouced himself before coming into the doorway.

"It's Barnes. And his...friend?" The man said, disappearing again. Sam sighed, shoving his gun back in its holster under his arm, and leaning against the bar. His elbows knocking against the wood there painfully. He heard Torres let out a breath next to him and glanced at him. Torres nodded, his gun still in his hand, but he was relaxed. Sam's eyes went to the door as he heard the front doors open and then slam closed, he heard them slide the security locks shut a second later.

Sam's heart was pounding as he listened to the sound of slow steps coming down the hall. It sounded like someone was dragging their foot as they walked, and there was a strange squeaking noise as well. He blinked slowly, trying to calm his breathing as he waited to see what fresh hell Barnes was bringing to him now.

He nearly chocked when saw the man cross the threshold, being wheeled in in a... was that a fucking wheelbarrow? Sam narrowed his eyes and noticed the man was missing a foot. His eyes moved over him, noting the uncomfortably small appendage growing out of his shoulder. Sam's stomach turned at the sight, he walked out from behind the bar, ready to confront Barnes about what exactly was happening, when his eyes fell on the man. Sam swallowed and stepped closer, Bucky was pale, more so than usual, and he was bleeding again, Sam could see blood dripping down his hand onto the floor. He'd stopped pushing the wheelbarrow and was swaying in place now, blinking slowly a few times before sqeezing his eyes shut and then blinking rapidly. Sam took another step closer.

"Wade, Sam. Sam, Wade." Bucky muttered, not moving, his voice flat. Sam nodded, his eyes moving to Wade briefly before going back to Bucky.

"Ho. Ly. Fuck nuts. Talk about a face you could sit on. Look at those fucking cheekbo- mmph!" Wade cut off as Bucky clamped his hand over his mouth, the eyes on his mask going wide. Sam watched Bucky look down slowly, Wade looked up at him. Bucky furrowed his brow and shook his head, once, Wade looked up at him for a long moment before nodding. Bucky removed his hand, quickly moving it back to the handle of wheelbarrow, he looked like he was barley able to keep himself on his feet. Sam took yet another step toward him. Bucky's eyes jumped to him, clearing suddenly, icy blues locking onto him.

"Lock everything down. I told the guys at the door already. But everyone else needs to check and double everything, the doors, the windows the-" he cut off, swaying again, blinking rapidly, shaking his head like he was trying to clear it.

"The panic room. You need to... to be there." His voice trailed off, his eyes drooping, as Sam watched him sway backwards and then straighten himself up again. Sam took one more slow step.

"You- you're not... safe. Fuck." He breathed out the curse as his knees buckled. Sam tried to catch him, taking two large steps and grabbing his shirt, slowing the fall at least. Sam grimaced when he heard Bucky's knees his the floor, hard.

"Shit. Bucky! Whoa!" Wade said, sounding worried, reaching out from where he was stuck, and then grabbing the sides of the wheelbarrow, not able to get to Bucky without toppling over.

"I got him." Sam assured him, moving his arms under Bucky's, and rolling him onto his back. Helen was at his side in seconds, Sam didn't even hear her rush over. He watched her check his pulse and sigh.

"He needs blood. Can you carry him?" She asked, looking up at Sam. He looked down at Bucky, the blood on his hand bright in contrast with his pale skin.

"I think so." He said. Helen nodded and helped Sam pull him off the floor. Sam grunted as he managed to get Bucky draped over his shoulder, he was a lot heavier than he looked. Sam began following her out the door.

"Hey don't just leave me here! Somebody carry me too!" Wade's voice said behind Sam.

"Torres, help him." Sam said, not looking back, he could feel blood hitting the back of his legs, Bucky's shoulder dripping on him, as he carried the man up the stairs.

Helen opened the door to one of the spare rooms and cleared the bed, tossing throw pillows onto the floor and helping Sam lay Bucky on it.

"You need to get to the panic room. I can take care of this." She said, looking at Sam with bright eyes.

"Is he gonna be okay?" Sam asked, doing his best not wipe his bloody hands on his thighs. She looked at Bucky, and sighed again.

"He'll be fine. He always is." She frowned and looked back to Sam.

"No go. Take Torres with you. Once he's done helping Wade." She patted his arm, and walked out of the room. Torres stumbled in a few moments later, Wade's good arm drapped over his shoulder as he hopped next to him.

"I can see you trying not to laugh you know!" Wade said, poking at Torres with a finger on his too small arm. Torres snorted and helped lower Wade into the chair in the corner of the room.

"Sorry." Torres said, stepping away from him.

Wade shrugged, looking up at him, giving him a thumbs up for the help.

"Eey, it's okay. It's pretty fucked up. Oh goddamn it!" Wade sighed, dropping his head back.

"What?" Sam and Torres asked, in unison, Wade looked at them, the white eyes on his mask going wide again.

"Well that was adorable. Um no, I.... left my foot downstairs." He sighed, moving his palms slowly over his thighs.

"If you could have someone just pop that in the freezer.... I will... deal with that later." Wade said, and Sam could hear the akward smile on his face.

"That's disgusting." Torres breathed, but Sam could see him almost smiling.

"Go...do that. And then meet me in the panic room." Sam said, Torres nodded and walked back out the door. Helen walked back in as he disappeared from view.

"Still here." She admonished, frowning at him before getting to work on Bucky, Sam watched her begin to cut his shirt off and moved his attention back to Wade.

"Do you need anything?" He asked. Sam watched Wade pat at himself dramatically, humming to himself, before looking at Sam with wide eyes.

"Nope! I'm good! You go. I'll stay and harass the doc as she works." Sam looked at Helen, saw her smile as she worked and looked back to Wade again.

"If you need anything just ask. I'll let them know to get it for you." Sam said, stepping toward the door, he paused, narrowing his eyes at Wade. He'd heard all sorts of... odd, things about him.

"Within reason." He says, pointing at Wade. Wade cocked his head to the side.

"Oh you're fun. I like you." He said, before nodding and shooing Sam away. Sam let his eyes fall to Bucky, his shirt and pants now gone, his socks and boots in a small pile on the floor, his arm and leg both covered in blood again. Helen was pushing a needle into his arm, the blood he desperately needed hanging from the headboard on a makeshift IV set up. Sam pulled his eyes away and walked out the door.

~

"Who's after you now?" Torres asked, closing the heavy door on the panic room with a grunt. It was a nice room, larger than most panic rooms, Sam would guess, he'd never been in one. There was a couch shoved into the corner, and a small refrigerator full of water in the one opposite. The wall across from the couch was covered in screens, one for each camera in the house. Sam leaned agaisnt the wall and rubbed at his eyes.

"I don't know. He didn't say." Sam sighed, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes hard before dropping them at his sides. He was so fucking tired. He just wanted to sleep. Maybe run away. Go somewhere no one would ever find him and just let the other families have what they fucking wanted. But he couldn't do that. He didn't want to do that. Not really. It was all just too much.

"He'll be okay right?" Torres asks, his voice quiet. Sam looks at him, he looks worried, his lip pulled between his teeth.

"Helen said he'd be fine." Sam reassured him. Torres nodded, his eyes moving to the wall of screens, Sam moved his eyes too, watching as his people moved through the house, locking it down.

"Feels weird. Being in here when they're all out there." Torres said.

"I don't like it either." Sam said, walking over to the couch and throwing himself onto it with a sigh.

"You should get some rest sir."

"Torres." Sam said, his tone a warning.

"Sorry. Sam. But you should. While you can." He said, Sam looked at him.

"Come sit down kid. You should rest too. The couch is plenty big enough." Sam said, laying his head back, letting his eyes fall closed as he felt Torres sit down at the other end.

"It is kind of a freakishly long couch isn't it?" Torres asked after a moment, Sam rolled his head to the side, seeing Torres moving his hand over the cushion next to him, wiggling in his seat to get comfortable. Sam snorted, and then full on laughed, his exhaustion catching up to him. Torres was quiet for a moment and then they were both laughing, Sam wiping at his face as his eyes watered. He heard Torres hiccup as they both calmed, and smiled as they settled into comfortable silence, watching the screens on the wall.

~

Sam couldn't take it. It had been almost eight hours. He'd slept off and on, but nothing substantial, always jerking awake when he was finally falling deeper. Torres had been sound asleep for almost an hour now. Sam watched him for a moment, his chest rising and falling slowly, and then pushed himself off the couch. He was careful not to wake the kid, stepping towards the door slowly. He punched in the code, pushed the door open slowly, just enough for him to slip out, and headed back up stairs.

He ran into Helen and Maria, both of them sitting outside the bar, Helen's head resting on Maria's shoulder.

"You're not-"

"Supposed to be out here. I know I know." Sam said, waving his hand and smiling at them. He stopped a few steps up the stairs and looked down at them.

"How is he?" He asked, trying to keep his voice even. His thoughts over the last eight hours had been full of blood and pale skin.

"He's okay. His heartrate's back to normal. And he's healing." Helen said, breathing deeply, Sam could see her fighting a yawn.

"Thank you." He said, nodding and moving up the stairs. He stays in the doorway, leans against the frame, doesn't go fulling into the room. Wade is slumped in the chair in the corner, both his arm and foot seem to have grown back, he says nothing as Sam stands there, so he assumes he's asleep. It's hard to tell with the mask, though it's been pulled up off his mouth, like he'd been talking to someone.

Bucky is on the bed, still unconscious. His flesh hand is resting on his stomach, drawing Sam's attention to just how skinny he is. There's muscle there, sure, but Sam can see his ribs more clearly than he should be able to. And his stomach, under his hand, is sunken in ever so slightly. Sam blinks, not looking away, and idly wonders how often he eats. Not enough, would be Sam's guess.

He moves his eyes, to Bucky's leg, the skin there is red, and Sam can see bruises clearly left by someone's fingers. He furrows his brow and sighs, moving his eyes up to Bucky's face, crossing his arms over his chest as he stares. He looks peaceful, not at all like the smartass Sam knows is lurking just beneath the surface. Sam's heart skips a beat when Bucky's brow furrows, he groans, his fingers pressing into his stomach as he moves and then settles again.

Sam takes a deep breath. His heart fluttering in chest as he finally looks away. He notices too late that the mouth under Wade's mask is smiling.

He nearly jerks to attention but schools himself and stays still, moving his eyes fully to Wade. He has his phone in his hand agaisnt his thigh, but he's smiling at Sam.

"Hey." Sam says awkwardly, not really sure what else to say. He knows he's been caught, but he's not going to admit it. Wade smiles and nods at him.

"Hey yourself." He says, tilting his head to the side.

"So you're a Wilson too huh?" Wade asks, looking at him. Sam isn't sure he likes the mask, he can't tell what this guy is thinking, or aiming for, he clears his throat and nods, deciding that's probably the point of the mask.

"Maybe he's collecting us." Wade says, joking, that much Sam can tell.

"What?" Sam asks, his fingers digging into his arm as he looks to Bucky, he's still asleep.

"Relax. I'm just fuckin with ya." Wade says, moving his eyes to his phone. He scratches at his chin and sighs. Sam watches him look at Bucky, sees his shoulders slump, and watches him stand.

"Listen, I gotta go. I have... something I gotta do. Just tell him it's about my F-word, he'll understand." Wade says, walking to the bed, he leans down and presses his lips to Bucky's forhead gently, soothing over the spot with his thumb afterwards, his fingers lingering in Bucky's hair. Sam's heart picks up in his chest, he knows he should look away, that it's not polite to watch an intimate moment, but his eyes don't move. He watches Bucky sigh, his lips moving into the smallest smile before he settles again. And then Wade is next to him, following his gaze to Bucky.

"Little bastard gets under your skin doesn't he?" Wade says, like he's sharing a secret. Sam snaps his head around to look at Wade, his skin feeling hot as the man looks, he thinks, at him.

"I don't know what you mean." Sam says, and he really wants to believe it. Wade laughs then, and steps through the door, patting Sam's shoulder as he goes.

"You will." He says, smiling at Sam one last time before pulling his mask down over his mouth. Sam watches him as he walks down the stairs. Watches him give a sarcastic salute to the men at the doors as they open them for him. And then he watches them lock them back up again, effectively trapping everyone inside. Sam sighs, rubs at his shoulder where Wade had touched him, and then turns back to Bucky. He's still sleeping. Still calm. And still slightly covered in blood.

He watches him sleep for another moment and then goes back down stairs. He sighs and walks back to the panic room. He glares at the door, hating it, and slides through. Torres is still alseep on the couch, small snores now echoing through the small room. Sam pulls the door shut, punches in the code, and smiles when Torres startles awake with flail.

~

He's in the kitchen, it's nearly midnight. He slowly places a thick slice of ham onto the sandwich he's crafting. He hears someone take a sharp breath in the hall outside and turns just in time to see Bucky slowly push the kitchen swinging door open. He pauses when he sees Sam, for the briefest moment, if Sam hadn't been looking at him he'd have missed it, and then makes his way to fridge. Sam watches him open it, grab a bottle of water, and close it again. He glances at Sam before shuffling over to the island, wiggling carefully onto one of the stools there.

Sam watches him take a long drink of water, his eyes moving away from Bucky's thoat and noticing the clothes he's wearing. He'd noticed the baggy sweat pants when he'd walked in, but now Sam's eyes were glued to the shirt that was much too big for him. Sam's shirt.

"Is that my shirt?" Sam asked, trying not to sound as breathless as he felt, and ending up sounding angery. Bucky widened his eyes and looked down at himself. He moved his eyes slowly back to Sam, and Sam still couldn't tell what he was thinking, and shrugged.

"Dunno. Helen brought it to me." He said, his voice quiet as he tugged at the front of the baggy shirt, looking down at it again. Sam nodded and didn't say anything else. He laid a slice of turkey over the ham on his bread, carefully arranging it. He could feel Bucky's eyes on him.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" He asks, knowing he sounds annoyed.

"Shouldn't you be in the panic room? Like I told you?" Bucky bites back, Sam snaps his head up to look at him and finds Bucky staring down at the bottle in his hands, the sleeves of Sam's shirt so long they cover his knuckles. Sam hums and says nothing.

"You're not a very good listener, are you Sam?" Bucky asks, Sam glances at him, sees Bucky smiling at his water bottle and ignores him. He peels two slices of cheese away from the little stack and places them just so.

"I'm just trying to keep you safe. It's not- it's not a punishment." Bucky says, stammering over his words a bit before sighing. Sam looks at him and sees his brow is furrowed, he still isn't looking at Sam, his thumb picking at the lable of the bottle in his hands.

"I've been in there all day. I just needed a break. And something to eat that isn't stale beef jerky." Sam says, sighing, not sure why he's explaining himself. Bucky looks at him then, the wrinkle in his brow fading a bit before he nods, once. Sam watches his eyes drop to his plate, and then watches him swallow and lick his lips before looking away again.

Sam frowns down at his sandwich as he places the top slice. His fingers itch, he flexes them at his side and then grabs the knife he'd used for the mayo. He places his palm on the sandwich and cuts it neatly down the middle. He leans back, grabs another plate from the cabinet behind him and places half the sandwich on it. He slides it across the island slowly, until it's sitting in front of Bucky. He almost laughs at the look on Bucky's face. His eyes wide and child like as he looks from the sandwich to Sam.

"Go on. You should eat something." Sam says, shoving his own sandwich into his mouth to take a bite. Hoping he wouldn't say anything stupid if his mouth was full of food.

He watches Bucky pick up his half slowly. He closes his eyes as he takes a large bite, Sam hears him hum as he sets the sandwhich down, wiping at his mouth with his hand as he chews, nodding, his eyes still closed. Sam smiles and quickly takes another bite. Bucky's sandwich is gone before Sam is done with half of his. He feels a pressure under his ribs and pushes it away as he watches Bucky hum and swallow his last bite.

"Thanks." He says, clearing his thoat and picking at the crumbs on his plate.

"Sure." Sam says, he feels awkward, doesn't know why.

"Is that bread from Jimmy's?" Bucky asks, breaking Sam out of his thoughts.

"Yeah. Maria brought it back when she went to check on him." Sam said, taking another small bite. Bucky nods and rests his cheek on his knuckles.

"Thought so. He makes the best fucking bread. Like, it just melts in your mouth, but it's still fluffy and dense." Sam watches Bucky shake his head, like Jimmy's bread is a marvel to him. And Sam agrees, his bread is the best, but he wasn't going to say that. Bucky looks at him and his brow furrows again, Sam swallows very carefully, taking care not to choke as Bucky's eyes bore into him.

"Is he okay? Why was Maria checking on him?" Bucky asks, and Sam will give him one thing, he does sound genuinely concerned.

"He's alright. Being threatened, like all the other businesses. We gave him some extra security. He's okay. For now." Sam explained, and then sighed, shoving the last bite of his sandwich in his mouth. He rubbed at his eyes, he could feel Bucky watching him. He hears him take a deep breath and let it out.

"Wade told me to tell you he had something to do for his F-word, said you know what that meant." Sam said, cutting off anything Bucky might have been about to say, when he drops his hands Bucky is staring at him, his features soft. He licks his lips and nods.

"Did he leave recently?" Bucky asks, and Sam's greatful he took the change of subject.

"Little after noon." Sam says, reaching across the island toward Bucky's plate, nodding at him when he pushed it forward for Sam. Bucky nods and doesn't say anything else. Sam cleans the plates and puts them away. He looks at the sandwich ingredients on the island, almost asks if Bucky wants another one, but decides against it and cleans those up too. Once the island is clean he just stands there, once again feeling odd in his own kitchen as Bucky watches him. He sees Bucky lay his palms flat against the marble and hears him take a breath.

"So these people-"

"Not now." Sam cuts him off, stares at Bucky as he frowns back at him, daring him to argue.

"We both need sleep." Sam says, sighing, his shoulders drooping in exhaustion. Bucky doesn't argue, Sam can see that he wants too, he can see that glint in his eyes. Though the longer Sam holds his gaze the less sure he is about what the glint means.

"Okay. Tomorrow." Bucky says, his eyes still staring.

"Tomorrow." Sam agrees, and walks toward the door slowly. He stops with his hand on it, pushing it open a bit, and turns back to Bucky, his eyes go wide again, waiting.

"Your friend... left his foot in our freezer. Might wanna get that back to him." Sam says and walks out the door. The corner of his mouth twitching as he hears Bucky laugh behind him.

[slowlydrowningme]

Under the Bright but Faded Lights

Title: Under the Bright but Faded Lights

Rating: T

Word Count: 1546

Warnings: Description of kidnapping and injury, minor mentions of blood and violence

Pairing: Damian x fem!reader

Prompt:  18 and 22 for Damian Wayne x fem reader (Pinterest prompt lost #1) please! 

“You are weak with love for her.”

Notes: Apparently I have issues writing fics that are mostly the requested pair.  I don’t know how this turned into what it did, but there it is.  Fun fact: I started this fic three different ways before I settled on this one.  Good times.

Tags: @this-is-what-makes-us-fandoms

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Things are fuzzy when you come back to your senses slowly.  The pain in your head isn’t surprising and neither is the wet, sticky feeling on the side of your head.  The cold is seeping into your skin through the material of your jeans where you’re sitting on the damp concrete, hands pulled above your head secured with chains if the clinking noise is anything to go by.  Your shoulders are sore and your ribs ache with each breath, but other than that you seem to be relatively unharmed.  The pounding headache was by far the worst part.

And it was made worse when you finally decided to open your eyes.

“Y/N…thank god.”

“Di-Nightwing?”  You can barely make out he outline of the man sitting across from you, but the voice and color scheme are unmistakable. “What happened?”

“What do you remember?” Blinking your vision clear, you try to remember the events leading up to that shadow appearing in your bedroom.

“Dinner with a friend,” you say in leu of saying Damian’s name because you don’t know who has you and what they know.  “A movie and then a walk home.”  It had been Damian’s night off and he had decided to take you on one of the most cliché dates ever because Dick had recommended it and you had found it amusing. He would do anything to see that lovesick smile on your face and the whole family (and you) knew it.

“Where did he grab you?”

“He?”

“Deathstroke.”  Well, damn.  “Where were you?”

“At home.  I had been there about ten minutes.”  The lenses of Nightwing’s mask closed and you knew he had drawn the same conclusion.  Long enough that Damian would have been well on his way home.  “But…I never sent the text.”

The text that you sent every night before slipping into bed and drifting off for the night.  The text that would be replied to immediately if Robin wasn’t patrolling.  The text that you would see the reply to when you woke up the next morning if he was. The text that was sent because you had once told Damian how your mother said her biggest regret was not getting the chance to tell your father she loved him one last time before he died in the car accident when you were ten.

“He’ll notice then.”

“Yeah,” you breath out, blinking slowly as your head starts to fog up again.  “How long have we been here?”

“Me, a couple of hours. You, maybe an hour tops.”  Damian would have definitely figured something out by now.  Whether he had figured it was foul play was still up in the air.

“Hey, N?”  You struggled to keep the slur out of your voice, but the startled look on his face told you that you had failed.  “I’m going to pass out again now.”

“Hey, no!  Y/N?!  You need to stay awake!”  Nightwing called out, but he already sounded like you were listening from underwater, so you knew it was a pointless cause at this point.

The next time you came to, you are still chained up but there’s the distinct sound of fighting in the room with you.  A gun shot going off pulls you out more quickly than the previous time.

“You should have killed me when you had the chance, kid,” the deep voice of Deathstroke, aka Slade Wilson, draws your attention to where he and Robin are engaged in a fight.  A quick glance reveals Nightwing is almost out of his manacles, tossing worried looks between the fighting pair and you.

“Y/N!”  Nightwing relaxes slightly in the shoulders when he notices your eyes are open again.  But that is short lived when another gun shot goes off and something sharp hits your cheek.  You flinch and gasp when the pain in your arms is brought back to your attention.  

You’re aware you haven’t been shot, but you definitely took some kind of shrapnel to the cheek and it stings. But it just serves to remind you of all the other aches and pains that have only gotten worse since your last bout of consciousness.

“Ow,” you muttered, blinking back the bite of tears.

“Jesus,” Nightwing swears, doubling his efforts to get out of his restraints.  It’s a moment later that both of his arms are falling to his sides and he’s crawling over to where you’re slouched.  But your eyes are on Robin and Deathstroke.  You had seen Damian fight plenty of times and every time you’re able to marvel at the terrifying beauty of it.  But he has a katana and Deathstroke is wielding his guns.  

“No, help him.  Help Robin,” you gasp out when Nightwing reaches up to pick the lock securing your hands above your head.

“No.  He’d never let me hear the end of it if I didn’t get you out of here first.”

“Please help him.” But you know your request is in vain because Nightwing is shaking his head and reaching above you still.  Your chest is tight with fear as you keep your eyes on Robin as he focuses on Deathstroke.

“The others are here,” Nightwing says quietly as you feel the grip around your wrists release and he’s gently guiding your arms down.  He’s careful with you, but you aren’t trained to compartmentalize the way they are and the pained cry escapes your dry, cracked lips.  There’s a flurry of movement when the others crash into the room and you flinch at the commotion before leaning into Nightwing as he shifts to protect you from what’s happening on the other side of the warehouse.  

“Get her out of here,” comes a growl that is sadly all too familiar these days and just, how did knowing Batman’s voice become your norm?  “Nightwing, now!”  The order is clear and Nightwing tenses with it but doesn’t argue.  Instead, he loops an arm under your legs and around your back, lifting you easily as he stood.  

“Leslie is waiting at the Cave.  Take mine.” Red Hood shoots Nightwing a glance over his shoulder before taking a shot at Deathstroke.  

You want to argue. You want to fight them all to get to Robin and make sure he’s okay, but the fog is coming back and you’re not certain how much longer you’ll be able to hang on.  But you fight it because Hood’s ride is a motorcycle and you’ll need to hang on for the ride to the Cave.

Thankfully, Nightwing seems to know you’ve only got a little bit left in you and straps you onto his back before you’re flying a breakneck speed to the hidden entrance.  But you’re out again before you enter and when you come back to the world, you’re laying on a bed in the med bay of the Cave and Damian is sitting next to you.  You hand, that doesn’t have an IV attached to it, is held tightly between both of his, his lips pressed to your knuckles as he watches you blink awake.  There’s no hiding the fear in his eyes, or the relief at seeing you awake, so you give him your best shot at a smile.

“Hey,” your voice is rough and you can guess that you’ve probably been out for a fair amount of time given the texture of it.

“Thank gods you’re all right,” he whispers in response, leaning forward and kissing your forehead. You close your eyes and hum in response. “I was so worried.  When you never sent the text,” he explained, leaning back to sit down again.  He kept his grip tight on your hand, placing his lips back to your knuckles.

“Slade?”

The darkened expression tells you all you need to know.  Escaped.

“What did he want?”  There had been no exchange between the two of you other than the butt of his gun connecting to the side of your head, so you couldn’t be certain outside of your connection to Robin.

“To make a point.  He failed.”

“He was never going to kill me or Dick, was he?”  Damian let out a snort and shook his head.

“No, he’s too fond of Grayson.  It’s disturbing.  I think he only takes him to prove he still can,” and wasn’t that disturbing.  But you were still glad that Damian’s oldest brother had been there to keep you calm and watch out for you.

“Dami?  What point was he trying to make?”  The question is quiet, and you’re worried about the answer, but you also know you need to hear it.

“You’re weak with love for her,” Slade ground out as he blocked a blow from Damian, throwing one of his own that was easily blocked by the other man.  “Your grandfather would be disgusted with how weak you are.”

“You are wrong.  I’m strong because of my love for her.  For all of them.  That is where my grandfather was wrong.”

“It doesn’t matter. He was wrong.”  The smile he gives you is enough to put out the fire of fear in your belly and when he releases your hand to place his hands on either side of your face so he can press his lips to yours sooths the remaining doubts.

“I love you, My Prince.”

“And I you, Beloved.”

[humangods]

Marlow/Severin: ▲

@kimsgoeun

▲ Five times my muse thought about kissing yours, and the one time they did

I.  I HAVE TO SAVE YOU

Marlow brushes herself off after Severin once again drops her unceremoniously onto the ground. Severin lands a few meters away and brushes some hair out of their face then watch Marlow for a minute with their arms crossed against their chest.

“You know, I’m not going to save you every time you land yourself in danger.”

“Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do? Aren’t you an angel?” Marlow shoots back, nodding towards the halo above Severin’s head.

If she’d stopped there, if she hadn’t pointed out what they were, Severin would’ve shrugged it off. Instead they clenched their jaw and could feel the anger rising in their chest, their hands curled into fists. With a single flap of their wings, Severin lands before Marlow only a few inches apart.

“Don’t mistake what I am with what I’m supposed to do,” they snarl. “Humans have twisted the meaning of being an angel into something it isn’t -- something it never was.”

It’s only when they’re up close to Marlow that they realize she’s rather easy on the eyes. They stare for a second too long and Marlow notices with a wary expression.

“What?”

For the briefest moment, Severin wonders what it might be like to kiss her. Just out of sheer curiosity.

“Your kind are so fragile and misguided,” they scoff before taking to the sky and leaving Marlow standing there.

II. I WILL SAVE YOU

Severin finally begins to accept that maybe Marlow is more intriguing than they had thought. And maybe, just maybe, they're more drawn to her in a way they haven't felt towards someone in a long time. They know what this unfortunately is -- attraction -- but they don't like it. Severin only concedes after resisting the nagging feeling of wanting to be around Marlow more when for what must be at least the third time they find themselves taking in the sight of Marlow with an easy smirk while she is preoccupied going on a tirade about... Severin isn't certain, but they know it's a safe bet to assume it's something that's being blamed on them as their fault. In Marlow's defense there was at least a fifty percent chance that it is.

"Are you listening to me?"

Severin's attention snaps back to the present moment with a blink.

"Of course, Princess." They respond with a husky laugh.

Princess. It's a nickname Severn has assigned to Marlow at some point in time that they can't quite remember, but they know it irks Marlow and was enough of a reason for them to continue using it. Or so that was the case in the beginning, but now? There’s something more to the nickname that they can’t quite place. Something akin to endearment, perhaps, but they’d rather not consider that possibility too much.

Marlow rolls her eyes. “No you weren’t.”

“No, I wasn’t,” Severin echoes with a grin. “I was thinking.”

“About what?”

Severin’s smile only widens as she watches a frown crease Marlow’s brow. They don’t answer and it leads to Marlow crossing the room to stand directly before them. Severin holds her gaze, unflinching.

“Severin.” She draws out the name with a dangerous lilt.

They lean in, amused. Only a little, just enough to bring themselves closer in height, which they notice vexes Marlow even more from the irritation that flashes across her face. “Marlow.”

She huffs. “What were you thinking of that was so important that you completely ignored what I said?”

Severin leans in further. “None of your concern, Princess,” they whisper against Marlow’s ear. They very nearly turn their head to kiss her cheek, but Severin stops themselves and brushes past Marlow with a satisfied smirk.

III. I WANT TO SAVE YOU

They land on the rooftop with a dull thud of their feet hitting the concrete. Gusts of wind rush past tousling Severin’s short hair and ruffles the feathers of their wings. Wearing nothing more than a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, they shiver. It’s the highest building they could find in the city and they take in the view of the skyline with a weary sigh. The stars twinkle in the inky black sky and they scowl at the moon. The ring of light around it reminds Severin of a halo and it makes them recoil and turn their back to it. Lighting a cigarette they take a seat and lean against a vent. The cold metal is a shock to their skin, but Severin pays it no mind as they take a long drag and exhale a stream of smoke. They hunch over, one arm resting against their knee and holding the cigarette between two fingers while their other arm rests at their side.

They wonder what God is thinking of them -- if God is thinking of them at all. The thought angers them. Why should they care what They think after what They did to them? Severin grumbles and takes another drag.

The rooftop door opens and slams shut and someone approaches.

“Is this where you’ve been hiding?”

A familiar voice cuts through the rare moment of tranquility.

“I wasn’t hiding,” Severin answers without turning around.

Marlow waves some of the exhaled smoke away that blows in her direction from the wind.

“So what are you doing up here?”

Severin inhales deeply until the cigarette burns down to the butt. They grind it into the concrete then turn to face Marlow, finally.

“Nothing. I was bored.”

Marlow shoots them a skeptical look. “When you’re bored you cause mayhem. Or were you waiting for me to be in danger?”

“I needed a break, I’m old. Don’t you know not to bother your elders?”

She nearly barks out a laugh at Severin’s statement. It’s easy for them both to forget that Severin is an ancient being and not the age they appear to me. She also knows Severin can’t be serious.

Marlow opens her mouth to say more, but something catches her attention and says nothing. Her already noticed Severin’s wings were out, but she finally observes what she first dismissed as a trick of the night. They shouldn’t be this dark.

“Your wings-” she begins.

Severin interjects. “You’re cute in the moonlight.”

“Are they-”

They’re on their feet before Marlow can finish her question and brings their face to hers, but stops short right before they meet in a kiss. This causes Marlow to stop mid-sentence. Severin smiles, but it doesn’t reach their eyes. They know how the inquiry ends and they don’t want to hear it.

“What would you do if I kissed you?”

“Wh-what?” Marlow does her best not to show that she’s been caught off guard, but the slight stutter gives her away. Her eyes dart up to the space above Severin’s head. There’s no ring of light there, but she doesn’t get time to process what this means because Severin notices too and breaks Marlow’s train of thought.

“Just kidding!” Severin grins and sprints towards the ledge of the roof and leaps off.

“Hey! You can’t leave me up here!” Marlow shouts after them, whatever question she was going to ask now forgotten.

Severin makes loops around and lifts Marlow up into their arms. “Don’t worry, Princess, I’d never forget about you,” they reassure with a wink.

IV. I TRY TO SAVE YOU

The feeling happens again: a faint tug, like one magnet feeling the pull of another, but it’s weaker than it used to be. It’s like a light pull on a piece of string and no longer the aching feeling that it once was in their chest when they still had white wings. Severin ignores it, as they’ve gotten into the habit of doing, and instead returns to their task of cleaning a gun while taking occasional puffs on a cigarette that hangs loosely between her lips. The gun is more of a decorative thing than something they need, their own blood serves as just a good of a weapon if not better than something humans created when it can be molded into whatever they need. Preferably some kind of projectile. They don’t know if this is a gift from God or an ability that manifested on its own outside of Their control, but if it’s the former then Severin finds it an ironic gift that’s like a knife being twisted in their gut.

The invisible tug happens again, but a little stronger, interrupting their thoughts. It’s never as strong as it used to be, it means their connection is weakening. Maybe it’s an indication they’re being released from whatever involuntary bond they have to Marlow is fading. Severin used to long for this moment and always expected to feel relieved when it did, but instead they find themselves feeling uneasy. Dropping the cigarette into an ashtray they get up with a screech of the chair against the floor and holster the gun. They let out something between a groan and a sigh, raking their hands through their hair, as they ready themselves. At least whatever it is that awaits them wherever it is they may go there will be some action, or so they hope. A fight is always a perfect way to burn off stress and it serves as a decent enough distraction from their own thoughts.

Severin weaves between the tall buildings using the invisible tugging as a compass to guide them to where Marlow surely is. They ready themselves for a fight when they spot her, but she’s alone. Maybe it’s nothing as serious as they expected, but the tugging feeling thrums in their chest like the beating of a hummingbird’s wings.

“Incoming!” Severin calls out in warning a second before they swoop down and lift Marlow up.

“Ow, something’s digging into my back,” Marlow complains as she holds onto Severin.

A mischievous smile stretches across Severin’s lips. “Maybe I’m just excited to see you.”

“That doesn’t work when you’re not standing,” she points out with a roll of her eyes. “But seriously, what is it?”

“You should be more careful. I may not always be able to save you every time.” They smirk to cushion the seriousness of their words.

Marlow looks up at Severin with a quizzical expression. “What do you mean? You always rush in. At the last second, but you still do.”

They give a noncommittal sound. “Never mind, don’t worry your pretty little head over it, Princess.”

“Worry about what?”

Severin lands in a secluded area of a park behind some trees and Marlow’s question goes unanswered. It’s a trend she surely notices every time Severin doesn’t want to talk about something.

“I’ll file them down, but I thought they looked kind of neat.”

They hold up a hand for Marlow to see, already changing the subject before Marlow has a chance to press for more details about what they’d meant. Small talons grow out where their usual short fingernails had once been and the skin is a jet black that fades into their own skin color at the base of each finger.

Marlow raises her brow. “What the- What’s happening to you?”

The lazy smile leaves Severin’s features and her brow knits into a frown. An uncommon expression for them, and they can see Marlow tense ever so slightly at the chance in their demeanor. This time they don’t try to immediately deflect or, quite literally, run away.

“I think you already know. You knew from the moment you saw me on the rooftop that night.”

“You’re not… An angel anymore?”

“It doesn’t matter, okay? I’m still here for now to bail you out,” they add in a mock-purr in an attempt to change the mood of the conversation. “Like right now, for instance. You know, though, I think I should get something for saving you all the time.”

Marlow heaves an annoyed sigh and grumbles, “And what do you want?”

Severin leans in with a wicked smile then puckers her lips.

Marlow holds up her hand and pushes Severin away from her. “You’re incorrigible.”

They laugh as they step away from her. “Worth a shot!”

“You weren’t even being serious,” Marlow counters. “And you never answered my questions.”

Severin only winks back in response as they turn to go now that the pull in their chest they were feeling earlier has since disappeared.

“You can find your own way to wherever you were going, right?” They call over their shoulder, already turning to leave.

But Severin doesn’t wait for an answer before taking off.

V. I DON’T KNOW HOW TO SAVE YOU

Gripping their head, Severin doubles over in pain. It’s the worst headache they’ve ever felt and truly the epitome of “skull-splitting”. What they didn’t expect was that indeed their skull was changing. Two horns curve out of from the sides of Severin’s head. It looks like a halo -- almost -- except broken off causing the two ends of the horns to taper off into points.

The timing is inconvenient to say the least, but it also serves as a distraction to the gunmen they were in the midst of fighting. Purely for entertainment reasons as is most often the case.

Severin sinks to their knees with a groan. The pain in their head continues to pulsate and there’s a sheen of sweat on their forehead, but there’s no time to rest. The gunmen take take this as an opportunity to move in for the attack.

Raising their gun, Severin pulls the trigger. Nothing happens but a feeble click. Already furious with their transformation and all the fun from the situation prior having dissipated, they hurl the empty gun at one of the gunmen charging at them. It hits her square in the forehead and causes her to stagger back several steps as she lets out a slew of curses.

There’s still the rest to deal with, however. Severin does what they do best and, using the claws protruding from their fingers, they run the sharp ends down their arm. Even now it’s not any less painful than it used to be. Blood seeps out, but it doesn’t hit the ground. It stops just before that moment and hovers, suspended in the air, as Severin begins to bend and shape it to their will and let it rain down on the gunmen as piercing javelins. It’s a morbid power, one that they enjoy using to watch the horror etched onto her opponents’ faces yet also one they take care in not using often around Marlow. They don’t need Marlow to see them as some kind of freak show, not that they’re too concerned about it. Not completely. But it is still a rather gruesome ability and does cause more of a mess than they’re certain Marlow would prefer to deal with.

They aren’t certain whether it’s because she crossed their mind or if it’s whatever inexplicable bond they share, but there’s a feeling of anxiety that starts to nag at the back of their head. Severin decides it’s nothing and shifts their attention to the fight once more. The people drop one after the other and there’s nothing more for Severin to do. They never did bother to clean up the carnage left behind and they aren’t about to start now. Taking a few slow steps forward, glass crunches beneath their shoes. They pause when they find a big enough shard and pick it up.

Staring at their reflection Severin grimaces. They knew this was going to happen, dared it to happen, and yet also hate that it has. They grip the glass a little too tightly and it cuts into their palm as they let out a sharp hiss. It shatters when Severin hurls it to the ground and spins on their heel to leave, the flesh on their hand already slowly stitching itself together.

Despite the fight being over, the anxiety remains. They don’t know what it means as they’ve never been one to feel anxious over much, certainly not where Marlow is concerned, but even as they fly out away from the bloody scene they can’t shake the feeling that something is maybe wrong. They don’t know where Marlow is and there’s no internal compass to guide them to her like there used to be. The more they try and focus on the anxiety the less sure Severin becomes in where to search for her. They let out an aggravated shout that is lost on the wind as they soar through the sky. They feel panic -- or something similar -- rise. They aren’t quite sure what the unpleasant feeling is that makes their throat constrict and breathing feel like a chore. I’d kill for a smoke, they think.

Flying aimlessly isn’t going to get them to wherever Marlow is, that much they know, so they land in the middle of the sidewalk much to the irritation of other pedestrians who trip and stumble out of their way trying not to knock into one of their black wings. Some stare at the horns, but only for a split second as a deadly glare from Severin makes them scurry off again. Severin lights a cigarette and stomps down the sidewalk with people steering clear of them.

“Where the fuck are you?” They growl, fingers raking through and tugging at the short hair.

They come to a stop at an intersection and close their eyes. Scrubbing their face with their hands they wrack their brain, but it’s only when they take a deep breath that a place comes to mind. Severin isn’t sure why or how, maybe intuition, but it doesn’t matter. They squash the cigarette butt under their shoe and take to the sky once more, but with more haste.

Soon they find Marlow and she’s indeed in danger. There’s a gun pointed at her and she stands rigid on the spot. Once more Severin winces and uses their talons to force themselves to bleed. Once more a crimson javelin whizzes down and pierces its target milliseconds before the gun is fired with a bang. The shot goes wide and Severin lets out a silent breath of relief.

“You’re welcome, Princess” They call out as they land beside her with a nonchalant grin and arm already in the process of healing.

Marlow doesn’t make a witty comeback, she’s too busy staring at Severin.

They see the corner of her mouth twitch, like she’s about to speak, and Severin brings her lips to Marlow’s. Nearly.

“Don’t,” they breathe out, and anything Marlow was going to say is swallowed down.

Severin stays there considering the possibilities of should they or should they not. They’ve never kissed her, but they’ve come close to it and even more frequently as of late. It’s always proven to be a good tactic to make Marlow stop short of whatever she’s about to do, but Severin knows that part of them wants to. It’s no longer innocent curiosity, but that’s also reason enough to make Severin replace the distance between them both.

V. I CAN’T SAVE YOU

Severin never bothers to dig up too many details about Marlow’s father’s business as it’s never been something they cared much about. What they do care about is successfully getting on Marlow’s nerves at least a few times a day. They do love the way Marlow’s nose crinkles when she frowns at them and how her eyes always follow them in a room full of people. Although Marlow’s safety does also come to be of importance to them as well. It wasn’t always the case, but Severin finds their thoughts filled with Marlow more as well. It’s always little, mundane things too like what is she doing in that moment, but sometimes Severin wonders if she’s growing weary of their presence too. If that’s the case Marlow hasn’t explicitly stated such. It’s strange, Severin thinks, because they had always only thought of themselves first and foremost. Everything they did was for their own gain or amusement without a thought with regards to anyone else their actions may affect.

They tilt their head back to rest against the coolness of the wall and stare skyward, inhaling on the cigarette between their fingers to try and take the edge off of the tension they feel. Rooftops seem to be where they spend a lot of their time as of late. They like the height and the quiet from the bustling streets below. It also reminds them of being in Heaven, but their placid expression changes into a scowl at that.

“Fuck that place,” they growl out and close their eyes, pressing their plans to the roughness of the concrete like the tension in their body would be absorbed by it. It isn’t, and the feeling only grows.

They press their palms against the rough surface of the concrete to try to think of other things, but their shoulders remain hunched and a deep inhale does nothing for their nerves.

There’s a vibration in their pocket and at first Severin pays it no mind, but it happens again and then again. With a grumble, they reach for their phone only to stop and realize their hands are still smeared with blood. Wiping them as best as Severin can against their pants, they fish their phone out of their pocket. Two missed calls and several text messages from Marlow. Was this the cause of the tension? They aren’t sure.

“Shit,” they curse under their breath as they scan the messages.

Finding a location mentioned, Severin gets to their feet and takes a final drag on the cigarette then drops it where they were sitting. Spreading black wings, they jump off the roof and weave between buildings. Soon the congested city recedes into the background and a more bleak landscape stretches before them. It’s not wholly rural, but not entirely urban either. Right on the outskirts of the city where forgotten buildings are left to decay.

Smashing through one of the windows on the roof, Severin lands and uses their wings to shield themselves from the rest of the glass raining down. They take advantage of the surprise on everyone’s faces make a quick mental note of their surroundings. There are only a few of… They aren’t sure who the suited up people are, but they know they aren’t good. Marlow sits bound and gagged to a chair and sporting a few bruises and cuts. Severin’s blood goes cold and they turn back towards their company, rage fill them. The rest of their demonic form manifests: jet black staining their skin up from fingers and fade as it reaches their shoulders, and their horns protrude from their head.

“You screwed with the wrong person..!” Severin shouts and charges at them, unloading every bullet in their gun blindly until there’s nothing left.

Bullets rip their skin as they zip by, but it works in their favor. Beads of blood morph into small bullets and tear into Severin’s opponents while they shred other with their claws. It isn’t long before Severin stands, chest heaving from heavy breaths, with bodies littered around them.

“Ah, fuck,” they mutter and pull out the pack of cigarettes in their pocket.

The package is empty and Severin crushes it in their hand and chucks it over their shoulder as they saunter back to where Marlow is. They cut through the rope with a clawed finger and straighten up, repressing their demonic appearance and leaving only their wings.

“What were you thinking coming here alone?” Severin chides.

Marlow gives them a pointed look as she peels off the duct tape. “I’m okay, thanks for asking.”

They scoff, but still give her a quick once over to make sure that she isn’t seriously injured or at least doesn’t appear to be.

“Stop throwing yourself into danger you can’t get out of, Princess” Severin glares back.

“What do you mean you can’t?”

“I just… I can’t, okay? Stop asking questions, and let’s go.”

Severin takes a step forward to pick Marlow up, but she steps back.

“You don’t get to avoid talking about things whenever you want.” Marlow’s voice rises in frustration.

An irked hiss escapes them and they fold their arms tightly against their chest. “Fine, Princess,. One question and then we go.”

“What do you mean you can’t save me? You did all those other times.”

“Because all those other times,” Severin starts, already allowing their annoyance and anger with themselves get the better of them causing their voice to rise as well. “I could feel when you were in trouble. And I could follow that feeling to wherever you were, but now I can’t, okay? Whatever it was that told me when you were in danger is gone, okay? Maybe I feel a little on edge when you are, but I can’t really tell. It’s better to assume that I can’t. You already got hurt because I didn’t know you were in danger in the first place, and if I’d showed up any later? Look, just stop taking unnecessary risks.” Severin loses steam as they go on and finish with a huff.

Marlow is stunned into silence for a minute. Their mouth begins to form the start of a sentence, but then she stops. It twists into a frown until she settles with a response.

“Isn’t that what you wanted? Didn’t you say you didn’t like having to bail me out all the time?”

A new wave of anger crashes over Severin and they can feel their blood boil.

“I never asked to be this!” They stretch out their black wings briefly to emphasize their point. “I- Sure, I didn’t like being an angel, and I know this was going to happen eventually, but…” But it meant they still had a chance to return to Heaven if they ever changed their mind and wished to try and redeem themselves. Now that chance was gone forever and whether they felt like they belonged on Earth or not no longer mattered. They were stuck there regardless. “Everything I did, Marlow, I did it for you!”

They’re shouting, but Marlow stands her ground. Severin isn’t sure if it’s a trick of the dim lighting or if they really did see her flinch a little.

“Because you had to,” she presses in a flat tone, but Severin can see it’s a facade from the uncertainty from their words in her eyes.

“Are you blind or stupid?! Because I wanted to, Marlow,” Severin corrects.

Marlow is about to open her mouth to make some further retort, but Severin reaches out and grabs a fistful of her shirt collar and yanks her closer. Their lips crash together and Marlow’s eyes widen.

“Severin-” She starts, but Severin is already turning away from her, and with a few strong flaps of their wings they fly out of the ruined building.

They know they’ll have to return to that conversation in the not-so-distant future, but for now they’d rather be anywhere but there with Marlow. Not until they’ve figured out how to put whatever it is they’re feeling into words and then be able to explain it all to her.

[ambvrs]

                𝐉𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐄   𝐀𝐘𝐃𝐈𝐍     /     𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝   𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬.

𝒃𝒖𝒊𝒍𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈   𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒈𝒆𝒔     —     @opalsmedia​     !

𝒊.   𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆   𝒘𝒆   𝒎𝒆𝒕   𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈   𝒕𝒉𝒆   𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔     ;     open  to  anyone  .

(  ♫  )     —     josephine’s  life  between  scotland  and  strathmore  is  vague  at  best,  other  than  she  moved  into  her  own  place  after  graduation  and  spent  a  year  working  in  london  before  her  first  year  at  strathmore  began  (  a  time  frame  that  puts  her  in  line  with  the  opals  first  year  /  immediately  pre  -  strathmore  prodigies  ).  a  bond  formed  from  a  chance  encounter  by  the  river’s  edge  one  summer  or  fall  evening,  two  strangers  simply  sharing  company  and  conversation  before  strathmore  or  the  society  or  life  had  the  chance  to  intervene.  one  meeting  turned  into  several,  someone  she  might  consider  one  of  her  first  friends  in  the  city  and  they  became  more  of  a  rock  in  her  life  than  she  would  ever  admit  to  them,  letting  her  forget  the  darkness  of  the  world  for  even  a  short  while.  perhaps  time,  and  strathmore  and  society  duties,  have  created  distance  between  them  that  they’re  not  sure  how  to  close.  not  in  a  bad  way,  of  course,  but  in  the  way  that  life  always  seems  to.

aesthetics  :  the  warm  glow  of  the  street  lamps  as  blue  skies  blossom  into  shades  of  flame,  shoulders  brushing  against  one  another  as  steps  fall  in  tandem,  quiet  laughter  that  melts  into  clamoring  of  the  crowd,  the  same  sense  of  ease  that  accompanies  picking  up  long  -  forgotten  novel,  secrets  shared  the  same  as  clandestine  smiles,  cobblestone  paths  that  lead  to  nowhere  in  particular,  the  twinkle  of  an  excited  gaze,  the  comforting  press  of  fingertips  into  the  crook  of  an  elbow,  a  collection  of  polaroids  tucked  away  like  perfect  memories.

𝒊𝒊.   𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒔   𝒘𝒆   𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕   ��𝒆𝒆𝒅   𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉   𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓     ;     open  to  anyone  .

(  ❤  +  ❤  +  ❤  )     —     two  people  that,  under  any  other  (  or  relatively  normal  )  circumstances,  would  certainly  not  have  considered  themselves  friends.  but  recent  circumstances  have  brought  them  closer  and  they’ve  found  a  sort  of  solace  in  one  another.  separately,  they’ve  seemed  to  function  just  fine  on  their  own,  or  they’ve  simply  done  everything  they  can  to  keep  it  all  to  themselves.  perhaps  it’s  a  slow  -  burn  friendship,  they  didn’t  like  each  other  all  too  much  starting  out  or  simply  butt  heads  over  the  most  trivial  of  things,  but  they  slowly  grow  to  lean  on  each  other  for  small  things,  figuring  there  are  worse  people  to  rely  on.  or  perhaps  it’s  been  a  friendship  that’s  been  blossoming  slowly,  both  caring  a  great  deal  about  the  other  (  even  if  they  never  really  talk  about  it  )  &  who  they  trust  to  talk  about  secrets,  feelings,  the  society,  you  name  it  without  worrying  about  repercussions  or  what  they  may  think  of  them.  two  people  that  come  to  rely  on  each  other,  one  way  or  another,  and  will  do  anything  to  help  them  succeed.  platonic  twin  flames  who  know  each  other  almost  as  well  as,  if  not  better,  than  they  know  themselves.

aesthetics  :  pinky  promises  shared  in  an  empty  room,  waiting  with  baited  breath  as  quiet  confessions  are  offered,  hesitant  smiles,  hours  of  long  conversation  that  slip  into  comfortable  silence,  trusting  someone  to  keep  a  secret  you  would’ve  taken  to  the  grave,  arms  embraced  in  a  hug  that  borders  on  almost  too  tight,  a  knock  on  your  bedroom  door  at  two  am,  long  night  drives  with  no  destination  in  mind,  shared  blankets  under  a  starry  sky.

𝒊𝒊𝒊.   𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕   𝒕𝒐𝒐   𝒔𝒐𝒇𝒕   𝒇𝒐𝒓   𝒄𝒓𝒖𝒆𝒍   𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔     ;     open  to  anyone  .

(  ✧  /  reversed  )     —     josephine  is  truly  soft  -  hearted,  down  to  her  very  core,  and  is  often  far  too  kind  and  compassionate  for  her  own  good.  she  chooses  to  see  the  best  in  people,  even  if  it’s  not  always  there.  that  being  said,  they  aren’t  being  friendly  just  for  the  sake  of  being  friendly  and  whatever  sort  of  ‘  friendship  ‘  they  have  is  formed  for  the  sake  this  person’s  own  gain,  be  it  academically,  as  a  bit  of  romantic  payback,  or  even  because  they  feel  she  can  benefit  their  growth  in  the  society.  there’s  a  lot  of  room  for  creative  liberties  here  (  and  plenty  of  angst,  if  we  wanted  ),  but  i  think  it  would  do  her  some  good  to  face  the  truth  behind  typical  rose  -  colored  glasses,  even  if  she’s  completely  oblivious  to  it  for  now,  for  a  while  ?  forever  ?  perhaps  she  knows  but  will  simply  pretend  she  does  not  see  because  she’d  rather  live  in  the  illusion  than  face  the  truth.

aesthetics  :  smiles  that  do  not  quite  reach  the  eyes,  lies  veiled  beneath  honeyed  tones,  the  steady  rapping  of  raindrops  on  window  panes,  gifted  roses  already  on  the  verge  of  wilting,  bribes  offered  in  the  way  of  i  -  owe  -  you’s,  rain  check  texts  one  hour  after  a  read  message,  the  slip  of  smoke  through  outstretched  fingers,  large  sunglasses  shielding  disinterested  gaze,  company  offered  out  of  convenience  rather  than  genuine  desire,  the  dying  embers  of  a  flickering  flame.

𝒊𝒗.   𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕   𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒆   𝒃𝒖𝒕   𝒕𝒉𝒆   𝒘𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈   𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆     ;     taken  .

(  ♫  +  ❤  )     —    two  people  that  dance  a  fine  line  together,  and  perhaps  they’ve  been  dancing  it  since  the  beginning  of  her  first  year  up  to  joining  the  society  (  or  maybe  they  still  are  ).  push  and  pull,  always  like  two  moths  to  a  flame,  this  connection  is  the  prime  example  of  what  could  be  if  life  wasn’t  in  the  way.  the  two  have  obvious  chemistry,  but  there’s  something  that’s  keeping  them  from  being  together  -  could  be  the  society,  their  parents  or  friends,  or  some  other  outside  influence.  physical  or  emotional  boundaries  aside,  they  are  the  epitome  of  the  right  place  at  the  wrong  time  and  perhaps  they’d  be  together  if  they  could  but  instead  they  fight  against  it,  flirting  the  line  of  you  could  be  mine  and  it’s  just  not  the  time.  perhaps  they’ve  already  put  it  behind  them,  but  they  both  just  have  that  knowledge  that  in  another  life.

aesthetics  :   fleeting  glances  shared  across  a  crowded  room,  grazing  fingertips  in  a  fleeting  touch,  the  lingering  tendrils  of  darkness  in  the  break  of  dawn,  the  way  the  moon  controls  the  tides,  harmless  invitations  for  coffee  that  grows  cold  in  conversation  lapses,  knowing  coffee  orders  like  the  back  of  your  hand,  shared  smiles  hidden  in  the  crooks  of  necks,  faded  photographs  of  a  simpler  time,  handwritten  notes  tucked  neatly  between  book  pages.

𝒗.   𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆   𝒘𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒔   𝒘𝒆   𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆   𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈   𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏     ;     open  to  anyone  /  one  -  two  people  .

josephine  tends  to  her  friendships  like  a  neat  little  garden,  cares  so  wholly  for  each  of  them  in  their  own  special  way.  but  in  light  of  recent  events  (  and  moving  forward  amidst  a  still  missing  society  member  ),  it  only  makes  sense  for  a  couple  of  her  close  relationships  to  start  fraying  at  the  seams.  whether  they  consider  them  friends  is  neither  here  nor  there,  she’s  taken  to  applying  that  term  to  pretty  much  everyone  in  the  society,  truly.  their  friendship  is  well  on  its  way  to  dissolving,  or  at  least  a  very  close  breaking  point,  whether  it  be  because  of  the  stress  of  everything  going  on  (  or  went  on  or  will  go  on  ),  or  they  feel  that  she’s  somehow  betrayed  their  trust  in  some  way  (  could  be  trivial,  could  be  completely  valid  ),  or  perhaps  they’ve  come  to  learn  that  she’s  played  a  part  in  previous  disruptive  rule  breaking.

aesthetics  :  fraying  ends  of  a  friendship  bracelet,  the  bitter  taste  of  black  coffee,  dark  bags  under  tired  eyes  (  no,  they’re  not  prada  ),  the  ache  of  a  disappointed  gaze,  the  torn  pages  of  an  old  notebook,  waves  cresting  the  shore  to  simply  retreat  again,  empty  roads  at  4am,  a  table  for  two  but  party  of  one,  the  crinkling  static  of  a  tv  left  on  too  long,  four  missed  calls  and  a  ‘  we  need  to  talk  ‘  text,  curtains  drawn  in  once  familiar  windows.

𝒗𝒊.   𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆'𝒔   𝒕𝒐   𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕   𝒖𝒔𝒆𝒅   𝒕𝒐   𝒃𝒆     ;     taken.

the  two  had  dated  previously,  prior  to  either  of  them  joining  the  society.  whether  it  happened  during  her  teen  years,  the  lull  between  life  and  strathmore,  or  right  up  to  their  time  in  the  society  -  it’s  very  much  open  -  ended.  josephine  has  always  loved  too  deeply,  and  it  could  have  been  their  downfall  or  what  had  kept  them  together  as  long  as  they  were.  i  imagine  they  didn’t  end  on  the  best  of  terms,  but  she  still  cares  deeply  for  them  and  their  well  -  being,  regardless  of  where  they  stand  now,  and  perhaps  there’s  lingering  feelings  that  they  both  simply  deny.

aesthetics  :  tba.

𝒗𝒊𝒊.   𝒘𝒆   𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆   𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓   𝒐𝒇𝒇   𝒂𝒔   𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔    ;     open  to  anyone.

someone  that  josephine  has  history  with;  either  they’ve  kissed  or  hooked  up  a  few  times,  or  just  went  on  a  couple  casual  dates  but  there  was  nothing  ever  really  there.  no  hard  feelings  at  all,  they  mutually  decided  there  was  nothing  between  them  and  they  were  better  off  as  actual  just  friends.  they’re  probably  pretty  close  because  of  the  fact  and  it’s  just  something  that  they  joke  about  now.

aesthetics  :  tba.

𝒗𝒊𝒊𝒊.   𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆   𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒆   𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉   𝒕𝒉𝒆   𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈   𝒔𝒖𝒏    ;     open  to  anyone.

they  were  sleeping  together  out  of  convenience  at  some  point,  perhaps  they’d  turn  to  each  other  on  a  lonely  night  or  they’re  hanging  out  and  they  don’t  mean  for  it  to  happen,  but  they  end  up  tangled  together  in  one  of  their  rooms,  gone  in  the  early  hours  of  the  morning  before  the  other  ways.  or  perhaps  it  was  a  one  or  two  time  thing,  a  moment  of  weakness  or  split  decision  that  they  pretend  didn’t  happen.  truly  no  strings  attached,  neither  of  them  expecting  anything  from  the  other  because  it’s  not  supposed  to  mean  anything,  so  they’re  always  gone  by  morning,  before  anyone  can  see  them,  because  there’s  nothing  casual  about  deep  conversations  when  you’re  half  -  asleep,  bodies  pressed  together  and  hands  intertwined.

aesthetics  :  tba.

☆   𝒃𝒐𝒏𝒖𝒔   ☆     ;     aka  a  collection  of  six  -  word  stories  /  musings  that  would  also  be  fun  plots  but  i  simply  did  not  have  the  brain  cells  to  type  up  .

i.   𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍   𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉   𝒎𝒆   𝒊𝒏   𝒎𝒚   𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒔   ;   ii.   𝒚𝒐𝒖   𝒄𝒂𝒏'𝒕   𝒔𝒂𝒗𝒆   𝒎𝒆   𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎   𝒎𝒚𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇   ;   iii.   𝒊   𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒕   𝒎𝒚𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇   𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈   𝒕𝒉𝒆   𝒘𝒂𝒚   ;   iv.   𝒚𝒐𝒖   𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅   𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘   𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓,   𝒅𝒐   𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓   ;   v.   𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆   𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒔   𝒊𝒏   𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒅𝒔   𝒐𝒇   𝒅𝒐𝒖𝒃𝒕   ;   vi.   𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏   𝒊   𝒔𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒈,   𝒊   𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕   𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔   ;   vii.   𝒕𝒘𝒐   𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒔   𝒐𝒇   𝒕𝒉𝒆   𝒔𝒂𝒎𝒆   𝒄𝒐𝒊𝒏   ;   viii.   𝒊𝒇   𝒘𝒆   𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕   𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍   𝒕𝒉𝒆   𝒔𝒂𝒎𝒆   ;   ix.   𝒊   𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅   𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕   𝒊𝒏   𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓   𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒏𝒚     .

this  +  this  +  this  +  this  +  this  .

[grownups-are-the-real-monsters]

Silver Bells

Summary: Richie is sick and tired of being badgered about relationships at his family Christmas parties. And his idiotic cousin always brags about his girlfriend. So when in need of a fake boyfriend to stop the annoyance, Eddie’s name comes out. 

Words: 9,774 

Ships: Reddie 

Stanley Uris lightly dragged his pencil down the side of the worn out pages of his bird book, passing the bushels of color from the photos. A thin feather-light gray line followed in it’s path alongside the faded dark brown framing of the particular page. He grinned, a kind man’s grin, and hoped to himself that once winter ended he would get to see a lot more birds again. The distant chatter of the dinner customer crowd was just as foggy as his table’s paired window. The snow falling down tapped almost silently against it and left a delicate layer of moisture perfect for finger drawn doodles. Surrounding the view was a strand of tiny bulbs of Christmas lights. It was all very warm and welcoming, enhanced by the smell of home cooking. Stan enjoyed his job there and was glad he got it. Working under Mr. and Mrs. Carson, a lovely old couple, was just his favorite. 

The only thing was the creepy little old timey paintings they had around the dining areas. A part of him loved them and another part hated them. Their eyes followed him everywhere. 

“Stan!” Richie abruptly came from behind the booth and set his cold hands on the very slim opening of Stan’s shirt on to his exposed collarbones with the intent to scare him. But Stan remained still as the dead. It was not in the least bit surprising but it still disappointed Richie to no end. “How did that not get you this time?” 

Stan made a small amused huff as Richie came round to slide into the bench across from him, eyes avoiding the painting behind his head. “Can’t be surprised by what you know is coming, Rich.” Was his simple explanation and it made Richie huff for himself, crossing his arms and leaning back on the cushioned seat. He sat still for as long as he could entertain himself, which wasn’t long at all, before he started to hastily remove his layers of warm clothing. Flakes of snow fell off like tiny beads onto the chair and table. 

“Here, eat your soup. Still warm.” Stan pushed the tiny meal he brought from the kitchen over to his friend who he knew needed it. Richie gladly took it and started to dunk the little bread rolls into it. “I only have like ten minutes for break so, what’s up?” 

Richie slurped his soup from the silver spoon and rolled his lips together in thought. Stan had mastered his mind-blocking of the unfavorable sounds of eating, loud chewing and other classic gross hits. It was a skill that had come with the job and was now just a nice bonus. He smiled to show his friend he was listening. 

“I have a problem.” Richie swallowed his mouthful and sat back again like just the sentence had exhausted him. He reached over to play with the end of the scarf he had carelessly thrown on the table. 

“I think that much is apparent, Rich.” Stan nodded with a playful little grin and Richie rolled his eyes which lead to his thing about following every one of Stan’s movements with his eyes. He did that from time to time & Stan as well. But where they differed was Stan only really ‘people watched’ those he did not know because he had all his friends movements committed to memory. Richie, however, only really did this with his friends. And he’d make key expressions that lead Stan to believe he was happy with himself for predicting these movements. It was like he needed some kind of reassurance that he knew them as well as he suspected. 

Stan partly dabbled in the art of observing and noting his friends habitual patterns. He grinned to himself and shook his head the tiniest bit, his own physical note of happiness. Like Stan noticed, Richie’s nose twitched like he had expected that reaction. 

The nose twitching reminded Stan of that show....Bewitched! He figured if any sort of power that character had existed in the real world that it would most surely not be allowed in a restaurant. Especially if the someone who had it was Richie. He could imagine the havoc he’d cause and it made him giggle. “They’ll kick you out for that, y’know.” He mumbled to himself. Richie’s eyebrow quirked but he just waved his hand to forget it. “Never mind that, tell me what’s wrong.” 

“A lot of my relatives are coming over for Christmas and everyone of them bugs me about school and relationships sooo...” Richie trailed off and scooted up to the edge of the table with a look of amused dread. “I told my parents I had a boyfriend.”

Stan put on a little smirk. “I know where this is going.” 

Richie raised his brow but he continued. 

“I’ll do it but only cause I have a swell outfit I’ve been waiting to wear...” Stan trailed off in his special Stan way and rolled his head back on his shoulders with a tiny smirk. 

“Oh no. I told them Eddie was my boyfriend. I mean, I thought it’d work cause my parents like him and I thought maybe everyone else would too. Then they’d get off my back a little.” Richie explained, waving with his hands like he was telling a great story. Stan began to laugh again which annoyed his friend but he didn’t seem to care. 

“I would have made a great boyfriend, y’know? Better than Eddie.” Stan put on a frown and leaned over to punch his friends arm but Richie remained conflicted. “Truthfully, I don’t know if that was the best idea, Rich.” 

From his more upright position, the eyes of one of the paintings locked on him. Stan would scowl or maybe just move if he was alone.

Richie frowned, looking offended. “Why?” He said with a very snippy tone. Stan gave him that look that he absolutely hated. It was the kind of look only Stan could do. It said all he had to say without a lick of speech. It drove Richie nuts because what it said was ‘I know something’. 

“Well, because you like him.” Stan said casually, picking up the salt & pepper shakers to perfectly center them in front of the menus. 

The only reaction Richie could muster was to scoff a few times and try to stumble his way through a reply. “That is ridiculous. Stan, where did you get that?” He narrowed his eyes because the confusion was loud in the back of his brain. “I don’t like Eddie.” He made sure to put the same tone on the word as his friend. 

“Bev and I talk about it all the time.” Stan said in a joking manner but it still pissed Richie off. 

“Well fucking stop cause I don’t.” Richie reached over and pinched him. Stan made a small ‘ow’ sound and rolled his eyes. 

Stan licked his lips and shrugged, leaning his forearms on the table. “Ok, so I was wrong.” He didn’t seem all that bothered and Richie knew it was because Stan still thought of himself as right. It irked the shit outta him. 

“I don’t, Stan.” 

“I didn’t say anything-” 

“You said it with your eyes.” 

“Ok. I said it with my eyes, sorry.” Stan laughed softly. “Anyway, why didn’t you go talk to Eddie about this situation? Considering he is your ‘boyfriend’." Stan stood from the booth with a kind smile and looked down at him. 

Richie pouted up at him like a child. “Eddie’s gonna be maaaad.” He frowned. “He'd have to come over and meet everybody and-” Richie put his face in his hands and chuckled himself before pulling his palms down so his skin would pull. 

“I think you should give em’ a heads up.” Stan patted his shoulder and laughed. But when Richie made the move to get up from the booth, Stan stopped him with a gentle push as he whipped a towel over his shoulder. “Finish your soup first then go find him. He’s probably at the bike shop with Bill.” 

Richie smiled and went for his food again. Stan went the backwards way back to the kitchen to avoid that particular painting. 

                      ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Bill Denbrough had been many different things in his lifetime so far and a fool was not one of them. Although as he approached the middle of his senior year in high school with his butt planted firmly on a glossy floor and staticky balloons with bright yellow smiling faces as his only company, he realized that everyone was a fool. No exceptions.

He tilted his chin up and felt the thickness of the air from the cloud of dust forming around him. The sneeze he held back gave him the closest thing to a high that he’d had in months. It was kinda nice. The smiley balloons leered above him with a much more mocking energy than he had planned for. Had this been just a couple years ago, he would’ve sworn they were swarming around him. It was deeply upsetting when paired with the cheery winter tunes on the radio. ‘They're really rockin’ around the Christmas tree, huh?’ Bill smiled a cheesy grin back at one because he was alone and did not give a shit. The kind of smile that gave a soft click from the shift of spit and showed off his great teeth. One of the damn smiley things popped. He sneezed.

“Mmmm I didn’t like that.” Bill whispered to himself with a slight grin as he steadied his hand once more on the cherry red bike he was working on. “Not one bit.” He went on meekly but with a spark of amusement. He had to be amused because if he wasn’t he’d be really annoyed.

Bill had worked at Sherwin’s Bike shop for roughly a year working under Mr. Sherwin, a small and outgoing old man. Bill had painted big bubble letters on the windows and wrote fun little sayings on the signs like ‘Sherwin’s Schwinns are sure to win’ for a while. But when the kind old man went and died on him a month ago, he left the store all to some new guy that Bill didn’t very much like. Which was why he was stuck with an early shift that started with being the only one in the store. 

But now, he sat cross-legged on the bicycle shop floor some time later with his huge ‘Women want me, fish fear me’ shirt pooling into the lap of his jeans while he got stalked by smiling kids balloons. “All that worrying for nothing, huh? Turned out great, didn’t it?” Bill pursed his lips as he spoke to himself with such a heavy dose of sarcasm it would have annoyed anyone over thirty. And because he was becoming prematurely bitter, it sure did grind his gears too.

Grind his gears. That was a classic Mr. Sherwin expression. Bill hoped to God he wasn’t just going to straight up turn into the old man when he grew up, though he had loved him dearly. But his wardrobe spoke volumes on that idea. ‘Wearing a dead man’s shirt was like bad luck, wasn’t it?’ Bill paused from his work on the bike to think to himself. He sure hoped it wasn’t because he’d had enough of that in his life already.

It was the only damn piece of clothing in the store which made sense considering he had not thought to be prepared for spilling his coffee all over himself like an idiot at work. There had not been any time to go home for a change before he had to open but luckily, his favorite little old timer left this gem behind....’Almost as if he knew Bill would be an idiot.’ He was always one to tease him. The traces of his less prominent stutter that stayed with him was a popular subject to Mr. Sherwin’s comedy line-up. Bill missed him a lot but that did very little for him. People died on him, that was just the way it went.

One of his tools fell from the perch of his toolbox and shocked him enough to choke on his own spit. “F-f-fuck.” He cursed once he got most of his air back and stood, bringing the bike to full stance and laying it on it’s kickstand. And thus began the orchestra of disaster...

Once Bill had a small glass of water, he set it down to go back to his work but had misjudged his placement and it came to a crashing halt on the floor. The bike toppled over just a few feet away onto the tools which created harsh bangs of metal. Bill smacked himself on the forehead and bent to pick up the glass and cut his fingers. Blood trickled down his cupped hand as he rushed to get a towel that wasn’t covered in garbage.

“This is fine. Wonderful even.” Bill spoke in a voice so sickened with sarcasm and wrapped his hand slowly. He took a few moments to breathe in and out. It wasn’t as if he’d be alone much longer. His co-workers would be starting their shifts soon. That took a little weight off his shoulders and allowed him to relax.

Another balloon popped. 

And the glass doors abruptly opened. Bill almost jumped into the air but he was soothed as Richie came bopping in with a carefree smile. “Hey Bill have you seen-? Christ! What happened!?” 

Richie darted over and Bill was momentarily confused before remembering his cut-up hand. “Oh that...accident.” He tried to wave his hand to dismiss it but ended up flicking blood onto the counter. Richie rolled his eyes and tried to remember some of the medical shit Eddie had told him over the course of their friendship. 

Richie attempted to wrap Bill’s hand properly while the other man shifted around the counter looking tired.

“Hey, at least the good stuff in life only requires one hand, huh?” Richie made an obscene gesture and Bill only rolled his eyes with a look of distaste. He awkwardly chuckled and went back to his job. One of the floating yellow bastards began to deflate slowly and descended a ways towards the floor. Bill felt a flare of silly anger from his gut as he followed it with his eyes. The tension was so thick that Richie briefly looked up & over his glasses to check it out, turning to see what was so infuriating to his friend.  

“You do know that’s just a balloon, right?” Richie chuckled and Bill let out a small grin. 

“Damn t-t-things are annoying the crap outta me.” Bill shook his head and Richie pushed his glasses up. 

“Was Eddie around earlier? Kinda have to talk to him.” 

“No one comes just to visit me anymore.” Bill mock pouted and took his injured hand back from his friend. “Yeah, E-E-Eddie came in looking for you actually. He meant to catch you before he started work but said he was outta time now. So I’d go looking for him at the theater.” Bill said with a grin. Richie rolled his eyes because, of course. 

“I’ll come visit you later, Big Bill. Take care of your hand.” Richie snapped his fingers and made to exit.  

“Oh! Before I forget!” Richie piped back up, sliding closer to Bill again. “Where can a guy like me get one of those ‘Women want me, fish fear me’ shirts? Asking for a friend.” He waggled his eyebrows and made a mockingly curious face all his own.

Bill rolled his eyes but had to laugh at the way Richie spoke and moved. ‘That was his real kicker, he thought. Richie just fuckin’ moved and acted so ridiculous that it was truly his powerhouse. Especially considering it came off so natural.’ Bill shook his head a few times and moved to shrug and shove his hands into his pockets.

“S’not funny Bill. My friend really wants to know, ok?” Richie slapped Bill’s arm and broke himself. ‘His true weakness however was laughing before he could fully commit to a joke. Which could sometimes be even fucking funnier....so maybe it wasn’t a weakness’, Bill thought.  

They laughed endlessly for what seemed like hours. Every-time they thought the bug was gone, they’d just share a look and succumb to weird versions of their usual laughs. One’s that were more like hissing from being a victim of such restrain or their bodies would just rock in silence because nothing could even come out anymore.

“What’s the matter with you, that wasn’t even funny.” Richie spoke through restrained giggles. Bill shrugged and cradled his hand. 

“I dunno. I’ll s-s-see you later, man.” Bill patted him with his good hand and walked with him to the door as he spotted his co-workers beginning to walk in. 

                          ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Richie bopped inside the theater with hesitance. Eddie was a pistol and he was not too excited to hear the whole spiel he would surely have prepared in seconds flat for Richie name dropping him as his ‘boyfriend’. 

Upon entry he could easily spot his tiny friend working as the ticket boy though since it was a slow day, Eddie was texting hurriedly under the tiny little booth. He grinned. Eds was not a champion at being subtle. It was by some miracle that he’d yet to be noticed. Just as Richie was starting to walk over, his own phone buzzed. 

Eddie: Work is dead. Bring me a Redbull. 

Richie held in his giggle and happily skipped on over. “Hey! You shouldn't be texting on the job!” The deep and loud yell was contrary to his bouncy demeanor and wide grin. However, Eddie jumped about a foot in the air and by the look of it, had a mini heart attack. 

“Oh fuck you. I thought you were Robert.” Eddie rolled his eyes and smacked Richie hard in the arm. Robert was Eddie’s manager, a nice little old man, who Richie knew well enough just by visiting Eds all the time. That and he personally rejected Richie’s application on three different occasions. 

“That was the point.” Richie gave some passers-by the side-eye as they looked up to stare at them. The theater was pretty dead so this was the most excitement they probably had all day. “I’m really good at impressions, huh?” He playfully tapped him. 

“It isn’t hard to mock Robert, Rich. Where’s my Redbull?” 

Richie rolled his eyes and leaned on the little booth. “I got here ten seconds before you texted me. I’m not a psychic nor The Flash, y’know?” 

Eddie frowned but shrugged before they fell into an easy small-talk. “So why did you come visit then?” 

Richie grinned again though this time it was a little nervous. “Can’t I just come say hi?” He chuckled and Eddie smirked. 

“You come say hi like every time I’m on the clock. But I can always tell when you want something.” Eddie playfully narrowed his eyes and Richie felt his stomach drop a little. He glanced away and let his eyes drag over the red and gold decor of the theater. He felt the familiar bitterness for not being hired himself, he loved this place. 

“So here’s the thing-” 

“I knew it.” Eddie shook his head with a smile but quickly quieted to let his friend speak. He rolled his lips together, sniffled and rubbed his finger under his nose. 

“You know how my family bugs me about how I never date anyone?” Richie asked and Eddie nodded. “Well, everyone’s coming over for this Christmas party in a few days and it’s a whole thing... dinner, activities, and all that jazz.” Richie made jazz hands with a flat expression and Eddie fought back a tiny giggle. “So in order to dodge all those annoying questions...I told my parents that I have a boyfriend.” 

“You came out to your parents? That’s great! How did they take it?” 

“Great but that’s not the point-” Richie had never doubted his parents would be ok with it. He had a gut feeling that they already knew, probably even before Richie himself did. “I told them I had a boyfriend.” 

“But you don’t have a boyfriend.” 

“Thank you, captain obvious.” Richie rolled his eyes. “That’s the um...-Well I told them that you were my boyfriend..” 

Eddie’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth but Richie was already set on a long tangent. 

“I only said it because they like you so much, Eds. And I just don’t wanna hear that whole spiel again about relationships and I figured I could get them off my backs by being in one. Plus my mom already had suspicions about me being in a relationship. And when I said your name, she seemed pretty psyched....so yeah.” Richie grinned like a child after they’d done something wrong and rubbed behind his ear. 

He recalled the moment he’d told his mother. 

                           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They had been mindlessly bickering about the yearly Tozier Christmas party while she cleaned the kitchen. The oven cleaner had gone right to his head and made him slightly more irritated than normal. The idea of this tradition was more so a burden to him now than it ever was. Being that once he turned around fifteen, all the questions were about dating and school. And his idiotic cousin who already had a girlfriend. 

“Mom?.....Mom?....Mom!?” Richie whined like a child as Maggie Tozier pulled her head out of the oven with a comical grin that looked eerily familiar, Richie dropped his own grin. “Is everyone coming?” 

“Yes, Richie. Everyone but your cousin. He’s got plans with his girlfriend, y’know.” She poked his shoulder in a very ‘mom’ like way. 

“Oh that’s bull.”

“Richie!” She smacked the back of his head lightly. “Wouldn’t hurt you to just tell me you're dating someone.” She pursed her lips in the same way Stanley Uris did when he ‘knew’ something. He sat up straight with curiosity. 

“What do you mean?” 

“C’mon, I know you do. You go out all the time with the same excuse. ‘Going to hang-out with Eddie.’ or ‘Gonna go visit Eddie at work’. How many times can you be bothering that boy, realistically? I know that’s a cover-up son. I’m hip with the lingo.” Maggie circle her face with an extended finger and Richie held back a burst of laughter. 

Though that had been quite amusing, Richie was momentarily thrown that she’d noticed how much he, quote unquote, bothered Eddie. It wasn’t that much. Of course not. 

“You know your aunts and everyone wouldn’t bother you so much if you just admitted to it and brought her over.” She threw her dish towel over her shoulder, neglecting to remember it was covered in the oven cleaner that made Richie lightheaded and irritable. 

The more Richie thought about it, his mother was on to something. No more long awkward conversations about setting him up with the local teenagers they knew. He gritted his teeth just thinking about it. He held up his hands in mock surrender and spoke without thinking, which he did a lot. 

“You caught me, ma. You’re one...ugh...smart cookie, huh?” He put on some on some old timey voice and bumped her on the arm. She rolled her eyes but actually looked pretty pleased.  “I have a boyfriend.” 

Richie had spoke before he realized he’d basically just accidentally came out of the closet. He wasn’t too concerned but still....

Maggie just lit up though, her smile was wide and loving. “His name....?” 

Richie panicked. “It actually is Eddie! That’s why I hang out with him all the time!” He gestured, very happy with himself. 

‘That was smart, good job.’ He patted himself on the back. 

That is until he realized the consequences of his words. 

                                ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Why don’t you umm...think about it?” Richie suggested, fearing a long rant from the boy. “Keep in mind, it’d sure help me a lot.” He grinned and Eddie chuckled, he felt better. “I’ll come back in like ten minutes.” 

Eddie smiled like he was more so amused at the other boy than pleased, at least that’s what Richie thought. He gently patted Eddie’s arm and began to exit just as he saw Robert make his way over. 

As he headed to the door, he caught the beginning to their conversation. 

“You’ve got some weird friends, Eddie...” 

“Do I now?” Eddie’s voice suggested amusement. 

“Yeah. I don’t like that Richie kid, but you know that. You should hang more with that um....Bill kid or the Mike one. They’re nice respectable boys.” 

“Alright boss.” Eddie laughed. 

Richie couldn’t help but laugh. Though that old man didn’t like him and rejected his applications, Richie fuckin’ loved Robert. 

                                 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After Richie buzzed off for a while, Eddie moved on to cleaning the popcorn machine. His least favorite thing to do in the whole entire world. His thoughts easily drifted to the proposition Richie had given him. And as he cleaned the slimy grease off the counters nearby, he felt his stomach flutter. 

He liked Richie. Liked him. He so badly wanted to take this chance while he could because heaven knows he’d never actually say a thing to Richie about his feelings. He’d sooner die. 

He had mentioned it to Bill however, ‘well more like Bill found out all on his own because he knows me too well & I’m way to transparent but I digress.’ Eddie frowned deeply. Bill would be pissed if he found out Eddie had agreed to a plan like this. He could hear the whole speech about how this would only hurt his feelings in the long run now. But Eddie was thinking about saying yes. Really how bad could the harm be? Yeah he’d get his feelings hurt but he’d get to spend the day as Richie’s ‘boyfriend’...

Screw Bill. He was going to say yes. 

Ten minutes went by astoundingly quick and Richie was easily spotted in the corner of Eddie’s vision just as soon as he started to wipe down the concessions counter. He turned, mouth open to speak but Richie interrupted by sliding a can of Redbull to him. He grinned widely. 

“Oh you spoil me, Richie Tozier.” His voice was light and soft and he could almost feel a blush beginning to bloom on his cheeks. 

Richie happily leaned over the counter to pinch his cheek. “Anything for my Eddie Spaghetti.” 

Eddie swatted his hand away but missed it just as soon as it was gone. For a few comfortable minutes they were silent and smiley.  

Eddie coughed and looked down towards the candy case as if examining the order. “So I’ve thought about it.” 

Richie tried not to get his hopes up. 

“I’ll do it.” Eddie looked up again, once more wiping his finger nervously under his nose. Richie followed the movement with his eyes and looked as if he knew he Eddie was going to do it. He then lit up with a wide smile, so wide in fact that his cheeks pushed his glasses up. 

                                ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“And you said what!?” Bill narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms with all the grace of a middle-aged dad. Eddie gritted his teeth slightly as he responded with a ‘grin’ and twiddled his thumbs. 

“I said yes and it’s too late to change it.” He shrugged with a purse of his lips, looking rather smug. 

“No it’s not! Tell him I s-s-said no!” Bill spoke in all seriousness even though Eddie giggled like a child at that. “Be serious Eddie. This is only going to hurt you in the long run.” 

Eddie pondered that statement for a few seconds and pushed himself off the wall of the bike store. “One day being Richie’s boyfriend is better then nothing, Bill.” 

Bill rolled his eyes and tapped lightly at a bike handle. “I can’t believe you agreed to such a d-d-dumb idea.” He spoke as if he was wise beyond his years. Eddie loved and hated that trait, right now he mostly hated it. 

“Look. I’m not trying to be the bad guy, Eddie. But once the day is done, you and Richie will be too. W-Where will that leave you? S-s-sad and regretful.” Bill rolled his lips together and felt a pinch in his gut. Eddie’s eyes glazed over with thought again and he could tell he was biting his cheek. 

“I’ll be fine and I invite you to call my bluff afterwards if I’m wrong.” Eddie nodded. 

Bill sighed, momentarily giving up the subject in fear of causing too much strain. The two of them ended up watching one of those stupid and unsettling yellow balloons slowly deflate to the ground for twenty minutes. 

                             ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

The day of the Tozier Christmas Party, Richie woke up supremely early to help his mother around the home. The cleaning, the tidying, the whole ordeal. His father sat at the kitchen counter reading the paper without a care in the world while his lovely & helpful son cleaned under the table. 

‘Under the God damn thing. Like seriously? Who was gonna see under the thing? Beside’s maybe Grandma Ruth’s frickin’ dog.’ Richie pouted to himself as he laid under the thing and heard Wentworth Tozier’s soft laughter. Richie decided to give him a little show. 

He moved to crawl under but purposefully misjudged his distance and smacked his head against the table. Wentworth burst into laughter, the kind Richie basked in with pride. Playing stupid wasn’t his preferred method to get laughter but it sure was effective in small doses. 

“Oh Richie....” His mother’s voice cooed from the other room as if she just knew what happened from the ‘thump’ sound.

“I’m ok, ma. Tip top shape even.” Richie stood up as he called out loudly to his mother, rag hanging out of his pocket as he moved to sit next to his father, still chuckling. “So’s the table. Am I done for the day now?” 

Wentworth ruffled his son’s hair. “Sure, sure. But before you go goof off somewhere, is my oh so wonderful son bringing someone to our little party this year?” 

Richie slouched and shrugged him off with a playful frown. “Just Eddie, you’ve met him.” He assumed his father did not no of the details yet. Maggie Tozier might be a gossip but right now she was a little preoccupied, he heard her opening and closing drawers to reorganize them now. Plus, she most likely would want Richie to explain it when he was ready. 

“Ahh Eddie, yes.” He nodded, not seeing anything weird in that idea. Richie pursed his lips. 

“I just wanted to um....” Richie stumbled a little, not quite expecting his nerves to rise as they were. It was a little shocking. He knew 100% that his father wouldn’t care about the gay thing and would love him either way. So was it the Eddie thing he was nervous about? He shouldn’t even care about that cause it wasn’t even a real thing. “Bring someone special, you know?” 

“He’s one of your childhood pals, Rich. Sure he’s special.” Wentworth casually spoke as he filled in another word in his crossword puzzle. “That’s why we invite your ‘Uncle’ Dan. He’s been my buddy since I was ten. Did I ever tell you how I met him-?”

“Yeah Dad. Just a little over two hundred times.” Richie wondered if all father’s had trouble recalling what boring stories they’d told at nausea. 

“Anyway” Richie paused to think. He really had to sell this to get him to believe Eddie was his boyfriend. 

So he took advantage of his nerves to give the best acting performance of his life...’and it wasn’t even that hard!’ His father turned to him, oblivious as ever. “Never-mind it’s stupid.” 

Wentworth smiled up at his child and chuckled, swallowing his first tedious sip of the coffee he’d been nursing. "I say a lot of stupid things, I won't mind."

Richie gave him a look a lot of children give their parents. One of begrudging amusement and familiarity. “Well, Eddie and I are dating, dad.” Richie blurted and bit his lip afterward, wondering if that had been too strong. 

“You don’t have to tell me that.” He rolled his eyes. “All kids your age are dating, son.” He shrugged and Richie blinked. How had he completely missed the point? 

“Each other, dad. We’re dating each other” Richie rolled his eyes. Wentworth grinned. 

“Oh. Alrighty then. Better warn him about your aunts, my boy. They’ll be swarming him with questions.” He stood, the chair squeaking, and patted Richie’s back softly. 

Richie smiled, no teeth, just a casual joyful grin. “Better warn him about you too, dad. You and mom can be quite the handful, I tell ya.” He laughed and felt instant warmth and relief as he leaned back and his father wrapped his arms around him briefly. “Thanks.” He mumbled into his arm. 

His father said nothing else. Just shook his son lightly and kissed the top of his head, a gesture Richie usually hated. 

                        ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything had worked out perfectly. Eddie’s mother was going to be out for the day with a friend but not before she helped him bake some peppermint brownies. To avoid suspicion, Eddie insisted they were for his track team because they were meeting for practice today. She was none the wiser to the fact that Track was not even in season right now. 

To sell the point even further, Ben came over early in the morning to help them and to vouch for Eddie’s track story. 

“Eddie. You could have said cross country, at least that’s currently in season.” Ben rolled his eyes with a small laugh. Eddie bumped his elbow and shrugged. 

“Well, track’s what came out of my mouth so we’re going with it.” He sprinkled some peppermint dust on the brownies. Sonia Kaspbrak was getting her things together before she had to leave. “Besides, I’m not doing cross country again. Just track for me.” 

Ben recalled the one year Eddie had done both and all the times he’d complained about running through the ‘fucking disgusting woods, Ben.’ He laughed. “I could guess that.” 

“So what exactly am I helping you with now?” Ben asked, playing connect the dots with the candy cane pieces in his mind. 

“...The brownies.” Eddie said dumbly, arm hovering over the pan of food. Ben laughed again. 

“Yeah, no. I got that dummy. I met what am I helping you cover for?” Ben smacked his arm lightly as Eddie mumbled a small ‘oh’.

“Richie needed a fake boyfriend for a Christmas party to you know, get his family off his back.” Eddie shrugged, casually. 

Ben chuckled again. “Sounds like a nightmare.” He joked. Eddie laughed too after what he thought was a pause. 

“It’s a way to spend an afternoon alright. At least I’ll get some food and shit.” Eddie dusted his hands of crumbled candy and wiped them down his pant legs. “He’s coming over early, just as soon as my mom leaves to....”  He stopped moving his hands to think it over. “actually I don’t know.” 

Ben raised his eyebrows with amusement. 

The two of them finished up the dessert treat and once Sonia had left, with a bit of a struggle, Ben made his exit too. 

Eddie wrapped some tin foil over the pan and placed it on his counter just as a knock came at the door. Just as he swung the door open, a hug black garbage bag thrust into his arms. 

“Is your mom here?” Came Richie’s voice, slightly muffled as Eddie’s face was shoved into the bag. He threw the thing onto his carpet and rolled his eyes. Richie stood in his doorway with a wide mischievous smile and a Christmas sweater that was practically glowing from the twinkle. 

“No but if she was, your ass would be thrown out on the sidewalk by now. Do you have to make such a scene when you enter a room?” Eddie playfully smacked his cheek and Richie shoved him off, moving towards his bag of treasures. 

“The answer is yes, Eddie my boy.” Richie sat on the ground and started to untie his bag. “And look what I have brought for you, my dear boyfriend.” Richie chuckled and Eddie swallowed thickly. 

For a panicked moment, Eddie fully agreed with Bill. Just from the use of that word. It hit him in the gut and took with it his breath, he almost reached for his inhaler. However Richie did not miss a beat and was already pulling crap out of the bag to show him. 

“You gotta pick one so you can blend in with the Toziers, who dress soooooo very cool.” 

The garbage bag was full of Christmas sweaters, each one uglier than the next. Eddie let himself laugh again and took a seat on the carpet with his friend to dig through the pile of mess. 

And for a solid twenty minutes, Eddie didn’t have a care in the world. As long as Richie was making him laugh and displaying his lovely sweater collection, he was happy and carefree. 

After some fun, Richie and Eddie headed on their way together. The drive was surprisingly quiet, each boy inside their own head. Richie admired the falling snow and hoped that it would stick around to last through Christmas day. 

Eddie’s mind was happily pushing out the risks about the day and feeling the slight itch from his borrowed sweater. He was elated from the knowledge that under Richie’s own thin coat, his sweater matched with his. He grinned and twitched his nose. He was pleasantly surprised that he wasn’t feeling that nervous anymore....in fact the only bothersome feeling he was having was that kind of absent feeling? He shook his hands which somehow felt empty as if he forgot something....

“Shit! Oh my god, you’re so stupid.” Eddie smacked his forehead and yelled at himself. Richie just about jumped six feet in the air from the abrupt surprise. 

“Hey! What’d I do???” Richie blinked and Eddie turned to him with a look of amusement and annoyance, he gave that look to Richie a lot. 

“No, I was talking to myself....I made brownies for your family but I doubt they’ll enjoy them much if they’re still in my kitchen.” 

Richie chuckled for a few seconds before realizing they’d have to drive all the way back to Eddie’s house. “Oh crap.” He muttered, fidgeting in the drivers seat like he was going to turn. 

Brenda Lee was singing with a voice of jolly as Richie pulled into a gas station to turn them around. “Should actually get some gas here, Rich. You’re gas light’s gonna be on in like two minutes I bet.” Eddie laughed. 

Richie frowned. He was a really good driver but if he had one problem, it was forgetting to get gas or just pretending he didn’t need to do it. He did not like having to stop because it was an ‘inconvenience’. It made Eddie laugh because what an actual inconvenience it’d be if the guy ran out of gas in the middle of driving. 

As the boy got out of the car, Eddie turned up the radio and felt the vibration of Richie sticking the gas pump in. The radio started out in soft whispers and grew louder in a familiar nostalgic way. Eddie knew just what it was so he lowered his window for his companion. “Listen to what you’re missing, Rich!!” 

“...Another year over. And a new one just begun. And so this is Christmas...”

Richie instantly shouted out a loud cry of enjoyment. He finished filling the car up and hurried over to the window with the brightest grin Eddie had ever seen, he scooted back on his seat as if afraid of the sudden closeness. “This is why I hate getting gas. I miss everything good.” He leaned further into the car. 

“Then get in and lets’ go.” Eddie said, almost begging him to back up and stop leaning over him. 

                              ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Richie and Eddie made it back to his house and collected the brownies which were just too enticing for Richie not to try on the way back to his house. He ate three out of the huge pan full. Eddie smacked his hand the fourth time he tried to reach for one. 

Richie did a great rendition of Elton John’s ‘Step Into Christmas’ where he got louder and louder every line which ended just in time for him to pull into his icy driveway. He turned the car off and made no immediate move to get out, just leaned back and sighed. “We’re still really early so it’s still probably just my parents.” 

Eddie nodded. 

“You ready for the greatest time of your life, dear?” Richie asked a sweet voice and made Eddie grin and laugh. Richie took that as yes and hopped out of the car in a flash and before Eddie could even think to open his door, Richie opened it for him. 

Eddie whistled as he hopped out, careful not to slip though Richie looked ready to help if needed. “Oh how I love when you’re a gentleman.” He batted his eyes in some impression of a love-struck teen. He didn’t really know for sure what he was going for, after all Richie was the impressionist. 

Richie almost looked flattered for a second, blinking with a shy grin. But almost instantly after, he rushed to the door while Eddie followed after. 

Richie started speaking almost before he even opened the door,  “ 'Zat You, Santa Claus?” He questioned sarcastically as he slid inside with a smirk. “Oh no, just your loving son.” He smiled and then gestured for Eddie to follow him. 

“Dusting off the ol’ Louis Armstrong impression for the holidays, huh?” Wentworth spoke up from the kitchen counter. His newspaper spilled from his hands and spread over the table. His eyes still glanced over to read a few lines as his mother used the sports section as a placemat for cutting up ribbon. She glanced up and the look on her face was way more excited than Richie had expected and suddenly he was nervous again. 

The home was in the process of being decorated, evergreen garland wrapped their banister and bundles of lights nested deeply in the spaces between green and pine cone. Richie was willing to bit his mother had forgot about the annual Christmas sprucing again and borrowed some extra lights from their neighbors. The ol’ time-y 50′s radio that Richie had found at a garage sale was pulled from his room and sat neatly a-top their crappy fireplace. James Taylor was currently wishing them all a merry little Christmas. He smiled. 

“Eddie!” Maggie happily strolled over and stood before them.

“I’m here too mom.” Richie said sarcastically and she waved her hand with a matching smirk. 

“Hi, Mrs. Tozier, Mr. Tozier.” 

Richie could tell Eddie was a little nervous but who wouldn’t be if you had to pretend to be dating someone in front of their parents? 

“I made everyone some brownies...there’d be more if your son didn’t eat three on the way over here.” Eddie playfully smacked Richie’s arm and handed over the pan to Maggie, who looked grateful. 

“He is his fathers boy.” Maggie threw a look to her husband as she slid the treats carefully before him. He was not really paying attention to her and habitually reached out for a sweet brownie. Maggie slapped his hand and gave Eddie a look that said ‘See!’ and they shared a laugh. 

“Hey! What’d I do?” Wentworth questioned, darting his eyes between them. 

Richie felt a little odd at the moment. It was a new level of bonding that just occurred between his mother and Eddie. A simple shared joke about the Tozier boys...’Their Tozier boys’....it made his face burn a holly colored red that luckily no one saw. 

“I thought you kids might wanna decorate the tree before the family shows up.” Wentworth scooted out of his seat and followed them into the living room area, picking up a smaller ornament box while Richie took a larger to set on the couch. 

This was Richie’s favorite activity. God, he loved this time of the year. He started to carefully dig through the boxes for the best ones while Eddie sat down on the couch. “You gonna help me or what, Eddie dear?” 

Eddie scoffed, leaning his body over the box. “I dunno....you probably ate enough sugar to do it all yourself in thirty seconds, Rich.” He spoke softly but with his favorite tone...teasing. 

Richie rolled his eyes and leaned over the box as well, slightly taller so Eddie tilted his chin up. “You’re such a Grinch these days...” He sighed and lifted a clearly handmade ornament, admiring it in his hand. “I miss the boy in this ornament...he was much more fun back then.”

Eddie furrowed his brows and sat on his knees to get a peek of the ornament however Richie moved it from just under his nose. “Oh come on, what is that?” He scurried off the couch and fought him for it. 

Neither boy cared to notice Richie’s parents who were so obviously enjoying the show. Maggie smacked Wentworth’s arm to get him to look and when he did, he held back laughter. “These kids...” She rolled her eyes but let her hand rest over her heart. 

“Aha!” Eddie ripped the thing from his friend and got the look he wanted so badly. It was a handmade clay red and green frame with a photo of the two of them when they were no more than eight. Richie wanted to see the look on Eddie’s face so he instinctively rested his chin on Eddie’s shoulder. He’d been doing that lately a lot since Eddie was much shorter than him. “Awwww...” Eddie couldn’t help but smile. “We look so stupid.” He burst into laughter and thrusted the ornament back to his ‘boyfriend.’ 

“I gotta see this.” Wentworth jumped up and went over to them, Richie gladly handed it over. His dad smiled and shook his head and soon Maggie was over there just the same. 

“And who would’ve known those two idiots would grow up to be two idiots in love.” Richie mocked, hand on his chest before looking at Eddie. That’s when he realized the heaviness of his words. Eddie’s eyes were wide and for a half second, panicked. No one in the room seemed to know what to do but for different reasons. Richie allowed his parents to believe the air was tense because they’d simply not said the ‘L’ word just yet while he and Eddie didn’t make eye contact. 

“Ummm, ok. Who wants to hang the elf with one arm?” Richie held up the broken ornament with an awkward smile. Eddie chuckled, taking it from him, so everyone knew it was ok again. 

They spent twenty minutes hanging shit. There were tons of ornaments Richie didn’t even remember like a vintage looking yellow balloon with a black smiley face. He figured it was one of his dads, he was weird. 

                         ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had only took two or three guests arriving for Richie and Eddie to fall into a comfortable routine. Mostly because nothing had really changed. Richie always put his arm around Eddie, Eddie always begged Richie for bites of his food when he was perfectly capable of getting his own, and Richie always played with the end of Eddie’s sleeves. 

By the time everyone was all counted for, Richie and Eddie were making their rounds with no problem. Richie could not believe how easy it was. They got told they were the cutest little couple like ten different times. ‘That was strange, huh? Nah, I’m a great actor so...’ Richie got distracted by Eddie looping their arms together. 

Eddie was in shock that he played the part so well. Even family members he’d met before found it completely normal for the two of them to be ‘dating now’. It pained him a lot. Even more than he suspected. 

The two of them and found a moment to themselves in the corner of the room on an old chair. Richie cradled a Pine candle that he raised to his nose every thirty seconds or so. “So, how weird is it for you?” Richie asked, head tilting to the side. 

Eddie frowned. “Very.” ‘painful’. He took the candle to smell it for himself. 

Richie deflated at that answer and he wasn’t quite sure why. That had been what he’d expected. He looked up to where his mother was showing everyone some childhood scrapbook and caught a comment. 

“I knew it. Mary, I’ll tell you that much. I knew those two were a couple.” 

Wentworth rolled his eyes, sipping the most classic dad drink he ever could, eggnog. “No you did not.” 

His mother turned with her lips pursed to start bickering about it and Richie did not want to hear anymore. “What about you, Rich?” Eddie handed the candle back over. 

Richie took in a nice long breath of it and rolled his lips together. “I mean yeah, but when everyone was trying to get us under the mistletoe I was excited. I’ve just been dying to kiss ya, Eds my love.” He grinned and leaned over to pinch his cheeks and Eddie rolled his eyes, slapping his arm to initiate a play fight. 

“Awww look how cute.”

Both boys stopped suddenly as Richie’s aunt Mary stopped in front of them. Their cheeks turned rosy shades of pink. 

“Hey Aunt Mary....” They both smiled awkwardly, dropping their hands into their own laps. 

“Now. I’ve heard from just about everyone on how cute you two are.” She put her hands on her hips and they nodded out of politeness. “But I would like to know how it started. I mean I’ve known you Eddie since you were about...yay big.” She paused to make sure her measurement was right, her hand hovered low to the ground. “So it must be a cute story. You guys were adorable then too.” She laughed. 

‘Crap.’ Of all their preparing, they lacked an actual answer for that. They never did come up with a full story. Richie turned to his friend, who looked equally lost and figured he should take the handle on this since it was all his idea. 

“Well, I think I always just knew, you know?” Richie started, hoping he could pull it off. So he tried to remember why everyone truly believed them. “But I’m pretty shit at being serious about things like that so I always just joked with Eddie about it, I’m sure you remember hearing some of that?” He asked her and she nodded, not even caring that he swore just then. 

“Anyway, I um....” He scratched behind his ear before awkwardly sliding it over to clasp Eddies for a more convincing look. Eddie didn’t even flinch, in fact, he looked rather interested himself. “It was after this really awesome day we had this past summer. We’d all hung out all day and at some point we were the only two left so I asked Eddie if he wanted to get ice cream. And what was it that we got...?” Richie laughed and looked to Eddie. This was such an unnecessary detail but he was basing this on an actual day they had and for the life of him, he could not remember their order from that day. 

“Rocket pops.” Eddie supplied him with what he remembered and shook their hands, for a few seconds they just looked at each other. 

“Oh yeah, Rocket pops. So I being an idiot, thought it’d be funny to scare Eddie on my way back from getting mine and so I did and you should’ve seen him.” He started to laugh. “He must’ve been going for a record jump. Eds Kaspbrak gets twenty feet off ground....” He laughed some more before gathering himself for his aunt’s sake. 

“And he drops his right? We didn’t have anymore money left either so I felt like the scum of the earth.” He pats their clasped hands with his free one. “So I gave him mine. He didn’t even care about my germs. And I dunno...something about that moment was too perfect. I was still out of breath from the greatest day ever, I think Bruce Springsteen was playing on the loud speaker at the ice cream place and he makes me overly confident like nothing else-” He laughed again “And it was so God damn sunny out....so like the perfect day, right?” He was going on one of his tangents. 

Eddie’s hand tightened it’s grip and Richie felt less nervous. “So I just kinda actually realized it for the first time and I knew that I had to say something right then and there or I’d regret it.” He waved his hand and when everyone was still looking, he let it fall. His chest tightened with embarrassment. 

“Awwww, you two are the cutest kids.” Aunt Mary said in that adult tone of voice that read like she didn’t believe they’d last very long and she walked away. However, Eddie smacked his arm hard enough to leave a hand-print. 

“Ow! What’d I do?” Richie rubbed at it and whined. Eddie shook his head and smiled. 

“How did you come up with that?” 

Richie felt himself grow even more embarrassed. “Oh well, you know-” 

“Richie! come here for a minute!” He heard his mother call and was instantly relieved to escape the moment. He gave Eddie a small smile and squeezed his shoulder in habit as he left the room. 

About five minutes later Eddie got bored and walked into the kitchen. He made a terrible mistake when he stopped at the door frame next to Richie where they were now...both under the mistletoe. ‘Crap’ 

This time, they’d done it themselves but no one seemed to notice a part from them. Richie looked up and back at Eddie, then Eddie did the same. 

Both boys remained still and focused on the other. There was something between them in this moment, Eddie was sure. And God he really hoped so. Richie had to be thinking the same thing. Who could say a story like that and not mean it?

Richie twiddled his thumbs as he looked at the smaller boy. That story had just come out of him really. But when he was saying it....boy he really wished that had been what happened. Looking at Eddie right now, he was oh so sure he felt the same way. 

‘This is it. He’s gonna say something’ Richie thought.  

‘This is it. He’s gonna say something’ Eddie thought.  

“Kids come here for a second!” 

They both jumped, maybe breaking Eddie’s record from the ice cream shop and felt their chances were blown. Even worse, both felt that maybe they were reading too much into it. 

                        ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“He's got to wear his goggles 'cause the snow really bites And he's cruisin' every path with a little surprise-” 

“Dad? Did you just say ‘the snow really bites?’ ” Richie asked his father with a laugh. Wentworth nodded. “That’s not right. It’s ‘the snow really flies’, dad.” 

Eddie chuckled as he plopped into the seat next to Richie. Richie’s dad pulled back with a shocked expression. 

“You’re kidding?” 

“No dad. I know that song in and out. No one knows the Beach Boys better than your awesome son.” Richie stuck his thumb to his chest and Wentworth scoffed, getting up and ruffling his sons hair. Richie watched him go and turned to his small friend. “How goes it, my love?” He pinched his arm. Eddie smacked his hand away. 

“Don’t do that, asshole.” He reached over and pinched him back. Eddie wanted so badly to start actually talking about how he was feeling like a normal person. But he really couldn’t get it out. Bill was right. This was a bad idea and any pain he was feeling was his own damn fault.

‘Little Saint Nick’ faded into ‘Silver Bells’ and Richie lit up like a Christmas tree. “Come on Eds, my dear. We should probably dance, you know?” He held out his hand and Eddie hesitated before allowing it. 

Teasing ‘whoops’ and whistles came from his family members and Eddie hoped he wasn’t blushing. Richie just played along, rolling his eyes and waving his hands at them. 

“-Children laughing people passing meeting smile after smile And on every street corner you hear

Silver bells (silver bells) Silver bells (silver bells)” 

Richie pulled Eddie closer. 

Eddie almost pinched himself. 

Both boys took to the dance as any boyfriends would. Laughing, spinning each other and pulling the other close. Eddie was in heaven. 

Richie leaned his head down as Eddie came close again, smiling into the shorter boys hair. 

“Hey Eds-?” Eddie looked up and their faces were now just inches apart. “I missed the moment last time....but this one’s just as good so...I wanna tell you, I have feelings for you. Like real ones.” 

Eddie almost passed out. “You do?”

Richie loosened up on the boy and nodded. “I know it might be weird and I dragged you into this but holy fuck, I didn’t plan on this. I have feelings and I think I always have.” 

Eddie jumped up and wrapped his arms around his neck and heard distant whistles again. So he just mumbled into Richie’s neck. “Me too. And I’m so happy you dragged me into this.”

                       ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The losers club was huddled into one small booth at the restaurant where Stan worked. They had just gotten the great news from Richie and Eddie. All that was left to hear was Stan. He came strolling out of the kitchen after his shift ended and slid into what space was left next to Mike. 

He caught sight of Richie, who’s arm was around Eddie and he smirked the widest he’d ever had in his life. 

“Wow. Seems like another case of I was right and you were wrong, huh Richie?” He crossed his arms. Richie shrugged. “I knew you liked Eddie. Before you even knew.” He stuffed some bread in his mouth as the rest of the losers laughed. 

They spent the next twenty minutes having dinner together. Richie pulling Eddie close and the eyes of the ol’ timey paintings followed them all. 

[randomkpopfaketexts]

Magic Trick

Requested by @pxisonedparty: Hi! I was wondering if you could write a Qian Kun scenario? Maybe him confessing to you or an angst of him telling you he's fallen out of love. There are so little Kun related posts :( our boy deserves more recognition! I can't wait for NCT China's debut!!!!

IVE HAD THIS IDEA FOR A WHILE AND DAMN LET ME TELL YOU YOU JUST GAVE ME A REASON TO WRITE IT THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR REQUESTING THIS

Also here’s a link to my NCT Masterlist! I have a small miniseries for Kun that’s a text scenario.

Also don’t worry too much! I’ll be writing that angst one soon!😏

Theme: Fluff, tiny bit of angst

Warnings: cheesy ass fluff and confession

You sat with your group in your practice room giggling amongst yourselves as you picked at your food. You’d been working hard all morning, learning new choreography, and hadn’t had time to eat breakfast so this was a saving grace for all of you.

In fact you had been working so hard all morning that you and all of your other members had neglected your phones for the past five or six hours. So you had no idea that your phone had been blowing up with messages from various members of NCT, your senior group whom you and all you members were really good friends with, were trying to figure out where you had been all morning.

Your giggles were interrupted by your practice room door opening and Johnny’s head peeking in. A confused look on his face until he spots you, then a grin formed.

“I found her!” He shouts over his shoulder, you exchange looks with your members. Each one of you just as confused as the other.

“What is going- Kun!” You shout, smiling as your best friend steps into the practice room timidly. You stand up and rush around the circle of girls and towards him, throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him tight. This was your first time seeing him since he returned from attending a graduation ceremony in China.

You missed your best friend and it had only been a week.

You pull away from him slightly, his hands resting on your hips as you admired his soft smile close up.

“You weren’t answering your phone.” He states, frowning. You remove your hands from his shoulders and poke you fingers onto either side of his face attempting to make him smile again.

“I’ve been practicing all morning. This is the first real break I’ve had and I’ve been stuffing my face since I missed breakfast.”

He smiles and grabs your hands, preventing you from playing with his face anymore, “Have you eaten enough?”

You think for a minute then nod your head, he looks to your leader and says, “I’m going to borrow her for a minute. I’ll bring her back,” before dragging you away.

“Where are we going?” You ask as you pass various people in the hallway of the SM building, including many members of NCT who only smirk or smile in your direction.

“To the NCT practice room.”

“But whyyyyyy?” You drag out the word as he shuts the door behind you after you had entered the room, no other soul in sight.

“Stop pouting Y/N.” He smiles down at you, his hands finding your shoulders as he turns you around to see a blanket set in the middle of the room with various types of sweets thrown about, mainly your favorites.

“Aw! Kun!” You speak excitedly, looking over your shoulder at him, your face warm from the sweet and caring gesture from him. “What’s all of this for?”

“I figured… you’ve been working so hard, and its been about a week since we saw each other, and thats the longest we’ve gone, that we needed a little moment together.” He pushed you lightly, wanting you to move to take a seat on the blanket. “Just the two of us.”

He shoves his hands into the pocket of his hoodie keeping them there as the two of you sit. He watches as you peel open a pack of cookies, and pull one out to munch on it quietly.

“Stop watching me eat,” you giggle attempting to hide your face once you realize he’s staring at you with a smile on his face. You peek at him between your hands, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. Do you want to see a magic trick?”

You perk up immediately. “Yes please!”

He pulls a deck of cards out of his hoodie pocket, going about shuffling them and preparing to show you a trick. The same one he did in the vlive with all members of NCT 2018.

Slowly he goes through the trick, passing every so often for you keep up as you get distracted by finding another sweet to eat.

As you near the end of the trick, he snaps his fingers over the cards, ready to reveal the new faces of the card just as he had done in the vlive.

“Ready?”

You nod excitedly, your legs drawn up to your chest, and your chin resting on your knees.

The flip of the first card reveals an aesthetic photo he had taken of you.

The flip of the second reveals an aesthetic photo you had taken of him.

The flip of the third reveals one of many pictures of you together.

The grin on your face is uncontrollable now as he lifts the third one and reveals the ace to you. He shakes the card back and forth, watching you as you shift to sit on your knees.

Your body moving to lean over the cards, your hearts both racing. Yours in anticipation. His in nervousness as to what he was about to reveal to you. You look up and notice the nervousness on his face as your eyes meet and he flips the fourth and final card over to lay it next to the others.

“Are you okay?” You asking not looking at the card yet.

“Just look.”

I love you was written on the card, the final reveal and big confession. The grin on your face was wide, your heart pounding against your ribcage. Your face burning with happiness.

Kun remained unmoving, your face hidden by a curtain of your hair as he waited for your response to his well thought out confession. He thought from the very beginning when Johnny, Ten, Taeil, and Taeyong began helping him plan this, that he had nothing to worry about because they were so confident that you loved him too.

But now as you remained silent and unmoving he began to believe otherwise. He sighed after a few more minutes of no response and swiped the cards up and into the deck in his hand.

His sudden movement startled you and you look up at him in shock, tears streaming down your face. And suddenly he forgot your silence and dropped the deck.

“Y/N, what did I do wrong?” He began apologizing to you and you laughed a little, still crying. He stopped and frown at you.

“Kun stop frowning. I like it when you smile better.”

“Then don’t laugh at me and my pitiful excuse of a confession…” He looks away and settles to sit on his butt instead of his knees.

“It wasn’t pitiful.” You tilt your head to the side. “I loved it. Its memorable and something I’m going to hold on to forever Kun. Especially as long as I’m with you… Its the nicest, most thoughtful thing that has ever been done for me.”

He looks up at you, searching for any sign of a lie.

“I mean what I say Kun. I love you.” You hold your arms open for him, and he scoots over to you, pushing sweets and cards out of the way. You were to the side of him, on your knees. He sat on his butt, legs stretched out in from of him as he leaned forward and towards you. He wraps his arms round your waist, tugging you into his lap as your arms go around his neck. Your faces burying into each others necks.

“I love you.”

[franeridart]

i miss your haikyuu art so much it was the best - dont get me wrong i fucking adore your bnha art but like,,,,, haikyuu,,,,,,,

Well pal, aren’t you lucky, you might have been missing from my blog in the past two weeks but if you scroll down just three posts you might notice I’ve been drawing haikyuu again (x x x)

Anon said:People don’t remember baccano anymore? :o

I assumed so since it’s been ten years since it aired and the fandom has always been small and quiet anyway, but it looks like I assumed wrong!!!! That made me so happy, honestly? Baccano’s my fav anime ever, it’s always super nice to see it appreciated!

Anon said:I’M HAPPY YOU LIKE BACCANO! NOBODY KNOWS IT

Anon said:Omg thanks for the baccano au I love it.

Anon said: BACCANO!! I love you so much right now!!!

Anon said: YOU DID A BACCANO CROSSOVER!! IVE NEVER SEEN ONE DUDE MAJOR PROPS TO YOU!!!! I literally love that series, it was one of my first ones so seeing it mixed with one of my current favourites is surreal!!

Anon said: DID YOU JUT DO A BACCANO AU OMG ITA BEEN SO LONG SINCE IVE WATCHED THAT IT WAS MY FAVE 😭😭😭😭😭 i cried so much during it all the time it was so badass

This is exactly what I was talking about!!! So HAPPY all of you love that anime as much as I do! And thank you SO MUCH for liking the crossover!!!!!!! ;O;

Anon said:Fran, just out of curiosity, what colors do you associate with Bakugou/Kirishima/the rest of the squad?

The ones I use to write their dialogues! Orange for Bakugou, red for Kirishima, gold for Sero, yellow for Kaminari and pink for Ashido! :D

Anon said: tumblr has been a butt and not notified me of your post but i saw your nishinoya and i died i love the way you draw him and boiiiiii bokuto and kuroo be looking smokin and your kiribaku (is that right??? im a failure i cant remember!!!:( ) is amazing SO MUCH FLUFF i die of happiness. keep up the lovely work 💕👌👌👌

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE KIND WORDS HOLY SMOKES!!!!!!!

Anon said:I love your art its so amazing.

Thank youuu ;u;

Anon said:I was just wondering if I could use one of your drawings of Kuroo as a phone background (just for personal use! It’s fine if you don’t want me too! I’m a huge fan and I hope you’re having a nice day~)

Sure! As long as it’s just for personal use I don’t mind at all!!

Anon said:Oh wow, thanks for the tutorial! I think it will be really helpful!

I’m glad to hear that!!!! :D

Anon said: what is the jock / nerd thing?

At this point it’s mostly a meme, I’d say haha

Anon said:ASDFGHJKL *-* Your art is to beautiful for the world

That’s!!!! Too kind of you oh man (〃´ﾉω`〃)

Anon said:Your kiri is so pretty.

THANK YOU!! Every Kiri is super pretty tho, it’s the intrinsic Kirishima-ness of the Kiris that makes them beautiful whatever style they’re drawn in! :O

Anon said:YOUR ZORA ITS SO GOOD I LOVE HIM AS MUCH AS YOU DO AND WHEN I SAW YOU DRAW HIM I WAS LIKE: a m a z i n g 💕💕💕

OH MAN THANK YOU I love that disaster of a trickster so much I’m glad I could make him come out okay ;O;

Anon said:so i left tumblr a while ago?? but i check back every so often bc ur pretty much my favorite tumblr artist ever

Aw man thank you so so so much this means the world to me! ;u; sometimes it’s hard for me to see any improvement in my own art so knowing that you can see it helps a lot!

Anon said:your art is literally my favourite thing in the entire world i love it all! i hope you’re having a good day and taking care of yourself! x

GOSH THANK U I hope you’re having the best day too, anon!!!!

Anon said:Asahi is so pretty when you draw him, I love it; my gentle son, in your amazing art style.

I’M!!!!!! Glad you liked him!!!!!!! That boy is 100% out of my comfort zone so knowing he came out okay is super nice!!!!! :D 

Anon said:The way I drew the bakusquad in that one set of images … They’re like … On the cover of Vogue or something. It’s aesthetically good to my eyes man. Also you kinda got me into tetsukami?? I don’t understand it at all but now im into it BC of ur fanart and bc of other fanart but Imma blame u and im grateful to have another ship to hyperfixate over. Anyway I love youu and your art man, i wish u many good days

Oh man I love you too anon this ask made me so happy???? And I’m especially happy I could get you into tetsukami! It doesn’t make much sense as a ship, does it? But they’d be fun interacting and their quirks work well together, so I have fun thinking about them! I hope they’ll interact in the classes 1a and 1b will have to share in the future! :D

Anon said:Oh I love your Noya’s, so glad you drew my boy again!:)

Thank you for liking him!!!!!! He’s hard to draw but I love him and he makes me happy!!! What a boy!!!

Anon said:Have you seen little noya in the newest chapter

I HAVE little boyo already had his blond hair how cute is that! The newest chapter made me really warm inside I really loved the whole speech Noya made ;u; my inspiring little lightning bolt !!

Anon said:I really really love your bnha art! But put some highlights on the kirabakus one, you probably have the quirk to melt my heart with them ;w;

That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever read!!!!! Thank you SO MUCH!!!!!! ;O;

Anon said:Who do you think would propose? Bakugo or Kirishima???

I actually answered a similar question a while ago! But I can’t find it so I guess to sum it up I mostly think at some point it’d just become something both of them have talked about throught the years enough times that by then it’ll just be something they are gonna do, sooner or later, and when it’ll happen it’ll be more like “we have a stable income and a house and a dog and a cat and are p much already married we should really do this already” - in a scenario like that either of the two works, for me haha

Anon said:the best thing was that I just a moment before u posted I felt bad and pissed ad sad, but then all that disappeared ;V;

I’m!!!!! So happy to know I could help you like that!!!! ;O;

Anon said:Can I just say, I’ve been following your art a long time (I’ve always loved it!) and I’ve really noticed a lot of growth and improvement in your style? The thing that always impresses me most is how you are able to take simplified facial features and make them SO expressive. You convey emotions so well and I love it so much. Thanks for always giving us art to smile about! Hope you are having a lovely day!

THANK YOU SO MUCH OH MY G OD!!!! I’m!!!!! crying!!!! probably!!!!!!! FrICK!!!! ;A;

Anon said:KINONOYA!!!!!!

INDEED!!!!! What a good relationship they have!!!!!

Anon said:You draw Sero so good oml he’s too pretty

Anon said:THAT SERO YOU DREW!!! *clutches heart* n i c e !!!!

;O; I’m glad you like him?????? gods!!!!

Anon said:I love the way you draw Kaminari, he looks beautiful in your art style! ^^

SOB you guys are all so nice to me I’m gonna cry for real here ;U; thank you!!!

Anon said:Whenever I’m sad I look at your art and everything feels better.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! happy I can help you with your mood!!!!!!!

Anon said:When you Kiri with his hair down, I’m always like “that’s it, that’s the cutest Kiri ever” and then you draw him with it spiked and I’m like “no wait, there it is, the cutest Kiri.” And now you go and give me both Kiri’s in that adorable pair of sketches and how is that even fair because how am I supposed to handle that? I can’t even decide anymore. All your kiris are the cutest Kiri.

THANK YOU !!!!!!!!! All Kiris are the cutest Kiris tho, aren’t they? What an inherently cute boy he is!!!

Anon said:i showed my friend your art and since we both find it super good, we both decided to try to draw more regularly because we want get better and get a smooth(? idk how to say it in english lmao) style like yours so thank you for the motivation/inspiration!!

:O !!!!!! I hope you and your friend will have fun while at it, anon!!!!! :D

Anon said:I love your bakushima

AND I LOVE YOU

Anon said:drawing ppl from above is so cool though!! i really like these kinda pics ✨ (esp bo and tetsu, so /cool/!!) dont give up, fran❤

Please don’t enable me anon, if you give me the green light I’m gonna keep on drawing that sorta angle forever hahahaha (thank u so much for the compliment, tho!!!!)

Anon said: ahhh i love your recent kiribaku drawings! they are so cool!!

That was about the red and teal ones, right? Thank you so much!!!! Working with colors like that isn’t something I do often, so I’m really really happy that you guys ended up liking them!!!

Anon said: Row! Row! Fight the power!!

I don’t know what brought this on but HECK YES

Anon said:Man I love all your art, fanart and OCs alike! And your BNHA is such an inspiration and one of the reasons I started writing fic. Have a great day!

OH BOY that’s such a nice thing to know!! I hope you’re having lotsa fun writing fics, anon!! And I also hope you’re having a great day, too!!!

Anon said:OK, i’m sorry for sounding this emotional, but OMG your art makes me cry. it’s just… so beautiful… *there i go again* *crying*

*hands u tissue* thank you so much but please don’t cry!!!!

Anon said:I’M CRYING LUCA’S BIRTHDAY IS THE DAY BEFORE MINE, I’M A PHYSICS MAJOR, A MAJOR DOG (and cat) PERSON, AS WELL AS A MORNING PERSON LIKE WH A T

You’re the second person that tells me they’re really similar to one of my ocs!!!! I wonder what that means? :O but it’s a fun thing to know, anyway!!! :D I hope you don’t mind Luca being so similar to you, anon haha

Anon said: What do you think would happen if eraserhead erased fatgum’s quirk?

He’d probably just lose his ability to absorb hits and then re-use their power? :? but if he’s fat he’s gonna stay fat and if he’s slim he’s gonna stay slim, I think :O

Anon said:Oh my god you know kekkai sensen I’m actually crying I love kekkai sensen but no one I know likes it/knows about it and aaaaaaa I love your art and you drew something from kekkai sensen and thats amazing!!!!

I’M GLAD YOU LIKED IT and I know right? Kkss has such a small fandom! Which to me is super weird considering how much following Trigun used to have? :O it’s definitely one of the best anime I’ve seen in recent times, tho!!!

Anon said:FRAAAANNNNNNNN!!!! I’m soo excited!! I might be getting a tote from your shop for Christmas! My friend asked what I wanted, so I looked at your store, and chose a tote with Mina, and Hagakure (?) And he told me to send him the link!

HOLY SMOKES THANK YOU FOR BUYING MY STUFF ANON THIS SERIOUSLY MEANS THE WORLD TO ME!!!!!!!

Anon said: Your art is so good! I especially love your black and white stuff! Its really punchy! Also all your Kiribaku content makes my heart melt!!!!!!

*gross sobbing* thank you so much!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:would it be okay…if i drew luca (giving credit to you tho obv) i just love him so much GOD

YES!!!!!! Please do link me to it if you do draw him, I wanna see!!!!! :D

Anon said:Hey! I really liked your OCs and i was especially intrigued by Max and Leo!! Do you mind telling us more about their relationship? They look so sweet!!! Love ya and keep being awesome!

Thank you so much for liking my kids!!!! ;O; and sadly I can’t tell you too much about them cause their story is a bit still up in the air as far as details go, but in general they used to be best friends back when they were kids, then the accident that gave Leo his scars happened and for reason they lost track of each other for a long while - they met again recently, tho! Leo’s been in love with Max since they were babies and being able to talk to him and interact with him again makes him incredibly happy/mushy/soft but also absurdly and unreasonably overprotective since he’s really, really scared of losing him again - Max… because of plot-related reasons hasn’t realized that Leo is the kid he used to know back when he was super young, so his falling in love with him happens as the story progresses. He finds the overprotectiveness silly and unecessary, but he doesn’t exactly mind it? He has a feeling it helps Leo more than it helps him, so he lets him do his thing. All in all, maybe Max takes more care of Leo than Leo of Max. Welp, their story is kind of a mess haha

Anon said:Have you ever thought about doing nsfw? Or at least something kinda hot?

This is actually answered in my faq! But yeah, no, I don’t do nsfw, sorry! Something kinda hot… maybe in the future? But I gotta be in a very specific mood that doesn’t come around too often, so I dunno if and when that’s gonna be!

[namariea]

Hello, Neighbor | V

Since moving in you have compiled a comprehensive list on your mysterious neighbor across the way.

Do Kyungsoo, otherwise known as Asian Bobby Flay and apparently Bruno Mars’ protégé.

Pairing: Kyungsoo x Reader

Words: 3.4 k

Genre: Fluff

Previous: I II III IV

The coffee shop by the apartment was bustling with life, the endless stream of customers eager to get their caffeine fix.

An easy jazz tune filled the gaps between the chatter in the room but tucked away in the back corner, no amount of smooth saxophone could ease the tenseness in your body. You hung your head in your hands over the table, silently having an existential crisis as the figure across from you hummed in contemplation.

“So let me get this straight….and feel free to stop me if I go astray” Seulgi started, her voice slightly wistful, paying almost no mind to your despair.

You grunted.

“For the past month that you have been living in your apartment, you have been having sporadic encounters with the guy living across from you”

Grunt.

“During that time, you thought nothing of those moments except for about two weeks ago when you apparently saw him looking … how was it you described it…. Ah, like Korean Adonis”

Your head slipped lower in your hands.

Grunt. “And since said moment, rather than simply asking the boy why he was dressed like some incubus you decided the logical path to take would be to just never look at him again. By keeping your curtains closed for the past two weeks in an attempt at avoiding him…”

…

“Are you an idiot?”

Slipping from your grasp, you let your forehead crash into the table with an audible thud. People around turned and glanced quizzically in your direction, but you paid them no mind, starting a rhythmic smashing of your face against the surface. You heard Seulgi give a forced, polite laugh and quietly apologize to the fellow patrons saying something along the lines of quarter life crisis, nothing to see here, terribly sorry. Groaning, you gave your forehead a couple more good thumps before looking up. You were immediately met with a blank face, but you knew she was secretly reveling in your pain.

You are surrounded by sadists.

“I really do not see what’s the problem here, from how you’re reacting he must have gone from 0 to 10 real quick”

You grumbled from your splayed position on the table

“That’s not true….”

“He was at least a 7 before that”

Seulgi gave you a dull look

“…8.6 at the most.”

Letting out a bored sigh and picking at the remnants of what was a blueberry muffin, she deliberated “So you have always had a hot neighbor, woo, good for you, but just because seeing him in something other than baggy workout clothes suddenly got you all hot and bothered-”

“Oi, I was not hot and bothered-”

“-as I was saying” she gave you a pointed look, not appreciating your interruption “now would be the prime time to be looking, no? Icarus loved the warmth of sun so what did he do? Boy got himself some wings to see it closer.”

“Leading him to fly too close, thus melting his wings and falling to his death.” you deadpanned.

She waved a dismissive hand, “Pah, that’s just the Grimm brother’s version"

“Seulgi, the Grimm brothers didn’t even- look” you sighed, finally sitting yourself up from the table.

“You’re right, I probably shouldn’t have avoided him for so long, but what else was I supposed to do? He looked so…” you trailed, hand waving in the air in search of a fitting word, not having to wait long as your impatient comrade offered after a beat,

“-bangin?”

“Wow. It is truly a wonder why you never took the literary route when we were in art school”

Seulgi scoffed, taking a sip from her coffee “I had the option of being active and dancing to my heart’s content or sitting on my butt all day taking notes about some dead guys poems, it was a no question”

“Regardless” she continued, “the reality of the matter is that you now know you have the hots for your beta-turned-alpha neighbor and you’re going to have to face him eventually, lest you move again”

She almost smacked you from across the table as you gave a thoughtful look. Looking at her watch she reached for her bag and began to stand, you reluctantly following suit, realizing your break was over and it was time to head back to the office.

“Don’t be such a coward. He’s just a guy, he won’t even be in the same room as you when you talk for crying out loud, not unless he decides to break through two panes of glass, leap 10 feet over and land in your apartment. Though seeing your behavior, I wouldn’t be surprised if he resorted to that”

“And just what exactly am I supposed to say if he asks where I’ve been?” You shook your head as you felt the start of a headache beginning behind your eyes.

If he even noticed my absence that is

“Well that’s your fault it dragged on this long, isn’t it” She replied flippantly, the both of you exited the shop and started walking towards the subway.

“But if you want my opinion, I’d highly suggest not revealing how you have hiding because you cant control your impure thoughts around him-”

“For God’s sake, I told you it’s not even like that -”

“Ohhhh” An arm came out in front of you to bring you to a halt on the sidewalk. Turning to you slowly, you saw the beginnings of a smile take form on your friends face.

A very scary smile. One that only appeared when she was about to suggest something really dumb.

You were getting bad ju-ju vibes.

“I know exactly what you should say, say that you had …company…over and didn’t want to be disturbed”

You blinked. Once. Twice.

Then you hit her over the head.

“He has never shown any interest in me, what am I supposed to gain from that?”

Not deterred from your violence, if anything her eyes lit up with mischief, she pressed on “nono, it’s great, it’s like in those dramas, you throw down the boyfriend card and he is suddenly drawn to you because your unobtainable” she actually let out a cackle.

“I’m saying this because you are my friend and I care about your well being,” you almost let out an appreciative awww, but alas, tender moments were never in your cards.

“But if I find out you haven’t emerged from your hermit hole by Wednesday, I’ll come over and get his attention myself” You began to protest but she wasn’t hearing any of it “whether or not you listen to my advice is up to you, but so help me if I don’t get some juicy update by Wednesday I’ll take matters into my own hands”

Sadists, I say

You were walking past the living room one day when you heard a sharp yowl from the window.

Pausing on your way to the kitchen, you cast a tentative glance towards the cat perched on the windowsill, figure hidden by the curtain. You listened carefully, thinking that maybe she got her claws tangled in the fabric of the curtain again. The first time that had happened you calmly approached her with the full intention of relieving her from her cloth prison, as any caring owner would do. However, it would appear the frightened lump of fur was so lost in her terror, clearly thinking that this was the end, that she mistook your hand for that of the curtain God’s there to take her away. She then proceeded to bite and scratch anything she could get her stubby hands on.

Two and a half hours in an emergency waiting room later, you were being stabbed by multiple needles and given three beautiful stitches on your right hand. The freeloader didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed when you got back.

Since then you have always made sure she was fully aware of your presence before doing anything to help, for both her safety and yours. But secretly you were also still bitter about the first incident that you wanted to watch her struggle and realize her folly.

That’ll show her that the one with the opposable thumbs is the boss around here.

Another yowl came from behind the curtain and you made your way over, rolling up your sleeves in preparation.

“Missed me that much huh?”

You stopped mid-step, hand halting in pushing up your sleeve. The smooth baritone carried to your ears and you couldn’t stop the nervous stutter your heart gave in response. You were not ready for this confrontation, it wasn’t even Wednesday yet. Your palms began to sweat, not knowing how to proceed, however the voice was oblivious to your presence, and carried on.

“Looks like it’s just you and me again, Miss Mimi. Are you sure your owner hasn’t left you for some other stray?”

Meow.

There was an easy laugh in response, “Well hopefully despite wherever she has run off to she has you looked after, I wouldn’t want to have to pull some mission impossible stunt and save you”

Your eyes widened in horror as Seulgi’s words from the other day echoed in your mind. There was absolutely no way he was serious, you knew this, but just the thought of him being in your apartment set your mind into a frenzy.

You heard a phone ringing in the distance, “Ah, I’ll have to cut this short today, Mi. Say Hi for me the next time you see her, ok?”

Meow.

The silence that followed indicated that he had indeed left his spot at the window and you let out a shuttering breath. A million thoughts were swirling in your mind, so he did wonder where you’ve been. Granted, he said it because he wanted to know Mimi wasn’t going to starve, but it was still indirectly about you nonetheless. He also said he had to cut it short today, just how often does this man sit there talking to your cat? You try to think, but you were positive you’ve never heard him before today.

The nudge to your leg had you looking down, staring into bright cerulean eyes.

“You’re either the best or worst wingman ever”

She purred in response.

Eyes cracked open tiredly, blearily staring at the ceiling you blinked until your vision cleared.

Noting the lack of sunlight, you rolled over and pressed the home button on your phone, the harsh light making you squint in annoyance.

5:33 AM glared back at you and a groan highly resembling a beached whale emitted from your throat. Knowing there was no way the remaining hour before your alarm went off will be spent sleeping, you begrudgingly rolled out of bed.

Today was Wednesday. The thought came to you as you stirred creamer into your coffee, throwing a wary eye towards the closed curtains in your living room. Oh, how easy it would be to just keep them closed for all eternity… it wasn’t like you were some houseplant that needed sunlight for photosynthesis anyways. But you knew deep down that you would have to face the inevitable, because even though you loathed awkward situations with a burning passion, you feared the wrath of the brunette waiting for a reply today much more.

Best not tempt the fates today.

Cautiously you approached the curtains, suddenly feeling a strong sense of trepidation.

Oh square up you pathetic f-

You pulled back one of the white curtains with gusto, coffee in hand and eyes shut in anticipation. Cracking an eye open, you almost let out a victorious laugh, as you were met with dark curtains blocking your view from the apartment across.

Well…that wasn’t half bad.

You took this time to take in the view you had for the first time in two weeks. It really makes the room look a lot nicer, you mused, glancing back and watching the rising sun trickle in and brighten the living room. You almost felt foolish for your behavior, it was your house for Pete’s sake, you shouldn’t be letting one encounter prevent you from living your life as you wished.

Berating yourself, remembering your inner dilemma weeks ago that you knew nothing of the dark-haired male that lived in the other apartment. You owed each other nothing and if you didn’t want to interact with the man all you had to do was not talk to him, it wasn’t like the conversation was mandatory every time you saw him, you weren’t friends.

But you want to have those conversations, don’t you? Wouldn’t mind getting all buddy-buddy with Mr. Mysterious.

Your left eye twitched in annoyance as your heart and mind continued to have heated debate over what if’s. Once your coffee had gone cold and barely half finished, you were no closer to coming to a decision on how you were going to interact with your neighbor whenever you saw him again. Making the decision to get ready for work earlier than usual, you did so for no other reason than not wishing to be in this apartment any longer.

Picking up the keys off of the coffee table, as you made your way towards the door an hour ahead of schedule you missed the site of a familiar pair dark curtains pulled back.

Once you returned to your apartment the sun had almost set in the sky.

Not only had you arrived earlier to work that day, you had unconsciously stayed later than usual as well.

You thought nothing about it until Seulgi found you in your office, typing away at your computer.

She all but forced you out of the building, raging to herself about I don’t care if it’s not politically correct in 2017, but you need to grow a pair and man up, woman.

In all honestly it was not your intention to stay late, you were so caught up in your work that you simply lost track of time.

It was not until Seulgi found you that you realized what may or may not be waiting for you when you arrived home.

Having left your curtains pulled back, it was highly likely that you would encounter the other when you got back, and you still hadn’t figured out what you were going to say to him.

Deciding to wing it as you approached your door, as you unlocked it and stepped into the hallway you took a long, meditative breath.

Here goes nothing.

You started by walking to the light switches in your hallway and in one fluid motion, your living room was illuminated.

If you were going to do this, you weren’t going to do it as a coward.

You had, as a wise woman once said, grown a pair and manned up.

Not entering the lit-up room just yet, you instead walked back to the bedroom and changed out of your work clothes, wishing for nothing more than to get out of the business casual attire you were confined in all day.

Slipping on a baseball tee and some shorts you took your laptop out of your bag and padded towards the kitchen.

Since the kitchen and living room were situated in an open concept you had no choice but to eventually face the kitchen, however you busied yourself with dinner first, as your stomach was making itself known.

Whipping up a quick meal that you found on your laptop, you hummed as you worked, mindlessly bopping to the music that you had playing in the background.

Once you finished cooking you walked to the cabinet and refilled Mimi’s bowl before taking your culinary creation to the small dining table.

While watching an episode of your favourite drama you finished off your dinner and did the dishes. Returning back to the table to retrieve your laptop, you had intended to finish the remainder of the episode.

Meow.

You swore that cat was out to get you.

You stopped midway from picking up your laptop and glanced over at your cat who was sitting on the windowsill.

Not alone.

You stared at the man in the distance and though you couldn’t properly see him, you nevertheless lent forward and offered a polite bow.

He returned the gesture and you took a deep breath.

Showtime.

You began to make your way over to the window, closing the laptop and tucking it under your arm as you gave the man before you your undivided attention.

“I’m sure she has told you all of my deepest darkest secrets by this point,” you started, throwing a suspicious look at the furry mass by your hip “there isn’t a loyal bone in her body.”

The man smiled and let out a chuckle, “She has been talking about you in great detail I’m afraid”

“Just bad things, I presume”

“Only the worst” he offered a secretive smirk and you snorted.

“Speaking of the worst, I was afraid that the paint fumes had done you in” setting your laptop down you paused at his words and your mind went into overdrive thinking about how you were going to respond.

Briefly you wondered back to your friend’s advice, wondering if you should lie and make up some outlandish story.

Deciding that living a life of treachery was not something that tickled your fancy, you looked up in response.

“Ah, almost, I must have breathed in too many fumes, I was quite sick so I was out of commission for the last while” that wasn’t a whole lie, you were feeling oddly sick, just that it was most definitely not from paint fumes.

But like hell you were going to let him know that.

He let out a hum and nodded his head, apparently accepting your answer, but his eyebrows then furrowed.

“But you’re fine now, right?” he looked cute, worrying over you like a mother hen.

You gave him a grateful smile, waving your hand dismissively.

“It’s going to take more than paint fumes and bad ramen to do me in, fear not good sir”

“Besides, I need to see if SooJin wakes up from her coma and realizes that Joonwoo-“

“-is actually the man that saved her from the burning building when she was a child and that he is being swindled by her uncle who wants to take over the company?” you blinked at the excited look the boy gave you, who was nodding his head eagerly, hands animatedly waving as he spoke.

“….you watch soap operas?” You couldn’t believe the usually reserved man was actually gushing about a daytime drama.

Eat it, Seulgi, you uncultured swine. I told you it was an art.

“Well I’m never home to watch them when they air, but I usually stream them when I get the chance.

I dislocated my ankle really bad a few months ago and was put on home arrest, it was the only thing on at the time and I’ve been hooked ever since” He let out a sheepish laugh as his shoulders shrugged indifferently.

You let out a loud laugh and he seemed startled by the sound, but you weren’t paying attention to him anymore as tears began to well up in your eyes.

You started to shake as giggles bubbled from your throat, needing your hand to brace on the windowsill, not being able to stand straight.

“I can’t…believe…this…is happening…” You could barely breathe, “-looks are definitely deceiving” You commented, sending him a sly smile, eyebrows wiggling.

His face suddenly was dusted with a stunning shade of pink and you wanted nothing more than to squish his cheeks together.

Too precious

He began to mutter something about being totally manly and how it was good study material.

You started to come down from your hysteria but the smile never left your face.

“It’s ok, it will be our little secret, neighbor. But really,” you leaned in conspicuously, as if you were discussing something top secret.

“What do you think Soojin’s next move will be once she wakes up?”

From that moment on you managed to entice him into a totally manly conversation about plot holes and never-ending character resurrections.

Much like work, you were so lost in the conversation, completely forgetting about the awkwardness that you were supposed to be feeling, that you lost track of the hours passing as the two of you talked. The conversation drifted from daytime dramas, settling on mindless chatter that left you with bits of information about the man before you that you never knew you wanted to know.

All the while a wide smile adorned both of your faces.

Chapter VI

[oshietee]

Do you have any miyusawa head canons or AUs? I really love your art and I love how you keep the miyusawa tag alive and I'd love to write something for you!!

Hi Anon!! Thank you aAAA its my pleasure to contribute to the miyusawa tag!!! tho im so late to this fandom

I have A LOT of headcanons and AUs akdjfk (im not eloquent enough but I’ll try my best below the cut!)

BUT ALSO OH MY GOD IF U DO END UP WRITING SMTH LET ME TELL U THAT ILL CRASH INTO UR WINDOW N SMOOCH UR FACE IM LOVE U

About the headcanons, I p much headcanon the same thing as the miyusawa fandom LOL but i have my most fav ones!!!:

eijun has a great voice and everyone’s surprised about it bc huh this kid’s voice is really nice to listen to if he tries but no his voice is always nice fight me

eijun is a history nerd and he reads A LOT , not only shoujo manga

miyuki spoils eijun bc he’s a smitten bastard

As for the AUs, this is going to be sort of long because I HAVE SO MANY AUS BC I TRY TO STICK MIYUSAWA IN EVERYTHING I SEE KJDSFGJ

Hogwarts!AU:

where Eijun is ofc a Gryffindor and Miyuki is a Slytherin, i mean miyusawa in rival houses???? SIGN ME UP (i want to elaborate more on this but i have no idea where to start)

College!AUs:

where they do a bunch of stupid stuff with everyone and they have been mutually pining on each other since high school, college!aus are the best aus for crack but also them rooming w each other and being domestic;

I also once read this fic where Miyuki was in college studying to be a doctor and It hasnt Left My Mind since, ALSO Eijun as a literature student bc why not

also ive been thinking about Photography!Student Miyuki and eijun modeling for him for a project 

SPIDEYPOOL AU:

Miyuki IS the perfect deadpool I mean he’d annoy Eijun to no ends but also, to be perfectly honest, I hadnt thought much about this AU, yet, but imagine:

a college!au where they dont know each other:: There’s a halloween party and eijun decides to dress up as spiderman and while he’s in the party, he gets separated from harucchi n the others and he bumps into this dude who’s dressed up as deadpool AND SHIT OCCURS and the night basically ends w them hanging out annoying each other (miyuki) and (the whole time they have their masks on!!) and the party ends w them forgetting to ask each others’ name and IDK WHERE IM GOING W THIS BUT  they somehow meet again thru a mutual friend (probably mochi) and them crushing on each other BUT NOT KNOWING THAT !!!! EIJUN WAS THAT ONE GUY DRESSED UP AS SPIDERMAN W THE GREAT BUTT!! AND MIYUKI THE ANNOYING GUY WHO KEPT ON TRYING TO GET ON HIS NERVES BUT WAS REALLY FUN TO BE WITH!! AND just its like miraculous lady bug but not quite??? what am i saying smh

Tangled!AU:

LET ME TELL YOU THAT TANGLED WAS WRITTEN FOR MIYUSAWA I MEAN,, ,  ,, , , ,, MIYUKI AS EUGENE?!!??!?! AND EIJUN,, , , , ,, having golden hair at first but near the end where Miyuki cuts his hair so that his stepmother wouldnt be able to use him anymore, ,,  THAT PART WHERE EUGENE/MIYUKI IS DYING AND HE CRIES , , ,!! CAN U IMAGINE HIS GOLDEN EYES HEY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Zootopia!AU:

miyuki=nick,eijun=judy, thats all

Mermaid!AU:

I hadnt tweeted about this but i have a bunch of sketches on my notebook waiting to be properly drawn on my laptop lol. Mermaid Eijun and Prince Miyuki for The little mermaid au but a normal mermaid au would work too i mean,, miyuki walking along the shore to brood and he catches a sight of smth gold and shiny in the sea and surprise its a mermaid

FOR NOW THAT’S ALL i’m sorry i couldnt elaborate more on these I tried really hard to be articulate but lmao guess how that went

I hope you liked reading all the stuff I wrote!!! Talk SCREAM to me about miyusawa in twitter if u like :D

[thebadeepieflock-blog]

Things most pet shops don’t tell you about parrots.

Parrots make wonderful pets, that is very true. Treated right, they can be loving, sweet, affectionate little babies who never fully grow up it seems. They'll always be happy to see you come home, excitedly wait for your time together and provide you with a loving, long term companion for 30+ years with some species. HOWEVER, there is a lot more to all the wonderful feathered love than just the positive. I have 6 wonderful parrots myself. Lucia, my soon to be 8 year old sun conure, Yamato, my 9 year old quaker parrot, Nero, my 1 1/2 year old yellow sided green cheek conure, Virginia, my year old love bird, Cassandra, my 1 1/2 year old cockatiel then there's Mango, my fiance's 2 1/2 year old lovebird. Though they vary in age, have been cared for the same way yet they have VERY different personalities, quirks and troubles. In this post I will share with you some of the things you may face that pet shops don't warn you about and only experience can really teach, but hey, knowing about these things ahead of time never hurts when it comes to preparing yourself. Keep in mind, there is no way I can cover everything but I can at least cover some things. Also, you'll only see Lucia and Yamato mentioned in this post as I only had those two at the time I originally typed this. --Poop issues: We all know birds poop just like any animal but what you may not know is that some parrots don't just stand on a perch and do their business, oh no, some have some very particular habits attached to this common bodily function. Things I have noticed are varied and each bird's habits can be very different. Lucia has a habit of holding it in when she sleeps or if she's perched on my shoulder. I never taught her this, I was more than willing to accept the fact that poop happens when you have a bird and, sometimes, it happens on you. Well, this little conure  will hold in her dumps for a while and then, when she can't hold it anymore, out comes this massive, two tablespoons sized dropping, or what I call her megaton sh**. When she's on me I'll bring her to her cage once in a while so she can poop without holding it however, it's when she first wakes up in the morning that it can be an issue. If you take her out before she's taken that morning poop, well, she's going to try to get it out before she gets on your shoulder. The unfortunate side effect of this habit of hers, however, is that the massive morning poo sometimes ends up splattered on the floor, and trust me, that thing splatters, or, as my fiance' was unlucky enough to find out, on your foot. Lucia has had this habit for a long while, she first started doing it at about 4 months and never stopped so, for me, it's no longer a surprise, for others however, well, the poop meets foot occurrence says it all. My answer to this problem? She doesn't come right out of her cage in the morning, I give her ten minutes to do what she has to do THEN I take her out. Then there's Yamato. You've heard of parrots tossing seeds out their cage? Well Yama (Short name for him) poops out his cage. I've tried to stop him from doing it but now he'll just wait until my back is turned and do it anyways. He will literally cling to the side of his cage, push his butt against it and poop right out the side of his cage. Only way to take care of that is by cleaning around his cage with a wet mop, thankfully the one we have cuts through his poo pretty well. These are the two quirks Ive encountered personally but I've heard of parrots using a single toy as a toilet, pooping in their water or food dish all the time (That isn't common, most parrots like their food dish clean, water dish, it's hit and miss) and even parrots who try to eat or play with their poop (Normally a sign of a health issue, if your parrot does that get them to the vet). So yea, poop habits can be an issue depending on the parrot. --Seed and veggies everywhere! The old throwing food all over habit. In my household, thankfully, only one of my feathered babies causes that huge food mess. Yamato keeps his food pretty contained, a shell will fly out the cage from time to time but overall he's neat with his digging through his food dish. However, the big culprit of the food mess all over is Lucia. She will rummage through her dish violently and throw food all over the place, push it through the bars of her cage and purposely drop it on the floor and even fling it at people just because it amuses her. Your best bet to take care of this issue is a good vacuum (I suggest a shop/wet vac) with a hose. You can try those cage skirts to keep the food in the cage, you can try deep food dishes but if a parrot wants that food to go on the floor, it's going on that floor one way or another. You can try to train them out of it but, depending on the parrot, they'll just wait until you're not looking then fling a seed at the back of your head like Lucia's done to me after trying to teach her to not make the food mess. Gotta know how to pick your battles. --Om Nom EVERYTHING! Here it's Yamato who's the little saint bird. Lucia, however, will chew ANYTHING! Can her beak grasp it? It's getting chewed. Is it shiny? It's getting chewed. Is it near her? It's getting chewed. Let me tell you, when a parrot chews something, they can totally destroy it. Due to it she has a large number of chewing toys in her cage, which don't last long, so she can get it out her system before she gets a hold of things outside the cage. It doesn't always work. Only way to deal with this issue is to watch any parrot outside of the cage and, if they start to chew on something, stop them and tell them no. Over time they will associate the word no with you stopping them from chewing on something. The way I've found to stop Lucia when she chews on something is to get my hand between her and what she's chewing and push her away from it. She doesn't like that but it doesn't hurt her so she associates the discomfort of being pushed back with being told no and will stop chewing on something when I tell her no to avoid that uncomfortable push back. . .most of the time. She does have her own will and sometimes she really wants at something just a no won't stop her so I have to push her back again. --Biting and beaking Every bird bites, no matter how tame, how sweet and how gentle, every bird is, sooner or later going to give someone a bite. However, there are warning bites and bites that mean business. Most gentle birds never get beyond a warning bite, an uncomfortable, skin denting message that can cause some blood to be drawn but is never anything serious. When a bird does this they are giving you a very clear warning, either they are scared, you did something they didn't like, you hurt them a bit but not too serious, you're in their territory and they want you out of it or they're just in a cranky mood. You can minimize the occurrence of this kind of bite but you can never truly train any bird out of it. Most of the bites that come from parrots are this kind of bite, trust me, that beak can do a lot more damage than what the parrot has chosen to inflict. Then there's the serious bites. You WILL know if a parrot delivers one of these because you will have to go get stitched up by a doctor, they can and often do go to the bone with these major bites and some parrots have been known to right out break smaller bones. I have only ever experienced one serious bite in my 17 years of keeping birds of many different types and that bite came not from one of my birds but from one I was fostering. The one that gave me that bad bite was a sulfur crested cockatoo and, apparently, dyeing my hair made me look like someone who had abused her. She was fine with me then I dyed my hair a different color and got a serious bite that went right to the bone. I avoided stitches because she only got me with the tip of the beak and not a side which would have caused a longer puncture so I just had to keep my thumb well bandaged for about two weeks while it healed. These serious bites are very rare with what most call tamed birds, the ones you can handle but, like what happened with that foster, they can occur, doesn't mean they ever will but it is a risk you must accept. With Lucia and Yamato, surprisingly, Lucia is the only one who has given someone a serious bite. She didn't truly bite me but she has really bitten two others. It's rare for her to seriously bite anyone, most people she likes but those two shared a personality trait she didn't like: They were higher energy and somewhat louder than average young males. Just a type of person she doesn't like it seems. She's also a lot fonder of women than she is of men with me being the only exception, any other guy that comes near her I warn because they are at a much higher risk of getting a bad bite. Yamato has never given anyone a serious bite but he gives warning bites to anyone and everyone for any reason under the sun, even just because he wants to before laughing at their reaction to the pinch. So yea, bites will happen, they may be common or they may be rare but if you have a parrot, sooner or later you're going to get some kind of bite. Thankfully most parrot lovers never experience anything worse than a warning bite from their feathered family member but that doesn't mean it can't happen. Then there's what's called beaking. This is when a parrot will right out grab your finger, beak around it with a little pressure and use it to keep themselves stable as they step onto your hand. So many people mistake beaking for a bite because it isn't the most comfortable thing and can hurt a little but it doesn't really cause any blood unless the beak is way, WAY too sharp. This is just how a parrot keeps themselves stable on a moving, unstable surface like your hand. Some parrots also beak you when they're playing, Lucia does this to me all the time because she likes to "wrestle" with my hand where she grabs my fingers, rolls onto her back and tries to keep my fingers in her grasp as I try to squirm them free. It's a fun game for her but leaves my fingers a bit sore. But it's worth it to play with her. Any parrot owner must get use to beaking and learn to tell it apart from warning bites because beaking will happen and it will happen commonly. Too many good parrots get the label of "Biter" because the humans don't know the difference between the two. --Scream and Screech Most people have heard it before but I will say it again: Parrots can be very, very loud. Every parrot and most birds in general will get especially loud during certain times of the day called "flock call times". This is when they call out to the other members of their flock, human or otherwise, and listen for a reply to make sure all members of their flock are alright. If they don't get a reply many of them will get even louder. I have made it a habit to go into the room when they start to flock call so they know I'm alright and I'm showing them I'm checking to be sure they are alright. You can't avoid the noise, you can teach a parrot not to scream so much but it is still going to happen. Just get use to it, it's natural for them and it's how they talk. Also, don't yell back at them, yelling makes them scream louder and get into contests to show you who can be the loudest, not something that's going to help you get back comfortable noise levels in your house. Also, don't cater to their screaming. It'll teach them that screaming lets them get what they want and that is not a habit you want them to get into. Flock call time is one thing in the morning and evening, that's going to happen anyways but other times the best thing you can do is either not respond to the screaming or calmly talk to them. Parrots will scream to alert you to a danger or problem so checking on them isn't a bad idea just make sure not to treat them in any way for that screaming. --Parrots are very sensitive I'm not talking emotionally here, though some are emotionally sensitive too. I'm talking about sensitivity to their environment. Fumes, high levels of smoke, nail products, hair products, air fresheners, non-stick cook ware, scented candles, cleaning products, body spray, anything that puts particles into the air is a risk for feathered family members. I am a former smoker myself and I always tried to keep my smoke away from my baby birds back when I smoked. I would not smoke when they are on me, I would not smoke in the room that I keep them in at the time (the living room) all that. We use natural cleaning products for the safety of the birds, body spray is used in a different room well away from them that gets aired out somewhat commonly, we are careful with our cookware and air out the kitchen when we use it. We do many small things like that which help keep the baby birds safe. Then there's natural factors, like temperature and drafts. You do not want to put a parrot near a drafty window or door because they will get sick very easily. The reason for this is due to a need for pretty stable temperatures. Rapidly fluctuating temperatures will weaken a parrot's immune system dangerously and very quickly. Try your best to keep the temperature as steady as you can in the home, they are comfy in the same temperature range as you are. If it is too warm or cold for you then it is too warm or cold for them but unlike you who will likely be alright with a little chill or sweating your parrot could easily get sick from it. --MINE! Parrots can be possessive. Some get aggressive when someone comes near their favorite thing or person, others are just watchful to make sure said thing or person isn't hurt or taken from them. It varies by parrot personality. Those that get aggressively possessive normally do require some attitude adjustment and the only way to do that is to be willing to chance a few bites to show them that, no, you AREN'T going to stay away from something or someone just because they claimed it. I had this issue with Yamato and his cage. Oh he use to hate me putting my hand in his cage no matter if he was in it or not and he would lunge at me to the point of flying over to make his point clear with that beak. What did I do when he did this? I would put my hand right in his cage anyways, setting it right on his perch and just dare him to bite me. Trust me, I got a few nips from him doing this and he got scorned for each and every warning bite but eventually he realized he wasn't going to win that battle. Now I can reach right into his cage and pet him while he's in there without too much trouble unless he's in a bad mood but with Yamato, bad moods happen. The key to breaking those aggressive habit of possession is to go near and touch what or who they're possessive of anyways. The reason why is because parrots will try to show some dominance, especially parrots with flock leader personalities like Yamato has. If you let into these habits they will think that they have more power in the flock than you do (And trust me, they DO see you as a flock member) and they will keep doing things like that and not listen to you. You have to show them that you are the flock leader, not them. This is done by pretty much right out defying any attempt at authority that the parrot shows to you. They will nip and sometimes right out bite you in a last attempt to make you do what they want but when you still defy them, most of the time they will back down. That brings me to my next point. --It's still a flock to them You may not have flight or feathers but, to any parrot you live with, you are a flock member. Even if they don't like you, you are still a flock member and, for a parrot, that's family. Most people don't realize that the chain of command for a flock does exist but it is different for different types of birds. I've had two sun conures and known others with them, sun conures tend to have a very lax chain of command in the flock where they all have pretty much equal say. Because of this you don't often find a sun conure with a huge flock leader ego though it can happen it really isn't common. I've also dealt with a few other types of parrots, cockatiels, who have a slightly stricter but not too strict flock chain of command, black capped conures who, like the sun conure, have a very lax chain of command, etc. However I did not know that quaker parrots have a rather strict chain of command when I got Yamato. More so, I had no idea Yamato was going to grow up to have a flock leader personality meaning he is constantly challenging me for the place of head honcho in the house. He's already made the lady of the house back down from him so needless to say he sees himself as higher on the chain of command than she is and that won't change until she stops being scared of this little three and a half ounce bird. Sure she is fine when he's in his cage and can't get her but the moment he is out that cage and looks like he may bite she gets jumpy. I am constantly getting nipped and lunged at by Yamato for any and every reason because he thinks he'll finally make me back down, then he finds out it just makes me grasp his beak so he can't bite at all and he gets a stern talking to. Much of his aggression comes from him having that flock leader ego problem, once he's reminded of his place in the flock though he settles down and starts acting sweet again, at least for a month or so. Most flock leader personality parrots end up being rehomed many times, they tend to be the parrots that you just can't get to stop biting no matter what you try. If you end up getting a flock leader you have to approach them differently. They can be sweet, loving parrots, they just have a bit of an ego issue and need to be reminded that they aren't the head of your roost from time to time. Yamato loves to clean me and get kisses and rubbed behind the head when he's not trying to challenge me for leadership and, if I'm sick, he instantly gets protective of me and more attentive because I'm still a member of his flock so yes, the flock leader ego birds can be great feathered babies, you just have to learn how to handle them. Due to parrots having this flock mentality you don't just have to worry about the rare flock leader ego bird, if something happens to you they will worry and if they lose you they will be crushed. Naturally their flocks are larger normally but in a home setting those flocks tend to be much smaller so they get much, MUCH more attached to their flock members. You can't ignore them, they need your attention so they don't get lonely and they need to know you're alright or else they will get worried and a worried parrot can stop eating and, if it goes on too long, start plucking themselves. A lot of people think just getting them a companion, another parrot, will help with that but that isn't always the case. Another feathered friend can help their loneliness even if in different cages but it won't stop them from worrying about you. All the more reason to take care of yourself for your flock's sake. --Those wings aren't just for decoration Do not keep your parrot in the cage all the time, it is not healthy for them mentally or physically. Those wings need to be used even if they are clipped (I personally am against wing clipping but I can understand the need in some situations) because it gets the blood pumping and keeps your parrot in shape. Flying is good for their health, strengthens their heart and respiratory system, stops them from getting overweight and is really good for their mood. Even if their wings are clipped just having the space to flap them is good for every parrot. Yamato loves to fly and I'll tell you, when he takes off he's like a little green bullet. I actually can't keep visual track of him when he's flying around the house due to my extremely low vision but I can hear him and hear how fast he's moving. One moment he'll be close enough to see just a green blur of next moment I see nothing but hear those wings all the way across the room. Birds love to fly most of the time, it's just in their nature. Also, those worried about my ability to keep track of Yamato when he's flying due to my vision, don't be concerned, I always have someone who's fully sighted in the room with us when Yamato is out of his cage so they can keep visual track of him while I listen for where he is so he's well watched after. Lucia, however, flies with all the grace of a drunken paper airplane. She's a very awkward flier which is odd for a sun conure. The reason why, however, is because her breeder was a dumbass who clipped her wings too short and damaged the cuticle where her flight feathers grow from. Her breeder also did a number of other stupid things including force weaning, machine feeding too hot of a food which caused Lucia to have crop burn and selling them too young. That breeder has since been shut down, I saw to that when I found out how bad of shape Lucia was in when I got her and got in contact with every organization and animal protection branch I could to get the guy investigated so there's one less horrid breeder out there. Due to her wings having been clipped wrong as a chick, however, Lucia's flight feathers will never grow in right even though she has still learned how to fly despite this. She may be a slow flier and prefer to walk and be carried because of it but we do encourage her to fly for the physical benefits. We just have to be careful with her because she is a special needs parrot due to what happened when she was a chick. (Footnote: Those wondering why I'm against wing clipping, it's because flight is a parrot's natural defense. Taking that from them can raise their anxiety levels unhealthily and can make a parrot very, very jumpy knowing that, if something happens they can't escape under their own power. Also, improper clipping can cause many issues such as cuticle damage, which happened to Lucia, and cutting the flight feathers too short making any fall a dangerous one. Even though I have a parrot (Yamato) who is a flight risk I won't clip their wings, instead I take greater responsibility and make sure they can't escape through a door or window or anything like that by being sure those exits are not opened while they are out. A little extra personal responsibility can go a long way to keep even a flight risk parrot safe. That said, I can understand for those who have kids which can open the door without warning why clipping wings can be a logical option for you but make sure it's done right and the parrot can still lighten their fall just in case. Also, if you do clip wings make sure any other pets are not able to get near your parrot when they are out, as I said, clipping the wings takes away their greatest defense and I HAVE heard of people who's sweet dog that had never shown aggression to their parrot or any other animal or person before decided to just take their beloved bird out with one bite and no warning.) --Bird Brain isn't as much of an insult as you may have thought Parrots can be extremely clever and can have a huge personality in those little bodies. Some birds take sport in trying to outsmart their human flock members, my little Yamato is one of them. This tends to be more of an amusing quirk than a bothersome one most of the time but there are some times when it can spell trouble, especially if your parrot's version of the game is to be a little escape artist. We had this issue with Yamato for a little while. No matter the type of lock or how we secured it this little green bird would find a way out and come right to us all proud of himself for it. It was cute but we knew it was also dangerous. Our answer to this issue was a spring loaded latch style cage, one that takes us some effort to open this way, even though Yamato knows how the latch works he just doesn't have the strength in that little three and a half ounce body to work the darned thing, doesn't mean he doesn't still try from time to time but we know he can't open it if it takes us some strength to lift that latch. You can get the most complex latch possible which may just be more fun for them to undo but it normally takes something they just can't physically operate to stop the escape artist in their tracks. They will also use those clever little brains to figure out how to get what they want, be it by manipulating you or by distracting you so they can just grab it. Yamato once teamed up with another pet to get my ex-boyfriend, and still good friend's, hot dog bun and succeeded. Lucia has been known to wait patiently until you turn your head to steal something from your plate or hand even though she showed no interest in it before thus giving you no reason to feel like you had to guard it. They also wise up to tricks you use to get them to do what you want. Sometimes they will start training YOU and it is your job to recognize this when it happens. Sometimes it's really harmless and amusing antics but once in a while it can become a bit of a problem. As the human and, hopefully, flock leader, it's your job to recognize when it is a problem and address it. Then again sometimes their cleverness, like dismantling a toy and begging you to put it back together, can be pretty endearing. That little game is akin to to when you give them a problem, like a hard shelled nut or foraging toy, and they have to figure out the solution. You putting the toy back together is the same thing. --Watch what they eat I won't post a full list in this post but there are some things parrots really shouldn't have. Avocados are the big one, they are very toxic to parrots and even tiny amounts can kill! A bite of avocado to a parrot is like a swig of pure arsenic to a human so keep them away from avocados at all costs. I personally love avocados but I never, NEVER have my babies out when I eat it, I store it in a bag in a separate area of the fridge from their veggies and I clean my lips, rinse out my mouth and clean my hands to the point they get a bit red after eating any avocado just to keep them safe. They should also be kept away from chocolate, dairy (Some parrots have a tiny bit of cheese from time to time but it has to be a very small amount and very rarely) non-fruit sugars, seasonings and a number of other things. I just wanted to make sure to warn about avocados because that is perhaps one of the biggest food danger to any parrot. ----------- These are just some of the little things pet shops don't warn you about when you take home a parrot but hopefully these little tips and warnings will help you decide if a parrot is a good match for you and, if you already have a parrot and are at a loss maybe it'll help you to know you are not alone in both the good and the bad. These little feathered babies are great, loving pets if treated right. Got questions? Even if silly or you think it's stupid, ask away. You would be surprised how many seemingly unimportant things can actually be pretty significant in the end. Even if the question is just out of pure curiosity.        

[billweaslys]

im just so sad like i thought he was the one !!!!! i was in love w him for years n it didnt work out n that sucks !!!!! n we broke up 4 months ago but im so shitty at processing my FKIN emotions !! and sooooo much abt him was so great he is one of the best people i know hes amazing n i loved him n i care about him still so much but it wasnt right !!! we werent right for each other! n he blames me but that was the situation !! but what if he is right? what if i just gave up and didnt give enough and didnt compromise enough n ive wasted a good thing ? n im moving to another city on the other side of the world in a month n in my head im just picturing me meeting someone n them being perfect n finding my soulmate but .. like im still me? i consistently fuck up any kidn of possible relationship like its my fkin JOB n thats not going to change just bcos im in another country. i always go for guys that are so nice but just ... not exciting? enough for me. guys that are aloof and quiet n i get drawn in by the mystery but then it just turns out theyre pretty quiet guys n then i get bored n then i feel bad bcos theyre lovely and genuine n care abt me and im just the bitch who dumps them cos theyre ‘too nice’ when its my own fault for not seeing the situation and them as they actually were. i just want someone who is fun !! really fun who makes me laugh my butt off an d makes everything funner n brighter but i always go for these broody boys who are way too emotional for me n then freak out and put us both through a load of pointless sadness n stress. i just feel like i never actualyl know what im feeling. either in the moment or after . i feel like i just make up my feelings and lie to myself and other people n i dont know what my actual genuine emotions about anything are. like my only feelings are yes and no. either i like somehting n its good or i just feel nope n dont wanna. im like a child. n ill just stop feeling a situation n i dont know why and i dont know if i genuinely dont like the situation or i just freak out n get scared. like did i actually want to break up with tom bcos it wasnt right or did i just get scared of the idea of deep feelings n responsibility n bolt. n EVEN IF i was right n im jsust overthinking it all now, how do i stop worrying about him so much. he was dealing with a lot of shit and i just left him ??? i just made everything worse for him and did the one thing he was the most scared of. like his worst nightmare was me breaking up with him and i knew that but i still did it ??? an what if hes super depressed n what if he doesnt let anyone into his heart again for a long time bcos of me what if i forced him to come out of his shell and open up to someone else and put himself out there and make himself vulnerable only to turn around and hurt him as hard as possible. no thats not even a what if ! thats what happened !! thats what i did to him . i made him trust me and love me and depend on me and then i left. n i HATE myself for that. i dont knwo why im putting this on fucking tumblr dot com but i just need to work out these feelings n my friends are sick of hearing about him lol its been four months since we broke up n i still havent dealt with this shit properly. n i think the issue is i dont know how. i avoid all negative feelings bcos i have no idea how to process  them i just dissociate until i forget abotu them. i dont know how to process this guilt and sadness fuck my life

[galwednesday]

I’ve seen a lot of threads about boycotting Marvel (for extremely mysterious reasons unknown), and I love giving book recs, so here are some non-Marvel/DC comics to check out while we’re all waiting for Marvel to be less of a raging dumpster fire:

Series:

Lumberjanes, by Noelle Stevenson, Grace Ellis, Shannon Watters, Brooke A. Allen (Illustrator), published by BOOM! Box. (Middle grade/young adult.)

At Miss Qiunzilla Thiskwin Penniquiqul Thistle Crumpet's camp for hard-core lady-types, things are not what they seem. Three-eyed foxes. Secret caves. Anagrams. Luckily, Jo, April, Mal, Molly, and Ripley are five rad, butt-kicking best pals determined to have an awesome summer together... And they're not gonna let a magical quest or an array of supernatural critters get in their way! The mystery keeps getting bigger, and it all begins here. 

Descender, by Jeff Lemire (Writer), Dustin Nguyen (Artist), Steve Wands (Letterer), published by Image. 

Young Robot boy TIM-21 and his companions struggle to stay alive in a universe where all androids have been outlawed and bounty hunters lurk on every planet. Written by award-winning creator, Jeff Lemire, Descender is a rip-roaring and heart-felt cosmic odyssey. Lemire pits humanity against machine, and world against world, to create a sprawling epic. Created by Jeff Lemire (Sweet Tooth, Trillium) and Dustin Nguyen's (Little Gotham) critically acclaimed, bestselling new science fiction series!

Bitch Planet, by Kelly Sue DeConnick (Writer), Valentine De Landro (Artist), Robert Wilson IV (Artist), published by Image.

Eisner Award-nominated writer Kelly Sue DeConnick (Pretty Deadly, Captain Marvel) and Valentine De Landro (X-Factor) team up to bring you the premiere volume of Bitch Planet, a deliciously vicious riff on women-in-prison sci-fi exploitation. In a future just a few years down the road in the wrong direction, a woman's failure to comply with her patriarchal overlords will result in exile to the meanest penal planet in the galaxy. When the newest crop of fresh femmes arrive, can they work together to stay alive or will hidden agendas, crooked guards, and the deadliest sport on (or off!) Earth take them to their maker?

The Unwritten, by Mike Carey (Writer), Bill Willingham (Introduction), Peter Gross (Writer, Artist), published by Vertigo.

Tom Taylor's life was screwed from go. His father created the Tommy Taylor fantasy series, boy-wizard novels with popularity on par with Harry Potter. The problem is Dad modeled the fictional epic so closely to Tom's real life that fans are constantly comparing him to his counterpart, turning him into the lamest variety of Z-level celebrity. In the final novel, it's even implied that the fictional Tommy will crossover into the real world, giving delusional fans more excuses to harass Tom.

When an enormous scandal reveals that Tom might really be a boy-wizard made flesh, Tom comes into contact with a very mysterious, very deadly group that's secretly kept tabs on him all his life. Now, to protect his own life and discover the truth behind his origins, Tom will travel the world, eventually finding himself at locations all featured on a very special map -- one kept by the deadly group that charts places throughout world history where fictions have impacted and tangibly shaped reality, those stories ranging from famous literary works to folktales to pop culture. And in the process of figuring out what it all means, Tom will find himself having to figure out a huge conspiracy mystery that spans the entirety of the history of fiction.

Chew, by John Layman, Rob Guillory (Illustrator), published by Image.

Tony Chu is a detective with a secret. A weird secret. Tony Chu is Cibopathic, which means he gets psychic impressions from whatever he eats. It also means he's a hell of a detective, as long as he doesn't mind nibbling on the corpse of a murder victim to figure out whodunit, and why. He's been brought on by the Special Crimes Division of the FDA, the most powerful law enforcement agency on the planet, to investigate their strangest, sickest, and most bizarre cases.

The Wicked + The Divine, by Kieron Gillen, Jamie McKelvie (Illustrations), Matt Wilson (Colorist), Clayton Cowles, published by Image.

Every ninety years, twelve gods incarnate as humans. They are loved. They are hated. In two years, they are dead. The team behind critical tongue-attractors like Young Avengers and PHONOGRAM reunite to create a world where gods are the ultimate pop stars and pop stars are the ultimate gods. But remember: just because you’re immortal, doesn’t mean you’re going to live forever.

Sex Criminals, by Matt Fraction (Writer), Chip Zdarsky (Artist), published by Image.

Suzie’s just a regular gal with an irregular gift: when she has sex, she stops time. One day she meets Jon and it turns out he has the same ability. And sooner or later they get around to using their gifts to do what we’d ALL do: rob a couple banks. A bawdy and brazen sex comedy for comics begins here!

Paper Girls, by Brian K. Vaughan, Cliff Chiang (Illustrator), Matthew Wilson (Illustrator), published by Image.

In the early hours after Halloween of 1988, four 12-year-old newspaper delivery girls uncover the most important story of all time. Suburban drama and otherworldly mysteries collide in this smash-hit series about nostalgia, first jobs, and the last days of childhood.

Saga, by Brian K. Vaughan (Writer), Fiona Staples (Artist), published by Image.

When two soldiers from opposite sides of a never-ending galactic war fall in love, they risk everything to bring a fragile new life into a dangerous old universe. From bestselling writer Brian K. Vaughan, Saga is the sweeping tale of one young family fighting to find their place in the worlds. Fantasy and science fiction are wed like never before in this sexy, subversive drama for adults. 

Single-volume:

American Born Chinese, by Gene Luen Yang, published by First Second. (Young adult.)

All Jin Wang wants is to fit in. When his family moves to a new neighborhood, he suddenly finds that he's the only Chinese American student at his school. Jocks and bullies pick on him constantly, and he has hardly any friends. Then, to make matters worse, he falls in love with an all-American girl... Born to rule over all the monkeys in the world, the story of the Monkey King is one of the oldest and greatest Chinese fables. Adored by his subjects, master of the arts of kung-fu, he is the most powerful monkey on earth. But the Monkey King doesn't want to be a monkey. He wants to be hailed as a god... Chin-Kee is the ultimate negative Chinese stereotype, and he's ruining his cousin Danny's life. Danny's a popular kid at school, but every year Chin-Kee comes to visit, and every year Danny has to transfer to a new school to escape the shame. This year, though, things quickly go from bad to worse... These three apparently unrelated tales come together with an unexpected twist, in a modern fable that is hilarious, poignant and action-packed.

Through the Woods, by Emily Carroll, published by Margaret K. McElderry Books.

'It came from the woods. Most strange things do.' Five mysterious, spine-tingling stories follow journeys into (and out of?) the eerie abyss. These chilling tales spring from the macabre imagination of acclaimed and award-winning comic creator Emily Carroll. Come take a walk in the woods and see what awaits you there...

Skim, by Mariko Tamaki, Jillian Tamaki (Illustrator), published by Groundwood Books. (Young adult/adult.)

Heartbreakingly funny, moving and vibrantly drawn, Skim is an extraordinary book--a smart and sensitive graphic novel of the highest literary and artistic quality, by and about young women. "Skim" is Kimberly Keiko Cameron, a not-slim, would-be Wiccan goth who goes to a private girls' school. When Skim's classmate Katie Matthews is dumped by her boyfriend, who then kills himself, the entire school goes into mourning overdrive. As concerned guidance counselors provide lectures on the "cycle of grief," and the popular clique starts a new club (Girls Celebrate Life!) to bolster school spirit, Skim sinks into an ever-deepening depression. And falling in love only makes things worse... Suicide, depression, love, being gay or not, crushes, cliques, and finding a way to be your own fully human self--are all explored in this brilliant collaboration by cousins Mariko and Jillian Tamaki. An edgy, keenly observed and poignant glimpse into the heartache of being young.

Prince of Cats, by Ron Wimberly, published by Vertigo.

A hip-hop retelling of William Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet that focuses on Tybalt (derisively referred to as "the Prince of Cats") and his Capulet crew as they do battle nightly with the hated Montagues. Set in a Blade Runner-esque version of Brooklyn, PRINCE OF CATS is a mix of urban melodrama, samurai action and classic Shakespearean theater...all written in Iambic Pentameter!

[primrose-path-of-dalliance]

rating: General Audiences characters: Riza Hawkeye, Roy Mustang summary: In the aftermath, the events of the Promised Day finally catch up to the two. Brotherhood canon. word count: 2811 also on: FFN

shoutout to @thecookiemonster77​ for betaing this fic and catching so many errors in it! (and also gushing w me about these two in the google doc comments—they're so soft and silly.) a million thanks friend!!

The only thing worse than being blind is having sight but no vision.

—Helen Keller.

Finally, the door shuts with a small click, and the kind nurse leaves Roy to the quiet darkness of the hospital room.

He sits crosslegged on the bed, peering with aching eyes into the nothingness at what he knows is a plain, white wall on the other side of the room, and imagines for a ludicrous moment that the intensity of his gaze, if he could stare and will it hard enough, might pierce through the curtain of darkness. And everything would be fixed.

But the Truth isn't that simple, and he scoffs at himself. You fool.

Roy closes his useless, godforsaken eyes, pressing his fingers into them with a grimace, and pulls his attention away from them to the rest of his senses, his remaining tethers to the world around him. He needs to be reminded that he isn’t simply floating, alone, in an empty void of blackness. And as he focuses, he can hear people bustle outside his door, solid businesslike footsteps and shuffles, the occasional squeak of a wheelchair passing by from room to room and muffled murmurs leaking through the cracks. He realizes, as he finally registers the complaints of his wounded palms, that his hands have been clenched for some time, stiff fingers digging into the cool sheets of his bed, and with a long exhale, he relaxes them and winces at the pain until it dulls again to a mere ache. He carefully places one on the inside of his elbow, where a fresh bandage holds a dressing firmly in place over the small wound where a PVC used to be. (Roy presses the butt of his palm against it and grimaces; he always seems to bruise after getting his blood drawn.) And surrounding him, filling his nose is the familiar stench of hospital convalescence: arid and sterile, the faint taint of bleach sticking like a film over every surface.

The smell nauseates him. Hospitals, like the battlefield, lost their idealistic charm for him a long time ago.

Nearby lies Lieutenant Hawkeye, her breathing irregular in her sleep but strong. Roy can't see it, but he knows an IV line is hooked up to the back of her hand, steadily feeding her veins a drip of blood.

She fell asleep while the line was being put in, which he's relieved about to an embarrassing degree. A severed jugular vein is serious business, and even in his blindness he can still see the dark lake of her blood beneath her, growing vividly by the second as she demanded him, the light fading from her eyes, to let her die.

They're ridiculously lucky that the good doctor didn't go for her carotid artery instead. Mei's alkahestry, as capable medical aid as it is, does little in the way of lost blood. And then for the lieutenant to stand back up in spite of that, and keep fighting by his side—

Roy's relieved. He's relieved, and grateful, and glad, because she horribly needs the rest.

And maybe, he considers wryly as he rubs his temple and grimaces, he does as well. God knows how the lieutenant would scowl if he stays awake brooding for any longer. His head is beginning to throb, joining the aches of his eyes and bandaged hands.

Roy then smiles self-deprecatingly—his issues have nothing on near-death by exsanguination, all things considered. He massages his eyes before lying down and, turning his eyes up to what he presumes is the ceiling, listens to his lieutenant, alive, breathe softly for a time. At some point, he slips finally into a restless doze, confusing, nebulous dreams darting about the edges of his awareness like bolts of flame alchemy, taunting him. Roy reaches for them, grasping at the tendrils like straws until they transform into pyres of firewood. Sparks drift into the dark sky.

"Roy," teenage Riza says quietly from behind the small campfire. She's swaddled in a blanket and warming her hands up near the flames, gazing into them with thoughtful, innocent eyes. Not those of a killer’s. "Why do you like alchemy?"

Roy spears a marshmallow and thrusts it into the fire. He passes one already done a golden brown over to Riza. "What do you mean?"

She looks at him, bereft and dressed in mourning black, from the other side of her father's grave. Her eyes are heavy with the faded scars of grief. "Because it destroyed my family."

A wind buffets the sticks of marshmallows in his hands until they're yanked away, flying up over the graveyard and into the clear blue sky. Roy watches them disappear with an oddly detached, nostalgic sorrow, and when he turns back around, the two of them stand in their dress blues and beige overcoats, surrounded by the sandy outskirts of the Eastern Desert, and Riza stares with horror at all of Ishval burning before them.

She turns to him, eyes accusatory—and betrayed. "I trusted you."

Roy flinches from that uncompromising blame, from the guilt, unable to meet her glare, and when he looks away he's at one of the military camps in Ishval, awaiting the trucks that will finally send them home. He gazes up at the Führer of Amestris, who stands with his hands on a sword hilt, draconian and victorious, atop a mass of corpses both foreign and native-born.

"You have to fix this, Roy," Hughes says from beside him, where Roy can't see, "so that this never happens again, and make amends for all of us. And for god's sake, man, get yourself a wife! You need all the support you can get now that I can't be your best man anymore."

Roy scowls bitterly; even in death, Hughes just has to bug him like this. But when he turns to give Hughes an irritated retort, he's met instead with an expanse of white and a Gate that looms ominously before him. From behind, where he can't see, the Truth speaks.

"A hopeful vision for the future, surrounded by the answer; you neither need nor desire this knowledge." A giant eye blinks open at him from within his Gate, and an ancient, instinctual terror wells up within him—his soul recoils from that darkness, as it had then, and Roy is suddenly a bug pinned underneath that solitary alien gaze. An insignificant insect met with the undivided attention of God, the universe, All, and One.

And himself.

"Yet here you are, Roy Mustang, paying the price for a choice made for you," the Truth muses.

Tendrils reach out to grasp him, the blue of alchemy instead of ink-black, and God grins at Roy as he's pulled away into the depths of his Gate, the hell of Edward’s nightmares and now part of his own.

"The one punishment you never meant to receive. Ironic, isn't it?"

Roy's eyes snap open to darkness. For a moment, half-delirious, he can see the knowledge of the universe in the empty expanse of his sight as he had before, streaming past in bright, overwhelming cacophony—and then the moment ends, Roy closes his burning, blind eyes again with a grimace, and he groans softly as he realizes just how exhausted he is now. The nap was a mistake.

Riza's voice rises warily out of the silence. "Sir?"

Her bare back is to him. Somehow, she kneels on the tent floor with strength, shoulders firm and taut with anticipation but not fear, and Roy, gut twisting, doesn’t understand that trust he sees in every line of her back (because didn't he break it, again and again with every snap of his fingers in this horrible desert) as he stares grimly, distantly at the tattooed alchemical sigils, running the most careful of calculations through his mind, before the circle on his glove begins to glow blue and he snaps—

"Are you awake? Colonel?"

"Yeah," he murmurs, still grimacing, shaking his head loose of the fading muddle and rubbing an eye with one clammy, aching hand. Sweat beads on his brow despite the chilliness of his sheets, and Roy sluggishly considers whether he's coming down with something. "I'm awake. How are you feeling, Lieutenant?"

"Like I belong in a hospital, sir," she replies wryly.

"Hah."

Roy can almost feel the lieutenant's eyes on him as he sits up, bed creaking, and pauses in the middle of a brief dizzy spell. The stab wounds in his palms throb to the beat of his heart.

"Are you all right, Colonel?"

"Just tired. Nothing a good night's sleep won't cure."

There's a pregnant pause, and a bed nearby—the lieutenant's—creaks. She's moved, no doubt with suspicion. Why does she have to be so good at spotting his lies? "Colonel, it's nighttime. You've been asleep for at least seven hours." Her tone implies that he hasn't exactly been resting peacefully either.

Seven hours?

Afterimages of his dreams flicker in the darkness.

"Are you sure you're all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine. It's not like I can tell what time it is with these eyes, Hawkeye," he snaps, jabbing thumbs towards the aforementioned organs and instantly regretting it as pain lances through his palms. Roy can't help but hiss and cradle his hands to his chest.

"Sir!"

"I'm. Fine," he grits out, wounded hands still agonizing as he drops them again into his lap.

"Sir," and this time her voice is stern. "You've been shaking."

Roy's hands tremble rebelliously, as if to corroborate the lieutenant’s words. He would look at them to verify for himself, if he could see—though he suspects she's right. He's freezing, and just like that, the unbidden ire drains away to leave him in a tired slump. "I said... I'm just exhausted, Lieutenant. Worry about yourself. You're the one who almost died earlier today."

To his chagrin, Roy's voice softens with far too much emotion than her CO’s voice ought to, and he turns his face away from her. He's such a fool, such a fool.

She sighs, and the exasperated fondness in it might as well drive a knife through his heart. "You're such a hypocrite, Colonel."

Her bed creaks again, an IV stand rolls quietly across the floor, and then she's beside him pulling up a chair. The legs rasp noisily against the linoleum.

His eyes widen, even if he can’t see. "Lieutenant. Your neck, you should be resting—"

"Princess Chang did a fantastic job with my injuries, sir. I might not even need surgery if the exam tomorrow morning turns out well. So with all due respect, stop being ridiculous and shut up," she says briskly. Shocked into submission, Roy does so, and sensing his bafflement, she adds with dry humor, "Well you're blind now, aren't you? What I said with a glare I'll simply have to say out loud now."

Roy snorts as she covers his shoulders with his overcoat, and when she takes his hands, he grips them back as tightly as he can, cautious of her PVC and IV.

"I suppose I forgot you almost lost me too," he murmurs.

His lieutenant laces the fingers of one warm hand through one of his. "Yes, you did."

A small smile makes its way onto Roy’s face; he can't help it. The last time she displayed this much affection outright... well, she thought he'd died. He has the impulsive urge to reach out and lay a hand on his lieutenant’s neck, over the bandages he knows are there—a tangible reminder that she’s okay, that the pulse of her heart still beats on—but the sheer unprofessionalism of the idea keeps Roy’s hands still within hers. Touching her like that... Besides, between his blindness and his luck, he’d smack her in the face instead.

His smile widens, even if it is with a drier edge to it. "How about this, then. I'll try to stop mother-henning people if you promise never to get your neck cut open again."

"Deal. Although I expect your end of this promise to be much harder to hold up."

"I said 'try', I didn't say promise."

Roy doesn't need to have it said aloud to know the look the lieutenant is giving him now, and he snickers until the return of his shivering sobers him again. For a moment there, he forgot about his condition. "I... might be sick," he finally admits.

"Don't worry, Colonel. We all figured you weren't quite right in the head a long time ago."

Roy turns a blind glower towards her—he tries to be serious for once and she continues to sass him—albeit one with no real fire to it. In all honesty, she's not entirely wrong; no one whose end goal happily risks their head in a noose could be completely normal. "Then what are you for following me, Lieutenant?"

"I'm merely a bodyguard."

"Hardly."

She rests her shoulder against his, lending him warmth, continuing as if he didn’t speak. "You're the silly, egotistical, quixotic man who thinks he can get away with protecting everyone."

Roy finds himself smiling tenderly, closing his eyes and leaning back into her, and after the briefest flicker of fear, aggressively decides not to care, not to reassert their usual boundaries of aloof, arrogant superior and strict, stoic subordinate; it’s not as if the lieutenant is concerned. Hell, as if they didn't already cross the line—as if their hand holding alone wouldn't be damning enough for anyone who happens to waltz into their hospital room. But no one else is in their room, no one else will be coming to their room, no homunculi are keeping constant tabs on the two of them any longer, and Roy Mustang desperately needs to humor himself because this is the first time he’s been alone with Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye, his best friend and love and moral guidance in the flesh since her near-death less than twenty-four hours ago.

God, where would he be without her? _Dead myself, a thousand times over, in a thousand different ways. _Not for the first time, Roy is reminded of how much he doesn't deserve her. He raises the back of her hand to his lips slowly and kisses it. She allows him to. "You flatter me, Lieutenant."

"Oh, Colonel," she says dryly, softly.

They sit in companionable, affectionate silence for a while, hands clasped and leaning against one another, and Roy vainly wishes that he could see her. She’s right beside him, and he misses her.

"Worry about yourself, sir," she finally says, "please. You're ill. Get some rest."

"I'll try."

The lieutenant moves away, taking her hands and warmth with her, and the sudden absence of them strikes Roy with almost real pain as he listens to her IV stand roll back into place beside her bed. He turns his eyes towards her, remembering the image of blood pooling beneath her body, of her back scorched by his flames, searching for the strength in her face and frustrated by darkness instead.

"Lieutenant," he says. "I'm sorry."

There's a moment of still silence before she lets out a brief breath, like a small, bemused shake of the head, and she knows he’s talking about more than his chronic inability to worry about himself. Her bed creaks as she climbs back into it. "It's all right, Colonel. The fact that you can still say sorry and be sincere is enough."

The weight of his sins has never felt more palpable. "Really?"

"You have a good heart," the lieutenant states simply, as she has before. "And you're trying to right our wrongs."

"They can never be repaired," he murmurs, and he knows she nods.

"But you’re trying. And if you can, you will make our hopes reality, which is much more than anyone else in this military can say for themselves. I know I’m praising you for something you don’t want to be praised for, but it’s the truth. Perhaps you're blind now, Colonel, but you still have vision."

Roy blinks rapidly a few times, and he has to stop himself from balling his hands into the sheets of his bed before he aggravates the wounds yet again. "Oh, stop," he finally croaks, voice wavering. "You'll make me blush."

He can almost feel one of the lieutenant’s smiles on him, soft and warm. "Of course, sir. Now, go to sleep."

Roy manages a mock-salute. "Yes, ma'am."

Somehow, his attempt to lighten the mood succeeds, and the lieutenant chuckles as she settles down. The sound buoys Roy—he’s had so little occasion to hear it in the past year—as he puts his coat aside and lies down himself.

“Lieutenant?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, sir.”

And this time, Roy’s dreams are kind enough to send him back to the campfire days of fifteen years ago and stay there for a while.

[sleepyc0rex]

(post i forgot to post) i actually took my time with this and it’s probably one of the best pics ive drawn of moonmist so far qwq ✨ here’s some notes if you wanna draw her: - her eyes are always kind of lidded or relaxed, and she has fairly long eyelashes - her mane can have small stars in it along with her eyes, cm and magic - she has small spots mostly on her head, back and hooves (drawn like small craters of the moon) - her ears are almost always flipped down or back unless she gets startled or is listening for something - she has a star birthmark on her right thigh / butt (i drew it weird) - she can wear any type of clothing or hairstyle - her magic color is the same color as her eyes and her cm’s purple ribbon - the bottom lip marking is optional, it’s just a preference for me uvu - she can have a bow in her hair as well, or multiple!