#cross-posted from ao3

[slicesofapple]

"Spend tomorrow night with me,” says Hawks quietly. He’s dressed now, and ready to leave.

Dabi stops pulling on his own shirt. He stares at Hawks for a long time.

“Christmas Eve?” he finally says, with incredulity. When Hawks doesn’t answer, doesn’t even look at him, he adds, “You care about that shit?”

“I just wanted,” mumbles Hawks under his breath.  He stops, gives his head a small shake.  “Forget it. See you next time.”

As he’s opening the window, however, he hesitates. Then he turns briefly, just long enough to lob a small object Dabi’s way.

Dabi, still in shock, barely catches the projectile. By the time he looks up, Hawks is gone.

He stands for a moment, unmoving, before looking back down at what turns out to be a package. It's wrapped plainly but precisely in shiny black paper.

That, however, is not nearly as surprising as what he finds inside.

It's a piece of jewelry. A bracelet. Thin, delicately wrought, silver, but when he holds it up to the light it shimmers an array of blues and purples.

He blinks, trying to catch up with what's going on:  that this is a present.

From Hawks.

For Christmas.

And it's perfect.

----

The following evening (really very early in the morning of the 25th), Hawks fumbles with the window to his apartment. He’s had way too much to drink, and it’s way too late, but he didn’t… want to come home tonight. Not to this sterile, awful apartment. Not alone.

He’s not sure why; this is how he’s always spent Christmas. For some reason, tonight it feels bad.

He should have stayed out longer, had a few more drinks.

If he had, however, there’s a very real possibility he’d have ended up crashing on the way home – actually dashing his brains out on the pavement.

And maybe… that wouldn’t have been so bad?

He shakes off the melancholy thought.

It’s only one night of the year – nothing unusual about it. No need to go overboard, to wallow in the sadness and the guilt and the regrets.

He’s enough adrift in these thoughts that it takes his bleary eyes a moment to realize that something’s amiss. There's something in the corner of his apartment that wasn’t there earlier today.

Despite the alcohol, his training kicks in; he’s much steadier as he creeps silently forward, feathers at the ready.

Still, it takes a solid minute for him to understand what he’s actually seeing.

It’s a tree: a Christmas tree.

Small and spindly, and strung with far too many lights for its tiny frame. But there it is. Nestled into the corner of his apartment. With a silver star at the top.  

A shuffling noise has him spinning around, only for him to have the second greatest shock of the year. Because there, that lump on the couch, is... Dabi??!!.

Splayed out on the cushions, fast asleep, drooling slightly.

That can’t really be – no, it can’t.  Dabi can’t be here, in his apartment, waiting for him, asleep on the couch?

No. He must be dreaming.

He lurches forward, and in doing so overbalances himself.

When he falls, it’s not onto the soft couch he expects, but, rather, the bony body of his lover.

"Ooof," says Dabi, suddenly awake.

“It’s really you!” Hawks whispers. If he were less drunk, he’d probably be embarrassed by the naked awe in his own voice. As it is, he doesn’t much care.

Dabi smiles. He lifts a hand to brush the hair off Hawks's face. There's a flash of color at his wrist: silver and blue and purple.

He's wearing the bracelet.

“Yeah,” he says softly, and his eyes are soft, too. "It's really me. Merry Christmas, Little Birdie.”

[tothestarswithye]

Ring ring… Ring ring…

SpearicalDee has joined your call.

[🍰] “HI BANDEEEEEE!!!”

[🔷] “AAK! OW- um, g-gimme a sec-”

[🍰] “Huh?”

[🔷] “Just… there, okay. Sorry, had my volume up too high.”

[🍰] “Oh, sorry! But anyway haiiiiiii!!”

[🔷] “Heheh, hi Kirby! Whatcha calling for?

[🍰] “Oh I just wanted to-”

SirMetaKnight has joined your call.

[🦇] “Kirby, what is the issue? Are you under attack?”

[🍰] “Huh? Wha- no! There’s no attack!”

[🦇] “Ah. Never mind then.”

SirMetaKnight has left your call.

[🍰] “HEY!! You get back here Mr. knight man!”

[🔷] *Sigh* “And there he goes…”

[🍰] “Uuuugh, whyyy does he always do this?”

[🔷] “Probably because of that one time you actually were in danger and called him. Now he’s gonna freak out every time.”

[🍰] “Hey, that was only cause I got stuck! He knows I can handle myself- Or do I gotta beat him up in the coliseum again? >:)”

[🔷] “...Maybe.” *Giggle*

NumbahOne1King has joined your call.

[🔷] “Oh! Great King!”

[🍰] “Haaiiiii!”

[👑] “Heheheh! Well if it isn’t my two favorite pipsqueaks! What’s goin’ on in here?”

[🍰] “Oh, I just wanted to chat with you all! But Meeeta left when it wasn’t important!”

[👑] “HAH! Always the party pooper.”

[🍰] “I’m gonna drag him back in, though!”

[👑] “Go get ‘im, tiger. Anyway! What’ve y’all been up to?”

[🔷] “Just training more with my spear on my end, sire!”

[🍰] “I went on a picnic with Adeline and Ribbon! They brought the beeeeest cookies ever, and we drew a bunch of pictures together! Oh, and Magalor took me and Elfilin on a trip ‘round the galaxy! We got to see a bunch of stars and planets!”

[👑] “Sounds exciting!”

[🍰] “Yeah! ‘Lin was a bit nervous about getting on the Lor, but Mags managed to talk ‘em into it. They actually ended up talking about their shared experiences of getting uh, absorbed and stuff.”

[🔷] “Oh jeez, hope that didn’t end up too dark…”

[🍰] “Ehh, I tried to not listen in too much. They were both happy by the end of it, though! 

[👑] “That’s good at least.”

[🍰] “Hmmm, so how about you Dedede?”

[👑] “Right! Well, I’ve been working on sorting out my Dee’s. Y’know, figuring out which ones are staying in the other world, helping the rest that are coming back- And! Some of the beast pack wants to move to Popstar, so I gotta supervise that too.”

[🔷] “Woah. Do you need more assistance with that, sire?”

[👑] “Nah, most of it’s done by now. Little Elfilin’s been a big help with all of the movin’ people around.

[🍰] “Woooo! Go ‘Lin-lin!”

[👑] “They've been doing so much it makes me feel bad, especially after what I did to ‘em before.”

[🍰] “That’s-”

[👑] “I know it’s not my fault, kid. But it was still my hands, so it feels kinda wrong that they’re the one helping me now.

[🍰] “Hey, you still-”

[👑] “You of all people have no right to argue with me here, ya puffball”

[🍰] “...”

[🔷] *Giggle*

[🍰] *Gasp* “Traitor!”

[🔷&👑] *Laughter*

[🍰] *Grumble*

[👑] “Ah, chin up kiddo.”

[🍰] *Pbbbtht*

[👑] *Scoff* “Oh you are so getting noogied next time I see ya!” 

SirMetaKnight has joined your call.

[🦇] “You can stop spam-messaging me now, Kirby”

[🍰] *Gasp* “METAAAAAAAAAA!!”

[🔷] “Hello again Sir Meta Knight!”

[👑] “‘Sup.”

[🦇] “Ah, hello to you two as well.”

[👑] “Heard you ditched when ya found out you weren’t needed, hahah!”

[🦇] “I was in the middle of something, but now I am free.”

[🔷] “It’s good to see- er, hear you regardless, sir!”

[🦇] “You as well, Bandana. How has your training been coming along?”

[🔷] “Really good! I’ve been working on going higher and faster with my spear-copter, it’s really fun!”

[🦇] “Good. And how about that blocking method I showed you?”

[🔷] “Oh yeah, Kirby’s helped me with practicing that!”

[🍰] “Mhm!”

[🦇] “Very good you two.”

[👑] “Heh, seems we’ve all been a bunch of busy bees!”

[🦇] “Truly. I trust that you have been training as well, sire?”

[👑] “Wh- Why would I need to train more? I’m already at the top of my game!”

[🔷] “You can never train too much!”

[🍰] “Yeah, that’s what Meta always says!”

[👑] “I am doing juuust fine as is!”

[🦇] “And yet you were still taken over by Fecto Forgo.”

[👑] “HEY! I did my best to resist that!”

[🔷] “L-lets not argue too much about this, guys…”

[🦇] “Hmph. I suppose his majesty did have an unfair disadvantage, as the creature seemed to be able to control beasts the easiest.

[👑] “What did you just call me?!”

[🦇] “You are a penguin, sire.”

[👑] “Oh shut it with that sass of yours!”

[🍰] *Giggle* “Alright alright, before you two get carried away… What have you been doing, Meta?”

[🦇] “Me? Well, I’ve been busy keeping an eye on Waddle Dee Town, though the migrating seems to be almost over. I just finished stationing some of my men there to keep watch for the foreseeable future.”

[🔷] “Is that really needed? I thought were were friends with the beast pack now.”

[🦇] “With most of them, yes. However, not all of them decided to switch sides after Fecto’s mind control was broken. Some are still hostile, so the town still needs protection.”

[👑] “That’s right! Gotta make sure all my little Dee’s are safe.”

[🍰] “Is that aaaaaall you’ve been doing? Ya gotta have fun sometimes, y’know!”

[🦇] “I am merely being efficient, Kirby. Though, I was actually invited to tea by Taranza a few days ago.

[🍰] “OOOOOOO! How is he, how is he?!”

[👑] *Sigh*

[🦇] “He is doing well enough. We spoke on the status of Floralia, as well as other matters. Apparently, there was an incident recently where Marx crash-landed into the Dreamstalk.”

[🍰] “Haha, really?”

[🦇] “Yes, and it only got worse when he found and ate a Miracle Fruit.”

[🍰] “Oh.”

[🔷] “Oh no.”

[👑] “Yeah, that sounds like a bad combo.”

[🦇] “He quote, ‘went on a mini rampage,’ flying around at breakneck speeds. Taranza did his best to reign him in, but it still caused quite a commotion.”

[🔷] “D-did things turn out alright at least?”

[🦇] “Yes, Taranza subdued him once the fruit’s effects wore off. He somehow managed to force Marx to apologize to the People of the Sky and clean up part of his mess.”

[🍰] “Wow, getting Marx to apologize? That’s impressive!”

[🦇] “Based on what he said, I think that jester may have a fear of spiders.”

[👑] “PFFFT- HEHEHEHAHAHahahahaaah… yeah I get that.”

[🔷] “Sheesh, seems like things have been eventful for everyone recently.”

[🍰] “But soooooo spread out though! Calling is nice, but I wanna see everyone in person!”

[🔷] “Oooo, we should have a get-together soon!”

[🦇] *Sigh* “I suppose my schedule did just become more free…”

[👑] “Same here! -Er, well not quite, still gotta finish up some stupid paperwork- but then I’ll be good!”

[🍰] “I’ll recruit Mags to pick people up! And then we can all go to uh… maybe… er… hrm.”

[👑] “Ehh… I got nothin’.”

[🦇] “...”

[🔷] “...How about Wondaria?”

[🍰] *GAAAASP* “THAT’S PERFECT!!”

[👑] “Oh yeah, I remember Carol talkin’ ‘bout that place!”

[🍰] “There’s sooooo much to do there, everyone’ll have a great time! I think you’ll like the House of Horrors, Meta.”

[🦇] “Hmph, we’ll see if it lives up to its name.”

[🔷] “I thought it was pretty spooky!”

[👑] “Heheh, well it’s settled then! How about uh, maybe three days from now?”

[🍰] “Sounds good! Can’t wait to see you all then!”

[🔷] “Mhm! I’m gonna get back to practicing, so see you guys later!”

[🍰] “BYEEE!!”

[👑] “See ya!”

[🦇] “Take care, Bandana.”

SpearicalDee has left your call.

[👑] “I’m also gonna hop out, gotta get my shi- stuff sorted out. Later!”

[🍰] “Oh, bye!”

[🦇] “Farewell, your majesty.”

NumbahOne1King has left your call.

[🦇] “Seems we’re all leaving now.”

[🍰] “Yeah…”

[🦇] “Hmmm… Actually, one thing before I depart as well. I have had a certain itching for a spar, so perhaps we could meet up at the coliseum once again?”

[🍰] *Gasp* “Heck yeah! I’d love to!”

[🦇] *Chuckle* “How about the day before this amusement park trip?”

[🍰] “Got it!”

[🦇] “Alright. I’ll see you then, Kirby.”

[🍰] “Mm-hmph! Bye bye!”

SirMetaKnight has left your call.

[🍰] *Giggle* “Oh, this is gonna be so much fun!”

All users have left your call.

[lilacxquartz]

JJK x READER | JEALOUSY

a collection of reader insert scenarios in which the jjk characters are faced with the daunting prospect of dealing with jealousy around you.

w.c: each piece is under 700 words but there’s a lot of characters to get through :)

themes: fem!reader, mostly fluff, some nsfw mentions but light

included: satoru gojo, suguru geto, kento nanami, choso kamo, shoko ieiri, yuki tsukumo and our chaotic special guests: sukuna, uraume & kenjaku.

mdni • semi nsfw • ao3 link

—

Satoru Gojo:

Usually self assured and confident within all parameters of the relationship, Satoru had very little to worry about when it came to being with you.

Besides, just by being with him alone was the highest possible praise you could have ever given the guy.

So, when faced with the topic of jealousy, he would at oftentimes simply just push the subject away and it would never even have a chance to spiral. Maybe at best he’d ask you for some validation and you’d indulge him in a stream of compliments to feed his longing ego.

But it never got too bad.

Lately, however, there had been someone that he wasn’t too particularly fond of trying to get closer to you. It wasn’t your fault, you were simply just too nice.

Of course someone got the wrong idea and of course you were too oblivious to see what was wrong.

Truth be told, Satoru thought you wouldn’t do anything that would make him worry but just the person’s existence alone left him with a sour taste in his mouth when he thought about them.

His initial reaction bordered irrational and he suddenly became clingier when he texted you which was reflected to an extent when he spent time with you. He wanted much more validation and reassurance than usual because he wanted to be told exactly what you love about him and why.

Still, the strange person persisted, but rather than admitting that he was actually jealous of someone he knew that couldn’t even hold a candle to him, he decided to go all out.

Hitting his peak jealousy, he booked you a trip somewhere special. Sure, in your mind it might come across as out of place and even spontaneous, but you wouldn’t be mad. See, he knew exactly what types of places you’d like to go, keeping a mental note or any time you’ve had your eyes glued to your screen with wonder and as it turned out—he had the means to justify a trip to anywhere.

Confusion was what came to mind when you woke up to your overly optimistic boyfriend who subtly slipped a plane ticket into your hand while fast asleep. He next handed over your passport, your eyes warily following his own to land on a seemingly packed suitcase sitting by the bedroom door.

Poor you, Satoru didn’t even give you enough time to react to it all.

Yet there you were, already flying high in the sky in one of the clan jets half asleep.

Eventually it all hit you though and you asked what brought this on.

Satoru being Satoru fed a non-serious answer, laughing to himself that now so-and-so can’t get close to you which was right when you understood that the fool was actually acting out of jealousy all along.

Satoru was good to you though, even if he was excessive at times so you just rolled with it.

Making sure to fuck the worry right out of his head as soon as you arrived in the hotel room.

Suguru Geto:

Jealousy was something that Suguru never could quite overcome. It was ingrained into his personality at this point to protect what was his. He didn’t like sorcerers and non-sorcerers alike putting their eyes on you, staring at you as if they had a chance.

Wanting to stay in your good graces though, he reluctantly swallowed his insecurities away when he started getting serious with you and for the most part, trust prevailed.

You were his ideal partner and the girls loved you.

Those two little things painted you as perfection in his eyes and he would never stray away from you.

Speaking realistically, Suguru knew that he didn’t have a single thing to worry about with you. He treated you very well and wasn’t subtle about how much he loved you.

Still, he kept seeing you hang out with someone new. Keeping up the appearances with the cult often meant putting on a show and even if your persona was fabricated, he hated how the person in question was starting to look at you the same way he did.

In fact, it was infuriating.

His initial solution was to give into madness and simply feed this person to one of his cursed spirits before he realised that such an action would very likely upset you. His next solution would have been to warn (likely rough up) the person in question that they were on thin ice, but you wouldn’t like that either.

Instead, similar to Satoru, he would simply avert your focus from the suspect and redirect your attention onto him instead.

One particular night when the girls were asleep and a trusted ally was on the way over to babysit, he swooped in right behind you as you were getting changed for the night. His arms snaked around your waist and he pulled you close while his chin rested on your shoulder.

He whispered your name while leaving a trail of purposefully visible hickeys on your neck, making his claim on you obvious to anyone who dared look.

Caught off guard but not disliking it, you asked what brought all this on and Suguru who liked to be a man of few words during moments like these, replied that he just wanted to take you out tonight and show you off to the world.

While walking to the car however, he did confess his building concerns though, knowing that you wouldn’t be mad, maybe even find this whole mess funny.

That he simply didn’t like how close someone was trying to get to you, that he didn’t like that someone truly thought that they had a chance with you.

Planting him a deep kiss onto his cheek, you joked that if it meant more date nights then maybe it wasn’t so bad, especially with what you had planned later.

So in his riled up state of mind, his demeanour tightened.

Maybe it didn’t hurt to sometimes give into jealousy.

At least every now and then.

Kento Nanami:

Kento prided himself for being very connected to a logical approach with pretty much everything. He enjoyed listening to you and adjusting his behaviour to what he felt you needed from him while also being genuine about it.

As your long term partner, his number one goal was to ensure that all of your needs were being met and he took that very seriously.

Jealousy wasn’t ever an issue he explored as a result. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel it, in fact, he thought a little bit of it was healthy every now and then—but he simply just didn’t dwell on the subject, knowing that he had nothing to worry about.

Trust was a big part of a relationship, after all.

Yet, he couldn’t quite shake the lingering feeling that you might have been getting a bit too friendly with someone he disliked. He knew that realistically you were as faithful as they come and even worrying would be silly of him to do, but this irrational feeling wasn’t subsiding.

It was festering and it made him feel bad.

Wanting to set a good example on how to approach the topic of jealousy however, his first course of action was to catch you at a good moment. Right after dinner, he cleared the table for you and did the dishes, choosing to bring up the subject when he joined you on the sofa.

He wanted for you to take it slightly seriously though, so he asked for you to please humour him with his predicament.

You agreed to his terms because Kento was good to you and you wanted to hear him out whenever he had a problem. He wouldn’t be so serious all of a sudden if something was actually up and as a good girlfriend, you wanted to be there for him.

It was the right thing to do.

He started off saying that maybe it’s nothing, but, you’ve been getting a bit too friendly with someone he doesn’t have the best opinion of and he knows it’s not fair to put this on you, but he’s just unsure of how to feel when he sees you with someone like that.

Acting just a little too friendly.

He made sure to let you know that he wasn’t accusing you of anything though, that he knew it was all irrational, but he just couldn’t help it.

He was human, too.

Of course though, you were quick to reassure him. Right away in fact. It wasn’t that you were defensive, it was just that you found it almost endearing to see your usually serious boyfriend get worked up over something so simple.

Nanami sighed as this all happened, knowing it was silly to think his relationship was ever threatened to begin with.

Just to keep on your good side though, he didn’t see the harm in sometimes indulging at least a little in his feelings every now and then. Maybe sometimes he’d get you flowers arranged in a vase for you to find or he would take you somewhere nice when he had the time. Maybe he’d give you a massage or get you that necklace you’ve been eyeing up at the shop window every time you walked right past.

Just to see you smile, really.

Just to never give you a reason to doubt his devotion to you.

Choso Kamo:

You were technically Choso’s first and only ever girlfriend as he never quite had the opportunity to explore relationships before he met you. In fact, the very idea that you went from being just friends to him to being your actual boyfriend was a miracle in his eyes.

Both of you approached the subject of even the slightest form of intimacy very carefully. You found it very sweet personally, while he still carried some insecurity with it, wondering if you wanted more from him sooner than he was ready to give it.

He wanted to take his time with you, after all.

He wanted every single milestone to feel special, even if it was just your first kiss shared together or the first time he held your hand.

To him, every inch of you was incredible and although he did his best to not actually stare at you (and all night if he could get away with it), he couldn’t help but overthink every little thing that had ever happened in your relationship with him.

He sure did his best to not come across as too intense, though.

He’d always be as gentle as possible with you while being as kind as possible. He knew that he struggled with showing his emotions properly due to the side of him that wasn’t fully human, but he took extra care to show you how he always felt.

Despite this, he didn’t know exactly how to react when he saw you with somebody that he wasn’t too fond of. It felt like a deep punch to the gut and an irrational thought crept into his mind, daring to challenge the idea that you could be stolen away.

Choso in turn was accidentally upfront about it, straight up asking you if you liked someone else that wasn’t him, immediately regretting asking you such a thing the longer that the question hung in the air.

You were quick to comfort his concerns though, giving him a whole grand speech about how nobody on this earth could compare and how you’d never let him go.

Yet, it still wasn’t enough.

As his feelings ate him up from the inside, he found himself obsessing over every little thing that you did while being perhaps what could be interpreted as paranoid. Overbearing, even. For example, when you got up to use the bathroom in your shared home and he freaked out about you leaving, you knew that something was up.

Curiously, you poked and prodded until you got to the bottom of it all; finding that it was jealousy at fault all along. Again. While finding it somewhat absurd with how he reacted, you were forgiving with him.

He was still figuring out how to process emotions properly. He was still learning.

Your solution was simple enough; to give him some reassurance sealed with a kiss for every single worry that he had.

And as it turned out, it was going to be a long night.

Shoko Ieiri:

Shoko was never one for jealousy or petty discourse, knowing that the best way to settle any sort of relationship doubt was to push through by simply being a good partner rather than overthinking every little blip.

For one, she knew that you loved her because you always showed her that. You wouldn’t be going the extra mile with everything that you did if you didn’t, that much would be silly.

Every morning you’d prep her coffee the exact way she liked it and would even set extra alarms on your phone to make sure she had absolutely no chance of snoozing through her own.

You’d give her incredible head after long and draining night shifts, being sure to match her sleep schedule because you worked from home and could do just that.

You even kept a bottle of her favourite red stashed in the cupboard at all times, just in case she really needed a drink.

No, she’s never been worried about you.

However, lately… there has been an annoyance, to put it lightly.

It wasn’t that she had a reason to doubt you, but maybe it was her own doing? She didn’t want to think it, but it made some sense in her head.

Someone had been getting too cosy with you and it’s been rubbing her the wrong way. Initially, she blamed herself for it. She had been stuck at work for two weeks straight and her main concern was that she might have been neglecting the relationship, pushing you away unintentionally.

In an attempt to smooth things over and to secure an eternal place in your heart, she told her employer to stuff it and took a mandatory Friday night off to surprise you early.

She did everything correctly; picking up drinks, snacks and a takeaway from that place you both really liked. She even had a movie in mind for you both to snuggle up to all night.

Confused as to what brought this all on, you asked her if she was feeling okay. To this, she simply shrugged while maintaining her calm and collected demeanour, claiming that work was slow anyway and she could be doing much better things on her Friday night; like spending time with you.

Shoko did consider bringing up the topic of jealousy up again but just seeing you almost crying due to the sight of her being sweet alone because she had managed to touch you with her words was evidence enough.

She never needed to worry in the first place.

And she felt silly for doing so.

Yuki Tsukumo:

To date Yuki was to date the embodiment of chaos itself.

She was a handful most of the time, but that’s exactly what you loved about her. You were a quiet person yourself and being with her challenged you.

Yuki offered you excitement in ways because she actually encouraged you to live life for what it was, rather than to remain all cooped up inside all of the time.

She’d oftentimes whisk you all around the country on the back of her motorcycle, daring for you to hold on tighter. You learned to love camping by her side, finding that there was nothing more truly romantic and beautiful than waking up to your girlfriend basking bare in the sunrise.

Everything was perfect.

Yet, when Yuki caught a glimpse of a text on your phone, she wasn’t quite sure how to feel exactly.

Momentarily she felt guilty for two reasons.

One, she snooped. Two, did she do something wrong?

Who was this mysterious person that you were calling cute and why were you saying that you couldn’t wait to meet her?

Convinced you were hiding something, Yuki decided to ask you straight up what the issue was. She waltzed over to you while you were cooking up breakfast (eggs on toast for two), asking what exactly what you were up to because you were being a little too cryptic for her liking.

Caught off guard but completely understanding of her concerns, you decided to spill the beans on what was supposed to be a surprise.

You asked her if she remembered giving her the green light to finally get a dog for their adventures.

Yuki froze in response, but she could finally see where this was all going. Her face flushed. Oh, what a fool she must have sounded like just now.

Turns out, you were looking for a puppy for the two of you to raise but you managed to find a very sweet rescue from a shelter nearby. You wanted to approach the subject of going to see it together, but you couldn’t help but sneak a visit by yourself to meet the sweet girl.

Yuki held onto her serious gaze for just a moment before she burst out laughing, repeating a mantra of “of course” and “I should have known” over and over again.

Obviously you wouldn’t cheat on her.

It really was that simple.

Sukuna:

By some miracle, you ended up not only surviving an audience with the alleged King of Curses himself, but you also managed to garner just enough interest from him to enter a relationship with him.

Not that he gave you much of an option to refuse such an offer though. Your very first date with him entailed him showing up right outside the front door of your apartment, snatching you away in your pyjamas to a secluded spot somewhere in the mountains.

If you were to be completely honest, you thought that you were going to die the first few times you were carried off somewhere by him.

But that was a worry you reluctantly pushed aside the longer that time went on.

Sukuna had his good moments, after all. It was a little alarming at first with how blunt he was and how quickly he switched from brutal honesty to a joking mood about something so seemingly unserious, but you did try your best to keep up.

Sukuna liked this about you, that you were willing to adapt.

He also took care of you, at least in his own excessive way. Sometimes it would be something innocent and simple like making sure you took good care of your body and at other times, it bordered irrational when he purged half of your closest because the fabric that was allowed to touch your skin could only come from the finest cloth.

Sometimes, his care bordered insane too. You shuddered when you thought back to the look on your landlord’s face when he pulled his last stunt. Installing high security prison levels of surveillance over your apartment just to ensure that nobody could even look in your direction without there being evidence of such a thing.

So, when you were assigned to work with someone new at your job, he immediately didn’t like them. Usually, he didn’t care about such trivial matters, but this guy clearly thought he had a chance with you? The audacity.

It was pathetic, even.

If only the poor sucker knew that you were already taken by the man from his nightmares though.

Rather than addressing the issue in a healthy way, he decided to skip right ahead of time and simply… dispose of the person in question. He arranged for Uraume to tackle the threat however they preferred, as long as their presence could never be felt within the immediate vicinity again.

This sort of behaviour was unfortunately doomed to repeat however many times it took and every time that it did, he would be sure to give you a night in bed that you would be foolish to forget; to remind you of your place in his life again and again.

That through it all, you were his and his alone.

Uraume:

Life with Uraume was simple but fulfilling. While they were work oriented and took their role very much seriously, they were still fiercely loyal to you; the only other person (Sukuna) who could truly understand them.

It didn’t really take much for you to make their day. Even just sitting in silence with them after a long shift as they laid their head in your lap, your fingernails lightly massaging their scalp was the definition of heaven to them.

Or even just things like talking about your day was enough, no matter how mundane. It was never a chore to listen to the sound of your voice.

Uraume was particular, after all. They craved closeness but only with you, claiming that your touch was the answer to all of life’s problems.

One particular night, they were pardoned from work earlier than usual and had a night off for a change. So imagine their combined confusion and surprise when you weren’t home for once.

Alarm bells rang in their head and upon texting you (calls were still a work in progress, they didn’t like them too much), just to see where you were, they found that they didn’t like the answer at all.

You replied that you were with a friend just watching a movie, but you didn’t know that they had a night off that day but you’ll be back soon enough.

Uraume didn’t reply to you, feeling something strange boil away from the pit of their stomach. They knew that you were more sociable than them and had more friends, but something stung about how casual you were.

It was like you cared more about your friends than them?

Even if they didn’t give you a heads up about their earlier arrival, it still felt bad to know you could just easily spend time with someone else.

When you finally made your way home, Uraume hadn’t eaten a single thing and was left simmering away with irritable hunger from the moment you walked back inside.

Treating you initially coldly, they made sure to point out exactly where you went wrong.

Just watching a movie? But that’s something you did with them too. Next you’d be saying that you were going to treat your friends to dinner or that you were going to go on trips abroad with them.

You knew them too well, though. Thawing past Uraume’s icy exterior wasn’t an issue for you and you knew just how they could get.

Your reaction as a result was to sit right by them, pulling them close as they reluctantly obliged. You would indeed justify your right to treat your friends well, but you would also remind them that yes, while you do watch movies with them too, you don’t however hold their hands during such things the same way. You don’t pet their hair while they’re cuddling up against you, because that’s something special.

You tried to explain to the best of your ability that there are ways to platonically spend time with your friends in a way that could never compare to the intimacy that you shared with them.

Something that couldn’t be replicated nor replaced.

So please to not worry.

And so, reluctantly accepting such a response, Uraume would indeed slowly melt at your words just because you had no reason to lie about such a thing.

What you had was special and you wouldn’t do that with anyone else.

You loved each other and that’s just how it was always going to be.

Kenjaku:

By some bizarre turn of fate, you ended up becoming entangled in what must have been the strangest relationship of your entire life.

Kenjaku wasn’t entirely dishonest with you in your time dating him, surprisingly. But he did find your judgement to at least be a little questionable the longer you kept tolerating him and his antics.

It was straight up almost concerning to him when you accepted the grand reveal of his great plans or when he informed you that he was nothing more than a brain in a suit. Not even the mention of his true age could shake you.

The reality was that you were mostly… fascinated. You never met someone like him before and every single day with him felt like something straight out of an old Scooby Doo episode because he was almost comically villain-like, always going off on long and elaborate speeches about something strange.

Aside from that, he was fine. At least somewhat.

He went out of his way to have a very… specific sort of relationship with you. In some ways, he reminded you of a crow or maybe a magpie, with the way he always left behind strange trinkets to find, just to study your reaction.

Sometimes he’d announce intricate facts about yourself that you didn’t even know and at other times, things would go missing from your apartment, leaving you wondering if they had ever existed at all.

He simply thought that you were a peculiar person and he enjoyed pushing you to your limit just to see just how far he could go with you.

One thing did come to bother him though.

It was when you befriended someone that in his eyes, he considered to be extremely boring.

You see, he only allowed himself to indulge in a romantic relationship with you because you were interesting to him. People like you were rare and this era managed to bless someone like you within his close proximity. As a result, he was going to keep you around if he could help it.

The idea of you investing your time into someone completely boring though? He wasn’t having it.

Much like Sukuna, he wouldn’t even ask you about the person in question. Instead, he’d take matters into his own hands but not before having some fun with it all.

So after sending you on a long and elaborate scavenger hunt to keep you busy for the day, he’d snatch up the person who was getting a little too suspiciously close to you for his liking. He’d lure them in through dubious means( like a trap and then ponder exactly what he would do with them once they took the bait.

Admittedly, he didn’t plan that far ahead.

Unlike the rest of his plans that were actually better thought out, he didn’t have such a luxury when it came to working around his jealousy.

Such an annoying emotion.

Initially he was going to play a strange game of would you rather with the poor sap, increasingly turning the questions into something more and more disturbing by the second but ultimately, he decided that maybe just chasing the guy through the woods with an axe in his hand could be a lot more fun instead.

And should you dare ask or enquire about what happened to your “friend” or whatever relation they had to you, he would do his best to convince you that such a person never existed to begin with.

You needn’t worry about such boring people, after all.

[scriveyner]

shoot out

There were several styrofoam darts scattered just outside the genkan as Akutagawa took his shoes off and shook his head, Rashomon juggling the multiple grocery bags. There was laughter and the rapid thud of retreating footsteps, as well as the very solid sound of a small weretiger bouncing off a hard surface.

The weather had been poor lately, and the rain kept everyone inside. Based on the expended ammunition, it looked like someone finally dug the toy blasters out of the closet while he was out.

He really thought he’d hidden them better.

“Weretiger?” Akutagawa called, and got no immediate response, although there was more faint laughter. He walked into the main room.

Atsushi was lying in the middle of the floor, a couch cushion held to his chest and his eyes closed. The low table had been pushed out of the way, and there was a multicolored array of styrofoam darts littering the floor around his head. “Are you dead?” Akutagawa asked.

“Very dead,” Atsushi confirmed, without opening his eyes. “It was a very dramatic death, you missed it. Award-winning.”

Akutagawa looked around the room; aside from the furniture being pushed against the walls nothing appeared to be broken. “The rain should stop soon, I hope,” he said. Atsushi snorted.

Rashomon formed a small shield over his head and three foam darts pinged off his ability. The shots came from above, Akutagawa placed the grocery bags on the counter and without even looking plucked Ryuu-chan from atop the fridge and flung him out of the kitchen. “Your father is playing dead, go shoot him a few dozen more times.”

He heard Atsushi laugh, then go, “no, Ryuu-chan, enough—” and yelp. There was more laughter from the main room, and Akutagawa smiled as he put the vegetables out for washing

[godspeedviper]

Christian Woman - Jonathan Crane x Preacher's Daughter Reader (+18)

𖤐 Synopsis: Jonathan Crane and the preacher’s daughter drive up to a lover’s lane in an old truck with the intention of indulging the Devil on this hot summer evening.

𖤐 Type: Established Relationship || Fluff and Smut

𖤐 Word Count: 826

𖤐 Rating: Mature || PiV || Underage drinking and smoking

𖤐 A/N: This is the second work in the preacher's daughter series! (Yes, I'm making it a series!) First work can be found here

Forgive her,

For she knows not what she does.

  One summer night – the moon was full yet the sun hadn’t fully set – the cicadas and grasshoppers and frogs all sang the song of the south, of lust, of heat. Tithonus’ hymn to Aphrodite. We drove out into the fields on her daddy’s old pickup truck, stopping at the edge of town where the terror of the Appalachians met the terrors of small town farmland, a symbolic sort of crossroads upon which to meet with the Devil and sin. 

  Sin! Sin! Sin! Oh! The Devil was ever-present in the south, you could feel his oppressive presence in the humidity, see his glowing red eyes nestled in the tall grass watching as you walked to and fro. God should forgive us for succumbing to his temptations, for the Devil was our neighbor, how could we not give in? 

A cross upon her bedroom wall

From grace, she will fall.

An image burning in her mind

And between her thighs.

  A crucified scarecrow bore witness to our consummation, watching solemnly from its post – I feel that way now, condemned to reminisce but not partake – but in the heat of the moment we paid it no mind. Through the veneer of love, everything is beautiful. Through the hunger of lust, everything can be devoured, and I was all mouth. A thick sheen of sweat coated her from head to toe, giving her skin a pearlescent glow that made me believe in divinity, even if only for a moment. Perhaps God was not to be found in the pages of the Bible or even in the pews of a church. Perhaps God was inside of her all along. 

Before him, beg to serve or please

On your back or knees

She looked at me as I undressed with a reverence I’ve not seen even amongst the most pious; I was her God and she was my salvation. 

“Fuck me,” she said. 

  Oh how sweet those foul lips taste! There is bliss in the profane. Perhaps this was the moment in which I became what I am today, where I first tasted the fruits of misbehavior. My inexperienced hands roamed her body like spiders, propelled by natural instinct alone, frantically running through every curve and crevasse. At long last my hands found purchase in her hair, holding the strands like reigns as I chased my orgasm at full gallop, thrusting into her with reckless abandon. I watched her eyes roll into the back of her head like a woman possessed and felt her body press into mine as her spine arched up off the bed of the truck. Her legs then wrapped around my hips, ensnaring me like game; she always was a good hunter. 

She’d like to know God

Love God

Feel, feel, feel her God

Inside of her

Deep inside of her.

“You’re going to Hell, Jonathan Crane.” She said with a giggle as I lit her cigarette, a tried and true cliche. “Fuckin’ the preacher’s daughter and providin’ her with smokes n’ drink. What a bad boy you are!” 

“If I’m goin’ to Hell it will be on your heels, my dear Eurydice.” I leaned in close to her and lit my own cigarette with the burning end of hers, gently cupping her face in one hand. 

“You ain’t no Orpheus,” she scoffed. “You’re too smart, and shit at the guitar let alone a lyre.” 

“And you ain’t no paragon of justice either.” I teased.

I got up off the bed of the truck and went around to the passenger side, folding the seat forward to pull out the small red cooler sitting on the back seat. I cranked the volume up on the dashboard, the music blaring out of the old speakers, and I jumped back onto the bed of the truck, one hand outstretched to offer her a drink. 

“O dreaded Persephone! Will you have me as your Hades?” 

“Hell yeah.” She replied, bumping her drink to mine. “Cheers!” 

In a town so steeped in religion, blasphemy felt like freedom. We had carved out this little pocket of existence for ourselves, outside of town, outside of our daily troubles. I stood up, outstretched my arms like a cross, and began to sing along to the music blaring from inside the vehicle. 

Jesus Christ looks like me

Jesus Christ, yeah

Jesus Christ looks like me

Jesus Christ, ah

Her laugh echoes through my mind, haunting my memories though her name has long since turned to ash in my mouth. That was the one and only time I felt any semblance of true confidence in myself, and the only time I was ever truly loved. This was the point of inception for The Scarecrow. The God of Fear born out of the only moment of confidence in my life. And so, I look into the rusty old mirror, and slip on the burlap mask.

"Jesus Christ looks like me." 

Ao3 || Ko-Fi || Submit

[brewstersbru]

Hey folks have some huskerdust !! 🕷️♥️

“I know, I know Legs. I just need to ask you something.” Angel’s eyes scrunch closed and the rest of his expression crumples as he whines out, short and low. Husk hovers his hands over the mottling of bruises and cuts that litter his torso, some still sluggishly bleeding. He itches to bandage them up, but stays himself with the sobering thought that Angel is used to guys touching him when he’s unconscious.

“Angel.” He tries again. Angel shakes his head minutely. “-on’t wanna.” He whines.

“Look at me please? I just want to check that it’s okay that I touch you. You know it’s important to me.”

Angel, with a long, juddering sigh, pulls himself from the cusp of sleep and blinks his eyes open. He frowns, glaring a little as he yawns into his hand. Husk waits patiently at his side, knees beginning to ache with being pressed against the hard wooden floor for so long.

“I told ya I don’t care what you do when I come back doped out like this, Whiskers. Not like I’ll remember it. Hah!” His laugh comes out rough, like it hurts to push from his lips. Husk shakes his head.

“And I told you it doesn’t matter if you’ll remember it or not. I’m not going to be another man who takes advantage of you.” He says, carefully enunciating each word so the message gets through.

Angel curses and flops over onto his side which draws his face infinitely closer to Husk’s own. He meets his eyes with a burning, lidded gaze. Husk keeps his posture relaxed, but his tail puffs at the sudden movement.

“Yer a softie, Husk. I don’t think ya could take advantage of me if you wanted to.” The words are coupled with a rickety, slapped on grin. Husk desperately wants to just shake him until he gets it through his big thick head that that’s not the point. It doesn’t matter what he thinks, it matters what he wants. Does he want Husk touching him after an abusive, grueling shoot? That’s what Husk’s asking, not if he ‘trusts’ him. He sighs.

“You didn’t answer my question. Can I touch you? Just give me an answer and then you can go back to sleep. God knows you’ll be needing it.” And it’s true. Who knows what Val has in store for him tomorrow? He’s better off getting all the rest he can get, while he can.

Angel appraises him with a long, considering look. There’s a lot going on behind his eyes and though Husk is aware of the fact of it, he can’t begin to try to fathom what exactly his thoughts are in this moment. He simply sits back on his heels and awaits his verdict. Every so often his eyes are drawn down to the mess of Angel’s torso. It’s not an intentional thing, but he can feel his hackles rising with the need to Fix It. Husk crushes the feeling down.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity but in reality couldn’t have been longer than five minutes, Angel closes his eyes.

“Yeah. Yeah Husk, you can.” He says, voice as small as Husk thinks he’s ever heard it. It’s strange to hear him so soft when usually he overtakes rooms with booming confidence; he even looks small, now, tucked into himself and using all of his arms to hug himself close as he hunches over.

He doesn’t- maybe he can’t- look at Husk when he speaks. Husk takes the words for the olive branch that they are and nods.

“Okay. Thank you, Angel. S’ all I needed.”

Angel just nods, curling further into himself for a moment before abruptly turning onto his back and feigning sleep. They both know he’s awake- he’s not snoring as loudly or as endearingly as he would if he truly was asleep- but Husk doesn’t call him on it, just reaches down to the first aid kit he’d dragged over in his initial protective rage and starts unpacking the necessary materials. Alcohol (not the fun kind), gauze, tape, and Angel’s preferred- though he’d never tell you it- heart-patterned bandages.

Another glance at Angel’s stiffly unmoving form reminds him that he hadn’t even had time to remove his makeup before passing out from exhaustion. Smears of glittery pink decorate his eye sockets, smudged from what Husk can only assume were punishing bouts of sweat and exercise. Husk pushes down the surge of indignation this thought elicits and smooths Angel’s hair back, thumbing for a moment near his hairline, before standing.

“Be back in a sec. Forgot something.” He keeps his voice low, tries for soothing but probably achieves something more like a dying wood chipper. Angel- who had up until that point been tightly coiled, as if expecting a blow- eases into the cushions at the sound. He hums, “Mmk. Thanks.”

Husk doesn’t respond lest Angel figure out from the cadence of his voice that Husk doesn’t need to be thanked. That he wants to do this. That he likes it.

It’s just- Angel always looks so at peace in these moments. The usual tension in his body melts away leaving nothing but the rawest and purest version of him. Husk loves that version of him, and he loves that Angel trusts him enough to show him it.

Husk returns after a minute or two with a pack of makeup wipes, Angel’s preferred brand, that he’d bought not too long ago precisely for moments like this. Angel was always complaining about glitter getting into his eyes when he forgot to take his makeup off and Husk saw an opportunity to Fix It. There’s not a lot in Angel’s life that Husk is able to help with, but this is something. And he jumped at the chance.

Angel is snoring lightly, right back at the cusp of oblivion that Husk had so heartlessly torn him from before. He sniffs and turns toward Husk when he settles back at his side, curling slightly into his warmth. Husk can’t help the smile that infects his features at the movement.

With careful, callused fingers, Husk begins to dab at the cuts on Angel’s torso. He’s not sure how to feel about the fact that Angel only flinches at the initial sting, not the rest of the painful swipes. It speaks to a depth of experience with this kind of thing that Husk vehemently dislikes the thought of Angel having to go through. Sure, in theory he knows Angel’s been subjected to this bullshit for decades, but to see it spelt out like this? So clearly and heartbreakingly? Husk has to take a moment between cleaning and bandaging the wounds to collect himself.

Angel whines when he takes his hands away.

“Easy. Easy, Legs.” He wants to call him ‘baby’ but isn’t convinced enough of Angel’s unconsciousness to chance it. Angel huffs.

The rest of the bandages go on easily enough, with minimal protests from Angel- which, somehow only seem to occur when Husk pulls away- and Husk smooths a healthy amount of bruise cream on each of Angel’s visible bruises. He’s almost certain there are more hidden beneath the- admittedly skimpy- clothing Angel is wearing, but is unwilling to undress him like this.

Pulling the surprisingly fluffy throw blanket from the back of the couch, Husk drapes it over Angel’s form, smoothing the sides down and tucking his arms beneath its warmth so he doesn’t wake up cold.

Husk is methodical in his cleanup of the first aid supplies, drawing each movement out so that he has more of a reason to stay in the room. To look at the rare smooth openness of Angel’s expression.

Once finished, he sets the kit to the side and picks up the makeup wipes, pulling one from the pack and pinching it between his pointer and thumb as he leans over Angel’s face. He moves one hand to cup his cheek, and the other to begin swiping lightly across Angel’s left eyelid.

Angel flinches a little at the unexpected contact, eyelids fluttering as his expression scrunches, disrupting the smooth peace Husk had so adored. It strikes something sore within Husk to watch.

“Hey. Hey, you’re okay, Baby. I’m not gonna hurt you. Go back to sleep.” The ‘baby’ slips out, Husk just can’t filter his words as carefully when Angel is so close, and so clearly hurting.

Angel’s expression smooths at the sound of his voice, at first fractionally, then all at once. It’s a gift to witness.

He leans his cheek further into Husk’s hand and Husk, unable to curb the small chuckle that bursts from his chest at the sight, smooths his thumb underneath Angel’s newly cleaned eye.

This is perfect. If life was fair and they were free this could be their normal, their everyday intimacies, indulged in unrestrained bliss. Husk allows himself to live in the thought for a moment before moving to clean Angel’s other eye.

He doesn’t flinch this time, simply sinks into Husk’s hand as it cradles his face and tips his right side towards him. Husk lets his fingertips linger against smooth, cool skin as he works. Swiping tenderly with each pass, as if Angel were something worth treating carefully.

Husk finishes his work without fanfare and, with an indulgent, lingering press of his lips to Angel’s warm forehead, he stands.

Only to nearly keel over when he meets Angel’s own, lidded- but OPEN- eyes.

“FUCK!”

Angel laughs, but it’s small and syrupy. Real.

“Thanks, Babycakes.” He offers, reaching his arms above his head in a stretch before settling back, deeper under the covers. “You sure know how to treat a guy. Careful what you offer, though, okay? Might end up with a junkie on your ass if it's too sweet.”

Husk understands what he’s really trying to say and shakes his head.

“Any time, Angel.”

[snaileer]

How A Ghost Town Dies

They say that if you drive down Interstate X, take the exit off of Elmerton, there’s an abandoned town.

Amity Park, they called it. ‘A nice place to live’ said the lopsided sign at the edge of the road.

‘ I’m still here’ says the graffiti on the back of the rusted metal, visible only in your rear view mirror.

They say that the town was once a city. That the long empty houses were once full, the stores once busy and the roads once clean. But by now the woods have grown back into the property lines anyways, blurring them with sidewalks cracked by roots and gates opened by creeping vines and crawling rust. Trees have sprouted thick in the middle of roads and a canopy of leaves like the cover of streetlights.

There’s no way this could have ever been a city; ‘But it once was’ they say.

When people walked the streets and children played in the yards, there was life.

There were flowers and laughter and voices on the wind.

They say that something happened.

That something changed.

It was not quick. As death rarely is.

But still.. there was an instant, where things changed. Though it wasn’t just one moment that anyone could tell you, only that it did.

They say that monsters attacked, that creatures no one could explain suddenly appeared.

They say there were protectors who fought the monsters. People who fought back, if they were people at all.

They say that’s what killed the town. The fighting.

Streets mangled by craters and walls burned by battlefire.

They say it’s still alive.

Oh there is no life, no people or children playing in the streets, though you may hear their voices on the wind.

There is no life, but it is still alive.

It must be.

Because they say that if you drive through town theres a building. Half-collapsed and charred, old metal still screwed into the side of the awning.

They say that as you enter, you’ll hear the sound of pounding footsteps down the stairs or hallway, like a child running in.

They say that if you stand too still, you’ll see your breath puff in front of you even on the hottest summer day.

They say that you’ll see the flicker of green eyes in your peripheral and the flash of black hair disappearing around a corner.

They say that if you enter the basement, there’s a hole in the wall, and from the moment you step down the stairs, a scream lingers in your ears.

Not everyone hears it, and those that do, rarely want to.

You’ll leave the house feeling chilled, tired, and afraid, though you couldn’t explain why.

And as you talk to your friends about one thing or another, you may feel a listening ear over your shoulder, eavesdropping for snippets of the world outside of the small town roads.

And they say that as you turn back on the roads, and make your way back to the highway, you’ll feel that listening ear fade away.

And they say that if you bother to look back, you might even see someone standing at the town line, watching you leave.

That’s the thing about a ghost town.

To be a ghost town, it must first die.

And when it does, when it truly becomes a ghost town, it becomes a part of a different world and it becomes unchanging to ours.

Where no one new ever truly stays.

And no one left behind ever truly leaves.

[youling-the-ghost]

This was a section in my tagging on ao3 post, but I feel like it deserves its own post.

Just to clarify, I'm not accusing anyone of doing anything disrespectful; this fandom has been nothing but lovely and I haven't had a single bad interaction in this fandom as an RPF writer. However, I have seen people in other RPF fandoms be rude and generally unpleasant, so I feel like this is something that needs to be said (especially as the fandom is starting to grow). I have also seen real people be put off by RPF fics that were sent to them, so just to repeat myself: do not send any RPF works to the boys. It doesn't matter if it's smut or not, just don't do it.

You can have your opinion about RPF, however positive or negative as it may be, but I beg of you to please not be hostile towards people with an opposing opinion. This goes for both RPF lovers and haters.

[desired-fantasy-writings]

(Most) NSR characters reaction to receiving flowers from their S/O

Request by: I forgor

Warnings: None

Readers Gender: Gender Neutral

Fanfic Type: Headcanon

Fanfic Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1028

Zuke

For being the chillest dude in the city, he honestly grows confused, yet flattered. He isn't much into flowers, but he appreciates them never the less with a growing blush on his cheeks. He's never gotten flowers from anyone before, but he'd rather buy his S/O flowers instead cause he loves to see their reaction (including giving them lots of kisses right after.)

DK West

Same as Zuke (cause he's his older brother obviously, duh) but acts very excitable as he picks his S/O up in a big bear hug. He's quite surprised they did something quite out of the norm, but he appreciates their enthusiasm when they show him the flowers with a jolly yet anxious look on their face. 

Mayday

Oh boy. If you thought she was already cracked, she'd be even more cracked tossing the thought of personal space out the window when her S/O gives her flowers. She's always excited getting anything from her S/O in general really, but the flowers they picked out were her favourite colour (and they smelt nice.) Since she lives in a sewer, she couldn't keep the poor things alive. Zuke told her so after all.

Eve

Poor thing grows into a blushing mess, basically speechless. She's just so appreciative while loving the generous gift. The flowers that her S/O gifted her gave Eve the inspiration she needed for her next art piece. This new sense of inspiration lead Eve to taking the flowers (including their S/O) to her studio and started a new project that evolved all around them, the flowers, and every amount of love Eve has for her S/O into it. 

Tatiana

Doesn't seem amused or impressed by them at first, but she takes the flowers from her S/O and thanks them anyway. Tatiana is quite a softy when she's alone so when no ones looking (including her S/O) she's able to finally use a somewhat-expensive-vase that was the perfect size for the flowers, leaving them in her office. When her S/O comes up to her office, they seem them on the table while Tatiana admired them. Let's just say after that happened Tatiana and her S/O have an "argument" about who's the cutest one now in their relationship. 

Neon J

He finds it weird at first (regardless of his S/O's gender) Neon only acted like this not to hurt their feelings of course, but this was just something he wasn't used to. Time passed by until Neon grew flustered, but his S/O caught him read-handed, pulling him into a hug. Neon J admits it while hugging them back, no longer being able to hide it behind his tough exterior anymore.

Rin (1010)

Would be in complete shock. He thought it was supposed to be the other way around. The bouquet of camellia's where beautiful to his eyes though. He's quite flattered either way, (and very blushy) and doesn't know what to say or do. Being the emotional robot Rin was, he almost bursts into tears, but holds them in and brings his S/O in a bone crushing hug after snapping himself out of his shocked state.

Zimelu (1010)

His face is as bright as a lava lamp once he sees a bouquet of amaryllis's in his S/O's hands. He felt strange receiving flowers, but thankfully takes them into his hands with a quick thank you. He basically turns very tsundere. He won't admit it, but after he received the flowers, he immediately looks for a vase and got them all nice and pretty on his nightstand right by the window, admiring them.

Purl-Hew (1010)

Acts very tsundere receiving the flowers. They were gorgeous blue flowers. He tries to hide his blushing, bright cheeks, but fails miserably. He also tries to hide a growing smile on his face. If him and his S/O are alone, he'd hold them close and kiss them all over their face. Since he's too shy to speak at that moment, his actions spoke for him.

Haym (1010)

Knowing how Haym is receiving any gift from his S/O, he was a thrilled blushy boy after receiving the bouquet of blue violets. Yeah, they'll die eventually, but it's the meaning behind the flower and the thought that counts! Haym showers his S/O with affection after receiving them.

Eloni (1010)

Doesn't know how to react to the bouquet of pink roses. He was pretty shocked. His cheeks grew the brightest they've ever been, blinding their S/O's eyes slightly. He apologizes and says he can't help it with a giant smile on his face while picking up his S/O to take them to his room to shower then with affection.

DJSS

DJ's reaction was... not too pleasant at first. He acted like his egotistical self, but he was a bit more rude about it (cause of his masculinity, but he wouldn't tell his S/O that) He kept calling them simpleton, but not in a joking way like he usually would. This left his S/O saddened, feeling tears start falling down their eyes. They begin to walk away as the flowers plopped on the ground. After hearing them leave, DJ huffs, feeling bad that he reacted the way he did. He turns around in his chair to see the flowers on the ground. They were a mixture of colours just like the galaxy. DJ then realized he fucked up, getting up to grab the flowers and looked for his S/O. He felt his heart sink as he quickly grabbed his phone to call them. Not to get too personal or anything, but when his S/O picked up, DJ was already driving to their house to cater and love them to apologize for him being such an asshole. 

Kliff

This rat of a man acts quite tsundere. He acts like he's upset and despises the flowers, but truly he doesn't. He's always appreciated and loved plants, but he wouldn't tell his S/O that so they could embarrass him even more with their way of expressing their love and affection for him.

[afewproblems]

In My Heart is a Memory (And There You'll Always Be) Part Two

Part One

Steve spends his week in the hospital on oxygen and fighting pneumonia from his bed. A harsh wheezing sound has developed whenever he pushes too hard but Doctor Sattler isn't nearly as concerned as Steve the first time he hears it.

"It shouldn't worsen over time, but if you feel that the wheezing is becoming more frequent or that feeling of an elephant sitting on your chest comes back, you will need to use your new inhaler, today's the perfect day to learn how it works," Doctor Sattler told him with an air of nonchalance that did not match the news.

Two and two made four, the sky was blue, and Steve Harrington would need medication for the rest of his life.

Most of the time Steve sleeps fitfully, dreaming of cold grey water and kind brown eyes, but on the days he has more energy Steve walks around the ward with Claudia in between practising blowing into something called a spirometer. 

She tells him it's important to test his level of lung function and how he's improving, it should also help to reduce the wheezing sound when Steve is simply resting. He even gets one to take home with him. 

Steve listens as Claudia talks about her own son, he's eight years old and so curious about the world. It's obvious she loves him dearly.

Steve wonders if his own mother ever talks about him like that.

His mother checks in with him twice during the week. His dad has already left for his most recent work trip and Diane is planning to leave as well, at least until Sunday when Steve is expected to be discharged. 

“I’ll be gone for five days, but you’ll be here anyway, and they are taking good care of you aren’t they?” she asks, her voice uncharacteristically soft for once as she takes his cheek in her cold hand. 

Diane’s fingers brush the oxygen hosing around his cheek, Claudia had called it something weird --a canny-something-or-other. 

Diane lets go abruptly as if burned; her nose wrinkling slightly as she rubs her fingers against the palm of her hand. In one fluid motion, she stands up from her seat at the side of his bed and smooths down the blankets as she does so. 

Diane meets his gaze once, her pale blue eyes almost seem to look past him, before she hikes her handbag further up her arm.

“I’m leaving the number of the hotel with your Nurse Henry, and you’ll be home before you know it,” she nods with a forced smile and turns on her heel to slip out the door of his room before Steve can even correct her.

He hopes Claudia did get the number, that there isn’t some strange Nurse Henry with more access to his mother than even Steve is allowed. 

A small part of himself hopes that Eddie will come visit him.

It’s not likely, Eddie had seemed excited initially about showing him his Dungeons and Dragons book but how would he have any idea Steve would still be here.

That doesn't stop Steve from picturing Eddie yelling to his uncle as he bounds down the hallway, ‘Come on old man, Steve’s room’s gotta be here somewhere!’

But Eddie never materialises down the hall, armed with his players book or tales of dragons and knights.

Steve takes it in stride as much as he can.

The days blend together the longer he stays, but it isn't as though Steve has no one to talk to.

He asks Claudia more about her son and listens to the jokes the orderlies tell him when they come by with meals. Even Doctor Sattler stops by to check the machines by his bed and to watch him blow into the Spirometer.

It’s fine. 

Claudia gives him a long hug the day he's discharged. Steve isn't sure she's supposed to by the exasperated look Doctor Sattler gives her, but he says nothing and busies himself with writing something out on a small notepad.

"You be careful sweetheart, use your spirometer to practice and keep your inhaler on you at all times".

She sweeps his hair away from his face and squeezes his shoulder briefly before giving him the barest of pushes towards his mother who stands by the door.

Doctor Sattler hands Diane the two papers he's written out, "you'll have to fill these prescriptions, he'll need both of them before you head home". 

Diane nods and breathes out a clipped thank you before ushering Steve to the doors, he tries to turn to wave only for his mother to grip his shoulder firmly and walk him out.

He catches what he thinks may be concern in Claudia's eyes before the automatic doors close behind them and the familiar jingle of his mothers keys to the maroon beemer fills the air.

"We'll stop at Mevalds, you can wait in the car," Diane says as she opens the driver's side door and gets in. Steve hurriedly opens his own door as the engine starts, a small part of him wonders if she would leave him if he took any longer.

He closes the passenger door behind him, it's heavier than he remembers and a harsh wheeze fills the car as Steve breathes in slowly to halt the stuttering of his chest. 

He buckles in and looks up to find his mother watching him carefully. 

"Perhaps we should wait another week for you to go back to school," she hums, it's a voice she uses when thinking aloud but every instance of it usually happens when that thinking is about Steve.

"Why?" He asks as they pull onto the main road.

"You're making that awful noise," Diane says simply, "we should wait for it to stop, it will be distracting to your classmates".

A deep ache that has nothing to do with his lungs builds in his chest. He hadn't thought the sound was that noticeable. 

None of the other nurses or orderlies seemed to care about the new noise he made, or if they did they never said anything. Steve had been the one to ask about it,  concerned that he was the only one hearing it.

"Doctor Sattler said it should get better, but it won't go away," Steve argues with narrowed eyes, he crosses his arms over his chest and looks away towards the passenger window.

He hears Diane sigh as she signals to pull into the parking lot of Mevalds.

She turns off the engine and reaches into the back seat for her purse, leaning her hand against Steve's seat for balance.

Diane stops with her hand on the door handle, pausing as she turns to face him fully.

"I'm just looking out for you," Diane says softly, "the other children will notice eventually and the world isn't kind to people who are different Steven".

She gets out of the car, letting the words hang in the air. He watches her go into the store, already knowing he's lost. 

***

Steve's teachers welcome him back with little to no fanfare, Ms. Cuttler, the history teacher, even goes so far as to reprimand him for missing two whole weeks in front of the class. 

Steve doesn't need detention for 'mouthing off' on his first day back, no matter how unfair she's being. He manages to take his seat without speaking; he can't quite hide the angry red flush staining his cheeks though. 

Lunch is what Steve is looking forward to, he just has to make it to lunch, he can keep his head down until then.

Steve's last morning class is science. 

It's not his favourite class, but Mr. Clarke at least tries to keep it interesting for them, and he's always nice. Giving extensions on homework, half marks on tests rather than zeros with little comments in blue ink saying, 'I see where you were going with this, you almost got it!'

As soon as the bell rings, Steve grabs his backpack and books, uncaring of the homework instructions Mr. Clarke tries to yell over the clamouring kids and the last few notes of the bell.

"Oh Steve, you gotta sec?"

It takes every fibre of Steve's being not to just bolt from the room with the rest of the class, pretend he didn't hear.

It's your lungs that are screwed up now, not your ears, he thinks bitterly as he turns towards the front of the room where Mr. Clarke stands with a stack of xeroxed paper.

"Here's the homework you missed, if you can have it done for next week I think that'll keep you on track," he says with a smile that quirks his moustache.

Steve gives him a brief smile as he takes the stack of papers, "thanks, yeah I'll have it done by then," he tries for a grin, wincing at the raised eyebrow Mr. Clark gives him. 

They both know it will be late. 

Steve turns to leave again, with a forced half smile, but stops as Mr. Clarke clears his throat.

"They don't give us a lot of information about absences," he gives Steve a long look, "so all I'm going to say is if you want to chat, about anything, even if it's just homework, my door is open". 

Steve nods as Mr. Clarke gives him a kind half smile, patient like the ones Dr. Sattler or Claudia would give him after explaining how something worked. 

It's not something most adults put a lot of effort into, especially for Steve, writing him off if he doesn't understand something the first time it's explained. 

It's certainly not something his parents do for him.

"Sure Mr. Clarke," Steve mumbles as he tucks the papers into the textbook in his arms.

His teacher nods once and clears his throat awkwardly, gesturing towards the door, "Alright, you better get going," Mr Clarke says, "it's pizza day and I guarantee you the pepperoni is pretty much done at this point".

Steve snorts and takes a step back, "later Mr. Clarke," he calls over his shoulder as he makes his way past the empty desks and into the hallway, letting himself be guided by the stream of kids heading towards the cafeteria.

With the Hawkins Middle and High Schools being the only two secondary schools in the county, the buildings were naturally massive to accommodate all of the children and teens they housed on any given day during the school year.

The cafeteria was no exception.

Finding somewhere to sit was almost always impossible if you ran late to lunch, most students would give up trying to find a table and would end up settling by their lockers or sitting outside in the warmer months, but Steve was on a mission this time.

He looks around the busy room with his lunch tray, head on a swivel as he searches for a mop of curly brown hair. Eddie said he could sit at his table but he hadn't mentioned which one that was.

Steve walks along the wall, eyes scanning the tables, he begins to wonder if he had the wrong lunch period after all.

"I'm telling you, a beholder is the worst thing you could run into in a Dungeon, hands down--" 

Steve perks up at the voice, fairly certain he knows who it belongs to.

The relief is palpable as he continues forward, following the voice. A small part of Steve had begun to wonder if Eddie even went to his school, or if his muddled water logged brain had dreamed that up entirely. 

He finally spots Eddie at a table against the far back wall and has to stop himself from cheering as he makes a beeline for them, albeit more slowly than he would prefer. He's still getting winded easily and doesn't want to have to break out the inhaler the doctor gave him just yet.

There are two other boy's that Eddie is talking animatedly to, his hands gesturing wildly with a broad grin on his face.

Eddie spots him mid sentence and the effect is instant, his face lights up as he smiles and starts to wave before halting abruptly, a strange look passing over his face. 

"Hey!" Steve smiles, slightly uncertain now that Eddie's face has fallen into something unreadable. The other two boys at the table have turned to face him, their eyes scanning Steve up and down. 

The kid sitting closest to Steve, a black boy with braces and a t-shirt with something called Queen on the chest, Steve feels a spark of recognition at the name and makes a note to ask him about it later. He gives Steve a small polite smile which makes him feel slightly less nervous.

The other boy sitting closest to Eddie eyes Steve somewhat warily, he's wearing a Hawkins Middle school shirt, thick glasses with tape around the frame, and wavy brown hair that isn't as long as Eddie's but longer than Steve's mother would ever allow.

They all stare at Steve for what feels like an eternity before he clears his throat awkwardly.

"Um, my name is Steve--" he starts to say, reaching out a hand to the closest boy before Eddie stands up from the table.

"Where were you?" Eddie says, uncaring of the sudden climb in volume or the heads that turn their way. 

Steve ignores the faces turned their way and takes another step forward towards the table, a small nervous laugh bubbles up as he moves, “I was sick, remember?"

Eddie frowns, his eyes dart from Steve to the other boy directly in front of him, closest to where Steve is standing.

"I wanted to show you my book two weeks ago," Eddie folds his arms over his chest now, frowning slightly, "Ms. Allen confiscated it," he mutters darkly.

Steve winces at the tone and brings his arms around himself, taking a step back. A small part of him curses his decision to stay home another week to let his breathing find some semblance of normal.

The teen closest to Steve rolls his eyes, "if it wasn't the handbook, it woulda been something else Ed, you know Allen's been looking for a reason to punish us since you told her that you got more out of Gary Gygax than anything Mark Twain ever wrote --plus there's a literal demon on the cover,” he says with a wry grin. 

"I'm Jeff," he says with a wave before pointing to the other kid at the table, "that's Bobby, and it seems like you already know Eddie?"

Steve gives Jeff a small, thankful, smile and takes a step closer, "yeah, it's a bit of a long story--"

"A heroic tale of rescue more like!" Eddie cuts in, the familiar energy fills Steve with relief as he launches into the story.

Jeff rolls his eyes again and shoots Steve an exasperated look before patting the bench next to him, an official invitation.

Steve tries to play off the wide grin that threatens to take over his face and takes a seat next to Jeff, setting down his lunch tray with a clatter.

"So,” Eddie sits up slightly, bringing his leg up onto the table bench to curl up underneath himself, “Uncle Wayne and I were fishing, right?"

"Fishing?" Bobby cuts in with a laugh, wrinkling his nose as he looks Eddie up and down, "you?"

"Yeah fishing, not all of us can just go to the grocery store whenever we want," Eddie huffs impatiently as his ears begin to redden, he waves his hands, "anyway".

"Instead of a trout we managed to catch something a little stranger,” he grins at Steve, “he was all caught up in some old fishing line or something and--hey, you never told us why you were out on the lake by yourself?”

Three sets of eyes turn to stare for a beat though Bobby loses interest fairly quickly, averting his eyes back to the open milk carton on his own orange lunch tray. 

Steve clears his throat, unsure just how to explain his thought process that morning. 

He just had to get out of the house, he couldn’t sit there any longer waiting for his dad to finally leave--

“Well?” Eddie prompts again, the smallest of frowns pulls at his expression before Jeff snorts.

"This is not very heroic so far man, where are the X-Men, the laser battles, come on dude," Jeff grins as Eddie sputters and launches into a rant about comic books that Bobby seems to perk up at, his attention switching from the lunch tray to Eddie.

Steve breathes out a sigh of relief as the attention moves away from him.

"You don't need lasers or special powers for hero stories, Tolkien didn't need idiots in spandex, he just needed a Hobbit and a ring and made a fucking masterpiece," Eddie 

"Are you seriously comparing yourself to Tolkien right now?" Jeff asks with a knowing smirk, it grows wider as Bobby laughs.

"Who's Tolkien?" Steve says, it's not a name he's ever heard before, though they must be some kind of storyteller. Was there a new book assigned while Steve was away recovering?

Eddie blanches for a second in surprise before his face lights up, he waves his hands at the chorus of groans from both Jeff and Bobby and cackles, "Stevie, Stevie, Stevie, we have so much to teach you!"

***

As the school year comes to a close, Steve finds himself looking forward to the summer for the first time in his life.  

Summer for Steve is normally lonely.

He spends his time looking for ways to avoid his house, counting down the days when he can go back to school. Even sitting through class or trying out for the intramural leagues is better than the monotony of summer.

At least during school he had people to talk to. 

But this summer is different. 

Steve, Jeff, Eddie, and Bobby get on like a house of fire, where one of the boys is, the other three are never far behind. 

They teach Steve about Dungeons and Dragons, Tolkien and the one ring --the book certainly reads like some of the books they had assigned in class, but Eddie and Jeff looked so excited the day Steve brought it home from the library, he couldn’t disappoint them.

In turn, Steve introduces the other boys to the pool, inviting the three of them to the Harrington house on a scorching June day.

“No way,” Bobby whispers as they reach the driveway, Jeff’s mouth drops into a little ‘O’ shape while Eddie’s eyes widen in surprise before his expression shutters. 

“You’re kidding right?” Jeff asks with a laugh in his voice, “seriously, where’s your moat man?”

Steve reaches out to push Jeff’s shoulder as Bobby laughs, “shut up, it's not that bad--”

“No? Are you going to bring out a unicorn next? What else are you hiding in there?” Bobby scoffs as he takes a hesitant steps towards the edge of the driveway, as though worried the ground would fall out from underneath him at any moment. 

“Oh just wait,” Steve says, biting his lip to keep his grin in check, it falters slightly at the pinched expression on Eddie’s face, the way his eyes flick from the house to Steve, before eventually landing on their feet.

Steve opens his mouth to ask what’s wrong but he’s forced to whirl around to keep his footing as Bobby drags him up the drive, “Steve, if you do actually have a horse in there, I will still be very impressed”.

While it may not be a unicorn, Steve knows he has one other ace up his sleeve as he presents them with the crown jewel of the Harrington house, the Atari.

“Oh my god!” Bobby crows as he jumps off the last step of the basement and races towards the television. 

“You have one of these!” he hisses incredulously, snatching the attached joystick from its resting place on the top, Steve winces as the cord pulls slightly from Bobby’s exuberance. 

“I mean, it’s my dads, not mine,” Steve shrugs, he puts his hands in his jeans pockets and turns back to Jeff and Eddie, “but we can play it, he’s not home”.

Diane argues the day his father brings the machine home. 

It must stay in the basement, out of sight, determining that something so hideous has no place in their well decorated living room. 

Ignoring the fact that the only television in the house was in the basement, Diane insists on keeping the rest of the house as pristine as Good Housekeeping has taught her. 

Richard simply rolls his eyes at his wife, ‘It’s not like it matters Diane, one of the investors thinks he’s being cute, like any son of mine would waste his time with one of these, right Steven?’

Steve nods, content to keep his head down, focused on his homework, not to make waves.

‘Course dad, computer games are for losers,’ the words come easily, he’s heard them before.  He flinches as a heavy hand comes down on his shoulder and squeezes lightly.

‘God damn right’.

‘Why are we even keeping it then?’ Diane asks sharply, her tone cool as she follows him down the stairs. 

Steve trails after them to the landing; he can still hear from the wary distance he keeps while his parents continue to talk. 

"Allan and the rest of the partners are coming in two weeks for drinks, and I’m not letting that prick get one over on me”.

Diane is quiet for a beat.

Steve tilts his ear to listen intently. He knows that silence. It's something his mother usually employs while calculating all options before speaking carefully.

‘Fine, I suppose the dust will collect best down here,” Steve can almost hear the sneer that pulls at his mothers mouth as she speaks. 

‘Atta girl,’ Richard  says quietly, almost fondly. 

Jeff raises an eyebrow as he comes to stand beside Steve, “you can’t play it if your dad’s home?” 

Steve falters for a second, scrambling for something to say.

Bobby scoffs by the television, still inspecting the machine, "you know how much one of these things costs? If we had one, my dad would flip if I so much as looked at it”.

Steve settles for shrugging with a mild smile, infinitely grateful for Bobby's ability to blurt out the first thing he thinks in any given situation.

If Jeff questions it, he doesn't say anything, and instead moves to join Bobby where he crouched on the floor.

Steve turns back to find where Eddie went only to find him frozen on the last stair still.

His eyes seem to trace over the room, an unreadable expression on his face, it contorts into something sour before smoothing as his gaze eventually lands on Steve. 

"Didn't know we pulled a rich kid outta the lake," Eddie says after a beat, finally walking further into the room, his arms crossed tightly over his stomach. 

"I guess," Steve says weakly as Eddie nods and moves towards where Jeff is kneeling beside Bobby with one of the game cartridges in his hands.

A spark of annoyance crackles through Steve, licking the inside of his ribcage. If Eddie isn’t interested in playing, he just has to say so, they can do something else - work on their character sheets, go outside. The other day Eddie showed them all the best spot by the quarry for throwing rocks so that the sound seemed to echo for miles as it hit the water. They could easily go, right now. 

They aren’t supposed to be touching this anyway, it’s not like it’s a big deal. It’s not. 

Steve knows the others don’t know how much trouble he could get into for this, the risk he’s taking for even showing it to them, for having kids over unsupervised, uninvited. 

 "Well, does that thing play Asteroids or what?" Eddie asks abruptly, interrupting Steve’s train of thought. 

He nods, quietly tamping down the last fleeting sense of irritation and walks over to the shelf where the rest of the games were dumped, wincing at the impressed chorus of whoops that Jeff and Bobby let out.

It only serves to accentuate the brooding silence that has followed Eddie all morning, since they walked over the threshold of Steve’s front door.

Jeff and Bobby take turns playing the rest of the afternoon. Steve defers to them, content to simply watch his friends try out the games. They bicker back and forth, making noises at key moments to try and break each other's concentration, Steve laughs brightly as Bobby manages to make Jeff crash for the fourth time in a row by simply imitating Rod Stewart.

“If you want my body and you think I'm sexy, come on, sugar, tell me so!” Bobby croons, making his voice older and raspy as he leans close enough for Jeff to twist his head away.

“Get outta here Bobby-- oh you sonovabitch!”

Bobby cheers, lifting his clasped hands above his head, “and the crowd goes wild, what do ya say, Jeff, best two out of three?”

Jeff flops backwards onto the carpet, pretending to catch an invisible dagger to the chest, “mark my words, if you strike me down, I shall become more powerful than you could possibly imagine!”

He rolls his head to the side and reaches out, pointing towards Steve with a cry, “Avenge me!” 

Steve laughs long and loud as Jeff croaks and groans and finally sticks his tongue out of the side of his mouth with a low hissing sigh as he finally pretends to die on the carpet of Steve’s basement. 

“So, what say you, Steve?” Bobby croaks as he lifts one hand to cover his mouth, and the other to hold out the abandoned joystick as he breathes out heavily, “do you dare take up the saber?”

Steve has no clue what they’re doing, a joke from something he’s sure, but he schools his face into something serious, and takes the joystick with a grave nod.

“For Jeff!” Steve cries as the digital melody fills the air.

Finally, Steve lets himself bask in the warmth and friendship that has surrounded him for the last few months, the normal chill of the Harrington home finally absent as Bobby begins to cheer while also doing his damndest to distract Steve. 

Jeff finally sits up with another hiss, “I LIVE, to see Steve beat your sorry ass Bobby!” 

He claps his hand on Steve's shoulder with a grin, “you got this!” 

It isn’t until a throat clears behind them that the three boys notice Eddie hasn’t said a word for the last ten minutes. 

He’s standing now, backpack slung over his shoulder --when did he go upstairs?

“It’s late,” Eddie mumbles quietly, “Wayne will want me home for supper soon”.

The words seem to break the spell that has fallen over the other two boys and they both stand as if summoned from their seats on the floor. 

Steve can only sit and watch as Jeff and Bobby move towards Eddie, albeit reluctantly. 

Jeff stretches out, raising his arms above his head, “yeah, I should probably go too,” he groans out as he drops his arms back at his sides. 

“Thanks for the game dude,” Bobby says with a shrug, though he looks decidedly more annoyed at the interruption than Jeff, “beats trying to escape the heat in the creek anyway”.

Jeff rolls his eyes, “It also beats shelling out quarters at the arcade on 4th Bobby, this was seriously really cool man”.

Steve grins at the pair of them before turning towards Eddie who glares at the floor in silence until Jeff elbows him. 

Eddie breathes out loudly through his nose, “yeah it was cool, but next time we should go over your characters a bit more, especially if you guys are going to survive the next encounter I designed”.

Bobby scoffs as he grabs his own messenger bag from the bottom of the stairs, “well I’m not going back to the library, Mrs. Depencier gives me the creeps”.

“The library is the only place with enough space,” Eddie argues as he turns and makes his way up the stairs.

Steve feels the words lift him up, this is his chance, he takes a step towards the other teens, “I could host?” 

Jeff and Bobby stop, turning back towards Steve with excitement in their gazes. Jeff seems to hesitate though, turning back to back to Eddie whose face is hidden by the edge of the staircase, Steve can only make out the bottom on his legs from where he’s standing.

He walks forward to the bottom of the staircase and stops short of taking the first step, “my parents aren’t home for the next four weeks so I can have you guys over, no problem”.

Bobby punches his fists into the air, "Yes! Oh my god, huge house, no parents?" Bobby jumps down the last two stairs again and nearly tackles Steve, "this is perfect!"

Perfect, is…certainly a word for it, not necessarily the one Steve would use, but Bobby wasn't here at night. 

Not when the glow of the pool would cast eerie shadows along the treeline that surrounded the Harrington backyard. Steve never felt comfortable sitting outside by himself once the sun went down, even now in middle school. 

All it took was one snapped branch in the dark or one flicker of shining eyes for him to race back into the kitchen, slamming the sliding door shut behind him.

The locked door never really feeling like enough by himself. 

"Four weeks?" Eddie says quietly as he takes a step down, his expression seems pained though Steve can't imagine why.

"I know it's not that long," Steve shrugs, "but we could do it in an afternoon right?"

Jeff's eyebrows rise, cutting shallow creases across his forehead, he and Eddie look at one another, seemingly having some kind of silent conversation before they both turn back to Steve at the same time.

"I need three days to finish it up, but that means we can meet in between to finish your characters," Eddie offers, the words slowly break the strange sudden quiet that has fallen over the basement. 

"Tomorrow?" Steve asks tentatively, 

"I'll be here, and hey if they don't come," Bobby says with a wry grin as he elbows Steve, "then I'll kick your ass at Asteroids!"

"We'll be here jackass," Jeff scoffs as Eddie nods silently.

He has a strange look on his face that Steve can't quite place, but at least he doesn't look annoyed anymore.

"Tomorrow then," Eddie confirms, grinning as Bobby blurts out a loud, 'hell yeah' as Jeff rolls his eyes once more.

The boys do eventually make their way upstairs, though at a snail's pace as the strange tension from earlier fades away. 

Steve walks them all to the door and watches as they make their way down the long drive, taking turns waving as their voices fade into the distance.

Steve swallows hard as he closes the front door, trying not to think too hard about how many hours until he'll hear his friends voices again.

Permanent Tag List: @eriquin @luvinthefreaks @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

[recycledraccoon]

Chapters: 2/2 Fandom: Dimension 20 (Web Series) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Adaine Abernant/Oisin Hakinvar, Adaine Abernant & Oisin Hakinvar Characters: Adaine Abernant, Oisin Hakinvar, Lucy Frostblade, The Bad Kids (Dimension 20), The Rat Grinders (Dimension 20) Additional Tags: most of these are mentions - Freeform, no beta's we die like lucy frostblade, Pre-Relationship, Pining, Possibly Unrequited Love, POV Second Person, Colored Text Summary:

Imagine you're a skinny little dragonborn wizard, in a class with a cute elven girl. You don't talk to her, but one of your adventuring party members is pissed thinking that party is getting preferential treatment, so you KNOW about her. You watch from the corner of your eye or from a spot on the back of the class whenever she's actually there.

[fawnovermind]

Made for @whumplovers-collaborate summer exchange!

I also wrote a small snippet for it if you would like to read that, you can find it and the art on my ao3!

[phoenixcatch7]

I swear if you write enough fics on ao3 you start to go dark. Like, no matter how fluffy and family friendly you start out, once you've written more than 30 fics you WILL have written at LEAST one hurt no comfort drabble featuring heavy themes, and/or 7k minimum of the filthiest smut.

I mean, at that point you have made the conscious decision to dedicate a significant portion of your free time to the uncensored wild wastes of ao3, it's understandable, but I cannot think of a single exception to the rule.

[godspeedviper]

Bunker Babe - Spencer x Goth!Reader (18+)

𖤐 Synopsis: You manage to finally convince Spencer to attend a bunker rave with you, but first he’s gotta look the part.

𖤐 Type: domestic fluff || smut || no gendered descriptions || goth reader || very firmly mid 00s

𖤐 Word Count: 1,543

𖤐 Rating: explicit || recreational drug use || semi public sex

𖤐 A/N: OxyContin has the highest bio-availability, orally. While not the same thing as dilaudid, its in the same ballpark and can be used in high quantities to approximate the dilaudid high despite their differing (optimal) routes of administration. ALSO I know this track isn't "technically" hard techno don't come at me over bpm or whatever the song is just here to set the mood.

“Babe, is this really necessary?” Spencer whines as he watches you tear through his closet in search of an outfit for tonight. 

“Yes!” You quip back. “What if someday your team needs you to go undercover at a bar or club for a case? You’re the youngest of the bunch so you know that statistically you’re most likely to be chosen for such a task.” 

He groans and rolls his eyes in defeat. “Okay okay! But only because you have statistics on your side.” 

“Oh don’t be too upset, pretty boy. I’ll make this worth your while.” You wink cheekily. “Promise!” 

At this, Spencer perked up. He watched as you lay out your choice of clothing onto his bed. You were already all dressed up for the night in skimpy black latex and mesh, with your favorite pair of platform Demonias to top off the look. Spencer’s hands were all over you as soon as he opened his apartment door for you, but tonight you had a mission and nothing, not even Spencer, was going to stop you. You sit down at the edge of the bed besides the clothing, and you wave Spencer over. 

“Come here, love.” You purred, and he instantly obliged. “Undress for me, darling.”

Spencer makes quick work of the buttons on his polo, while your hands reach to unbuckle his brown leather belt. He pulls his top off in a hurry, sliding off a pair of beige slacks, till he’s left standing before you in nothing but socks and briefs. You put your hands on his hips and he puts his hands on top of yours. You then tilt your head up, meeting his lust filled gaze. He takes in a sharp breath as you press your lips to the skin just below his navel. You take a gentle bite, and suck, leaving behind a bruise-like mark. 

“Good boy.” You whisper, pulling away from his torso. “Sit here.” 

  You stand up and switch positions with him, so that now Spencer is seated at the edge of the bed, and you’re standing in front of him. First, you grab a shirt off the bed. It was an old Nine Inch Nails tour shirt you got back in high school that was large enough to wear to bed whenever you were too incapacitated to bother changing into proper pajamas. You had left it at Spencer’s the last time you stayed over after scoring together, and it was now serving a greater purpose. You pulled it over his head, lovingly ruffling his head after it poked through the shirt. Your hands then reach back out to the bed and pick up a black pair of denim. Kneeling in front of him, you begin to kiss in between his thighs as your hands grab hold of his ankles, guiding him into each pant leg one at a time. 

“Finish putting these on for me. I’ll be right back.” You give his thighs a teasing smack and giddily make your way to the ensuite. 

“Oh no…” Spencer whines as he notices a hello kitty makeup bag in your hands and a devilish smirk on your lips. 

“Oh yes!” you reply. “Come on, Spencie! We gotta disguise you a little bit if you’re really that afraid of Garcia or her friends running into you. Besides, I have a gift for you in here.” 

You gingerly shake the bag like one would do with pet treats, and you quickly descend onto his lap, trapping poor Spencer beneath you. You unzip the bag and pull out a prescription pill bottle. Oxycodone 80mg, immediate release. 

“Ta da! Take these normally so the effects can kick in when we’re already at the party. This way we won’t risk being caught with it on us.” You wink playfully, shaking out a few green pills from the bottle onto your palm. “Alright now open up!” 

Spencer laughs and complies. You gently toss them into his mouth like m&m’s and watch his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallows the pills, enticing you forth to steal a loving bite. 

“Let's stay.” Spencer gasped out. “Please?” 

Still sitting on his lap you can feel his frustration slowly growing harder. For a moment there you’re tempted, but you quickly remember just how much more awaits you two tonight. 

“Nope, not staying!” You pull away from his neck, breaking the lustful spell.

Spencer pouts. 

 After swallowing a handful of pills as well, you turn your attention back to the makeup bag, rummaging around in search of a short black eyeliner and the accompanying pencil sharpener.

“Look up for me darling.” You say, placing a quick peck on Spencer’s pout and cupping his jaw with your free hand. “I promise you’ll thank me tomorrow. You’re gonna love tonight.” 

The pads of your thumbs delicately rub the skin of Spencer’s under eyes, smudging the charcoal-like pigment around into a messy raccoon eye style. You repeat the process on his eyelids until you’re satisfied. Then you toss aside the pencil and put a finger under his chin. 

“Open your eyes, love.” 

Spencer has beautiful eyes, everyone knows that, you’ve spent thousands of hours staring into those honeyed irises. However, nothing prepared you for the way his eyes seemed to glow in contrast to the darkness surrounding them. It was like staring into a pot of molten gold. 

“Ohh, pretty boy…” Your voice is a breathless whisper. 

Spencer blushes crimson, and he bashfully hides his face against your shoulder. You can feel his smile. 

“Come on, let's get going! I can’t wait to show you off. You’re so beautiful, Spencer.” 

You take his hand and lead him to the door, stopping only so he could slip on a pair of black converse he left by the entrance. The two of you giddily run out into the crisp night air. Goosebumps prickle your skin, the cold bites your cheeks, and your heart is ablaze. It isn’t long before you assume you’ve arrived at the clandestine location, pointing out a few straggling folks dressed as eccentrically as you are and you watch as they soon disappear into an alleyway behind a building. You follow behind, turning into the alley when suddenly you’re face to face with a rather large hole in the ground. Peering in, you see a flight of concrete stairs descending into darkness below. A faint rhythmic thudding can be heard, confirming that this is indeed the place. Spencer grips your hand tightly as you pull him along into the belly of the beast. The thudding grows louder, transforming into powerful kicks as the lights at the end of the tunnel get closer. Standing at the threshold between the tunnel and the large bunker, Spencer looks as if he is staring directly into the mouth of madness, transfixed. You smile triumphantly. You had finally managed to bring him into your element. 

The rest of the night happened in snippets. 

One: You see sprawling concrete walls covered in graffiti, the humidity of the room makes them almost look slick, reflecting the pulsing lights, all throbbing to a sound reminiscent of industrial machinery. There is an inherent eroticism to it all. You look on in awe as Spencer throws caution to the wind and starts dancing to the beat. You’ve never seen him so carefree. His sweat slicked skin glistens like a glass prism beneath the light, flickering through all the colors of the rainbow in the dark. 

Two: His hands are around your waist, pulling you flush against him. Drenched, Spencer’s auburn curls cling to the skin of his forehead and temples and the tops of his cheeks. The eyeliner has now spread all around his eye sockets, making him look hungry, animalistic, possessed. 

Three: You’re pressed up against a concrete slab, it feels cool against your skin. Your bodies have melted into one another in the high heat, welded together with slick until you couldn’t tell where you ended and Spencer began. The thick beats of hard techno penetrate your bodies, and the two of you thrust in tandem trying to keep up with the relentless rhythm. You cling to Spencer in desperation, as if the mounting pleasure would be enough to make you crumble into nothing but atoms. Your bones rattle as a powerful orgasm reverberates through your body. Your shrieks drown in the music, and everything fades to black.

The next morning, these scenes play out in your mind's eye as you lay awake in bed next to Spencer. You wondered how much longer this would all last. Both of you knew this lifestyle would only end with tragedy, but you didn't know how to live any other way. You're both addicted to the highs and lows of life, to the stress of the job, and to blowing off steam in the worst of ways. Sometimes you feel guilty about supplying Spencer with drugs, and you wonder if he ever feels the same way about you as you turn on the bed to face him. At least here, in this moment, you were both at peace. You always love seeing him sleep, the way all worry dissipates from his visage and all that's left is the beautiful boy you fell in love with.

ao3 || guidelines || WIPs || Ko-Fi

[schmetective]

the plant, the paper, and the powerless;

pairing: Adam du Mortain x the Detective synopsis: (After Book 2,) Adam replaces your plant. Adam-typical longing and suppression ensues.

There’s a small thump that cuts into the silence of the warehouse’s common room. 

Adam’s frown deepens, and the intention the sound is made with is reason enough to draw the vampire leader’s gaze away from the forest outside the window and to the… 

A blond eyebrow shoots up. 

“What’s that?” 

Nate challenges the skepticism with a raised eyebrow of his own. 

“A plant.” 

So it seems. Newly placed on one of the side tables in the room, the plant sits in a white ceramic pot, its large leaves a vibrant green with speckles of a slightly lighter shade of the color. A few leaves threaten to spill out of the edges of the pot, the stems connecting it soft rather than rigid. Adam eyes it as if the innocent thing has accused him of a great misdeed. 

Perhaps it has. 

“For?” 

The icy green of Adam’s eyes meet the warmth of Nate’s, hundreds of years of friendship between the gaze, yet this time there settles a lot of… Nate holds back a chuckle, recognizing the look from his friend rather quickly. Suspicion. 

Nate smothers the amusement that threatens to expose his intentions into a deadpan as if what -- or rather, who -- the plant could be for was rather obvious. The furrowing of Adam’s eyebrows as he searches Nate’s face tells the second in command that maybe the 900-year-old vampire knows exactly who the plant is for, but is hoping it’s not. 

“The Detective.” 

There’s a failed attempt to hold back laughter from Felix, who is draped across a chair a few feet away, watching the exchange with the look of one who is thoroughly entertained. He tries to pass the sound off as a cough. 

Adam stiffens, shoulders tensing as he looks away from Nate and back at the golden pothos. With the heated gaze that Adam gives the poor thing, Nate’s surprised that it doesn’t just wilt. A perseverant one, that plant. Much like someone else Nate knows. Someone who hasn’t given up on his friend just yet.

“...Why?” Adam’s tone is clipped, and Nate knows he’s stalling. Trying to appear unmoved. A tree that stands firmly rooted in the ground, refusing to bow down to the wind. Grasping at a semblance of normality; of himself before they came to Wayhaven. Before… 

Before the Detective threw him off kilter and changed everything. 

“You broke the plant in the Detective’s office, remember?” 

Felix mumbles something about a desk. 

Nate continues, “And you said that you’d --” 

“I know what I said,” Adam says in a low voice, holding back a growl because this is Nate, and Nate is just being the friend he’s always been. He doesn’t look up. 

There’s a moment of silence, and in it Nate falters a bit, wondering if this was a good idea after all. If Adam wanted to brood in silence, then maybe that was -- 

Adam’s fingers reach out around the potted plant. He gingerly picks it up, shifting his grip so that it rests in the crook of one arm. Almost cradling it. 

Nate smiles warmly at Adam, who looks as if he doesn’t quite know what he’s doing. There’s an uncertainty in those green eyes of his, one that wasn’t familiar until about four months ago. 

And then he blinks and is moving away from Nate and across the common room to the door that leads out into the hallway. 

“I’ll be back,” he says once he reaches the door. 

“Okay, we’ll be here,” Nate says with a smile and an encouraging nod. 

“Though Nate never said you had to do it right now --” 

But Adam has already closed the door before Felix can finish his teasing. 

Nate’s gaze remains on the door for a short while, deep in thought and with hope in his chest. Felix watches Nate with an unusually straight face before a glint of mischief lights his eyes. He shifts in the chair, planting both feet on the rug and resting his elbows on his knees. His fingers lace together. 

“My, my, Natey,” Felix begins. Nate turns to him. “I never thought you’d be one to scheme.”

Amusement and a hint of pride dances around the young vampire’s words as he looks at Nate with respect in his gaze. 

The tall vampire rolls his eyes. 

“I’m just helping him. Replacing the Detective’s plant after he broke the pot is the right thing to do.” A light shrug. Hands dig into pockets. “Even more so now that the Detective is part of our team.” 

“Our family,” Felix adds with a thoughtful rub of his chin, eyes searching Nate’s face. He seems to find what he was looking for, a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. “And getting our almighty leader and our wonderful Detective a moment alone had nothing to do with it?” 

Nate rolls his lips together to suppress a smirk. It’s too late, though, Felix has already seen it. Nate turns on his heels and begins to walk out of the room himself. 

“That would be a likely outcome, wouldn’t it?” Nate says, voice light as he ponders aloud, though it seems he had already considered this long before Felix suggested it.

The young vampire grins. 

.

You are bored. Bored as balls. You tap your pen against the surface of your desk repeatedly. 

Bored as… butts. 

You swivel in your chair, now tapping your pen against your knee. You eye the ceiling accusingly. Your paperwork has mostly been done, files saved and tucked into their rightful folders on your computer. And in a (normally) quiet town like Wayhaven, that left you, as the detective, with… nothing. Nada. 

Bored as books. Books can’t be bored. Bored as -- 

A knock raps against the glass partition. And then a familiar voice, one you love to hear. 

“Detective.” 

You spin around quickly, a smile on your face before you’ve even seen him. 

Adam. 

He stiffens under your gaze, shoulders rolling back and back straightening as if his posture could be any more correct. His eyes fall to the smile curling your lips, and that ice in the green… It melts. Softens. 

Your heart thumps hard against your chest. 

“Adam!” Your eyes fall from the softness in the green of his eyes to the dark green bundle held carefully in his hands. “And… plant.” 

You put down your pen and stand up from your chair, walking around your desk only to lean against it to be just that much closer to the vampire. You raise an amused eyebrow at Adam, biting a grin down. He is all too aware of the entertainment you’re finding in this, and his eyes harden, eager to find somewhere to look at that isn’t the distraction your eyes serve as. 

You want him to say it. 

But he doesn’t want to say it. 

You wait. 

He can wait too. 

You raise your eyebrows at him, chin dipping. Really?

He raises his eyebrows as well, this time challenging your gaze. 

But then your eyes are sparkling as if his sudden appearance is a gift on your birthday, just the one you’ve been excited to open; the one that’s shaped exactly like the thing you asked for. And he gives in. He loses, and he doesn’t feel terrible about it. Not one bit. 

“I told you I would replace Officer Poname’s gift to you.” 

He steps into your office, and you don’t know why your breath catches in your throat the way it does. You watch him as he moves to the file cabinet where Tina’s plant had once rested and, with a gentleness unfit of a man as strong as he, places the plant there. Almost exactly the place you remember putting the original plant. Or perhaps exactly there. 

Your stomach flips.

He turns to look at you, eyes soft and wandering slowly over your face. You hold your breath. 

Whatever state he was in, he snaps out of it and looks away. 

“That is all, Detective. I apologize once again for breaking your plant. I hope this one makes up for it.” 

You smile, and he watches from the corner of his eye. 

“More than enough, Adam. Thank you. Really.” 

His shoulders relax as if he had been afraid that you would say otherwise. He looks to you again, the intensity of his gaze startling you like always. You remind yourself of how to breathe. 

“Good.” 

He turns quickly, making to move out the door, but your mouth is quicker than that. 

“Wait!” You blurt, not really knowing what you want him to wait for. 

All you know is that you don’t want him to leave. 

He slowly turns back to you, eyes widened just a bit, enough for you to tell that maybe, hopefully, he wants to stay too. 

“Why don’t…” You fumble for a reason for him to stay. One he won’t refuse. One he’ll find tactical sense in as the leader of Unit Bravo. Think, think, think. You swallow. “Why don’t you stay until my day’s over? I could catch you up on everything that’s been going on down here. You might find something I missed.” 

Unlikely, you think, and not just because you're damn good at what you do. The action that the circus had brought along with it has finally settled, and Wayhaven has blinked and carried on as normal. But you have nothing else to go on. Damn it. This is a flimsy excuse. He’s definitely -- 

“Okay,” he nods, not even pausing a moment to consider it. “I’ll stay.” 

He’ll… stay?

He moves to the window and looks outside. 

He’ll stay.

“Okay,” you say, your voice sounding lighter than you would have liked. 

You hope he can’t hear the flutter of your heart as you move to sit back in your seat. 

.

Adam can hear your heart, its pace quicker than normal as if you had just run. He tries to ignore it, and almost successfully does, but… his own heart is harder to ignore. It pounds in his chest. 

Because he’s never been alone with you like this before. He feels restless as he stands, gazing out the window but not really looking. He needs to be doing something, but he doesn’t know what. Four months ago he would have been satisfied with staying still like this, but you’ve changed everything. 

Do you know that? 

His muscles are about to twitch in anticipation, and thoughts buzz in his mind, bouncing off its walls here and there. 

“So --” 

“Do --”

You speak at the same time that he is about to. He turns to you, hoping the surprise isn’t too evident on his face. Hoping he has caught the softness in his gaze before you can see it. But you are unlike any detective he’s ever worked with, and he knows he’s too late. You smile. 

And maybe it’s okay that he doesn't catch it in time. 

“So, I lied,” you inhale shakily, eyes darting away as if you felt guilty. He can see it on your face, lining the features he would never admit plagues his thoughts every moment he’s not with you. 

You look back at him as if seeking to gauge his reaction. He doesn’t move. 

“I’m done with today’s paperwork and… and nothing of interest or reason to be wary has occurred. I’m sorry. I…” 

It’s okay, he wants to say. I wanted so desperately to be here. More than you can know.

He bites his tongue and straightens himself. When had he leaned forward to listen to you speak? 

“It is alright.” 

You blink. 

“It-- It is?” 

He nods. 

“Oh,” you breathe, sighing in relief. “That’s good. Thanks.” 

You look away, and so does he. He is unsure of what to do now that there is technically no reason for him to be here, not as the commanding agent of Unit Bravo. That’s all he can remain to you. All he could bear to be. 

He makes to turn back to the window, but then you speak again, and he’s eager to listen. 

“Have you ever made a paper airplane?” 

“I am not Felix.” 

“So you have?” 

He can’t help the small smile that tugs at the corner of his lips. “I have. I am quite good.” 

You raise an eyebrow and lean back in your chair. “Oh? Not as good as I am, I bet.” 

“Is that a challenge?” 

“I did say I’d bet, didn’t I?” 

Oh, you are always full of surprises. 

You pull out a few sheets of paper and grin at him. 

“Are you sure this is a productive use of your time as this town’s detective?” 

You’ve already begun folding your airplane, and you don’t even look up when you reply. “You scared, old man?” 

“Never.” 

It’s far from the truth. He is terrified of the power you have over him. The power that has him sitting in the chair in front of your desk. The power that has him pulling a sheet of paper from the stack and beginning to fold it into an airplane. 

He is terrified. 

.

You are giddy. 

And prideful. 

So, so prideful. Your paper airplane sails across the precinct from your office to the other side of the large room, landing beautifully on the floor. 

Adam’s barely makes it halfway across. The nose crumples when it hits the floor.

“Again! That’s 10, me, the wonderful Detective, and 0, you. Not so good as you said you were.” 

You grin and jab him in the side with your elbow teasingly. 

He growls in frustration, jaw tensing as he looks at his crashed paper airplane as if it has betrayed him. 

You laugh softly, walking to pick up both his and your planes. You dump them in the bin under your desk. 

“Been 70 years since you flew?” 

It’s a joke, but his eyes widen for a second and it has you thinking maybe you can read minds. 

But then again, you probably can’t. Otherwise this would be so much easier. You wouldn’t second guess everything Adam does. 

“Something like that,” he says, his voice almost… fond.

Of what? You? 

You shake away the wishful thinking. 

“Thanks for staying,” you say, shrugging on your coat. 

Your workday has ended, and you are almost sad that it has. You wonder if Adam will ever be this… unguarded again. 

You thank and say goodbye to the night volunteer. 

“It is nothing,” he says as the two of you walk outside of the building. 

But it is everything. You hope he knows that. 

The two of you step outside of the precinct, and a gentle breeze greets you. “It’s not… nothing, Adam.” 

You turn to look at him, only to find he is already looking at you. He does it in a way that steals your breath from your lungs. As if you are the only thing he ever wants to look at. 

The breeze ruffles his hair that he’s let grow just a bit, and the gold of the evening that washes over the town softens the strong lines of his face. You wonder, for a moment, if there are angels, and if he has lied about being a vampire. 

But no, he is just Adam. And you are looking at him through lenses crafted by love, understanding him to be beautiful in a way that no one ever has been to you. 

And probably ever will be. 

A ghost of a smile flickers on the corner of his lips, his gaze soft as it envelops yours. 

“I will see you soon, Detective,” he says softly, the words drenched in something you don’t understand. As if he wants to say something, to reveal something, but doesn’t know how to say it. Doesn’t quite know if he wants to.

You forget how to breathe.

“Bye, Adam,” you breathe, finally remembering how and not really wanting to say goodbye. 

What is it?

He nods, looks down the street, and when seeing no one, is gone in the blink of an eye. As if he were never there. 

A warm feeling curls and uncurls in your chest. 

Hope. 

Hope to someday find out what it is.

[exileyun]

it was insane to create the character of daniel cross, with all his backstory and implications, and then make his last name be cross. Cross

it’s probably been talked about before, but i can’t help but go a little crazy thinking about it. assassin’s creed has made some insane character making choices throughout its years