#dude seriously I’m fine with being dead

[rosylix]

flower

짙은 어둠 속에 피어난, 한 송이 꽃처럼 𔓘

after practicing with felix, you try to go back to normal. unfortunately, the universe doesn't seem to want that for you.

pairing: bff!felix × gn!reader

wc: 7.3k

content: two pining idiots, inexperienced reader, fluff! (but make it awkward), slight angst, smut?ish, only one bed trope kinda lol, wet dream (like kinda somno? not really but just in case), 'dude' is used gender neutrally. umm yea! college au

a/n: so i got a bit carried away and added way more plot than necessary here. woops. also made it a college au bc why not! kinda made them nerds sorry lol (they were always nerds.)

so this is the first segment of the final part. aka part 3 but there will be a part 4 [dizzy emoji].. for now i hope you enjoy this bit! 𖹭

[also read on ao3]

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

—

A week passes, and contrary to your expectations, the two of you actually do go back to normal. At least, Felix seems to have, so even if your brain still feels a little funny around him you follow suit and pretend nothing happened.

Not that it's been easy. Especially when his neck was still covered in those stupid marks you left. Thankfully, he can cover them up pretty well (you know, considering the state you left him in) but it was still irritating as hell; seeing the shape of one just barely peeking out of his hoodie or the way you’d find your eyes instinctively drawn to his neck whenever you saw him throughout the week.

The marks have faded to the point of being barely visible, but they're permanently seared into your brain, along with the memory of him underneath you. But that’s all it is now, a memory. You make sure of it.

And it's fine. Mostly. It’s easy enough to ignore any lingering awkwardness by focusing on more important things. For instance, midterms are coming up, and Felix is losing his mind.

He’s sprawled out on the floor of his room, papers spread out around him and a pout on his lips. “Ugh, I can’t believe I’m gonna have to study all weekend,” he whines, throwing his pencil down in frustration. He’s been studying for hours and he’s already at the ‘pulling his hair out’ phase.

“Yeah…” you agree with a half sympathetic, half amused smile. He always gets like this around exam time. 

He lets his head fall onto the ground in front of him, narrowly avoiding the various papers, pencils, and textbooks littering the floor. "Why do they have to make these fucking tests so hard? It's not like the stuff we're learning is even relevant to anything. Oh my god. I'm gonna fail,” he says, voice muffled from under the carpet.

“You’re being dramatic,” you laugh as you toss the textbook you’d been reading for your own class aside.

Felix groans and (dramatically) turns over on his back. “I am not being dramatic. I’m suffering!” he exclaims, bringing his hands to cover his face. “I am dying. I’m a dead man and you don’t care. You're gonna have to plan my funeral after this.”

You roll your eyes. “Ohh nooo. You have to study over the weekend. It’s the end of the world.”

He peeks out from under his hands to glare at you. “I'm glad this is so amusing to you. You're supposed to be my best friend but you're doing nothing to help. Wow. I’ll haunt you when I'm dead after this.”

You laugh and roll your eyes again. This time, your eyes seem to catch on how his hoodie is pushed up above his waist a little from when he flopped onto the floor, showing a sliver of skin. 

...Seriously? Focus. Think about literally anything else right now.

Shaking your head, you slide off the bed and make your way to him, sitting down and crossing your legs next to his head. “Sit up and I’ll help you study,” you sigh.

"But I don't wannaaaa,” he whines, but he starts to sit up anyway. “I just wanna relax,” he pouts like a child, looking up at you with his signature puppy eyes. “Help me procrastinate instead?”

You laugh in disbelief. “You've procrastinated enough. Shouldn't you focus?”

(You haven’t been very focused either, but that's besides the point.)

He shakes his head fervently and slumps against you with a groan. “Nooo. Stop being responsible. Let's take a break.”

You huff, choosing to ignore the way your heart beats a little faster when he leans against you. “You’re so annoying,” you say, trying to sound frustrated but you can’t help if it comes out a little fondly. “Alright, fine. We have been at it for a while,” you admit.

He pulls back and grins, all too familiar with your inability to deny him when he’s being a big baby like this. It's too effective. It’s actually a little infuriating how good he is at being cute, and how effective it is on you. You cave. Every time. Though, this time he looks particularly pleased with himself.

“See? Even you couldn’t be the responsible one for that long,” he snickers. “I knew you’d give in.”

You groan and look away, as if that will somehow counteract his point. “You're a bad influence.”

He laughs again, shifting backwards before flopping back down to the floor, but this time he lays his head in your lap, smiling up at you. The close proximity has your heart fluttering in your chest and you swear you can feel yourself overheating a little. Why is he like this?

This is normal. It’s normal. Chill.

He grins up at you, oblivious to your internal crisis, and he makes himself more comfortable in your lap, shifting his body a little. "There. See? Isn't this so much better than studying?"

You swallow. The warm weight of his head in your lap, the way he peers up at you through thick lashes, hair falling around him like a halo, some of it falling into his eyes... It's— it's something.

You clear your throat, gently pushing him off, ignoring his little frown as you do so. You stand up and extend your hand down to him and sigh. “Come on. Let's go procrastinate then.”

“Ugh, why—” he starts to protest but you grab his hand and help pull him up anyway. “What are you doing? I was comfy,” he pouts.

You give him a sly look. “So, you don't wanna make cookies with me?”

You have to resist the urge to laugh at the look on his face. “Wait, really?” He perks up instantly, eyes glowing.

“Yeah, I mean, if you want,” you smile.

He bounces on his feet. “Yes! Can we make the ones with the white chocolate chips? The store finally had them when I checked last time.”

You make a face of mock disgust as he starts pulling you towards the door. “No, we are not making the ones with white chocolate chips. They're atrocious.”

“What?!” he gasps, acting scandalized. “Fuck you. They're good!”

You roll your eyes at him as he pulls you into the kitchen. He’s still holding onto your hand. It should be normal, but since when has anything felt normal these past few days?

“White chocolate chips are fine! I don’t get why you don’t like them,” he continues with a pout, finally letting go of your hand to rummage through the kitchen cabinets.

“They're not even chocolate, Felix,” you point out, watching in amusement as he struggles to reach the top shelf.

“Okay? I'm failing to see your point," he replies, making a little noise of triumph when he finally reaches whatever he’s looking for.

You just shake your head. “Yeah, whatever…” You help him set some things on the counter before sighing. “You're so lucky your dorm has a kitchen. If I had one I swear I'd be baking stuff like every single day.”

“I guess I am lucky.” He laughs, grabbing the mixing bowl from the corner cabinet and placing it on the counter. “Isn't there a shared one for your floor or something?”

“Yeah, but it's…” you shudder.

“Ah. Yeah…” He pauses, pondering something, before raising an eyebrow. “So that's why you come over so much? For the kitchen?”

“Duh.”

"I knew it… You’re only using me for free oven access?” he teases. "I’m wounded.” He drapes his hand over his forehead in a dramatic flourish and slumps against the counter.

“Yep, you caught me,” you laugh. “You and Hannie keep it somewhat clean at least.”

“My own best friend… The betrayal…” he tries to pout but ends up giggling. Then, he seems to think of something and claps his hands excitedly. “You should move in with me!”

Whoa. “W-What?”

“You know how Jisung is always over at Minho's? He's gonna officially move in next year,” Felix explains. “Like, I'm happy for them but Sung's ditching me? What happened to the bro code? But, anyway,” he laughs. “There'll be an empty bedroom. You should totally take it!”

You blink at him, brain short-circuiting for a second. "You— you’re serious?"

"Yeah," he says casually, like he didn’t just propose something so life-altering. "It’ll be like a sleepover every night!” he exclaims, grinning widely.

You can’t help the way your heart thuds a little faster in your chest, a fluttery feeling in your stomach. Living together? With Felix?

The idea is tempting. Like, incredibly so. Your own place is small, the communal kitchen area is… horrific, and your roommate tends to ignore your existence. It's a bit less than ideal.

But… you know there's a big risk of things becoming very awkward very quickly. It sounds like a dream, and at the same time, it’s a recipe for disaster. Spending that much time together could either bring you closer or push you apart. And with your recent… weirdness.. about him… you’re not sure which one is worse.

You must be silent for too long because Felix glances at you and looks a little unsure, like he suddenly regrets saying it. “I mean— you don’t have to, of course! It was just an idea. I’m sure you’re comfortable in your place and all. I didn’t mean to, like, push that on you—”

You cut him off before he can go too far. “No! No, it’s—” you shake your head, trying to choose your words carefully. “I… I'll think about it.”

He looks surprised, like he wasn't expecting that response. He lets out a breath, relief and a tentative excitement evident on his face. 

“Okay,” he says softly, the corners of his mouth twitching a bit like he’s trying to keep himself from breaking into a big smile. “Uh, yeah, of course. No pressure,” he continues. “But, y'know, I'd be way happier to have you than some random new person. You practically live here already anyway. I think it'd be fun.”

Or it could ruin everything. But when Felix smiles at you, a hopeful look in his eyes… you can't bring yourself to shut down the idea completely.

“Yeah. It might be fun,” you say, trying to keep your tone neutral.

He grins, and a wave of excitement suddenly washes back over him. "We can bake all the time, and play games, and watch movies— Oh my god, it would be so fucking awesome.”

You laugh at the sparkle in his eyes. "Yeah, okay," you tap his head with a mixing spoon. “Shut up and grab the sugar. Let's not get ahead of ourselves.”

“Yessir.”

—

You end up splitting the cookie dough and making half with normal chocolate chips and half with the ugly white sugar chips. They turned out better than they had any right to be, considering you and Felix goofed off a bit too much while making them. (Even the white chocolate ones are pretty good). The two of you munch on them as you return to studying. Felix doesn't argue, content having taken a long break and sugar in his system.

You work in comfortable silence, listening to the soft pitter patter of rain until the sun starts to set. With a yawn, you shut your laptop in front of you.

"I think I'm done for today," you say, standing up and stretching.

Felix glances up from his spot on the floor, chin in his hand, surrounded by a mess of books and papers. "Really?"

"Yeah. How about you?"

He sighs, leaning back and stretching. "I still have so much left to go through," he complains, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"That's your own fault for playing games all week instead of studying," you laugh softly.

He pouts at you. "I know, I know." Then he groans and falls backwards on the floor, throwing his arms over his face. "Man, I'm tired. I'm done too."

You giggle at the sight of him splayed out on the floor. “Alright, cool. I should be heading out anyway,” you say, starting to gather your things. Then, as if on cue, a loud rumble of thunder echoes outside.

Oh shit. You both glance at each other, then towards the window, where the rain you thought would have passed by now is quickly developing into a full-on storm. Great. The universe must be out to get you.

Felix gets up from the floor and walks to the window. "Damn, can you even go home in this? It looks pretty bad out there.”

You join him at the window and peer outside. The rain is coming down harder, droplets hitting against the windowpane incessantly. You grimace. Well, it's not that bad, but it still isn't something you'd like to walk through.

Oh well. You sigh. “It's.. it's alright. Could I borrow an umbrella?”

He doesn’t answer right away, continuing to peer out the window. A frown spreads across his face before he speaks. “Of course, but… are you sure? You can stay the night if you want.”

“Uh—”

Well… normally, you wouldn't mind. You've slept over tons of times before. But this time feels different, and suddenly the thought of staying is a bit nerve-wracking. 

"A little rain won't kill me,” you settle on saying. 

Felix glances back at you, eyebrows furrowing in concern. He looks like he's about to say something, but another crash of thunder interrupts him.

He frowns and crosses his arms, leaning against the frame of the window. It's undeniably attractive. “A little rain? I can't let you walk home in this, are you crazy? It's dangerous.”

“But—” you start to protest.

"Nope,” he cuts in. “You’re not risking it. It's getting dark too,” he points out. He looks outside, then back at your face, sighing. His face softens. “...Okay. If you really want to go, at least let me walk you.”

“You don't have to walk me, Felix.”

“Yeah, I kinda do. Who knows what could happen to you? You could get struck by lightning! Or…” He gives you a once over. “You could, like, slip and bleed out in a puddle or something. Or die of hypothermia or some fucking thing. I don't know!” He throws his hands up.

You let out a breathless laugh. You don’t want to argue with him, but staying the night is definitely making you anxious to think about. You don't want to trouble him with walking back and forth in that weather either, but Felix seems stubborn on the matter. What's worse, the look on his face has you worrying he might think you're trying to get away from him or something.

(Which isn't… wrong. But Felix would misunderstand. It's not because you don't like him. It's…)

You exhale, looking outside one more time. With the rain getting worse by the minute, staying the night seems like the only reasonable choice. 

Felix taps his foot impatiently, observing the growing storm. “So?”

“Okay, fine. I'll stay… You're right, it's getting pretty bad out there," you concede.

He opens his mouth but then quickly shuts it again, suddenly looking a bit unsure. He studies your face and you almost want to hide at how intently he's staring. Why, why is he staring like that? Like he can see right through you. Didn't you just say what he wanted? Did he change his mind about letting you stay?

But, the moment passes before you can do anything and he looks away. "Thank god,” he huffs. “I was really fighting off the mental images of your dead body in a ditch.”

You scoff. “I'm not that weak.”

“I know,” he says with a soft smile. Then he smirks, glancing back at you. "You're not weak. Just clumsy.” 

You shove him in response and he laughs, the smirk on his face turning into a grin. The tension from earlier dissolves a bit and you can finally breathe again; the air starts to feel less awkward, comfortable.

“So,” he says, standing up straight. "Since you're staying, want some clothes to change into? I don’t think you wanna sleep in jeans.”

He doesn't wait for an answer, already shuffling through his drawer and handing a plain black t-shirt and sweatpants over to you.

You take them gingerly, trying to ignore how your nerves suddenly spike again. "Thanks," you murmur, clutching the soft fabric in your hands.

Maybe he senses something because he keeps his distance, eyes roaming over your face once more, curiosity and something else in his gaze. 

Then, he clears his throat. “You know the bathroom is all yours if you need,” he says, turning back to his mess of papers on the floor. “I'm gonna try to get a little more studying done. Maybe. I'm really fighting the urge to open League right now.” 

"Felix," you raise your eyebrows at him with a laugh, "If I find you mid ranked match in twenty minutes, I'm pouring water on your computer."

He purses his lips. “You wouldn't.”

“Try me,” you taunt and make your way to the bathroom. You close the door behind you and let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

That was good. See? You can banter with him and everything like normal. There's nothing to be weird about. You can be normal about this.

You sigh. Yeah, right. This is so dumb. You’ve stayed over countless times before. You’ve worn his clothes before, shared a bed with him before. It's just Felix.

So why… Why is it so hard to be normal right now?

(You're not so stupid you don't know the answer to that. You're definitely in denial about… something, and you'll gladly stay that way for as long as you can help it. It's easier to not think about it.)

Your head hurts. God. Maybe a shower will clear your mind.

It does. You feel lighter and refreshed when you step out and you quickly change into the clothes Felix gave you; his scent envelopes you as you slip on the shirt and you instantly feel more at ease, comforted. You're good. Everything's cool.

When you step into Felix's bedroom, you find him exactly where you left him, leaning on a pile of pillows on the floor, hunched over a textbook. True to his word, he's trying to study again but he looks like he's seconds away from giving up.

"Hey,” you announce your entrance. “Successfully resisting the clutches of League?” you ask, giggling at the sight of him sprawled on the floor.

“Heyyy,” he drawls, not looking up from his book. “Proud of me? I'm actually studying. Not like I'll ever reach silver no matter how much I fucking—”

His words seem to die in his throat as he finally glances up and sees you standing in the doorway. His eyes widen instantly, scanning up and down your body, lips parted in shock.

"That's, um, um. That's—” he stutters, tongue tied all of a sudden. 

You frown a bit at his reaction, feeling self-conscious. Is your hair too flat? Are the clothes not right? You adjust the falling neckline of the shirt before taking a seat on the floor, trying to ignore the way he's still staring.

You swear you see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows and he quickly looks away as you sit next to him.

“...What?” you ask, trying not to assume the worst.

“You— uh, the,” he gestures to your outfit vaguely. “It fits, uh— better? Than it used to? Yeah. Looks nice.”

He sounds a bit strangled and now you're definitely convinced you look strange.

“Um, thanks…" you mutter, trying not to show how thrown off his reaction has you feeling. You toy with the hem of the soft material self-consciously. Obviously they don't fit properly, they’re Felix’s clothes after all. You’ve borrowed them before, why is he suddenly being so weird?

Felix fidgets with the corner of his textbook, avoiding eye contact as if the words on the pages are suddenly the most interesting thing he’s ever read.

He clears his throat. “Uh, yeah, anyway. I'm pretty much done. Was just waiting for you.” He closes the book and finally lifts his eyes to meet your gaze and he has a strange, shy smile plastered on his face. You open your mouth to ask if he’s alright, but he starts speaking again, barely giving you a moment to get a word in.

“I— Dude, I'm like— I'm honestly gonna fail this class,” he groans, burying his face in his hands. “Like, I'm actually just not built for academia. I’m gonna drop out and then start working at the… fucking convenience store or something.” He lets out a long sigh. “Or, y'know, I'll start streaming. That seems pretty nice. I could be, like, a huge streamer guy. Tons of people will watch. I'll be famous. You could be my manager.”

You blink, trying to make sense of the sudden topic change. 

“Uh, First of all,” you say, gently knocking his knee with your own, “You're smart as hell. You'll graduate just fine. Second, I highly doubt many people would suddenly start watching some nerd’s League streams.”

He whines and gives you a pouty look. “Why not?? I’m funny, I’d be great,” he protests, sitting up with a huff.

“Yeah, right. I’d be managing a streamer who can’t even get to gold rank. Embarrassing.”

He scoffs, acting offended. “Hey! I didn’t say I'd make League streams. I could be a variety streamer, y’know.”

“Oh yeah? So you can stream how fast you lose at every game?” you say, grinning at his sulky expression. You understand him, the way he teases you all the time. It's fun when you're not on the receiving end. 

He places a hand over his chest, feigning offense. “Wow,” he deadpans. “Can’t believe you're attacking me like this in my time of despair.”

You grin a bit and roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Stop being dramatic, you know I’m right. You need to get better if you want to start your streaming career.”

“Dude. I could get to gold if I wanted to. I just... choose not to. Bronze is a good rank, y’know. It’s like, the vibe.” The pout returns on his face. “Plus, my viewers wouldn’t care about that. They’ll be there for my personality.”

You arch a brow. “Your personality.”

“Yeah, my personality! Shut up. If League doesn't work, I could play like, Call of Duty, or… or like, Animal Crossing! Hey, I can't lose at Animal Crossing now, can I?”

“You might be onto something,” you muse.

“No…” he groans. “It’s never gonna happen. My dreams of becoming a famous streamer have to die because of… stupid calculus and… all these boring things.”

He drops his head on your shoulder, pouting at the thought of having to spend more time studying. You laugh and reach a hand up to pat his head, playing with his hair absentmindedly. 

"It's not that bad. You'll get through this," you say, trying to console him. "But seriously,” you continue, “I can’t believe you play so much League but never got past bronze. What are you even doing?”

He whines and buries his face in the crook of your neck, mumbling something about “bad teammates”.

The contact is familiar and comforting. He gets clingy like this often, especially when he's tired. You can feel his warm breath against your skin, its steady rhythm sending tingles down your spine. His hair is soft under your fingertips. And you are so, so normal. 

“Have you ever considered… that maybe you… are the bad teammate?” you can't help but tease.

“Heyyy,” he whines again, lifting his head to look at you with an offended expression.

You giggle at the sight of his disgruntled face and it seems to only make him sulk more, the pout on his face growing deeper. Cute.

“After all we've been through…” he breathes out. “After I’ve trusted you with my life. I can’t believe I’m hearing this from my own best friend… the absolute backstabbing…”

He's ridiculous. "You might wanna think of some new material, Mr. Variety Streamer,” you laugh. “The theatrics are getting a little old.”

He continues to pout, his gaze fixed on you. He’s so close, face just a few inches away from yours, and your heart jumps at the realization. Or maybe it jumps because of the way he’s looking at you; scrutinizing your face intently, his eyes flitting across your features like he’s trying to commit them to memory. You shift around nervously. Something's off about how he's looking at you. You thought you’d seen a flash of… well, you don’t know what it was. But it makes you feel…

Warm and fluttering in your stomach, but in the worst, most uncomfortable way. You hate the way your body reacts so vividly to literally nothing. You really, really hate it.

Luckily (or unfortunately?), a particularly loud rumble of thunder echoes outside and he jumps.

He instantly leans away, as if he just realized himself how close you were. “Sorry, I— Geez, this weather sucks,” he complains, glancing toward the window. The storm outside is still raging, rain pelting against the window mercilessly.

“Yeah,” you say dumbly, feeling cold now that Felix has pulled away.

You push down the thoughts of how badly you want him to lean on you again, or how you wish he could hold you like he usually does. It’s easier to ignore whatever you’re feeling while he’s busy being all silly and clingy.

This is stupid. It's just so… frustrating, and you have no idea what to make of any of the thoughts that are running through your mind.

There’s a pause as he continues watching the rain outside, eyes following the raindrops dancing down the window panes. You try to study his expression; it’s pensive, almost contemplative, much like the look in his eyes earlier. 

“Are you tired?” he finally asks.

You blink. “Uh.” You realize that you are actually pretty tired. “Yeah, a little.”

The admission makes you yawn and Felix smiles in return, his expression softening. 

He pushes himself off the floor and looks at you for a moment, like he's about to say something — and then he doesn’t. Instead, he offers a hand to help you off the ground.

“Come on,” he says, hand extended. “We should get to sleep before the electricity inevitably goes out.”

You let him pull you up and he lets go of your hand quickly as he motions for you to get on the bed.

“I’ll go and— um,” he stumbles over his words, taking a few steps back. “I'll go shower real quick and then we can, uh… sleep.” 

He disappears before you can say anything and leaves you sitting on the edge of the bed, suddenly feeling more tense and awkward than earlier.

You release a long breath. Okay. Okay, everything's fine. Just the two of you, sleeping in the same bed. No big deal. That’s happened plenty of times before. You try to steady your breathing as you sit there on his bed, surrounded by his pillows, his blankets, his scent.

You run a hand through your hair and scroll through your phone, trying to distract yourself. It’s going to be a long night.

When the door opens ten minutes later, you look up. Felix's hair is damp and he's wearing a loose white t-shirt with sweatpants, the material hanging low on his hips. His skin is a little flushed from the shower. He looks so soft and effortlessly pretty, you kind of want to scream.

“Hey,” he whispers as he shuts the bedroom door behind him, “You good?”

You nod, throat suddenly dry.

He clears his throat and walks towards the bed, standing there quietly. He doesn’t look at you for a long minute and you start to wonder if he’s thinking the same things you are, or if you’re overthinking everything and he’s fine.

“Well, let’s head to sleep then.” He breaks his gaze from the floor and turns to look at you again, a hint of worry on his face. “Uh, you can take the bed tonight, alright? I’ll just sleep on the floor or something.”

“What— Why?” you exclaim.

“I—” he blinks, taken aback, as if he didn't expect you to ask that. “I don't know? If, I mean, if you... like…” he trails off, looking away again. “The floor doesn't look that bad.”

It does. The cold, worn floor does look that bad. You must look worse. You're not an idiot, you can read in between the lines. He's uncomfortable sleeping next to you.

There’s no other reason for him to not want to sleep in the same bed as you. You've shared this bed with him countless times before. If he's not comfortable with you now…

Your mind is racing. Even if your awkwardness is because of your unbidden… lunacy towards him… he explicitly told you he doesn't see you like that. As much as you've been trying to repress everything and act normal like he's been… it hasn't worked. This is decidedly not normal.

There's a tense silence as you try to figure out what to say. The knot in your stomach tightens with every passing second and you try to push down the hurt that’s threatening to surface. You're making him uncomfortable. If you could just be normal about all this— Fuck. It's all your fault. 

"Shut up," you finally manage to mutter, starting to shuffle off the bed. “It's your bed. I'll take the floor."

“What— No, hey, stop—” he protests quickly, stepping forward to grab your arm. “Don’t— I couldn't let you do that. It's not— no.” he sputters.

You meet his eyes in confusion. He still has a grip on you, fingers warm and soft against your skin.

“You’re not sleeping on the floor,” he says firmly, voice a bit lower than usual. “That's stupid. I just thought, maybe…” his grip on your arm tightens the tiniest bit.

“...What?” you ask quietly. 

He shakes his head, releasing your arm with a sigh.

You look at him, really look at him, the way his eyes won't meet yours, shoulders slumped, fingers tapping his thigh nervously. “Just,” you sigh. “You said it's stupid if I sleep there. Same for you. Just come here.”

He looks at you once more, searching your face. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you nod, hopefully sounding more confident than you feel.

Your heart is pounding. You’re trying your best to ignore the tension in the room and act like everything’s fine. Like spending the night sleeping with your best friend when he clearly doesn’t want you to be close to him anymore isn’t breaking your heart. 

You give him a tight-lipped smile as you finally get under the blankets and lay on your side with your back towards him. 

Felix hesitantly climbs into bed next to you, keeping a fair distance. He doesn’t say anything at first. You think he’s just going to sleep and you’re both going to ignore whatever that was about. Cool, you can do that. You're great at doing that. Then, he huffs. 

"I’m so fucking tired," he mumbles as he shifts beside you and you hum in agreement.

“Yeah, now imagine sleeping on the floor.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “Thank you. Um… sorry for being weird.”

You don't know what to say to that. “...You’re always weird,” you manage quietly.

He lets out a low chuckle and you feel some of the tension leave your body. It’s a familiar banter, one you’ve done with him for ages, so you grasp onto it, desperate for any semblance of normalcy.

“I’m sorry, though,” he says seriously. “I’m kind of an idiot, you know.” 

“...Yeah, I know.”

“I— wow,” he laughs softly. “Chat, what did I do to deserve this?”

You mirror his laugh and turn on your back to face him. 

His hair has gotten longer. The messy locks are fanned around his head on the pillow. His eyes are wide underneath his bangs, studying your face with an expression you can’t quite pin down. 

He’s so pretty. You wonder how you ever thought you could act normal after everything that's happened.

“Is the chat in the room with us?” you ask around a smirk, and pray your voice doesn't sound too breathless.

He snorts and you swear you can almost see the pout on his face. Yeah, he’s fine. He’s back to his regular self. You should be, too. 

“Shut up,” he pokes your shoulder weakly. 

Your heart does something stupid in your chest at the contact and you press your face further into the pillow to hide the flush that’s undoubtedly on your face right now. 

A few moments pass in silence and you close your eyes, hoping sleep will come soon and end this mess of a night. You don’t know how much time passes. Felix is silent and you feel yourself drifting off, sleep tugging at your consciousness, when you hear him whispering in the dark.

“Hey,” he says your name quietly. “You awake?”

You hum in response and reluctantly blink your eyes open. His face swims into view and you realize he's closer than before. Now only a few inches separate you from him.

“Sorry… um, I'm cold. Can… can I...?” He hesitates, leaving the question unfinished as his eyes search your face.

His breath ghosts your cheek and you freeze, trying to keep your breathing even as your body stiffens.

“Yeah,” you murmur, trying to sound nonchalant. “Yeah, of course.”

A flash of relief fills his face before he moves even closer to you. He lays next to you, resting his head on your collarbone and draping one arm over your waist carefully. You hold your breath.

“Is this alright?” he mumbles.

You’re not sure if you can speak without sounding like a goddamn idiot, so you just nod in reply.

He buries his head in the crook of your neck and you have to remind yourself that it doesn’t mean anything. It’s just Felix being Felix: the most physically clingy person on Earth. Also your best friend who you definitely do not have untoward feelings for.

That would be really, really bad.

Especially in a situation like this, where Felix’s nose is pressed in your neck, and his arm is around your waist, his leg tangled with yours at some point and his hair is tickling your chin. He’s everywhere. It's entirely overwhelming.

And he's so warm. You didn't even realize you were cold until he pressed against you. Warmth seeps deep into your bones as he sighs and pulls your body further against his. It's cozy and familiar and you try to focus on the comfort of the action instead of the way your heart is hammering in your chest.

It’s quiet for a few moments as he settles against you and you try to relax, waiting for the rise and fall of his chest to even out beside you, signaling he’s fallen asleep.

Instead, he shifts and you feel his lips brush against your neck, his breath fanning over your skin. Oh.

“Hey,” he murmurs in that low, low voice of his that only really comes out when he's sleepy. “Hey, I… um.” 

You can feel the vibrations from his voice against your neck as he speaks. Oh. You’ve definitely thought about this in a much different context before.

He’s silent for a moment as if collecting his thoughts. But he just sighs, pulling his head away slightly. “Nevermind… Um, good night.”

“Night,” you manage weakly.

It’s silent again. The only sounds that fill the room are the incessant beating of raindrops against the windows and Felix's soft breathing by your ear, drowning out the occasional faint rumble of thunder.

—

You wake to the sound of groaning.

Unsticking your eyelids, you attempt to get a look at your surroundings. It’s still dark, but the room slowly comes into focus as you blink slowly, trying to discern what woke you up. 

The first thing you notice is that it's warm. Hot, even. The air is thick and heavy in your lungs and there's a warm weight pressed against you.

It takes a few moments before you become aware of your current predicament — Right, you're at Felix's place, sleeping in his bed. His body is completely pressed against yours, his chest to your back, his head nuzzled in the nook of your neck. You’re practically spooning. There’s a leg thrown over yours and an arm wrapped snugly around your middle, making it virtually impossible to move.

And — it's not that unusual. It's not far off from the position you fell asleep in and Felix's clinginess is really quite endearing, even if your fragile heart can't handle it anymore. No, what's unusual are the sounds coming from him.

He’s making small noises as he fidgets against you, like he's in pain. He's probably having a bad dream. You start to turn over in order to wake him up, but his grip on you tightens and his breath hitches and—

You freeze.

That was definitely not the sound of someone having a nightmare. 

It was more like… like… Quiet, soft, and breathless; little sounds caught in his throat that spill into your ear.

And if that wasn’t bad enough, his body is moving — restless, shifting against you. His hips moving minutely. It takes your sleepy mind a second to put it all together.

Holy… Holy shit. Is he…?

You're suddenly very awake, fogginess replaced by a white hot rush of panic and disbelief.

He’s— Oh no.

Felix is asleep. He's definitely sleeping but— He must be… having some sort of… dream and… What the fuck are you supposed to do? Wake him up? Absolutely not. You literally— You'd rather die than face him like this. Not to mention how mortifying it would be for both of you. You would actually rather choose death.

He twitches slightly, his hips pushing up against your body. A low groan leaves him as he pulls you closer, completely against his body now, the thin material of his clothes doing nothing to hide his—

You squeeze your eyes shut. Oh my god you are going to die right now. You're seriously going to pass away for real this time. This— this is—

“Mmmn…” he moans, low and needy and right by your ear and wow, that’s… wow.

You have to be dreaming… this is just some very fucked up dream, the sane part of you implores. The rest of you is ignited in flames. 

It's not a dream.

Another little sound slips out and he presses even closer to you, his body flush against yours, like he’s trying to get as much contact as possible. His hips move against yours with a subtle roll and you feel shameful sparks of heat pooling in your gut.

This is so bad. This is so, so bad, fuck. Fuck.

He’s grinding against you in tiny movements, little gasps and moans escaping out of his mouth every few seconds and your entire body is burning. His arm is tight around your waist, his whole body pressed flush against your back. You don’t even dare to breathe as he rocks his hips forward ever so slightly, his nose nuzzling your neck as he lets out a soft whine. It takes everything you have to keep your own whimper at bay, suddenly desperate to grind back against him but— Christ. Are you insane?

You’re frozen. You’re not supposed to be here, you’re not supposed to be feeling this, you really should wake him up, this is so wrong, yet you’re still frozen like an idiot. You can't think. Your brain is made of cherry slushy. The heat death of the universe is imminent. 

Your mind is completely blank but your body is overstimulated and you’re just trying your best to figure out how not to die in this situation. Not easy when Felix is moaning into your neck and it sounds so good and he’s shifting and his body is impossibly warm and he’s—

His breath stutters abruptly in the midst of a long moan and he goes completely still around you. All you hear is heavy breathing for a few moments.

Shit, shit, shit. Is he awake? You're caught between relief and something like disappointment but aren't left enough time to dwell on that thought before you hear a shaky whispered, “F-Fuck.”

You hold your breath. 

Your heartbeat is ringing in your ears, body buzzing with tension, but you do your best to stay completely still. The air is so thick. You almost can’t believe what just happened, but the evidence is pressing into your back as Felix lets out another quiet swear.

His grip on you tenses for a moment before releasing you entirely. He untangles himself from you and pulls his body away from yours so suddenly that you nearly think you hallucinated the whole thing. 

His breathing is ragged and you don’t dare move a muscle. You keep your back resolutely facing him, try to relax, and you are asleep. You are asleep. You are asleep. You repeat it like a mantra. 

You don’t know if he believes your act, your eyes pressed shut, as you try to keep your breaths even and slow.

The sheets rustle a bit. You stay motionless, heart pounding in your ears. He’s sitting up now, you can feel the weight shifting beside you. It’s completely silent for a few seconds before he whispers your name in question.

You are asleep. You are asleep. You are asleep. You pray he believes it.

“...Thank god,” he breathes. You hear more rustling, sheets moving, and he's getting up.

Only when you hear the door shut do you allow yourself to breathe, wondering how the hell you made it out of that situation alive. What the fuck. 

Like, what the fuck.

You stare at the wall in shock, eyes wide and heart hammering hard in your chest.

He doesn’t know you were awake. You’re alive. You survived.

You bury your face in the pillow and try to collect yourself, shaking slightly in the aftermath of whatever the hell just happened. The heat of his body is still surrounding you, his presence lingering on your skin and you can’t help the traitorous part of your brain that wishes for him to crawl back into the bed and hold you again. That wishes you were brave enough to do something other than lie there.

You push the thought away with a quiet groan. You can’t think about that. You can’t. You're barely holding onto the last threads of your sanity as it is. 

But you can’t fall back asleep.

Of course you can’t. After what just happened, your brain will probably never be fully operational again. You press your hands to your face and let out a pathetic whine, wondering if it's possible to die of embarrassment. You're sure this is what a heart attack feels like. It's a wonder you're still breathing. 

This is so much worse than last time, when you got too into practicing. At least that was mutually agreed on and Felix made light of it pretty easily. But this? How are you supposed to act normal after this? That wasn't supposed to happen. You weren't supposed to know what it feels like to have his body up against yours, to hear him moaning in your ear. And you pretended to be asleep instead of stopping him. So he doesn't even know… It's so wrong on so many levels.

You sigh. Felix doesn't know you were awake, so he doesn't know you know and maybe, maybe you can get away with pretending it didn't happen. You'll have to play it cool, of course. Or even better, you can forget about this entirely, convince yourself it was all a fever dream.

Maybe.

—

a/n: AHHH. so it really wasnt meant to be a cliffhanger here lol but then i ended up splitting it so... sorry. the next (and final for REALL THIS TIME) part will be out very soon! nothing like the 3 month long wait for this (ty SO MUCH for ur patience) andd yeah! i hope this is at least somewhat living up to expectations so far, tysm for reading!!

[munson-blurbs]

Eddie Munson x Shy!Reader

Summary: Max and Lucas are tired of their friends silently pining over each other but never making a move, so when the Winter Formal rolls around, they take matters into their own hands.

Warnings: mutual pining, idiots in love, fluffy fluff

WC: 1.8k

A/N: Happy anniversary to the love of my life, @corroded-hellfire 💚 one year ago today, we met in person for the first time, and my life has been infinitely better ever since. Thank you for being my best friend. I love you more than Dustin loves his Weird Al shirt. Red, this fic is for you.

Divider credit to @saradika

“Kill me now.”

Three words uttered by none other than Max Mayfield, sliding her lunch tray onto the table and sitting down with an irritated sigh. 

You look at her with an amused grin. “What is it this time? Bombed a pop quiz? Got detention for flipping off a teacher—again?” Her brazen, flippant attitude provided many entertaining moments, so long as you weren’t on the receiving end of it. 

Max shakes her head, spearing a limp macaroni noodle with her plastic fork. “I wish.” She holds up two tickets to the Winter Formal. “Lucas is dragging me to this bullshit. ‘All the other basketball guys’ girlfriends are going,’” she mocks him in an octave much lower than his actual voice, “so I guess that means I have to follow suit.”

Bringing a hand to your heart, you jut out your lower lip in mock-pity. “Oh, no; your boyfriend wants to show you off at a school dance! How will you ever survive?” 

Max doesn’t miss a beat. “You could go, too,” she says, blue eyes pleading. “Keep me company when the guys inevitably bail to get wasted in the woods.”

“I don’t—”

“You don’t need a date,” she insists, reading your mind before the words can leave your mouth. “I’m telling you, Lucas is gonna ditch me as soon as Jason and Patrick show up.” She takes your hand between both of hers. “Please? I’ll even tell Ms. Kelly the lengths you went to for your poor, troubled freshie.”

You exhale, knowing that she doesn’t need to go to all of that trouble. You’d started off the school year as her peer mentor, but just a few months later, you two have become close friends. “Fine, I’ll go,” you acquiesce, laughing when she pumps her fists victoriously. “But I’m not gonna be happy about it.”

You return to your own lunch, completely missing the mischievous look that graces her freckled face. 

Unbeknownst to you, a similar discussion is had at Hellfire Club later that same afternoon. 

“Absolutely not,” Eddie scoffs, folding his arms across his chest. “Nice try, Sinclair, but I wouldn’t be caught dead at some lame dance.”

“Seriously,” Jeff smirks from his position across the table. “He’s never been to a single one in his ten years of high school.”

Eddie flips him off casually. “It’s only six, asshole. But that doesn’t matter, because I’m not dressing up in some penguin suit to drink unspiked punch with a bunch of shitty people.”

“C’mon, dude,” Lucas says, his tone bordering on a whine. “If you don’t go, I’m gonna be stuck with the jocks all night, and they just wanna suck face with their girlfriends.”

“And you don’t?” Gareth quips. 

Lucas rolls his eyes. “Not in front of everyone. And I don’t need a front-row seat to their performances, either.” He turns his attention back to the Dungeon Master. “Look, I’m desperate. Mike’ll be visiting his grandma and Dustin’s grounded because of his D-plus in Spanish.”

Eddie narrows his eyes. “What about Huey, Dewey, and Louie over here?” he asks, gesturing to the three remaining club members. 

Their collective responses are jumbled excuses; Eddie swears one of them says he’s going kayaking—in mid-December in Indiana—but he doesn’t bother to sift through their lies. “You owe me, Sinclair,” he declares, pointing his forefinger at the underclassman. “Big time.”

The next few weeks leading up to the Winter Formal are spent meticulously making plans. For someone who seemed so disinterested in this dance, Max is paying careful attention to each detail. 

You walk out of the dressing room in a velvet emerald green dress that hits just above the knee. Max is beaming as she adjusts the off-the-shoulder sleeves and smooths down any creases. 

“You look really nice,” she says, nodding her head. She’s trying to temper her enthusiasm, but you can sense her excitement. “I can’t wait to tell Lucas.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Lucas? Why would he care?” He’s a nice kid—more in tune with emotions than the average fourteen-year-old boy—but that doesn’t constitute an interest in your fashion choices. 

Max’s cheeks burn as red as her hair. “Uh, well, seeing you happy makes me happy, and seeing me happy makes him happy, so…everyone’s happy?” she finishes lamely. She clears her throat as if expelling the awkwardness from the conversation. “Anyway, let’s buy this dress so we can look for shoes.”

“Yeah, okay.” You’re not fully convinced, but you brush it off and steel your nerves to ask a question. “Is anyone else gonna be there that we know?” You really want to know whether Eddie Munson is going to be there, but you can’t say the quiet part aloud. 

“Probably,” she shrugs, a bit too quickly, but she’s pushing you back behind the curtain to change before you can inquire more. 

“Why does this stupid tie need to be green?” Eddie asks, sifting through the store’s selection with Lucas by his side. 

“Uh, Christmas colors,” Lucas stammers, fumbling for a decent explanation other than the contents of his secret phone call with Max earlier today. “And, y’know, red is way overdone, so…” he trails off lamely, going back to the display table and hoping Eddie drops the matter. 

They find exactly what they’re looking for—not without Eddie complaining about putting in too much effort just to be a third wheel—and make their way over to the food court. Eddie makes a beeline for the Pizza Hut when he stops dead in his tracks. “Shit, Sinclair; we gotta go,” he says urgently, clapping a hand on the younger boy’s shoulder and steering him away from the fast food. 

“What the hell? I’m hungry!”

Eddie shakes his head, curls brushing against his shoulders. “Look, man.” He discreetly points to his left, where you and Max are giggling at the Orange Julius. “We can’t let them see us.”

“Dude, she’s like the nicest person ever,” Lucas rebuts. “Even Max likes her, and Max pretty much hates everyone.”

“That’s not the problem.” Eddie rakes his ringed fingers through his hair, wincing when he snags one on a knot. “The problem is that she’s gonna be all, ‘hi, Eddie; what’re you doing at the mall?’ And I’m gonna be all, ‘just picking out a tie for the Winter Formal.” And then she’ll go, ‘oh, who’s your date?” And then I’ll have to say, ‘I don’t have one; I’m just playing babysitter to some freshmen like a goddamn loser!” He hops back and forth to indicate each character change.

“First of all, ouch,” Lucas quips, “second, go hide in the bathroom if you want, but I’m getting something to eat.”

Eddie exhales an exasperated sigh, giving in and schlepping over to Pizza Hut, one of the few times in his life that he’s trying to be inconspicuous. 

You pull into the school parking lot on the night of the Winter Formal and shift into park before killing the engine. Max is bouncing her leg up and down in the passenger seat, lower lip tucked between her teeth.

“What’s on your mind?” you ask, mistaking her excitement for anxiety. “You know that Lucas would think you look beautiful even if you showed up in a potato sack.” You furrow your brow. “Where is he, anyway? Why didn’t he come with us?”

She mumbles something about not wanting her mom to ask any questions about the relationship, and you take them at face value. Her eyes light up when she spots her boyfriend walking into the school alongside…Eddie Munson?

“Eddie’s here?” you ask in a hushed whisper, feeling sweat prickling under your arms. You’ve been nursing a massive crush on him for ages–one that Max is very much aware of. And now he’s here, dressed in a black suit with his hair pulled back into a low bun at the nape of his neck. “Max, why didn’t you tell me? Who’s he going with?” The idea of him slow dancing with someone else has your stomach turning.

Max just shrugs. “I don’t think he had a date.” Too casual, too blasé–she knows something. “C’mon, let’s go in.” She swings the car door open enthusiastically, leaving you shell-shocked in your seat.

“Maxine Mayfield!” you hiss, using her full government name to drive home your bewilderment, but she just skips ahead. Damn your heeled shoes, slowing you down before you can catch up to her. When you finally do, she just grabs your hand and tugs you towards the guys.

She poorly feigns surprise, jaw dropping as she exclaims, “Eddie? What are you doing here? Oh, my gosh, this is such a coincidence!” She pulls you closer, smiling far too wide. “Lucas and I both brought our upperclassmen friends! What are the odds?”

“Yeah, so weird,” Lucas says, not as loud as Max but just as transparent. He looks at Max before regarding you and Eddie. “Okay, well, we’re gonna go dance–bye!” The two of them scamper off, leaving you alone with Eddie. If their stilted dialogue wasn’t evidence enough, the way Eddie’s tie perfectly matches your dress certainly clears up their intentions.

Eddie speaks first, shoving his hands in his pants pockets and nervously swiveling his body. “I, uh, think we’ve been set up,” he says with a small, awkward chuckle. “I swear, it wasn’t my idea. Not–not that it’s a bad thing, I just meant, like, if you’re uncomfortable with this, I don’t wanna be held responsible.” His cheeks burn red. “Shit, I need to stop talking.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him with your own kind laugh, “we might as well make the most of it. Get some punch and make fools of ourselves out there?” You gesture towards the gym’s makeshift dance floor; the band has just started playing Journey’s “Faithfully.” Eddie’s nods, following you to an empty space, and you timidly drape your arms over his shoulders. Taking care to avoid an inappropriate touch, he rests his palms on the small of your back. 

His voice is low when he murmurs in your ear, “you look really beautiful tonight.” He clears his throat and speaks again. “You always look really beautiful, though.”

The two of you sway to the music, swapping shy smiles and fleeting but longing glances. As the song ends, you look over your shoulder. “We’re being spied on,” you report, noting the way the two younger kids are watching you from across the room. You consider your next words before eventually deciding to go for it: “Did you talk to Lucas about me as much as I talked to Max about you?”

“Probably more,” Eddie laughs, bringing you a bit closer. “But I’m interested in comparing notes.”

You nod, staving off any lingering nerves. “Maybe after the dance, we can split a burger from Benny’s and discuss?”

Eddie presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “Yeah,” he says; you can feel his lips move against your skin, “I’d like that.”

--

[tryingtofindava]

eyeless jack dating headcanons pls :)

𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬*ೃ༄

: ̗̀➛Back to source

He broke into your apartment with the intentions of harvesting your organs.

When he held the scalpel to your hip, and you began to stir awake. Mf froze.

Oh shit.

“What the fuck?”

Now bro only kills to eat, and when he does, he make sure it’s as painless for the victim as possible (unless he’s in a frenzy).

And That so called victim being awake? That just makes it 100x harder to get the task done.

And when you wake up to see a 6’6 man with an oddly terrifying blue mask holding a scalpel to your hip?

You (rightfully) freak tf out.

He’s not a sadist like some ppl… (cough Jeff Cough) So he probably awkwardly retreated back out to your window.

Anywayssss.

To the actual dating headcanons now.

You guys probably had a longgggggg ass slow burn. (not the only thing that’s long…)

The two of you definitely acted like a couple, before you were ACTUALLY a couple iykwim.

You find it so cool that your bfs a demon. He doesn’t really understand your excitement about it, since it’s literally a curse for him.

This boy is a walking furnace, he’s so cozy. So lots of winter cuddle sessions. Also perfect for when you on your period.

He purrs in his sleep. You can’t change my mind. You guys be cuddling on the couch all cute n’ shit and then there’s this soft buzzing sound… You crack open your eyes to look at him. His head on your lap as he naps.

“Babe… Are you purring?”

You asked with the biggest grin ever.

“…No.”

He likes when you read to him, he struggles to see (ik ik, he’s eyeless n shit, but I like to think he can still see, it’s js rlly rlly blurry or he has that heat vision where he can see body temps.) So when you can’t read to him, he just listens to audio books.

He’s a gentle giant towards you, y’all literally so cute. AND A GENTLEMAN🤭 he’s the whole damn package (minus the whole… cannibal eating ppl thing.)

He has animalistic like senses. So he can hear, and smell very well. So he can smell when you change your perfume or shampoo.

Imagine him leaning down to hug you (since you’re prob shorter than this tall ahh mf, nah seriously use the Hikaku sitatter site) and his face is buried in the crook of your neck. He’ll say shit like-

“Did you change you’re perfume to Miss Dior Eau De Parfum 30ml?”

“Wha-“

When he started getting comfortable taking his mask off around you, everytime he does you call him ‘Pretty boy’ 🤭.

HE WILL FOLD. Partially bcs he likes getting praised. Partially bcs he’s not a fan of the whole demon look.

His morning voice is literally so sexy help. Frothing at the mouth, on my knees barking.

Yk when you have like a sore head, and then you ask Google what’s up and Google’s all like ‘lol bitch you’re gonna die.’ You ask him about it obviously freaked out and he had to reassure your fine.

Walks in the rain at like 4am.

Every time he sees you, he’ll give you a quick forehead kiss.

Pls pls pls pls pls pls pls, I’m begging you. On my knees and begging for you to not look inside his mini fridge he has sitting in your storage room. Thank u.

He’s got some pretty gnarly things in there. Just be thankful he has the decency to not cross contaminate that shit with your food.

You guys slow dance in the kitchen to Mitski. He spins you around and all that cute shit.

He’s overprotective of you, and when you do get him to come out in public with you, he will growl at anyone that gets a little too close for his likings.

Wearing his hoodie<3. It just makes his dead heart happy.

SASSY MAN APOCALYPSE‼️💯💥

He may seem all quiet and sweet. But he’s sassy af. This. Dude. Has. Attitude.

When you’re telling him to do something in a tone, he’ll mouth you’re words with his hands.

When you guys are cuddling in your bed at night, he’ll randomly nibble on your neck to shoulder. He has sharp ass teeth so it’s a bit nippy, but he makes sure to be extra careful to not draw blood.

He smothers you when you’re under the weather. He’s literally so sweet omfg.

When you guys argue which is like 10% of the time, it takes awhile for him to get agitated. But even when he does he will NEVER raise his hands to you. Other than that he keeps calm.

He will though, get a bit mean, he probably doesn’t mean what he says it’s just a defence mechanism.

He makes it up to you with a cute little gift basket (he stole it.)

Y’all have probably kissed, and he still had the taste of blood in his mouth from eating someone’s kidneys<3

He can’t steal your organs but he can deffo rearrange them ;)

✯.★*°•.°✯•.★*°°·.•°★•✯.★*°•.°✯•.★*°°·.•°★•

[hp-hcs]

mattheo with sick! reader? idk something fluffy about mattheo taking care reader or angsty about reader trying to hide some sorta sickness or maybe mattheo's the sick one you ask for mattheo I shall deliver - yxdls

‼️WARNING: hella gross‼️ like, it goes into genuinely nauseating detail! i’m in a weird mood right now! i don’t know!

fine (chapter one of phoenix tears) — ex-death eater! injured! mattheo riddle x gn! reader

GRAPHIC GORE WARNING

seriously, don’t read if you’re easily grossed out. or eating. actually, just don’t read this at all. it’s pretty poorly written. i’m so sorry yxdls, for whatever this is 😭

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“…and for which scenario would each of the following listed Charms work bes-”

Mattheo was cut off by another of his loud coughing bouts, hacking into his elbow.

Your brow furrowed. “Baby, that’s like, the seventh time you’ve coughed in the last five minutes. Are you sure you’re okay?”

He waved a hand in your direction. “I’m fine. Just a little cough.”

You set down your flashcards, leaning across your bed to lay the back of your hand against his forehead. “You’re burning up, baby.”

“So you think I’m hot?” He asks with a cheeky grin, waggling his eyebrows.

You roll your eyes and lightly smack his arm with the sleeve of your hoodie. “Yes, you idiot. But you also have a helluva fever.”

He grimaced. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

~~~

It was, in fact, Not Fine™. It looked horrible. The skin was sunken in, to a worryingly deep degree, and the edges were blistered and raw, slowly leaking pus and refusing to scab over. Mattheo grimaced as he peeled off the old bandages, biting his bottom lip to keep from screaming when the gauze got caught on part of the torn edge. He was forced to look away as he hastily rewrapped his forearm, trying desperately not to vomit.

The minute he had deserted his father, his Dark Mark had begun to burn, to brand itself into his flesh. The tattoo sank deep into his skin, into his muscles, and into his tendons; Mattheo was convinced that at this point, it was entirely carved into the bone.

It would never go away.

The skin over the tattoo had first erupted with bright red blisters and a sickening rash, which sent Mattheo into a feverish daze for two days. Despite his friends’ protests, he refused to go to the hospital wing.

Nobody could see the Mark. They’d know. They’d know he had been a coward and a fool.

But then, his skin had begun to rot. It was unsettling. Not to mention that the Mark wriggled still, now more furiously than it ever had when he’d been a follower of his father. Combined with the state of his arm, the odd frantic movements of the tattoo felt like phantom maggots, crawling all over him, crawling under his skin, into his eyes, his mouth, Merlin-

~~~

“Riddle, man, you good?” Theodore nudged him and spoke quietly.

Mattheo startled, his eyes flying open from where he had begun to drift off standing up.

Sleep had become impossible. His arm was now constantly afflicted with burning, never-ending pain. Occasionally, random bursts of an even sharper agony would grate up his bones and make his teeth rattle. It felt like being Crucioed, but with no forewarning, no nothing.

“Mattheo!”

He startled again, not even aware that he’d started falling asleep again.

Theo put his hand on Mattheo’s shoulder, even just that small touch sending stomach-churning zaps of fresh pain down his arm. He bit his tongue to keep from crying out, squeezing his eyes shut as he did so.

Theo glanced around the room, waiting for the Herbology professor to turn her back before talking to Mattheo again.

“Dude, you seriously look like you’re about to keel over any second. You should go to the infirmary.”

“‘m fine,” Mattheo rubbed his eyes, his words slurred with feverish delirium. “Don’ need’a go anywhere.”

“Matty, dude, you look like a dead man walking.”

He opened his mouth to protest, when the worst pain he’d ever felt in his entire life struck him out of nowhere. It felt like what Mattheo imagined being beat with a baseball bat, run over by a semi-truck, and being Crucioed at the same time would feel like.

He dropped like a rock, the unrelenting pain forcing the edges of his vision to darken and then fully go black.

~~~ Mattheo woke up to quiet.

His eyes slowly creaked open, and he was greeted with unfamiliar white walls. He blinked quickly to rid the sleep from his eyes, before surveying the room.

It didn’t look like the hospital wing at Hogwarts, but it was definitely a place of medicine, if the bleach-heavy air was anything to go by. Maybe St. Mungo’s?

The overhead lights were off, thank Merlin, leaving the room lit only by the overcast afternoon sky peeking through the window.

But he started to panic when he saw that his arm lay across his chest, freshly wrapped and sore as all hell.

Someone saw.

Somebody saw the Mark of his cowardice.

Of his yearning for his father’s approval.

Fat tears started to roll down Mattheo’s cheeks. His sobs became louder when he saw that you were there.

You probably knew. You probably saw.

Merlin damn it. Why wasn’t there a magical version of HIPAA?

You’d pulled up the visiting chair all the way to the side of Mattheo’s hospital bed, your crossed arms lying on top of the mattress, and your head resting on your arms as a sort of makeshift pillow.

At least you were asleep. Mattheo couldn’t even fathom what he’d have done if you’d been awake.

You surely must hate him now.

How couldn’t you?

He started to raise his right arm, his only currently working one, to wipe away his tears, but the movement was held back.

He had the fleeting but terrifying thought of those cliché leather restraints on hospital beds in horror movies. Honestly, it wasn’t even that far-fetched. He was a criminal. A traitor. A psycho.

Mattheo looked down, expecting the worst.

Instead, he saw your fingers interlaced with his, your thumb slowly skating over his knuckles in a soothing back and forth pattern.

You were holding his hand. Asleep still, yes, but you were actively holding his hand. You were choosing to be near him.

Mattheo burst into tears again, but this time in relief.

If you were still by his side, despite everything, then maybe things really were fine.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

chapter two

[justadeadreaper]

Summoning a spirit and more...

TW: Animal death, Disembowelment/Gutting, Nearly being SA'ed, Murderer and subsequent death, Demon summoning gone wrong, Please tell me if anything that should be put as a warning was not, thanks.

When your friend had asked you if you wanted to try and summon a Demon you had not expected this. Well, kind of. You had heard of multiple ways to summon Demons from all the media you had consumed which mostly ranged from sacrificing a virgin or by creating a summoning cycle or by just contacting one through an ouija board. You had expected the latter to just be cooped up in the abandoned house that seemed to haunt your friend’s street as you had an ouija board and a few candles littering the floor.

But no.

Your friend had to go all out. And by all out you meant all out. It sent a shiver up your spine to the point you thought that this was not the first time they had done this unlike what they had claimed when they had brought up the idea to you. This all seemed too professional, too thought out. But, what did you really expect? You knew how seriously your friend took shit like this, how much research would be put into things they seemed to enjoy and this seemed to just be another case of that passion acting out in full force.

You stood before the asylum your friend had asked you to meet them at. You pulled out your phone to check if you had the right location and time.

Meet me at the Anneliese Sherman Hill Asylum. Check.

2:50AM don’t be late! Check.

You had actually come a few minutes early to make sure you were there on time for whatever your friend wanted to do, you wanted to be a good friend after all. On the other hand you thought over if this was a good idea. You were in the middle of a forest in front of a ruined and abandoned asylum that you knew junkies would visit to shoot up as it looked like a light breeze would be able to knock it down. What if this was all a prank and your friend had actually tricked you into coming here for no reason? What if they lured you here to see if you would actually come so the whole school could laugh at you?

You were by yourself, you did not want to go in alone because God knows who or what could be in there. You were an easy target after all, any lunatic could grab you and do unthinkable things. Your paranoia made you think of all the missing posters that covered your small towns of young adults like you who had gone missing to never be found or the headline on your local new station of bodies that had turned up dead and raped with their hearts missing. You shuddered. You had known some of those people who had been left as nothing but bodies for people to gawk at and say how you had met such a terrible fate. 

As your thoughts began to overwhelm you and plague you with all the horrid outcomes that could come out of you going through with this you heard a noise from above. It broke you out of your train of thoughts especially when you realised that it was your name.

“Y/N! Hello Earth to dumbass! Anyone there?!” Regan called out as half of their body hung out of a fifth story window.

“Regan? Dude what the fuck! Get your ass back inside before you fall out!” You shouted back up as you watched how they nonchalantly stayed where they were.

“Are you my mom or what?! I’m not gonna fall! I’m perfectly fine!” they called back down to you with an almost song-like tone to their voice.

“I don’t give a rat’s ass! Go back in and come down here so we can get on with this!” you responded as their joy seemed to put you more on edge than anything else.

“Yes mother! Anything you say mother!” Regan grumbled as they went back inside so they could descend down the stairs and come fetch you to go through with your plan.

Insane bitch. But were you not just as insane for going through with this? Who cares? At least they showed up.

It only took a few minutes before Regan opened the door with an obnoxious creak. They saw the sour look etched onto your face and could not help but pout back at you.

“What’s up with you? I thought you were a night owl.” Regan whined.

“An asylum?” you sighed.

“Yeah, so?” Regan answered with just as much sass as you.

“Really? It’s an asylum.” You responded as you pointed at the building behind them as if they were an idiot who did not realise where the two of you were.

“By God! I didn’t notice that earlier! How did I not realise?! I must be an idiot!” They turned around to face the building acting like they had never noticed it before as they dramatically put their hands to their face to make the most over the top shocked face they were able to muster that was still somehow riddled with their usual sarcasm.

“Very funny,” you near enough snarled, which only brought a smirk to be smothered all over their face.

“Oh I know,” Regan responded.

“But seriously? An asylum out of all places?” You asked as you tried to swallow down the fear that had started to build in the pit of your stomach while you began to walk up the stairs to meet Regan at the door.

“Of fucking course! You know that asylums are some of the most haunted places in the world! It’s why they’re always used in horror movies or those shitty YouTube videos about ghost hunting. And since they’re so connected to the afterlife it will only make it so much easier for a Demon to come through.” Regan nodded as they pushed open the door so both of you could come inside. The inside was not any better than the outside, it was far worse than you could have ever imagined. Regan had turned on the torch in their hands and began to point it around what once would have been a reception area which now looked to be a demolition site. Most of the ceiling had fallen down exposing the skeleton that once had stood proud as it kept the asylum up but now was drooping as if it could fall to pieces at any moment. The wall paper had been peeled off most of the walls to lay in piles on the floor as the walls now were coated in a constant dampness that built the perfect playground for black mould to spring to life. The two of you began to climb the stairs, having to dodge certain spots where the wood was too weak from rot or where the rot had already fully eaten through to create holes big enough for two adults to drop through into a black void.

“Yeah they’re so haunted because of all the shit that happened here. I’m just saying if I was brutally tortured and treated like a useless baby as staff act like I’m a fucking idiot all because I had a disability I would haunt the place I died. Would probably try and get my revenge on the staff,” you muttered after you had truly seen the state of what once would have been a thriving business even if it had a gruesome history.

It only took a few minutes of climbing the stairs like an obstacle course to reach the floor that Regan had set up for the two of you to summon the Demon. It was unnerving, the whole place was unnerving but this floor was different, extremely different. All the hairs on your arms to the back of your neck had stood up, your whole body was on edge as all your senses seemed to be heightened that you were able to sense everything. All the dampness you had felt when walking through the other floors seemed to have disappeared completely, replaced by an overwhelming staleness that seemed to burn your nose while your lungs felt as if they were tightening at the staleness that overwhelmed them like it was depriving them of oxygen.

The two of you continued your walk as you went deeper into the floor. The hallways were covered in graffiti ranging from phrases to names to dicks with the latter covering most of the walls as they were most likely made by the immature teens from the local highschools that had come here to ditch school and get high or had come to the asylum for fear tests to see if they were cool enough to be part of the group with whatever group had sent them in there. You had continued to walk until you reached another large door that Regan pulled open with a huff to reveal the room they had set up.

It must have originally been a social room that had been turned into a restraintment room when the asylum became overwhelmed with too many patients. Chairs, tables, medical beds, restraints, toys, anything you could think of had been piled into the room but it did not have the former glory it once had once had decades ago. All had slowly rotted away with time with the rest of this damned pace but that did not matter to you, neither did the shattered windows that leaked in some of the cool night air and moonlight as its glass decorated the floor. The only thing that mattered was how Regan had set up the room.

For you to see there were candles scattered all over the floor and on certain pieces of the furniture in either bundles of three or seven. Most were burnt around halfway down as the wax trickled to the ground, melting into the cracks of the floor as if they were filling them in. Set up on an old medical table was an altar that had a black cat tied to it as it was connected by a simple chalk line to a summoning circle that spanned over most of the floor as an ouija board laid directly in the middle of it all. It was all too much, you knew that if you were in a horror movie that you would be the first to be taken out by whatever entity had decided to go on a killing spree that day. This looked like it was directly out of a horror movie and you did not want to be part of it. You wanted to immediately turn around and run away but something was stopping you, like a dark force beyond your comprehension had taken control and forced you to stay there and continue like this was a normal everyday thing.

The two of you slowly walked over to the board and sat around it, one of you on each side. Slowly you both put your fingers on the planchette and began moving it to spell out both of your names. First Regan’s and then yours.

“Anyone here with us?” Regan asked.

Ding, ding, ding.

The old church bells rang out, far in the distance from the safety of the town to officially announce that it was finally 3AM, the witching hour. The pit in your stomach seemed to grow to the size of a blackhole as you prayed that nothing would happen as you had wished you had brought some holy water from the church. 

The planchette moved.

Yes.

“How many are there?” Regan asked another question as you preferred to stay silent. The planchette continued to move as it slid towards a number.

One.

“What are you?” you asked as you hoped it was just a tortured spirit.

The planchette rapidly moved from letter to letter to spell out the word you dreaded.

Demon. Regan only smiled as you let out a breath you had never realised that you had been holding.

“Do you want us to free you?” Regan asked.

The planchette moved once more.

Yes.

“What will you give us in return?” Regan questioned.

The planchette moved for one last time.

Anything you wish.

Regan then got up and walked over to the altar. They reached over somewhere and pulled out a knife that you had not noticed earlier.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you asked Regan as they lifted the knife above their head.

“It needs a blood sacrifice to come through,” Regan answered.

“That’s a living fucking cat you can’t fucking do that!” You shouted back as you got up to stop them.

But you stopped in your tracks once you saw the look on their face once they turned to face you. Eyes once warm and full of life were now filled with this cold uncaringness that froze you still as it chilled your spine. Regan was normally so nice and loving but this was something different. This was not the Regan you knew. For a brief moment you thought that they were the Demon instead of the thing they were trying to summon.

“Don’t worry, I got her from a local shelter. Poor thing was in a coma, so they were gonna put her down anyway. I’m just doing it so at least her life could be useful in one way,” Regan shrugged coldly which only sent another shiver down your spine.

Although you were not able to fully process their words before they drove the knife right through the innocent cat’s body again and again and again. Blood splattered onto them in a bloody fountain while some leaked out from beneath the cat and dripped down over the edge of the metal bed as it collected in a puddle before spreading out and hitting the chalk that made up the summoning circle. The blood by some supernatural force started to multiply and flood the chalk with the crimson liquid before it came to life with a sudden burst of flames that knocked you to the ground with a thud.

Your head hit the floor and everything seemed to blur as you let out a pathetic groan. Even with the blur you could see the flames as they spread around the room causing everything flammable to catch alight to be turned to ash by its gluttonous hunger. You had started to accept your fate of being engulfed by the flames as all your body felt like it was being weighed down by a thousand suns making it impossible to scream. That was until you heard that glass shattering scream followed by a maniac laughter that echoed around the room. You just had to look up, how could you not?

Your eyes strained to try and figure out the shape hunched over the altar as your whole body screamed out not too as you began to force yourself to sit up. It only took a few moments before you saw it.

It was a disgusting thing you had never seen the likes of before. A ghastly mass of muscles and eyes that shambled in its movements, the only thing keeping it together were the scales scattered over the exposed flesh that glistened in the flames by the mucus that coated the veins that pulsed alive with the demonic blood that spewed through them. It made you sick. Especially when you saw the seven long, obsidian claws that were driven right through your (now ex) friend’s chest, blood gurgling out of their mouth with bubbles as it spilt onto the floor.

That thing unrolled a tumorous tongue from its skewered maul that was made up of eyes upon eyes piled onto flesh, exposing the rows upon rows that covered the inside of the dog-like jaw. The thing pulled it upwards, licking up all the blood with a guttural groan as if such a thing gave it a sickening pleasure.

“Thank you for summoning me, finally don’t have to use an avatar to have my fun now,” it told you with a sadistic smile on its face, it did not need to even move its mouth for its words to come out, you could still hear its raspy voice anyway.

It turned its head back to your friend and used its claws to carve its way down your friend's chest before pulling back their skin to expose their wet inside to the smokey air. First it took their intestines out and wrapped it around their horns which spiralled upwards as if they had once been joined together to make a circle. Then it pulled out Regan’s heart and chucked it into its mouth and chewed on it for a few seconds before spitting it out in disgust.

“Ugh, disgusting... impure..." It growled before turning to you.

It turned its claws downwards and slowly let Regan drop off like they were a toy that had unsatisfied it as it let their body crumple with a thud. It slowly began to crawl to you as it spoke again with that haunting voice that seemed to fill your body.

“I’ll have fun with them later but how about I try a pretty thing like you out first?” it asked mockingly as if it was trying to toy with you in what should have been your last moments.

You tried to desperately crawl away but your body was too weak from the floor to move to save yourself from whatever it wanted. You wanted to scream and shout to try and get someone to notice you so they could save you from your gruesome fate that played out in front of you. But your voice seemed to have vanished, replaced by the burning in your lungs that was caused by the smoke that seemed to fill the room as the oxygen was quickly used up.

Admittedly you sometimes wanted to die when life became too much and the voices seemed to drown out any rational thought but you had never planned to die like this at the hands of that beast. You kept trying to squirm away until it pounced onto your back, pinning you to the floor with an excruciating weight that stopped all of your movements as the little breath you had left was knocked out of you. You wanted to kick yourself free and beat the shit out of this sick fuck but your body had decided otherwise. In all honesty you began to give up especially when you felt its drool and breath run over your neck as it thrusted against your thigh. Tears started to swell up in your eyes as you wanted them to stay put but stream down all at the same time as that sick fuck began to laugh.

Then nothing.

It seemed to stop laughing or moving or even moving. Its weight then fell on you with full force keeping you pinned more than you thought it could before. Then you began to feel wet. Wet all over. As if a warm liquid had been spilt all over you. Then suddenly all the weight seemed to be pulled away as you finally seemed to be able to breathe a true breath even if it was filled with smoke.

You could not understand why it had suddenly stopped. Maybe it thought about how atrocious it was acting? Impossible. So you decided to turn around even if instincts were telling you not to and instead run.

As soon as you turned around you wanted to scream at what you saw. Laying in front of you was a dead Demon laying in a pool of black blood that had soaked into your clothes and behind it, oh God what the fuck was behind it. It looked like a man but it was too tall as four wings sprouted from its back while horns sprouted from its head much like the Demon it had killed but these ones were joined together to create a circle that emitted a light. From beneath the robes, chains, and bones that obscured its body you could see some clearly defined muscles riddled with scars that would have made you slightly blush if you were not thinking about the long metal blade it was pointing towards you as murderous eyes hid behind a skull of a more humanoid demon.

You coward in fear thinking it would kill you like it had done in fear. You whimpered as you pulled your body into itself in a pathetic display and it seemed to... hesitate? You reopened your eyes to look at it as its eyes seemed to be filled by something but you could truly not tell what. It looked away as if thinking for a minute before turning back to you as it lowered his sword.

“C’mon..." it said in a gravelly voice that seemed British as you first heard it.

You did what it said as you felt like you had no other choice as it could clearly kill you. You slowly got up with wobbling legs as you walked over to it to take the bandage hand it had offered. As you took its hand a beam of light came through the roof and not a second later you felt yourself being pulled up with great strength. You screamed as you felt yourself being pulled tight against its chest. Your arms wrapped tightly around the creature as you could feel the toned abs beneath the robes causing a blush to lightly dust your cheeks.

Below you saw the asylum as it burnt away to cinders with the body of Rean, the poor cat, and the Demon inside. Then you turned to see the being that had saved you once more as it continued to fly upwards. That was when you realised what it was. An Angel.

People joked about how Angels actually looked terrifying and that was why they said ‘Do not be afraid.’ when they first saw humans. When looking at the one that held you tightly you understood perfectly as to why. But for now you felt safe as you realised that it was most likely taking you to Heaven.

This was probably not the ending you had thought of when you had agreed to summon a Demon but maybe being saved by this Angel was actually the best choice at the moment.

Taglist: @diejager @frogchiro

So, hi. Sorry, I have not posted in a few days as I have been busy with family. I still can not believe that this is my last post of 2023 since I still can not believe it is the end of the year as it does not feel like it. So yay to a breakdown over the passage of time. To be fair I am not fully happy with it so I may come back and edit it in the future. I just want to say a quick thank you for all the support as I honestly did not expect anyone to enjoy my writing, I hope all your New Year's resolutions come true. Hopefully, I can post more in the coming year as I am planning for more AUs and hopefully a full rewrite of COD MW with some extras. If you guys like this fanfic I will try to post more fanfics and maybe make this summoning fic a series of Ghost taking care of reader and hiding them in Heaven. Or I will try to post some mini-fics depending on what people want so if anyone has any ideas just put them in my askbox and I will try to write a fic on it, even smut. And I may post some headcanons of the characters. Also if you want to be tagged in anything just say as I am trying to organise everything so we can have smooth sailing in the future. But I hope you liked this as I have not wrote a fanfic in a good while. But Happy New Year's Eve and Happy New Year!!!!

[shotorozu]

HEYYYY i really wanna see a shoto x reader with the HMM HOW DO I SAY THIS the started dating them to see if he could make them fall in love with him/ started dating them as a challenge but ended up falling for them trope WITH A HAPPY ENDING please help 🙏🙏🙏🙏

just a bet

ft. todoroki shouto (bnha)

use of Y/N and L/N, gender neutral reader, quirk’s not specific

bullet form -> full fledged fanfic (basically it’s written in a bullet form but it turns into your standard fanfic format with paragraphs and such)

fluff, angst with happy ending (shouto misinterprets things said)

note(s): i forgor my format so i made a new one 💀 btw i don’t really see shouto dating someone as a bet, but i can’t see any other way to write this request— so i made my own spin and interpretation on it 😁 ana��s from the future here, and i may or may not have gone overboard 😭

»»————-　♡　————-««

todoroki shouto

as mentioned in the notes section, i don’t see shouto as someone that’d date someone as a challenge— to see if they’d fall in love with him and such, or as a bet.

shouto’s not really invested in his love life when it comes to when he’ll find someone, but that doesn’t mean he won’t take it seriously.

he saw the domino effect his parents’ failed romance had on his family, and refuses to be in an imbalanced relationship— let alone date someone he isn’t dead set on.

so with that being said, a misinterpretation of words is what triggered the current set of events.

kaminari had noticed that the way shouto looked at you couldn’t be friendly, platonic yearning. whether or not shouto thought he was being obvious of not, or if he even realized it— he definitely had feelings for you.

and it was starting to become excruciating to watch for kaminari— to witness a cool, popular and attractive guy, not date this equally cool, popular, and attractive person he likes.

so then, that’s when it started.

scenario (pt. 1)

hook—

“i bet ¥1,200 that you can’t date L/N, todoroki!”

shouto stops in place, giving kaminari a side eye. “i don’t need ¥1,200. i have more than enough in my pocket money.”

line—

kaminari lets out a sigh, forgetting that todoroki’s pockets hurt. but he doesn’t falter one bit. “i meant that, i bet you can’t confess to them, ‘s all. the money was just a bonus.”

and that’s what really catches his attention. “confess to them about what?” he inquires genuinely, like he was trying to recall if he needed to tell you something regarding this.

kaminari’s eyes dart around, like anyone would be around to witness the absurdly. “that you like them? what else??”

shouto thinks for a moment, and it looks as if he’s trying to recall things from a different perspective. “… have i not been clear?”

“to me, yes. to them.. probably? maybe? most likely no.” kaminari says exasperated, hand now coming up to pat his shoulder. shouto feels stiff as a board under the brief contact. “you’re a popular dude, if they realized then you two would’ve been dating for months now!”

“i don’t think confessing right now is necessary. i believe i’m fine with just staying near them. our friendship.. is quite satisfactory.”

—and sinker.

“so you don’t have any courage to confess? does that mean you’ll just let someone else snatch them up?” after the words left his mouth, shouto makes a significantly obvious pause.

kaminari thinks to himself loudly, “hmm.. i wonder who will it be?” he questions, rhetorically. “should i do it? should class 1-B’s ever so cocky monoma do it? they seem to get along swimmingly. or maaaybe—”

“that won’t be a concern.” shouto coldly cuts in. “because i’ll do it.”

kaminari holds back his smile, instead— replacing it with a shocked expression (which isn’t really fabricated becaus he didn’t think he’d actually fold) “really? woah, i didn’t think that’d change your mind so quick.”

“but then wait, what do i get if you lose?”

“hm, what do you get when i lose..” shouto mimics the question— although its not said as one.

“yeah, we are betting on this, right?”

shouto shakes his head. “then it would be an unfair bet.”

“because i’ve planned on confessing and dating them regardless. i will win.”

and he did in fact go on and win the “bet” by a landslide (if you’d even call it one 😭)

he confessed his feelings— pulling you aside one afternoon after class, heart practically hammering in his chest, and stomach fluttering with butterflies.

and you accepted— which made all the anxiety worth it.

he was the ideal boyfriend. not just because he was tall, equipped with stunning and harmonious facial features with equally stunning manners, but it was also because he was just so good to you, and he allowed you to be so good to him too.

he did things he didn’t even have to do, and it all feels comfortably new even months into the relationship— which made you realize that as unbelievable as it sounds, you’re really dating your crush, todoroki shouto.

you felt so sure of yourself when you’re around him.

and that’s why you reacted so harshly when everything that was built up for months seemingly got demolished in minutes.

the two of you were getting warm drinks, when mineta appeared just a few feet away. “you two make me realize that the train tracks look good to lay down on.” he mumbles bitterly.

you laugh, stirring your drink “really now?” kaminari appears shortly after, agreeing. although he doesn’t look as bitter as your shorter classmate.

mineta perks up at that. “yeep. which makes me wonder.. how long are you going to do this for, todoroki? kaminari already lost, y’know?”

todoroki’s eyes widen at the question, “i don’t.. what?”

kaminari turns his head in mineta’s direction, like he said something of great offense, and was about to say more. “mineta, just don’t man.”

“no no, but i’m like, just super curious y’know?” mineta continues, “like, wasn’t it just a bet for you? how did you two get this far?! this is unfair! i didn’t know it would be that easy to get in a relationship!” your grape haired classmate whines, unable to read the sudden atmosphere change.

kaminari gulps, as you set your mug down.

“what does he mean.” you turn to your dual haired boyfriend, you try to steady your breathing to sound nonchalant, but the slight crack in your voice at the start of your sentence betrays you.

shouto opens his mouth, but it just confirmed it for you when he was a second too late to answer.

“you see—” kaminari scrambles to give an excuse, “it was proposed as a bet, but it wasn’t actually a bet, so technically—”

“that sounds like a bet, dude.”

“mineta—”

“it’s not as it sounds. it wasn’t a bet.” shouto answers, “though.. the circumstances should’ve been different.” he admits regretfully, heterochromatic eyes drifting from your face to your feet, noticing how you shift away from him.

and his body runs cold like a quirk malfunction when you grab your mug— fingertips against the now cool porcelain “i.. i just.. no, nevermind, it’s alright. i’m gonna go now, so..”

you know your face and voice will betray you if you stay longer, so you leave.

and shouto stands there, wondering if he should give you space and watch your figure disappear into the dark hallway, or run after you.

he chooses the later.

scenario (pt. 2)

you heave when you finally reach your room, fingers gripping your mug so hard it might just break. your vision’s starting to blur with tears of all the things you’ve been feeling these last few minutes, which is causing you to drop your dorm room’s key and miss the keyhole several times.

when you get the key in, you turn the lock and almost crumble right in when you feel a warm hand placed on your shoulder. you try not to focus on how it’s grip is firm enough to keep you in place, and blazing with familiarity.

he says your name with desperation, and you open your door more and step into your room to create space— the framing of your doorway practically being an invisible barrier.

“no, just no, i can’t,” you say, feeling pathetic when your face started to become wet with tears. you’re still unbelieving that he’d even do this, but the fact that these few months happened under not so standard circumstances was…

“i thought this was— this was something that’d happen out of those stupid teen movies we’d watch, i thought you’d never— i thought—” you hiccup, bringing a hand up to wipe your face with a hand.

he doesn’t say anything, and just breaks the barrier by stepping in and closing the door, setting your mug down on your desk. he then closes even more distance— the space between his brows creasing as he frowns, looking just as upset as you definitely look.

“when did it start? was it before we became close? was it before you asked me out? who else knew? was it all real—”

“it is real!” his voice booms with volume, clearly panicked that the idea of you thinking that his feelings weren’t real was present.

he settles his hands on your shoulders, an attempt to gather your full attention “it’s.. it’s real. if there’s one thing i’d ask you to trust in right now, it’s this. there’s some things i’d like to clarify.”

“please explain,” you practically plead, “i don’t know what to do with this information. i also.. don’t want to break up with you.”

“if you must come to that,” though he looks at you like he prays it won’t come to that. “it must be under the condition that you’ve hurt me instead. not because i’ve caused you hurt.” he lets go of you to sit down on his knees and at your feet.

“shouto, stand up—”

“i.. it’s true that i didn’t confess normally.” he starts off, ignoring your request. “i’ve liked you ever since we’ve became close friends. the moment i realized it, i assumed i was being obvious about my feelings, but kaminari betted that i wouldn’t have the courage to confess and.. someone would get to you first. i took that as a threat.”

you almost laugh at the idea of a jealous shouto, but you don’t— instead, letting out a strangled cough instead. “but i did not date you just because of a bet. i was challenged, but it was never a bet. it wasn’t a bet because there was no chance i’d never confess.”

you sniffle, bending down to be at his level. he reaches up to wipe his thumbs under your eyes— thumbs grazing at your cheekbones. “did you get anything in return? for winning?”

“i got you. that was all i needed.”

“i see..” you lean closer like you were going to whisper him a secret. but instead, you finally touch shouto by circling your arm around him— one arm wrapped around him, and the other flew to entangle your fingers in contrasting locks of hair.

“my drink became cold.” you mumble, rubbing his back when you feel him shake just as you did earlier.

he wraps strong arms around you, returning the affection.

“i’ll warm it up for you.”

[patchworkgargoyle]

Fort Munson 🌿

For Lex's Spicy Six Summer Fanworks Challenge, based on the dialogue prompt: "That’s the most elaborate treehouse I’ve ever seen." Thanks for putting all this together @thefreakandthehair! Rating: G or T (for swearing) || CW: none. || Words: ~3.8k On Ao3 Here~

Heat sat stagnant and cloying inside Eddie’s room where he and Steve lay sprawled on the floor. Eddie had said that heat rises, so they’d migrated from the bed to the worn-in carpet, and now starfished there silently. Steve could feel the stickiness of sweat on his forehead. If there were a breeze coming in through the open window it’d be fine, but all that filtered in were the high, raspy sounds of crickets and cicadas.

Could they go to Steve’s, where the AC wasn’t busted for another week until the repair guy could come out to fix it? Yeah. Sure. It was homey at the trailer, comforting. Warm. So fucking warm. He sighed, and swore his own breath was cooler than the air surrounding them. But Steve would rather stay here with Eddie than be home alone. Lately he’d rather hang out with Eddie than do most other things, other than hang out with Robin. 

She’d teased him for it, of course, when Steve told her about his crush on Eddie. Said he’d gotten a crush on a boy that looked like a mop, scrawny and all hair, and being offended on Eddie’s behalf he shoved her off the couch. Well, he’d meant to just push her, but her balance was terrible and down she toppled. After she’d gotten over her surprise, and their swearing and giggling and retaliatory slapping had calmed down, Robin told him, “I’m excited for you, Steve,” with a sappy grin. He’d just shrugged and tried to hide his own bashful smile.

So when Eddie asked yesterday if Steve would want to spend his day off at his place, his expressive, gorgeous brown eyes sparkling, there was no way Steve would turn him down. Even if it was so hot Steve felt he’d start melting into the floor.

“This sucks.”

Steve craned his neck to look at Eddie, who was frowning up at the ceiling. His bangs had gone a little stringy. “Huh?” Steve said.

“This heat, it fucking sucks dude. This isn’t hanging out.” His arm raised to lazily flail between them both then flopped loudly to the floor again. A different kind of warmth sparked up Steve’s arm when their pinkies touched, and Steve concentrated very hard on not flinching or hooking their fingers together. “This is dying. Slowly. Uneventfully. I feel like a slow roasted chicken.”

Humming, Steve said, “Yeah.”

Finally Eddie’s head tilted to the side, facing Steve. An amused smile tugged the corner of his lips down and now Steve had to concentrate on not looking. “Sounds like the heat’s melted your brains, big boy. I can see ‘em leaking out your ears.”

It’s more than just the heat, Steve wanted to say, opened his mouth and nearly let the words escape, but he caught himself with a breathy laugh. “I think you’re right,” he replied instead.

“‘Cause I’m always right.”

Steve just raised a doubtful eyebrow. It climbed higher when Eddie stuck his tongue out.

“Well I’m right about this sucking. C’mon, I’ve got an idea.” Eddie slapped his thighs and bolted upright, rolling to his feet with surprising ease while Steve peeled himself off the carpet with much less gusto and a lot more complaining.

“You’re seriously making us move right now?” he grumbled as he stood. But he heard Eddie groan and before he realised, Steve’s hands shot out to stabilise him as he wobbled.

“Shouldn’t’ve got up so fast,” he said sheepishly.

Still holding Eddie by the shoulders, Steve snorted. “You think?” He held onto Eddie just shy of too long before letting his hands drop. “Alright, you made me get up, this better be worth it.”

“Oh it’s worth it.” Eddie winked, then led them out of the trailer–only pausing to lock up–and instead of heading to one of their vehicles he started down the road towards the dead end.

While the heat out here wasn’t as stale, it almost felt worse, the sun bearing down on them directly. The road behind them shimmered with that faint heat mirage and Steve could feel it through the soles of his sneakers. “Pretty sure this sucks worse, Eddie.”

Eddie spun on his heel and started walking backwards. “Don’t you trust me?” he asked, a coy tip to his chin.

With his life. But Steve wouldn’t say that, either. “I dunno, Munson. You’re leading me into the woods, alone, no witnesses? Kinda suspicious of you.”

“I am offended, Steve, how could you say such a thing to me, of all people?” He clutched his chest and dramatically threw his head back, only to stumble when the asphalt gave way to dirt and sparse grass. Steve jolted to try and catch him, but Eddie recovered quickly, grinning widely. “See, could a suspicious guy do that?”

Steve laughed, a little baffled. “Nah, now you’re just a klutz.”

“At least I can trust you to try and catch me, Stevie.”

The fondness Steve thought he heard in Eddie’ voice would’ve made him blush if the heat hadn’t done that already. They held each other’s gaze, standing close, just a moment in time that stretched out like a plucked guitar string left to ring. Eddie cut it off with a nod to the woods. Steve was helpless, and couldn't do anything but follow.

Grasshoppers lived up to their name, hopping through the brittle, sun bleached grass as they avoided the boys’ careless feet. Steve watched a few cling to Eddie’s bare calves before he shook them off. When they’d gotten a few feet into the treeline, the leaves above sheltered them on their walk. The shade was desperately needed. He felt like he could breathe again, even if it wasn’t all that much cooler, but he still took a moment to stretch his arms up over his head and inhale the greenness of sun-warmed leaves. Steve let his arms fall again with a small, satisfied groan, pulling the hem of his shirt back into place, and saw Eddie staring. “What?”

Eddie swallowed, then shrugged. “Told you it’d be better.”

“I know, I trusted you,” Steve teased and bumped their shoulders together. Though Eddie tried to hide his shy smile behind a lock of hair, Steve still saw it, matched it with his own. There was a certain type of gleaming pride he felt when he managed to get Eddie to smile like that. “Are we going somewhere, though, or are we just on a walk in the woods?”

“We’re goin’ somewhere. Just don’t laugh when we get there.”

“No promises,” Steve said, teasing again, and Eddie half-heartedly shoved him for it.

“Now I don’t know if I wanna show you,” Eddie said with a miffed tone. He started walking again, though, so Steve kept pace.

“Why, is this some kind of secret nerd lair? Superman’s Cave of Loneliness?”

The sheer amount of disbelief and dismay in Eddie’s face when he whirled to face him made Steve howl with laughter. “I’m sorry, ‘Cave of Loneliness!?’ I don’t even read Superman and I know it’s the Fortress of Solitude, man. It’s in the movies!” Eddie squawked.

“How is Fortress of Solitude any different from Cave of Loneliness, huh?” Eddie’s mouth opened and shut once, then again, and Steve knew he’d won. “Yeah, you can’t say shit, Eddie, you know I’m right.”

Eddie glared so venomously that Steve almost missed the charmed smile he was poorly fighting off. “Fuck you, Harrington,” he said, though his lips pursed trying to keep from laughing.

“You wish.” Steve winked, then started walking in the direction Eddie had been leading them in. When Eddie lagged behind, face frozen in shock, Steve fixed him with an expectant look until the lights came back on behind Eddie’s eyes and he scrambled forward.

The trees grew taller, wider, and more gnarled the further they walked, and the shade grew deeper. Sunshine flecked the forest floor, showing the way between the trunks and glancing off still-green foliage untouched by the summer heat. It was beautiful, but Steve kept getting distracted by the way the light caught in Eddie’s hair; the dappling made the strands of dark brown flash with vibrant reds and richer browns, and danced over his cheekbones like golden kisses. Steve wanted to replace them with his own, his chest aching sweetly with desire, but he wasn’t brave enough yet.

He could still wish for it, though. Eddie’s skin would probably feel soft under Steve’s lips. He’d take his time, too, placing one languid, deliberate kiss after the other, tracing the path the sun had left.

The bubble of his daydream popped when Eddie came to a halt in front of a massive old oak and spread his arms upwards with a, “Ta-dah!” Following his wiggling fingers, Steve saw the structure sitting snugly in the tree’s sturdy, sprawling branches.

A treehouse. The foundation of it seemed to be built from old railroad ties, bolted into the trunk, while the rest of it looked a little newer. Big, childishly menacing eyes were painted around the windows, and below those and slashed across the door was a mouth full of triangle-shaped teeth; in the middle of the mouth, on the door, a red tongue lolled out. The rest of the rounded walls looked like they’d been black once, but had now faded away to a mottled, chipped grey. A fake chimney sprouted from the roof, which was shaped like a cone and covered with mismatched shingles. While the base still seemed sturdy, the house itself was starting to look a little rickety.

“What do you think?”

“That’s the most elaborate treehouse I’ve ever seen.” That wasn’t even a lie. Steve had said it genuinely, and with a fair bit of surprise. He would’ve been over the moon if he’d seen this as a kid.

Eddie beamed at the praise. “Ain’t it? Wayne and I built it ourselves. Well, we had a bit of help from one of his buddies from the plant who does carpentry on the side, but still. Took a whole summer to build too.” He walked to the trunk and that’s when Steve spotted the rusty ladder rungs drilled into the tree. His ringed hand closed around a rung with a clicking sound.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Eddie,” Steve warned.

Rolling his eyes so hard his whole head followed, Eddie said, “Live a little, Stevie!” Hoisting himself up, Eddie began to scale the ladder easily, his hands and feet finding each placement like it was habitual. It probably was. Steve watched him climb the ten-ish feet up–and absolutely appreciated the view–until Eddie landed on the narrow space between the edge of the foundation and the door and pushed the door open on its squeaky hinges. “See, nothing to worry about. Hurry up, you’re missing the party!” he shouted over the edge before ducking into the treehouse.

Huffing, Steve shook his head and followed Eddie up at a much more cautious pace. Not a single rung was loose, thankfully. At the top, he clambered onto the foundation and found the house was a little smaller than it seemed from the ground, but Eddie had wedged himself inside against the left side, still smiling, legs folded in so that Steve could crouch his way inside.

“This is, uh, a tight fit,” he grunted, smacking the back of his head on the doorway.

“Be careful,” Eddie said, and Steve glared without any heat.

“Bit late for that.”

Some shuffling, arguing, and contorted limbs later, and Steve was settled inside the treehouse. His and Eddie’s legs were practically intertwined as they sat across from each other, but it wasn’t too uncomfortable; the curve of the rounded walls was pretty nice to rest against, actually.

“This is great,” he said as he inspected the place. Cobwebs hung everywhere, and he was sure a racoon had slept in the leaves and fur piled next to him. There was a dusty red plastic kid’s chair tucked under a piece of plywood jutting from the wall that must’ve been a desk, but now held an abandoned bird’s nest. The walls were covered in crayon drawings: stick figures with swords and guns acting out grand battles against monsters, a big castle that had a flag with an ‘M’ on it, a red dragon shooting laser beams instead of fire from its mouth. Steve nodded at the dragon with his chin. “That’s different.”

Eddie snorted. “Yeah, that and the dudes with guns started when my dad let me watch Wizards way too young.” At Steve’s quizzical expression, he continued, “Animated movie from ‘77. I dunno, you might like it. It’s not your typical fantasy stuff.”

“I like fantasy sometimes, just not when Dustin keeps ragging on me to watch or read or play it all the damn time.”

“Fair,” Eddie laughed.

“Maybe we could watch it sometime, together?”

He looked pleasantly surprised. “You’d wanna watch a weird fantasy movie with me?” Steve shrugged. “Alright man, it’s a date. Just tell me when and where and I’ll procure the goods.”

Something fluttered in Steve’s belly when Eddie said ‘it’s a date,’ even though he hadn’t meant it like that. Still, that genuine little smile that lingered on Eddie's face gave him just the tiniest glint of unwanted hope.

“When did you and your uncle build this?” he asked to distract himself from the small riot happening inside himself.

“When I was eleven. I’d been living with Wayne for about a year, and he wanted to do something for me to celebrate even though I’d spent most of that year being a little shit. His friend Dale had gotten ahold of the wood for free, and Wayne had known about this old treehouse foundation,” Eddie knocked on the floor, “for a while. So during the summer he took some time off from work and we built it with Dale’s help in a week. Definitely stabbed my foot with a nail once.”

Steve looked at the construction with a new appreciation, and also a little bit of old, selfish longing. But he pushed that down. “That sounds nice.”

“You ever have a treehouse built around Harrington Manor?”

“Nah.” Steve wrapped his arms around his knees and rested his chin where they crossed. “I tried to convince my dad once when I was little. He even bought the stuff for it. Mom told him it’d be an eyesore in the yard, though, and I was too young to take it all into the woods and build it by myself. It just sat around until my dad got rid of it.”

Eddie hummed, a bitter twist to his mouth. It was a look he always got on the rare times Steve talked about his parents. “Wouldn’t it be kinda funny if that treehouse stuff you dad got rid of was the wood Dale found? This shit was all pre-cut and everything, I think.”

Chuckling a bit, Steve said, “Yeah, maybe.”

“I choose to believe it, and therefore I decree it to be True.” Head held high, Eddie smacked his fist into the floor like a gavel. Steve didn’t bother hiding the grin that crept up on him. “Twas yours once, King Steve, then passed on to become Fort Munson so that you may in the future visit the bounty you bestowed upon the Kingdom of Munson as a sign of peace and goodwill.”

“I would’ve thought this’d be Castle Munson.”

“Nope, that’s the trailer, Steve. Get it right.”

Steve laughed hard enough to knock his head against the wall. Eddie was too good at that, making Steve’s gloomy moments brighter with his nerdy antics, and while Steve figured it was the crush making everything Eddie did that much more, he hoped it wouldn’t fade. Even if it also made his chest hurt.

“Would’ve been nice if we’d built it together, as kids. If we’d been friends then, y’know?” He sighed and turned away from Eddie, not that it was easy to hide in the tight space they’d jammed themselves into. “Maybe I’d–maybe things would’ve turned out differently.”

A clean white Reebok knocked into Steve’s dirty Nike. A scolding. “ Stop beating yourself up over there or I’m gonna start doing it for you. I don’t want different, Stevie. Don’t want you any different.”

Steve hid cheek against his arms when he felt it grow red, hoped Eddie wouldn’t notice it travelling up to the tip of his ear. “I don’t think beating me up for beating myself up is helpful,” he huffed.

“Well I’m gonna. Don’t test me. I’ll use percussive maintenance on your ass.”

Steve frowned, but not at the nonsense words that came out of Eddie’s mouth. “What’s that?” he asked.

“What, percussive maintenance? It’s like when you hit the TV to make the signal come through, or–oh. Uh.”

There was a drawing next to Steve’s head, a stick figure knight kneeling and kissing the hand of another stick figure that wore a crown. He traced a curious finger over the crown and the short hair of the drawing, the yellow and black crayon still waxy after a decade of weathering. “Aren’t princesses supposed to have long hair or something?”

Eddie’s feet shuffled away from Steve’s. His heart plummeted in his chest, a drop from a rollercoaster, and he watched Eddie’s face turn inscrutable, his eyes fixed downward. Shit. What had he done wrong? The humourless laugh that followed made Steve feel even worse.

“Eddie, I’m sorry, I–”

“Sure, when you’re a kid princesses have long hair,” Eddie interrupted. His hands were locked together, almost white-knuckle tight, twitching up and down with a nervous tick Steve knew well, and a muscle jumped in his jaw. It looked like he was fighting something, whether to say something or not. All Steve wanted to do was reach out, pry his hands apart and take them into his own, but he wasn’t sure if that would even be welcome now or not.

“You don’t have to tell me, whatever it is. I put my foot in my mouth all the time, man, you can just tell me to fuck off.”

“No, I. I–I gotta. Robin said I should just, just do it, you know? Just gimmie a second.”

Steve frowned, concerned, but kept quiet, even as Eddie ran his now shaking hands through his hair. A curl got caught in one of his rings and Eddie cursed, but Steve darted forward to gently untangle it before Eddie just ripped it out. He tucked the soft strand back amongst the rest with care and met Eddie’s dark, wide, longing eyes.

Eddie groaned and hid his face in his hands. “See, Steve, you go and do shit like that and sometimes I think I can do this, but. Fuck.”

Heart hammering in his chest, Steve asked, urged, “What, Eddie?”

“That’s a prince, Steve.” The words came out as a shaky whisper and hung in the small space between them, caught in the air like dust motes.

It took Steve much less time to connect the dots this time than the last time someone came out to him. “So… you’re gay?”

A shuddering sigh escaped Eddie’s chest and his shoulders slumped. He still didn’t look up. “Yeah. I mean, I’ve had a crush on girls once or twice, but. Mostly just guys.”

Steve didn’t know it was possible to feel like this, this jumble of calm and relief and so hopeful and happy he could dance or shout or shake something. Fireworks over a still lake. He balled his fists just to keep from grabbing Eddie and yanking him closer.

“That’s cool. Good, actually.”

Eddie snorted and started to lift his head. “‘Good?’ What do you mean, good?”

While Eddie spoke, Steve quickly shuffled to his knees–staying hunched over so he didn’t bump his head again–and leaned into Eddie’s space a fraction more, hands braced by Eddie’s hips to keep from flopping into his lap. Eddie stared up at him, awed, slack-jawed, and Steve could feel his warm breath ghost across his cheeks, could see the way the summer had intensified the faint freckles that dusted the bridge of Eddie’s nose. They stood out more as the blush in his cheeks darkened.

“I like both,” Steve shared quietly, earnestly. “I like you, Eddie.”

“You… you like me?”

Steve grinned, wide and goofy but he couldn’t care less. “Yeah. I like you a lot.”

“Holy shit. Holy shit–”

“Eddie,” Steve laughed and cupped his warm, scarred cheek in his palm. He’d meant to pull Eddie in for a kiss, to finally make all those daydreams come true, but instead Eddie’s hand wrapped around his. Gently, Eddie brought it away from his face, his grasp sliding down to the tips of Steve’s fingers as he arched Steve’s hand. Then he brought it to his lips, gaze set meaningfully on Steve’s. Pressed his lips to the back of Steve’s hand in a kiss so reverent it had goosebumps breaking out over Steve’s skin, making his breath catch around the sudden lump in his throat.

“I like you a lot too, Steve,” Eddie said, still quiet, as if speaking any louder would burst the fragile and pearlescent bubble of joy around their puzzle-pieced bodies. Steve touched his forehead to Eddie’s with a watery laugh. He couldn’t help it, pulled there by a tug on his heartstrings, and his grin grew almost painful when Eddie nuzzled their noses together.

All it took was the slightest movement. Neither boy could tell who did it first; both of them met in the middle. Steve felt Eddie’s bottom lip press between his, cradled it there softly, pouring every bit of yearning and desire he’d been feeling for months into this one simple touch. When they parted with that delicate sound of a broken kiss, Steve’s eyes fluttered open to see Eddie’s still closed. A slow, satisfied smile grew, making those dimples Steve loved so much appear in Eddie’s cheeks.

And Eddie giggled. Steve hadn’t ever heard him giggle before and it made him feel like a shaken up can of soda. Quickly he ducked in and kissed him again, and again, desperate to release the pressure and hoping to coax more of that laugh from Eddie.

They kissed and laughed and held each other in the treehouse until they lost track of time, until their lips were redder than their faces and their stubble had rubbed a few spots just a little raw. When they finally came up for air, the sun was lower in the sky, painting the forest outside the open door in golden hour hues.

“I guess there’s more than peace between our kingdoms,” Eddie said, and Steve snorted into his shoulder.

“Good thing I trusted you, then.”

Eddie wound his arms around Steve and held him close enough that Steve could hear his heartbeat through the soft fabric of his old band tee. In the midst of their kissing he’d ended up sprawled between Eddie’s knees, and they’d both sunk down onto the cramped, dusty floor.

“Real good thing, Stevie.”

Tag List Lovelies: @steves-strapcollection @scarcrossdlvrs @inairbinad

[myfavcharacterdidntdrown]

Another silly microfic I wrote cuz I’m boreddddd

“Ugh.” said Evan disgusted as he glared at Remus Lupin and Sirius Black making out in the middle of the hallway. “They’re so disgusting,” said Barty rolling his eyes.

“GET A BLOODY ROOM!” Evan yelled as they walked past them.

“You know they can’t do it in their dorm room right? And that means that they can’t get a room.”

“Huh? Why?” asked Evan turning his head to look at Barty questioningly.

“Potter is busy in their dorm shagging someone and he would actually be dead if Sirius found out.”

“How do you know that he’s shagging someone in their dorm room?”

“I don’t see Reg here.” he said shrugging. “What about you? Do you see him?”

Evan shook his head. “No…”

“Wait. Don’t change the subject.” Evan said fiercely.

“I’m not. I swear.” He threw his hands in the air like someone was holding a gun to his head.

“Oh you totally are, you piece of shit.”

“No…”

“Okay, then tell me how Potter shagging someone in his dorm and Reg not being here are con-“ He saw Evan’s face going completely white like Dumbledore’s beard. He wanted to take a mental picture of his expression. It was hilarious. “Oh…” he said as the realisation hit him.

“Yeah…”

“Why didn’t he tell me?”

“I don’t know man, he actually didn’t tell me either. I walked in on them-“

“Okay. Ew, no details please.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

“Whatever.”

They walked through the halls in silence. Until Barty suggested something.

“Do you want to listen to them?”

“Are you fucking crazy?” Evan snapped at him.

“Oh come on, it will be fun, I promise.”

Evan rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

Barty smirked. They made their way to the Gryffindor entrance and snuck in as the entrance was still open, after some Gryffindor students just entered.

They made their way to Potter’s dorm room. Evan put his ear on the door, trying to hear them. Barty did the same.

“Do you hear it?” Evan whispered.

“Hear what?” He whisper yelled.

“The noise of the bed shaking.”

Barty listened more carefully now and holy shit! He could hear the fucking bed shaking. Evan chuckled as they continued to listen.

“What in the name of Merlin are you two doing here?” Pandora suddenly appeared out of nowhere. They both jumped, surprised and shocked.

“Wh- what? Nothing.” said Evan.

“What are you doing here?” Barty hissed at her.

“I gave the notes I took at herbology to Lily because she couldn’t make it to class today. You still didn’t answer my question.” She raised an eyebrow at them as she crossed her arms.

“Well what do you want us to say? ‘We’re listening to our best friend getting shagged by stupid strut king Pottah’.”

Pandora looked at them in suspicion. Then her gaze softened and she smiled.

“Well, make some room for me then. I’m not missing this. Our best friend getting shagged by the Gryffindor quidditch captain. Hah. Who would’ve thought.”

She put her ear on the door to listen too. They listened for a few minutes till they heard someone moan something in French.

“That’s hot.” said Pandora.

“Pervert.”

“That’s your best friend, Pandora.” said Evan.

“I’m just checking on my best friend because I am concerned. He might get hurt. You never know” she said with a puppy face.

“Oh fuck off.” Evan chuckled.

The three of them lost balance as the door they were leaning on suddenly opened.

“Oh shit,” said Evan, almost falling.

Barty and Pandora couldn’t save themselves and fell on the floor, right on their stomachs. “Ouch,” he muttered. Barty looked up to see Regulus glaring at them.

“Seriously?” he asked them.

“Uhmm-“

“You know it’s not what you think, we were just checking on you.”

“Yeah since you’re on your period, I thought you’d like some cookies.” said Pandora as she stood up and lifted the snack she had in her hands suggestively.

“He’s on his period?!” Evan and Barty asked at the same time, looking at each other with an amused expression.

“Yeah…”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Dude I bet the bed is a fucking mess right now.”

“Like a crimson river or something. The poor bed.” Evan said as he laughed.

“The crimson night sky, a painting made by Regulus Arcturus Black.” Barty said laughing his ass off.

Regulus looked so pissed.

“We will talk about this later.” He said angrily as he walked off. The three of them continued laughing. James looked rather confused. He wasn’t really used to their weird shit yet. But he also looked kinda flustered because they all knew what they’ve been doing in the room.

Barty knew Regulus would be mad at them when they returned to their dorm but now he was just enjoying the funny moment with his friends. Yes it was kind of offensive and mean but hilarious at the same time. And yes he will apologise to Reg but take every chance he gets to rub it in his face.

[totallynotokguys]

Lego Monkie Kid Rewatch: Special

Embrace Your Destiny 4/5

Last Time: Tang yelled at a homeless dude, MK had enough of Macaque's BS, all villains could have been really stand up people if not for the wanton and murderous tentencies, and Macaque proudly came out of the closet (er- shadow) as a drama queen.

And now- ON WITH THE SHOW!!!

Only the best and the brightest for this rescue mission, am I right!

“Dragon Girl!”

YEs yes yesy eys yes yes yes yes! Go free her so you can burn your enemies into ash together!!!

They’re dead…. Definitely dead. 

Oh Huntsmen. I still grieve you.

I know what it looks like. Was Wukong really about to hit MK? My answer is no. He was not, because his fist wasn’t even aimed at MK.

‘But look!’ you say, ‘Look how close it got. How could he have not been aiming for MK! The film clearly shows his fist right up in MK’s face.’

‘Ha-ha!’ I say, ‘You have fallen right into the animator's perspective trap! A trap which I, of course, did not fall for the first time I watched this. Perish the thought, I tell you.’

First, really look at this shot.

MK does not move his head. Macaque does not push MK out of the way. Yet somehow his whole arm is able to get between MK and the fist. Not even in between! Their hands are overlapping with MK’s face, suggesting that this is happening next to the kid, not in front of him.

And further proof, look at this next scene.

Macaque caught the fist with the hand that would have been furthest from MK. Meaning he had to fit his whole body between MK and Wukong without pushing either of them back.

I’ve made a very rough and poorly done representation of a bird's eye view of the fight scene so you can see what I mean by perspective.

Look, this is what the animators want you to think is happening.

And this is what Macaque would have had to do to his arm to stop the fist from hitting MK’s face.

Broken elbow anybody?

But, if we shift Wukong over just a bit, we get a much more plausible set of action sequences.

And this is why I think Wukong was aiming for Macaque the whole time. Lady Bone Demon can make Wukong walk menacingly toward MK, she can make him throw a punch in MK’s general direction, but she cannot actually force Wukong to hurt MK.

Now Macaque on the other hand. Wukong seems totally fine with diverting her violent tendencies toward the shadow monkey. 

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again.

Macaque looks his most fierce when he is most afraid. 

Why is he moving so slow?

Seriously! I know you can’t tell through just pictures, but rewatch this scene and you’ll see. Wukong just got done having a shapeshifting battle against Macaque where they were moving so fast they were having a freaking light battle.

But then Lady Bone Demon directs Wukong to attack MK and the guy is moving like an elephant doped up on anesthetics. Heavy, clanking steps. Slow, painfully so. It would seem deliberate, another scare tactic by Lady Bone Demon, except for the literal cracks in her facade of power.

Trying to force Wukong to attack MK is breaking her.

There’s that misleading perspective again. Which I love.

Just look at that confidence. This kid keeping his back to the most destructive force the world has ever known, believing with all of his heart that his lǎoshī would never hurt him.

And isn’t that tragic in a way. MK will believe in others so easily and completely, but can hardly believe in himself.

Oh how I love you, animators and writers of this show.

Wait! WAit wait wait!

She was still in him?! He was still possessed?! I thought the moment his eyes became gold and he was able to talk again that she had lost her foothold with him. 

But… if we see this ghostly projection being thrown out of him after he pulls the staff, that means she was still possessing him. So was he just ignoring her? Brute force stubbornly pretending not to hear the voice inside his head?

Wukong, you beast.

Macaque: I’m not a hero.

Also Macaque:

What's funnier to me is that he only just stood up after getting tossed around like a ragdoll by Wukong. Only in it for yourself my hair follicles. This is why I say don’t trust what he says about people and their motivations. His perspective on people is so faulty he doesn’t even read himself correctly.

I forgot about the big robot battle.

Wukong keeps Pigsy and the others from trying to stop MK when he steps forward to face LBD. 

Why? Certainly not because he knew what the kid was doing. Just look at the surprise on his face when MK holds back two mountain sized flaming swords of samadhi fire with just his Monkey Mech.

No, Wukong trusts MK. He believes in MK just as strongly as MK believed in him.

Man, I really wish I had remembered all of this. It would have made season 5 make so much more sense. 

It is so important when watching season 5 to remember that the team had knowledge and previous experience using their magic/soul to boost MK and amplify his power. It makes a certain scene in the future seem less cheesy to me, less ‘we pulled this out of nowhere with no build up or explanation’ and more ‘see how this previous battle skill is now going to become so crucial to solving the big problem we built up this season.’

“As long as I have my friends by my side, this world is perfect!”

Ah, thank you MK for spelling out exactly what you need to lose in order to want to change the world. I’m sure those words won’t haunt you later.

“Don’t use the flame, Mei-”

“-Be the Flame.”

I love that Red Son keeps talking to her, encouraging her in his own special way. Reminding her who is truly the one with the power.

But it is Mei who says the final line, not him.

Be the flame.

That guy. 

Can I be that guy? No, he’s too cool, I could never. Can I be friends with him at least? I want to be his friend.

Dragon Mech Magic Battle! Dragon Mech Magic Battle! Dragon Mech Magic Battle!

“I try not to think too hard.”

“So it would seem.”

On paper, this sounds sarcastic. Another dig at MK’s silly naive stupidity.

But the voice acting makes it clear, she’s not dismissing MK. She’s catching onto him.

What do you MEAN I can't fit anymore PICTURES onto this post!!!!! WHY DOES TUMBLRY LIMIT ME SO?!!!! ITS NOT FAIR!!!

Ugh... guess I have to make another post. Man, and I was so close this time.

[anon-402]

Maxo’s End of Stream Key Points.

Where he talks about his character, what it means to be dead in the QSMP, and what could probably happen in the future!

The only thing the federation couldn’t control was me; how I die.

Chat: “You can return to QSMP as a ghost!” Yeah, I’m gonna think about it…

I feel a bit upset because I wanted to reach the ship and say my goodbyes to everyone. I wouldn’t get on the boat tho.

Chat: “Cellbit, Mouse and BBH didn’t make it either.” The only thing I know is I’m dead, and that’s what I want for my lore.

I don’t have anything scripted (for the future). I’m gonna miss QSMP, but because I take rp too seriously, there’s no turning back. Yeah, I can maybe go back as a ghost and haunt people, but not as Cubito Maxo.

The rest may survive because they want to keep playing QSMP, but I say my character is dead and he’s dead because he died in an explosion. If dying means not being able to return to QSMP, it’s fine.

Going out without saying goodbye is what makes me mostly upset. (Reads chat) Do a tape? As if I did it a long time ago? I didn’t thought about that. That’s a good idea. I’m gonna ask the Admins.

I would’ve liked to do the tapes these last days, but I wasn’t thinking of committing suicide before. I didn’t know what was going to happen. (The only thing I knew) was that my character was desperate.

Dono: It would be cool if you could return as an old island survivor who helps the others to- That’s something I don’t get to decide, this is not my series. I can offer it, but that doesn’t mean it fits. I can’t go and say ‘I’m gonna return as a survivor’ because it doesn’t mean it can fit (in the story).

For the Federation to take the bomb away from me and me dying is a way to show how powerful it can be. This kind of thing is necessary in roleplay.

There’s people who liked Purgatory, but I don’t like when I have to gain points. My thing is roleplay. Purgatory was full hardcore, and it’s tiring for me to farm points. When Aypierre killed me for rp reasons, I was like, ‘look what you’ve done all because of some points’ (I think he’s referring to the other players having a discussion because of his dead)

If my character had to kill BBH… (groans) I can’t, he’s my friend. I can’t switch my mind because of some points. It didn’t fit me or my character and that’s why I didn’t log in. I was going to get frustrated eventually.

If I went through the island saying ‘don’t kill, don’t kill’, they’re going to say ‘look at this hippie mf smoking weed’.

(Reads chat) What do you mean Purgatory 2? I can’t believe it. At least we are dead (laughs). I prefer the other island.

There’s something lore related that I’m really happy about; Quackity accepting he works for the Federation. I mean– everyone suspected it, but there was people still denying it.

(While laughing) Dude, I took the detonator out and no one listened. I mean, yes, there was people roleplaying and asking me what was it. But it was bad timing, there’re too many interactions. Improvising is hard because not everything is perfectly done as in your head. But I was trying to tell them that I had a bomb, but it the end they stole my bomb’s wi-fi.

Tbh, I was already tired of Minecraft. I played almost every day in the QSMP, I needed a rest. In a way, it’s sorta like vacations, only that I can’t return as Maxo Cubito. I will have to return as Maxo Ritual Challenge or Maxo Mutation Zombie. I think I would have a better time with that kinda role.

(Reading chat saying he was evil) I don’t think I made an Evil Maxo rp, because I never wanted to detonate the bomb. What I wanted to do was to negotiate and get everyone out of the island because I love them. I wanted to scape and then detonate it behind us, y’know?

I find interesting the ending, I liked it.

I will make some tapes, so they realize I’m dead and wanted to say goodbye to them.

There’s people happy about my dead because they don’t like QSMP, but honestly, QSMP is really entertaining, it’s really fun, and behind it there’s really cool people. Every time I logged on I was always laughing. Things didn’t go my way, it was catastrophic, but as a roleplayer, I have to accept what is put in front of me.

The night is young. Even though there are tribulations like my dead, we have to overcome things, move forward and enjoy life. Who knows when I’ll play Minecraft again. Maybe tomorrow, maybe never- no, no never (tries to not laugh). No never. Maybe within a year. Maybe in two. But one day I will return.  

(Quick reminder English is not my first language. Sorry for any typos or whatnots)

[bonefall]

I’m not sure if you talked about it, but what do you think about A Thief in Thunderclan? I actually liked it, though it definitely had a few ehhh moments

Eh, honestly? Im kinda disappointed that James Barry had to go out on such a low note. I did not like it, it felt like a waste of time.

It wasn't like... offensively bad but I have very little good to say about it. It was fine. If you want to see more ThunderClan you can check it out?

(A lot of Thief in ThunderClan critique below the cut, I didn't like it much)

First of all, the mystery was just bad. I'm sorry. An owl? Swooping in at night for dead animals and leaving perfect scores in the dirt? It felt like a real "running out of ideas" type plot.

Brightheart was NOT fun to follow. She was uncomfortable for most of the story and secondhand embarassment is an emotion I really don't enjoy. Even moments that were supposed to be thought-provoking (like the Brambleclaw name confrontation) just felt like cringe because they were written so poorly.

Like, seriously? "Firestar why did you name Bramble after his father who disfigured me?" "Oh its because i uhhhh wanted to remind ppl of it so they would stop being reminded of it eventually" WHAT? That was a brainless enough choice when it was FIRST made, you can't fucking tell me any cat with a brain cell would go "wao... really makes you think... hngsociety"

I disliked the fact they decided to give Brightheart serious suspicion towards people like Longtail and Brambleclaw, I strongly disagree she would be like that. She feels so much to me like someone who would feel awful for doubting people she logically knows are innocent, and express to Cloudtail that it makes her feel like a bad person, but she CANT help it. She is such a kind, loving, and self doubting sort of cat... or, was, I guess? Or maybe it was never there at all and I'm the fool.

On that note? Her character arc was a mess. As much as I hate Shadow in RiverClan, I can say that Feathertail's arc was a competent *story*. Brightheart is having nightmares, suspects Bramble and Long of treason, is trying to figure out this mystery, trying to help train Rainpaw, the fact she resents not being his mentor is mentioned and dropped, she is pregnant... so much shit is going on and it feels absolutely unfocused.

And even worse, because it's overlapping with the beginning of Firestar's Quest, we end up having to Show Off The Continuity instead of telling a cohesive story. Oop Willowpelt died and Rainpaw is kind of sad about it! But wait we have to say bye to Firestar, make sure to squeeze in the Brambleclaw name confrontation before he goes! GO BACK Longtail has been blinded!! ALSO THE OWL! HERES WHY THE OWL WASNT MENTIONED IN FQ!!

And DUDE if there's anything that's a SERIOUS problem, it's Brightheart's stupid ass cutesy "look who's being USEFUL in here!" When blinded Longtail is helping out in the medcat den

First of all fuck you for the wording of that line! Second of all, GET IT THROUGH YOUR HEAD that disabled people shouldn't have to find a way to be "useful" to belong to their society.

The fact we're getting a book from Bright's perspective as a disabled person and the whole thing is chock full of "useful" language as she struggles with PTSD makes the fact this is COMMON in WC sting so much more.

Anyway back to just, normal critique and not frustration with ableism in wc.

I feel like they really wasted Brightheart's family. I enjoyed finally getting Cinder and Bright hanging out as sisters, but we got a MENTION of Frostfur, and barely anything with her brothers. It's already a mess so why not go the whole way?

Ashfur also has his post-TBC personality retcon which absolutely kills me. Why do we need this shitty "foreshadowing"? Why do we need him to have been so obviously controlling and argumentative? Why are these writers fucking allergic to having a villain that people thought was nice and normal once?

NITPICK: if i have to see another cat gently picked up by a large bird of prey without at LEAST getting a cracked rib I will shapeshift into 10,000 crows and fly away forever

I have some good feelings towards it though, and I have to be clear, this is actually Ambivalent Bones. I'm only mad at the "Usefulness" rhetoric, the rest is just my normal amount of whinging lmao.

I do really like Cinderpelt and Brightheart finally getting some interactions. It's long overdo lmao

I like Cloudtail and Brightheart as a ship so it's nice to see them hang out.

Uhhh this is a bit of a backhanded compliment but I liked how she was upset at not getting one of Whitestorm's children to mentor? I don't like how it bodes for the wider narrative though, because we know this ends in her getting shafted FOR YEARS and unable to get an apprentice. But I liked the plot setup of her having resentment for Cloudtail because of this. I thought that would make a really good plot point for putting a wedge between them to work through. Like, stop being cowards, LEAN INTO Firestar making some very serious, insulting, short-sighted mistakes, and it interfering with Brightheart's ability to heal. Kill your darling.

There were some nice lines. I do remember Ashfur's lame "greedyclaw" insult, which was funny.

I enjoyed the cute moments between the cats in ThunderClan. Ferncloud chasing after her kids, Brightheart convincing people to help her investigate, the Willowkin being upset about their mom. It's a mess but there's some nice stuff in that mess, y'know?

Overall, my memory hasn't been kind to it. I think I was giving it a 6/10 when I first saw it, but it's dropped down to a low 5/10. Not (very) offensive but too messy and pointless to revisit.

[ghulehthezombiequeen]

little sunshine. - i wanna dance with somebody (who loves me)

cardinal copia x sister of sin! reader part 6.

masterlist. / little sunshine masterlist.

taglist: @gothicwonderlust, @jaymechaos, @siouxbauhaus, @millerthats

a/n: dude... idk why this took me so long to write but i really really hope you enjoy it! this is the longest chapter i've ever written (i think) as well! also we're not gonna talk about the theme being winter when valentine's day is literally next week,,,,,, i swear i started this in january ok

warnings/things to note: female reader, pet names, autistic Copia (perhaps), established relationship, this is basically the 'prom' episode of the series ykwim

enjoy <3

word count: 3,012 words.

The weeks preparing had flown by, the decorations slowly but surely popping up around the halls of the Ministry. You were walking to pick up your dress from the dry cleaner’s. It wasn’t new (you’d found it hanging in your closet left by the previous Sister who’d moved away), but it fit you perfectly, as if the previous owner had left it for you on purpose. The dress itself was drop-dead gorgeous— a wine red with some black lace trim on the Halter-strap bodice, and the Grucifix logo embroidered on the left side of the hip, the skirt flowing downwards in a trumpet style. 

As you carried it to your room, your friend Sister Lucie was walking along with you, chatting about some sort of ghoul drama. 

“Allegedly he tried to bury them in the garden, but one of them escaped the hole and lit half of the plants on fire!” She tittered, holding her royal blue dress delicately. 

You couldn’t help but giggle as well. “That seems so silly. Do you know whose ghoul that was?” “Oh, uh… I think it was your boyfriend’s.” 

That made you stop in your tracks, your heart dropping to your stomach. “Boyfriend? What are you talking about?”  Lucie stopped as well. “Well, yeah… you and that Cardinal dude, the one with the rats? You guys fucked, didn’t you?” 

You coughed, your face heating up. “Just because I spent the night in his room doesn’t mean we fucked!”  Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “Oh… sorry. But you guys are an item though, right? Sister Audrey caught y’all making out in the kitchen a few weeks ago.” 

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, “It’s fine. And yes, we did. But we’re not… official yet, I don’t think. I mean, I’d like to be, but he’s, y’know, pretty shy about all this, so..”  She nodded in understanding. “I get it. But really?? Copia, of all the Cardinals?? I don’t mean to be rude, but girl— you can do better than him!”  You shook your head and smiled. “I know, but I really like him!” 

Finally, you reach your room, where Sister Leah was already starting to get ready, her hair in silk curlers which she’d left in overnight. “Who’s your date, hm?” You teased as you hung up your dress, sitting on your side at the shared vanity space.  

“I’m going by myself, you know me. I like being single, thank you very much.” Leah replied, rolling her eyes as she slid into her dress— a black-and-gold fitted dress, with off the shoulder sleeves. 

You checked her out and smiled. “You’re gorgeous, girlie! What are you going to do with your hair though?”  She took out her curlers and lightly combed her raven-colored hair, matching perfectly with her tan skin. “No idea. Maybe just this or have Melissa braid it for me when I’m there so it won’t get in the way when I dance. Oh, I forgot to ask! You’re coming down with us, right?” 

“No, no this time.” You shook your head and smiled. “I’m going with Copia!” 

Her eyes widened in disbelief. “Seriously?! You were for real about that?! Is he, like, holding you at gunpoint or something?! Did his rats bite you and you’re contracting rabies?!”  You laughed. “No! I just… I like him a lot. He’s actually really sweet and considerate. He’s very old-fashioned, you know? Not because he’s old, but— you know what I mean, right?” 

She made a face, sitting next to you as she started to apply her makeup. “Whatever you say.” 

Around 7pm, you were ready to go. Leah and a few of your friends were making TikTok’s about their outfits and hairstyles. You wore dark red-to-black eyeshadow, fiercely sharp cat-eye black eyeliner, and of course, deep red lipstick to match your dress. You’d also put your hair half up half down, lightly curled and adorned with golden rose charms. Your friends were all gorgeous, but your beauty was unmatched.

“Ugh, all my friends are hot!!” Sister Calista whined as she looked at the photos on her phone.

You and Copia had been texting back and forth as well, sending snippets of each other’s outfits. The one that made you audibly snort was when he tried taking a mirror selfie, but he was holding Biscotti in one hand and on the verge of dropping him as Biscotti seemed more interested in chewing the phone case than posing for the photo. 

You made it your lock screen because it was just so adorable. 

Five or so minutes later, you heard a knock on the door, causing everyone’s heads to turn. You stood up in your black platform Mary Janes, making you maybe two or three inches taller than usual, and opened the door to see a nervous Copia standing in front of you with a bouquet of roses. His suit was similar to his Cardinal’s robes, probably a standard uniform for formal events, you figured. Only this time he was wearing a tie with the Grucifix logo printed on it as a design. 

Upon seeing your beauty, of course his face would immediately flush almost as red as your dress. “Eh…. You look… Wow. I-I mean—! Ugh, why is this so difficult…” he mumbled, turning his head and holding out the bouquet for you. “These- these are- they’re for you. You like roses, yes? Please say yes…” 

You were so touched by the romantic gesture, taking them delicately and cooing. “You’re so sweet, thank you! Give me one minute, I’ll put these by my bed.” 

“Oh, okay. Good. Yeah, go— go do that. Mhm.” He nodded awkwardly, giving you a lopsided smile as you closed the door briefly, showing off the flowers to your girlfriends, who also collectively ‘aww’ed. 

“I’ll see you guys there!” You called as you opened the door again, stepping out and holding your black clutch bag. “Aww, you got all dressed up for me.” You purred, smirking mischievously as he stood staring at you like a dumb fool. 

“Eh? Oh! Y-Yes, hello!” He cleared his throat and fixed his tie before offering his arm out. “I-I can take your bag? Or you can keep it, that’s- that’s fine too.” 

You handed your clutch to him with a small titter, lacing your arm into his as well. “I-I’m so glad we can do this… you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, amore mio…” he mumbled timidly. 

“And you are the most handsome, sweetheart.” You smiled and he flushed even redder, this man was pathetic. But you loved him either way.

The formal was being held in the main chapel of the Ministry, all the pews cleared off to the sides and replaced with round tables and chairs. There was an opening in the middle, presumably the dance floor. To the left, a photobooth where a group of Siblings were bombarding the poor photographer. To the right was the dessert and beverage bar, ranging in many different cuisines to fit everyone’s dieting habits. Everything was decorated with icicles and snowflakes, little ice skates placed intricately around the room and miniature light-up snow globes as centerpieces. Copia let out a low whistle as he checked out the area. “Wow… very fancy-shmancy, ain’t it?” 

You nodded with a soft chuckle. “Yeah, they really went all out this year. Wonder why?” 

He shrugged. “Did you, um… want to take a photo when it’s not busy? O-Or we don’t have to! I… I don’t know. I just wanted a nice photo of you for my wallet. N-Not in the stalker way, though! Like, eh… W-We’re together now, right? S-So– I-I mean!–”  

He buried his face in his hands again, and you pried them away gently with a soft smile playing at your lips. “You’re so silly. Never change, Copia. Never change.” 

He gulped and nodded, unable to look you in the eye as his cheeks continued to burn red. “You’re too good to me. I-I don’t deserve you… I’m so pathetic.” 

“Hey, hey.” You took the sides of his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze. “Don’t talk like that. You are just as deserving of love as anyone else in this room, okay? Now, we’re here to have fun and celebrate the new year, yeah?” 

He nodded, an apologetic smile on his face, leaning to yours and lightly pecking your nose. “Thank you, amore.”

You hummed in contentment, releasing his face but not before you returned the gesture, your lipstick transferring onto his nose but neither of you noticed. As you sat at your assigned table together, chatting about some of your interests (he was heavily invested in some retro game called ‘Driving Miss Daisy,’ which you’d never heard of before), a ghoul approached you both and got you two as it was your turn for the photo booth. 

“Ahm.. good. Good-good, let’s go, yes?” he smiled crookedly, offering his arm yet again.

You walked arm in arm and stood in front of a periwinkle backdrop decorated with sparkly blue and white streamers, along with snowflake cutouts and a few blue and silver balloons. The ghoul told you both that you could take up to four photos, and pointed to the table nearby where there were cutout props and cheap boas in different colors. You took a white one and wrapped it around Copia’s neck, drawing him in closer until your bodies were flushed together. You smiled and looked at the camera, where the ghoul was ready to take the first photo. Copia on the other hand was mumbling a multitude of unintelligible words in Itanglese as the ghoul snapped the photo, the flash stinging your eyes a bit. “Aw, c’mon, baby! Smile!” you giggled and tossed the boa back to the table, now switching your pose to the classic prom pose, only your arms were around his waist, his back pressed against your chest as you hugged him closer. 

“Eh… Amore, this– this is the wrong way,” he mumbled. “I’m supposed to be holding the girl, n-not– um..” 

“But you’re the babygirl in this relationship,” you teased as you propped your chin on his shoulder, your cheeks grazing each other’s. He squeaked and whimpered a weak reply, his voice unable to be comprehensible. 

The ghoul took another photo, cooing softly at the sight of you two being so affectionate. 

You took two more photos, one of him with your lips hovering over your cheek and you copying him in the other. However, you actually kissed his cheek, and this time you did notice that your dark lipstick had left an imprint on his pale complexion. You chuckled but didn’t say anything, taking his hand and waiting for the ghoul to put the photos in a collage and print out two copies. 

Copia kept glancing around nervously, as if he was ashamed to be seen with you in fear of others thinking you took him to this event out of pity. 

You lightly squeezed his hand, causing his head to snap back at you. He gulped as he saw your warning expression, causing him to nod and take a deep breath.

The ghoul chirped to get both of your attention, holding out the photo strips for you to take. You thanked the ghoul and gave him a few appreciative scritches to his chin, causing him to trill and clap his hands in joy. 

You handed him his copy as he led you back to the table, noticing a few Siblings giving him playful smiles as he still hadn’t noticed the kiss mark you left on him. However, he turned to you as you both sat down, looking at you timidly. “Do I… have something on my face?” 

“Oh, only a little gift I left you from earlier,” you hummed and opened your clutch, handing him your compact mirror so he could see. His eyes widened as he saw the outline of your lips on his left cheek. 

“S-Sorella! Amore mio, perché non me l'hai detto prima? I-I-I look like un idiota!” he sputtered out quickly, taking his glove off and rapidly swiping at it to get it off. His face was almost as scarlet as your dress from how embarrassed he was. 

You couldn’t help but laugh, taking out a makeup remover wipe and helping him. 

“Ugh, you torture an old man,” he groaned. 

“Oh, honey, it’s not that bad.” 

“It is! Now I look even more pathetic…” 

You were about to say something sarcastic in return, but more Siblings and their dates had arrived at your table and kept grabbing your attention. However you kept your hand securely fitted with Copia’s under the table, trying your best to include him in the conversation but it seemed like the Siblings were too scared to confront him due to his rank. 

As more people filed in, Copia’s hand gripped your own hand tighter. He was anxious, he had never been good with big crowds of people that he knew. Sure, he could sing nonstop for two hours for thousands of people, but these were people he saw on a day-to-day basis. 

You held up his hand and pressed a kiss to the back, running your thumb on the side soothingly in hopes to calm him down, which evidently worked; he took in a deep breath and smiled weakly. 

“I-I’ll go get some drinks. Did you want anything, water, soda?” he offered, he was so polite. 

You opted for water, smiling and watching him as he wandered to the beverage bar. The Siblings sitting at the table with you took this opportunity to talk to you alone. 

“Girl, why?” Brother Nathan asked. 

“What do you mean ‘why?’” 

“Because he’s– eugh!” Brother Theo made a sour face, holding onto Nathan’s hand tightly. “He’s a Cardinal, much higher ranking than you! Is he your sugar daddy or something? Because honey, we can call someone to raise your paycheck at the library–” 

“Stop, ew! He’s not doing anything like that!” You scoffed. “I actually really enjoy his company. He’s just shy, if you would just give him a chance to warm up to you, and maybe even warm up to him in return, you'll know he’s very sweet and considerate!” 

“Right… and this is the guy that has like… fifteen rats?” Sibling Everest grimaced. 

“Oh, stop it, E.” Sister Nicole huffed. “Don’t say that like we don’t have a pet snake in our room.” 

“But it’s only one of Nugget! There’s multiple rats!” They defended themself. 

“Guys, maybe we should chill. I don’t think he’d appreciate us talking smack about him behind his back like this. We’re supposed to be having fun, remember?” Theo spoke up before the argument got heated. 

Everest sighed. “Whatever.” 

Copia returned not a minute later, holding five drinks in both hands. “Eh… I got you all some, uh.. Some water. Here,” he passed them along the table, now noticing some tension in the air from the previous conversation. 

“Ah… it’s about my rats, isn’t it?” he chuckled sheepishly. “They are perfectly healthy, no- no bad germs, I can assure. And they mostly stay in my room, don’t worry.” 

You chuckled as he attempted to socialize, holding his hand gently in reassurance. The rest of the Siblings nodded and tried to be more friendly, though every time they spoke to him, they gave you all skeptical looks. 

After everyone had filled their stomachs with food and drinks, Sister Imperator made a few announcements congratulating the upper ranks on a very successful turnout of new Siblings and churchgoers, along with a few achievements from the newly summoned ghouls. She made it pretty short as Papa Nihil needed some medical attention and was wheeled out of the room on oxygen, clutching his saxophone and grumbled in a rusty voice, “I can still play, Seestor! Let me play just once!” 

Soon after, I Wanna Dance With Somebody by Whitney Houston started playing, courtesy of the ghoul manning the DJ booth. Siblings just sat awkwardly, unsure if they could dance on the floor or not. You took this opportunity to grab Copia’s hands and yank him out of the chair, pulling him to the dance floor. “C’mon, baby! Let’s go make this official!” 

“A-A-Amore, I cannot dance!” he whimpered shakily as you took him to the middle of the dance floor, suddenly twirling him around and making him do the same to you, causing you to giggle. “Yes, you can dance! I’ve seen you on stage before!” “Well, y-yes, but not like this!!” he gasped as you dipped him, pecking him on the lips once more, the watchful eyes of the Siblings widening and a few gasping in shock and amusement. Not a moment later, more Siblings were slowly crawling to the dance floor, singing along and dancing with their friends or partners. 

“I-I don’t know the dance to this song, amore!” Copia mumbled, letting you take the lead as you sang the lyrics to him, laughing. “There’s not supposed to be a certain dance, hon! Just feel the music!” 

As the song continued, Copia began to feel more confident, finally twirling you around a few times and dipping you in return. “Is it like this, eh… baby?” 

“Mhm,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck as he brought you upright again. You both took a breather to gaze into one another’s eyes, a faint blush on both of your faces. Copia gulped before impulsively leaning in and pressing his lips to yours, holding the kiss for several seconds. You could feel his hands starting to coil around your waist as you both ignored the collective oohing from your peers, and just as he pulled away you followed him, kissing back. This wasn’t a kiss of lust, nor of desire. This felt natural, as if you two were meant to be together, in each other’s arms. It felt like true love. 

As you finally pulled away with a chuckle, you could swear you could hear Copia singing under his breath, “I wanna dance with somebody, with somebody who loves me…”

~~~

previous chapter. | ???

[jadeleechsupportgroup]

Rhapsody in Teal - 4

“Glad you’re feeling better,” Ace says through a mouthful of sandwich (so it comes out missing most of the sharper consonant sounds). “Deuce thought you were dead.”

“I did not!”

Ace laughs and then starts coughing. “Dude, you take everything so seriously.”

You manage to laugh a bit. “Thanks, people.”

Then Ace looks at something over your shoulder and goes a bit pale.

“Wh-” You turn around and find yourself face to face with Floyd. Rather, with the buttons on the front of Floyd’s shirt, because he is very tall and you are sitting down.

“Shrimpyyyy,” he whines. “I’m booored.”

Why this is your problem will forever remain a mystery. “Okay?”

“Let’s go find Jade!”

It’s your turn to go pale. “I’m kinda busy-”

“Nahh, you’ve been nursing the same bite of spaghetti for twenty minutes. You’re fine.” He smiles gleefully and then, without warning, wraps an arm around your torso and hoists you out of your seat.

“What th- put me down!” You scramble to tug your shirt down. It wasn’t tucked in quite as well as you thought.

There’s no reasoning with him, so you throw a frantic look at Ace and Deuce.

“Nice knowing you,” says Ace with a wave goodbye. “Fs in the chat, sad reaccs only.”

You vow revenge if you survive whatever Floyd is going to do next.

Fortunately, when he skips joyfully into his dorm’s lounge and drops you unceremoniously on one of the leather sofas so that your head collides with Jade’s kneecap, Jade is just as shocked as you.

Several questions fight for dominance on his face. He finally settles on, “Why are you like this?”

“Welkies.” Floyd continues his skipping down the hallway, where you expect a panicked shriek to follow at any moment.

Jade sighs as you sit up and sort yourself out. You get your hair under control, but as you’re straightening out your vest, you realize the top button has disappeared. It must have been ripped off when Floyd picked you up.

“I apologize for his actions,” Jade says in the weary tone of one who has said these words for years.

No matter how much you try to adjust your vest, the missing button causes it to sit just wrong enough to make it extremely obvious what you’re trying to hide. Even buttoning your coat over it doesn’t really help enough. “Shit…”

“I can fix it, if you like.” Jade turns slightly so his back faces the room, subtly hiding you from the view of anyone who might be looking.

You’re in no position to decline this offer, so you just nod. He hands you two large textbooks, which you hug to your chest as if they’re going to keep you breathing, and you follow him down the hallway. You worry that you’re going to run into Floyd again, but then you hear Azul snap at him from the housewarden’s wing, which is the other direction, and you feel a little better.

Meanwhile, it doesn’t escape your notice that any wayward Octavinelle students all but throw themselves out of Jade’s path. Several cast you looks of pity, and it dawns on you that it must look like you’re being hazed - carrying his books and following at his heels like a leashed puppy. You would expect this reaction to Floyd’s presence, certainly, but for some reason, you didn’t think they would be as afraid of Jade. You wonder if you should be afraid, too.

He unlocks the door to his room and leads you inside.

It’s clean and organized to a fault - even his shoes are neatly arranged at the foot of the bed. He takes the books from you and sets them on his desk, then opens a drawer and retrieves a small sewing kit.

You shed your blazer easily enough and place it in a crumpled heap on the table, but for some reason when it comes to unbuttoning your vest, you find yourself incredibly embarrassed. You turn away from him shyly as you struggle with it. You feel like you might as well be wearing a tube top and a push-up bra instead of your oversized, long sleeved uniform shirt.

Jade takes the vest from you without a word and lays it on the desk, arranging it so he can get to work. You cross your arms over your chest out of habit - a habit you’ve tried to break to avoid drawing attention to yourself - but after a minute, you’re too curious to see what he’s doing.

“Do you like to sew?” you ask.

“Mm. It is less a hobby and more a necessary skill, I’ve found,” he says a little distantly. “My clothing has suffered no small amount of damage from being outdoors.”

“Oh, I guess that makes sense.” You don’t know if you like to sew.

“Would you like to try?” He looks at you expectantly.

Your hands slide down from your shoulders a few inches as some of the tension leaves you. “I guess,” you say.

“It is quite easy.” Jade stands, gesturing for you to take the only chair. You feel unsteady as you lower yourself into it. “I have already secured the thread and placed the anchor point.”

Sure enough, a small gold ‘x’ of thread marks the spot on the vest where the previous button used to live. He rifles through a small tray of buttons before selecting one, which he hands to you. It’s gold, like the others, but shaped like a snail shell, with two tiny holes drilled through it. You set it against the x and awkwardly try to push the needle through it from the back. It keeps running into the button at first, but you finally get it. You push it through the other side easily enough.

You start to pull the golden thread tight, but Jade stops you briefly. He selects another needle and tucks it beneath the button.

“A trick I learned from Azul’s mother,” he says with a soft, nostalgic smile that hovers quite near your shoulder. “It creates enough space for the layer of fabric to fit around it, otherwise it would not stay attached, or break off again very quickly.”

You nod and continue. Bit by bit, listening to Jade’s advice, you sew the same stitch over itself a dozen times, until you’re certain it’s never coming apart. And you only impale your finger with the needle three times.

Jade severs the thread with a tiny pair of scissors. And just like that, it’s done.

“All better.” He chuckles. “Easy enough, yes?”

“Yeah. I’m still glad I didn’t try to do it on my own, though.” You’re about to reach for the vest, but Jade holds it aloft for you. You turn away from him and slip your arms through the openings. His fingertips brush the tops of your clavicles as he aligns the seams on your shoulders, his touch delicate yet certain, even through the leather of his gloves.

He never took them off. So he intended to have you do it all along.

You fasten the buttons and turn around to show him, rubbing the back of your neck and looking away as embarrassment creeps over you again. “Looks good,” you mumble. “Thanks.”

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” Jade tilts his head curiously, one hand coiled beneath his chin.

Um, yes. “It’s not you- your fault, I mean. Um.” Your voice fades to nearly nothing. “I really…really like you.” You cringe and brace yourself for you don’t know what.

When you don’t hear any derisive laughter, though, you take a chance and look at him. His smile is captivating, drawn tighter on one side in a way equal parts delighted and devilish. You catch sight of a tiny dent on his bottom lip, and you realize it must be from the point of a tooth.

“How fortunate for me,” he says with a bubbly laugh. “As I find you quite charming, myself.”

It would be all too easy to overthink his response, so that is exactly what you do. With a side order of self-esteem issues, please.

“You sure it’s not ’cause I’m the only girl here?” Admitting your feelings already felt like ripping off a band-aid, so why stop there?

“Would it surprise you to learn that I have dated other students before?”

Actually, yeah, that’s a big surprise. Now you just feel judgmental. “Maybe.”

He shrugs. “Feelings are feelings.” And he seems content to leave it at that.

“Well, um. Yeah. That’s a good point.” You pull your blazer back on and clear your throat for no reason. “Do you still wanna go? To the dance, I mean?”

His smile evens itself out. “It would be my pleasure.”

1 | 2 | 3 | {4} | 5

[aromanticautiesworld]

I CAME BACK FOR MORE 😭

Finn and Fern x GN!Reader headcanons where the reader is a thief/robber and eventually they learn more about them and develop a crush on them (Could it be separate for each, same scenario but different brother if you get what im saying)

Finn could be like an enemies to lovers type of eal with finn thinking the reader is a little cute from the get go and feeling conflicted with hair feelings due to the reader's being a thief, eventually becoming friends and seeing different side of the reader (yk?? i feel like im yapping and not making sense 💀)

While for fern, the reader just feels bad for him because he can't do as well as being a hero and becomes friends with him, farm keeps it a secret from finn and they eventually become friends and see a different side (yappayapayappa) :)

Give em a cute hobby like a baking or crochet

SORRY IF THIS DOENST MAKE SENSE

AWH this feels like the plot of an ep of adventure time ……

////

finn + fern/thief gn reader hcs

FINN

at firstyou guys do not like each other at all (ofc)

he gets in your way all the time. he gets calls about you from people across Ooo complaining about their missing stuff

(even ice king )

Finn is a good hero though. so he ignores that you’re kinda pretty

(he thinks he might have a type of crush at this point (people who could probably kill him if they wanted to))

so one day (abt a month into your spree)

you decide to steal from Finn’s house (not knowing that it was the fucking Guy who’d been stopping you this whole time)

and you almost get away with it (stealing his hat. it was his hat you chose to steal). almost

“YOU!! YOU’RE the one that’s been stealing from all those peeps!!”

you run escape him (again) but he stops you in front of the door.

“Put it back.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Put it back.”

“Nuh uh.”

you reach an impasse.

now at YOUR end, you reeeeally dont want to admit it but this guy is a little cute (a little. you refuse to go further) with the hair he has happening.

you do eventually put it back, faced with the prospect of staying in here any longer. glob

against any of your better judgement, you decide to stay

and investigate this weird guy

and against his better judgement, he lets you stay

now you’re both at this weird little hangout

(with your enemy)

and you tell him about you

for one, you steal for the rush. and out of habit

and for two, you crochet (this is probably why you steal so much yarn)

Finn traces his finger in circles on the ground.

“d’you think you could teach me how to crochet?”

“Pshh. You’re telling me you believed all that?”

“You were lying?”

“Nono, that was the truth. im jus’ messing with you.”

“Ok…”

“Seriously!”

“Ok!”

you smile at him.

“y’wanna meet tomorrow?”

he brushes a piece of his hair out of his face. “yeah.”

as for general hcs, i think you would start stealing things just to meet up with him

like you would think in all your time thieving you would have at least one phone

but no

you don’t enter through the door either

you will just break in. sometimes in the dead of night

Finn would dedicate himself to learning how to crochet (I wonder why. it couldn’t possibly be to impress someone)

FERN

so you first meet fern when he decides to answer the banana guard’s call and oh boy

this guy

he is not doing well at Heroing

like imagine a baby kitten. now imagine it sad

And you realize, wait a minute

This thing might not be worth it

so you check in on this poor guy. in the middle of your getaway

“dude, are you okay?”

his leg was stuck in a crack in the ground

“don’t pity me!!”

“I’m not! Just let me help you—”

“Well I’m supposed to be a hero. I shouldn’t get help from thieves.”

(he’s more telling that to himself than to you.)

You help him out anyways, of course.

He brings out his sword to your neck, you sigh and roll your eyes.

“Fine..”

You give him back what you stole

The sword is still there

You dump out all of the other objects you stole out of your bag

The sword is still there

You sigh again, taking off your shoes and gloves and shaking out the other other objects you stole.

He begins to collect them into his own bag, before asking you,

“Did I do good?”

“What?”

“Was I a good hero?”

“Oh, um. Well, anyone else (because I am extremely brave and unafraid) would probably be squealing out of fear so, yeah.”

He crosses his arms, looking down to the side.

“I don’t want people to be afraid of me…”

You step back, observing him.

“Why d’you even want to be a hero so badly?”

“Because—because….because I’m supposed to be.”

Your expression softens.

“How about I be a bad influence on you, and you take a break from heroing for a bit?”

“How?”

“Y’ever learn how to crochet?”

[artzychic27]

So what is one thing that science kids dislike about the akuma class and heroes?

Mireille: Only one?

*Meanwhile, the Akuma Class is listening outside through the door

Denise: I don't know. I love Kitty Section’s angle, but, Rose’s singing just makes my ears bleed sometimes.

Rose: *Gasps*

Lacey: Oh, and then they’re always attracting Akumas, constantly. Me, I’m just like, “Hello! Can we get a break? Stop pissing people off!”

Nino: Way harsh, dude.

Marc: You know, I never cared much for those stupid Adrinette plans. *Marinette tears up* It’s like that ship is their cult, or something, it’s freaky.

Zoé: And let’s not forget that teacher of theirs’. She acts like they’re five years old with that, “hate conquers all” bullshit.

Ismael: And, you know, I never understood why they asked Marinette to make that banner for Kim and Alix’s race earlier in the year. Kinda tacky, right?

Cosette: Not to mention, those basic-ass gender neutral outfits. They just look like stereotypical French clothes.

Marc: Not very original.

Marinette: What?!

Jean: Did you hear something? Ah, never mind, it’s probably not important. Oh, and I really do think those guys will be tricked into joining a cult.

Reshma: Lila?

Jean: Who else, dear? Seriously, I get migraines just from hearing her talk. I truly do think they’ll jump off a cliff if Lila says it’ll give them magical powers.

Alix: Excuse me?!

Jean: But, Marinette’s not any better.

Mireille: Although, if I were to be locked in a room with one of them or a bear… I’ll take the bear.

Marinette: *Gasps*

Marc: “Lila’s being mean, poor me! My best friends don’t believe me! Everyone should believe me! It’s not fair! I’m perfect! Waah!”

Cosette: *Snickers* Marc! That is a dead-on Marinette impression!

Zoé: You really capture her whining.

Marc: No, Lila whines, Marinette throws a pity party.

Simon: Pathetic.

Science Kids: *Laughing*

Simon: Ah, what else? Uh… Can I just say I dislike them as a whole? Separately, they’re fine, minus Chloé and Marinette? But, together? It is just way too much.

Lacey: Oh, valid. When they’re all together in a group, you just know shit’s gonna hit the fan. I stay close to home in case there’s an Akuma. ‘Cause-

Jean/Lacey: They’re always causing Akumas!

Lacey: He gets it!

[showtoonzfan]

I hope people don't take this as acephobic but Alastor being ace doesn't even make much sense to me? He was a serial killer in his previous life and most male serial killers were driven by misogyny and sexual sadism (moreso the latter for the gay ones). Like even his interactions with Charlie seem like he's trying to seduce her for his next kill or something. Let's not even get into the optics of making your one ace character be a mass-murdering psycho that represents the worst of cishet misogyny, it's just a weird pairing. Also his backstory kinda ruins the mistake of this random demon that was killing all the big bosses for power, and killing for power isn't exactly the motivation of most serial killers either? If they didn't have the serial killer part him being ace would work better I think, why not give that to Husk that only seems to care about booze or Cherri who's in a seemingly platonic relationship with Angel? Seems she just slapped it onto a random character based on a joke interaction. I really hope people don't take this the wrong way.

Eh, wouldn’t say Alastor was seducing Charlie, more of he was playing it safe and acting like he had no tricks up his sleeve while literally openly mocking her, but as for him being Ace, to me personally while I don’t have an issue with the concept (like as long as the show knows this dude is evil and doesn’t insinuate that ace people are bad, it’s fine in my book cause I’m all here for representation regardless if it’s a bad character or not) but my personal issue was like…it just didn’t feel like it needed to be there. Like…the only reason he’s ace is because he was described to be “obsessed with himself” and that doesn’t automatically mean you need to make a character ace. It felt like it wasn’t something Viv had planned out and only slapped that title on him at the last minute because…..why not more representation points, despite the fact that….let’s not forget the pilot itself never outright said he was ace either, which I find more suspicious.

Also I always immediately disregard the “but serial killers”- argument for Al because let’s be honest, Viv not only doesn’t do research but doesn’t think deep when creating certain characters. The only time I felt his serial killer title didn’t make sense was how he is introduced as this unapologetic evil murderer who does everything for laughs, and then suddenly has this forced moral compass about respecting those lower than him, like seriously wtf was Vivzie thinking when writing that?

Overall however, in my eyes, she wanted an edgy scary demon lord, and him being a serial killer felt more like a quick excuse to find a reason why he’s in hell, basically what I’m saying is…..Al doesn’t have that many layers to him, hence why I don’t think too much about these things, but I DO agree that someone like Husk or Cherri being ace would make more sense or just…be better, mainly Husk since he clearly isn’t looking for love and is dead inside, but we can’t have that cause Uwu Angel needs to flirt with him so—