#hiiii longtime no see

[labannori]

The sun ☀️

[kellystar321]

.

[andiwriteordie]

HIIII i have a prompt for u,

have mike get a vecna vision where will dies in his arms. 🤭🤭🤭

this is not a want its a NEED.

im in the mood for angst rn and i love ur art style so...... 😊😊

oh this was a cruel cruel prompt 😈

here's a ficlet that turned into a fic because i combined it with another prompt lol 🫡

—

holding hands, while the walls come tumbling down 

It starts like this.

The steady yet nervous thump, thump, thump of a heartbeat that Mike can hear as loud as his own. A body nestled right beside him; an artist’s hands, smooth and soft and ever gentle, intertwined with Mike’s; a boy he has known for nearly his entire life and loved in some way for just as long who is here, here, here lying next to him—all Mike’s for the taking, just like Mike is all his. 

It’s quiet in the room, save for the soft sound of their breathing. That, too, moves in time with each other—the gentle rise and fall of their chests as they breathe in and out, in and out, in and out.

Mike would stay here forever if he could. And he thinks—no, no, no; he knows, without a shadow of a doubt in his mind and in his heart—that Will feels the same.

Mike has always prided himself on being the type of person to give everything to what he does. Sometimes (oftentimes), everything isn’t enough, but that doesn’t stop him from giving it his all anyways. He’s never been the type of person to do something halfway; no, for Mike, it’s always been a deep dive into whatever it is he’s set his mind out to. An all or nothing kind of deal.

Will’s different from him. That’s something Mike’s known since their very first conversation, when his excitable, overeager “Hi! Do you want to be my friend?” was met with a quieter, shyer, but no less enthusiastic, “Yes; I – I do!” from Will. He’s not the type of first to run headfirst into something, which is probably good for Mike. It probably keeps them both out of trouble. But when Will does commit to something, when he chooses what he wants, when he decides that Yes, yes, yes, this is something I’m willing to fight for, then he’s every bit as passionate as Mike is.

All or nothing. 

There’s no turning back for the two of them, and Mike couldn’t care less. This path they’ve stumbled down on is one they’ve been walking down for quite some time now—together, even though they were both a little too blind and far too stubborn to see it. Now that they can finally see each other, now that everything is out in the light, now that Will knows Mike loves him and Mike knows that Will loves him too, there’s no going back from here. They’ve passed the point of no return, and Mike will be damned if they ever go back to what they used to be.

It’s been a longtime coming for the two of them, and as Will nestles closer to Mike’s side, resting his head on Mike’s chest and letting out another soft, content sigh, Mike can’t help but smile. 

The world around them might literally be on the brink of ending—constantly shrouded in darkness, plagued by monsters from the Upside Down, cold and always on the brink of another terrifying, disastrous storm that will threaten to rip Hawkins apart—but Mike has never been happier than he is in this moment, here with Will.

“What’re you thinking about?” comes Will’s quiet, sleepy voice, and Mike glances down at his boyfriend (Boyfriend? Right? Is that what we are now?) and meets Will’s gaze. There’s a softness in his eyes, mixed in with the sleepiness that’s not surprising for how late it must be now, as well as a familiar curiosity. 

What’s wrong? Will’s expression also seems to say. Are you okay? Was… was this okay?

Mike just smiles, leaning forward and kissing Will, soft and slow. Immediately, the butterflies in his stomach come back to life, more excited and awake than they’ve ever been before today. “Just about how happy I am,” Mike admits, once he’s pulled away. “I… I never really thought this would happen to me… To us.”

The curiosity melts away from Will’s face, morphing into something softer and something a bit hesitant and shy. He pulls away, ever so slightly, and lies on his side, and Mike does the same, so the two of them are looking directly at one another now. The dim glow of the old lamp that’d made it with Mike all these years—somehow surviving the move from his childhood home to Hawkins Lab and making it through the literal apocalypse—shines down on them, illuminating Will’s face just enough for Mike to see him clearly.

Beautiful is the only word that comes to Mike’s mind.

“I never thought this would happen either,” Will whispers back. There’s a smile tugging at his lips, small and a bit shy, and he reaches forward, tucking some of Mike’s hair back behind his ears. “Part of me thinks I’m just… gonna wake up, and this is all going to have been a dream. Or worse. A trance.”

“Pretty sure it’s not a dream,” Mike says with a laugh, and just for good measure, he kisses Will again, relishing in the way Will’s face immediately brightens. “Or a trance. Unless we’re… both dreaming. Or stuck in a trance.”

“Stranger things have happened to us,” Will points out, just to be difficult. 

Mike rolls his eyes, before pulling Will close to him and kissing him again, slower this time and with more intention. Will moves easily in his embrace, following where Mike leads the two of them until their bodies are flush against each other again, filling Mike with that familiar sense of warmth and giddiness. And because it’s Will and because he wants this as much as Mike does, and because they’re both the type of people to go all in—all or nothing—Will kisses him back without any hesitation, his tongue exploring Mike’s mouth like this is the first and last time they’ll ever get to do this and his hands carding through Mike’s hair to pull him close, close, close but not close enough. 

“I love you,” Mike breathes. The words come naturally, and though they’ve gone unspoken all night, Mike knows they haven’t gone unsaid. Every single kiss and every single glance and every single touch shared between the two of them has been a whisper of those three words over and over and over again: I love you, I love you, I love you.

And there’s not a single doubt in Mike’s mind that he means it. 

A smile forms on Will’s face as he leans away, resting his forehead against Mike’s own. He looks absolutely radiant like this, face illuminated by the soft glow of that old lamp, smile stretching from ear to ear, eyes sparkling with a warmth that screams back to Mike, I love you, I love you, I love you, with just as much enthusiasm and excitement that Mike feels in his own heart.

“I love you too,” Will whispers back, and he reaches forward, cupping Mike’s face gently. “I love you so much.”

Then, without another word, Will closes the space between the two of them once more.

**

Mike wakes the next morning to the sound of screaming.

The sound startles him right out of whatever dream he’d been having, and Mike flinches sharply, sitting up and looking around the room. His heart pounds inside his chest, and an unsettled, terrified feeling grows inside his stomach as everything inside him switches from a sleepy, even idyllic state to DANGER, DANGER, DANGER mode in a matter of seconds. 

Save for the dim light of his desk lamp, the room is relatively dark, and there’s no one else in the room except for Mike and—

And Will.

There’s a terrified look on Will’s face, and much like Mike, he’s looking around the room, eyes darting back and forth nervously like he has no idea where he is or what’s real or whether or not they’re safe. He’s trembling too, hands clenched tightly around Mike’s old blanket, and he seems like he’s just another few moments away from a complete breakdown.

And instantly, Mike’s mind switches from the DANGER, DANGER, DANGER mode to his Will needs me mode.

“Hey,” Mike whispers, scooting close to Will and wrapping an arm around his shoulder. Will immediately flinches, startled by the touch, and Mike winces, running his hand up and down Will’s army gently. “Hey, it’s just me, Will. You’re okay. You’re okay. It was just a dream. Whatever you saw… it’s not real.”

That promise – it’s not a new one. After all, the last two-and-a-half years have been full of sleepless nights brought on by otherworldly nightmares. Nobody has been spared from them, but of everyone in the Party, Will has probably suffered the most, thanks to his deeper connection to One. These nightmares are nothing new, and yet, every single time Will suffers from one of them, it feels like a knife in Mike’s heart.

He can’t make the nightmares go away, but he can be there for Will. He can sit with Will until the darkness fades away, back into a vague memory, and he can hold Will and make promises that It’ll be okay; you’ll be okay; I’m not going anywhere; we’ll get through this. That’s really all Mike can do, and so God damn it, that’s exactly what he’s going to do.

Usually, it helps. It takes time, but usually, Will is receptive to the comfort, always leaning in close and allowing Mike to hold him until the terror subsides. 

But for some reason, this time, Will isn’t so receptive. 

It takes a moment, but out of nowhere, Will pushes Mike away, that terrified look still remaining on his face. He’s even paler than he was just a second ago, causing confusion to grow in Mike’s heart and mind. Before Mike can say anything though, Will whispers, “Mike… we have to go. Now.”

There’s an urgency in his voice unlike anything Mike has ever heard before, and that, coupled with the look of pure fear in Will’s eyes, is enough for Mike to understand exactly what’s going on, even before Will says anything about it. After all, there’s only one thing that would scare Will this much, and really, it’s just their shared, awful luck that this would happen today of all days. 

They just got together—finally, after years and years of dancing around each other and hiding from themselves and one another and never fully knowing if their feelings would be reciprocated. They just crossed that line from just friends into something more, and now…

Now, the world is actually, quite literally about to end. Now, the two of them stand on the precipice of something that could change everything and could ultimately decide the fate of the rest of the world. Now, the past five years of having their lives uprooted by the Upside Down will come to an end, one way or another.

Mike swallows the lump in the back of his throat, and he turns, meeting Will’s eyes. “It’s him, isn’t it?” he asks quietly, though he already knows the answer. 

A grim expression forms on Will’s face, and he takes another slow, shuddered breath, before nodding. “Yeah,” Will whispers back. “It’s him. One’s back, and we… we have to go. Now.”

The words before it’s too late hang on the end of Will’s sentence—unspoken, but not unsaid. He doesn’t have to say anything else or give any other details. Not yet at least. Those will come in time, as soon as they wake up the others and fill them in on what’s happening. But for right now, just between the two of them, all that Will has said is enough. 

And Mike gets the awful feeling that… that one way or another, today is going to be the end.

“Okay,” Mike whispers. He takes a deep breath. In and out. In and out. In and out. Then, a bit more confident, “We’ll go wake the others up, and we’ll put an end to this. It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

Those words aren’t ones that he has any business promising, and both of them know it. Still, Will’s shoulders do relax just a little bit, and he scoots close to Mike once more, taking Mike’s hand in his own. “It’s going to be okay,” Will echoes faintly. “We’ll make it through this.”

There’s a slight tremble in his voice, like he doesn’t know if he believes those words, and truthfully, Mike doesn’t know if he does either. But he forces himself to smile anyways and leans forward, kissing Will’s forehead. “Whatever happens today,” Mike says, his voice quiet, “I want you to know I love you.”

For a moment, it’s quiet in the room—the only sound the faint inhale and exhale from Will and from Mike himself. Then, in a voice that’s impossibly soft but still full of so much certainty, Will replies, “I know… and I love you too. Always.”

He glances back up at Mike with a bittersweet look in his eyes. The words are true, and Mike has no doubt about that in his mind… But both of them know that the words are a bit of a goodbye too—the last chance they might get to say things like this to one another, in case today doesn’t go the way any of them plan for it to.

Best case scenario? 

El manages to defeat One. None of their friends or family die. Hawkins and the rest of the world are saved. Somehow, some way, they figure out how to go back to being normal, stupid teenagers, and they put all of this behind them.

Worst case scenario? 

Well… Mike doesn’t really want to think about that. Best not to deal in what ifs and best not to let himself become too terrified of the outcome. What matters most is right now and finding the others, so they can actually stand a fighting chance. 

What comes later will come later.

“Always,” Mike echoes, just as soft as Will, and because he can—he can now—he leans forward and steals a quick kiss. “Come on. We should go wake the others.”

**

Downtown Hawkins is a complete wreck.

There’s no other way to describe it. This place has been a ghost town for over two years now, run down and battered and destroyed by the monsters that come up out of the rifts from the Upside Down. That’s no surprise at all, but what is a surprise is just how quickly a ghost town can become a battlefield. 

There are monsters everywhere, and large, black vines sprout up from the middle of the town—what used to be the library but has been a massive gate leading to the Upside Down since March 1986. The monsters just keep on coming, hundreds of them crawling, flying, stumbling out of the gate with roars and snarls so loud it’s a miracle Mike’s eardrums don’t burst.

The Party—which now unfortunately includes more than just the close friends Mike’s known since his childhood—has been training for this the entire time. Over three years of preparation have led them to this moment, but even all that time spent training and learning how to fight and how not to immediately die in battle can only get them so far. There’s only a small handful of them, and there are hundreds of monsters. 

If El can’t beat One, then there’s no way this doesn’t end with every single last one of them dead at the hands of some twisted, demo-creature. 

Still, Mike keeps fighting, operating on nothing but pure adrenaline now. There’s definitely a nasty cut and a bump on his head from a tussle with some mutated demodog of sorts, but Mike barely pays any attention to that. All he can do is keep fighting, shooting down demo-creature after creature and praying to whatever fucking deity may or may not be listening that he doesn’t run out of bullets before this is all said and done.

He’s long since lost track of nearly all the other Party members. El’s off somewhere fighting One. Lucas and Dustin are nowhere to be found but hopefully still alive and hopefully with someone else in their little group. The only person Mike’s managed to keep an eye on this whole time has been Will—and only because he and Will refuse to leave one another’s side. They’ve spent the better part of this battle fighting back-to-back with one another, barrages of well-aimed bullets flying out from their rifles and into the bodies of the monsters threatening to rip them into shreds. 

If this is how it ends, then all Mike knows is that he wants to be close to Will. 

The battle feels like it goes on forever—or at least long enough that the adrenaline begins to wear off, and the rifle in Mike’s hands begins to feel too heavy, and his limbs start to feel like they’re made out of jello. The exhaustion settles in, but there’s no time for that. Not when monster after monster keeps coming through the massive gate by the old library. So, despite the fact that everything begins to become a blur around him and it feels a bit like Mike is swimming underwater, trying his damnedest just to stay afloat, Mike keeps going and going and going in this hazy state until—

Until a scream pulls him right out of the haze. 

That scream is the gravity that takes Mike’s hand and pulls, pulls, pulls until Mike is crashing back down to earth in a crumpled heap. Suddenly, Mike feels more awake and more attuned to his surroundings and filled with a newfound strength that wasn’t there before.

It comes too little, too late though.

Because as Mike turns around, looking in the direction that the scream had just come from, he feels his heart drop all the way to the bottom of his stomach. Pure panic and terror settle into his heart and mind, replacing the exhaustion from before, and in an instant, it’s like everything within Mike has been reoriented, only able to focus on one thing.

On one person.

“Will!”

The scream tears itself from Mike’s throat, and before he can even process it, Mike is sprinting to where his boyfriend now lies on the ground, bright red blood pooling around him. The two of them must’ve gotten separated only moments ago, because Will’s a few feet away from him, and there’s a whimpering, half-dead demo-creature lying halfway between the two of them. The blood from the creature flows down the street, joining the pool of Will’s blood, and Mike fights the urge to gag as he throws himself down onto the pavement beside him.

The battle rages on all around the two of them, monstrous roars still echoing in the streets of their hometown—the horrific soundtrack to what is easily the worst moment of Mike’s life.

Because up close, it becomes even more clear just how bad Will’s injuries are. What’s left of his shirt is soaked in blood, and the tattered remains of the shirt barely cover the open wounds in Will’s chest and stomach. Every single breath he takes is labored and trembling, and already, his eyes have become glassy and distant.

He’s dying. 

Will is dying, and if Mike doesn’t do anything about it, he’s going to lose him, he’s going to lose Will, oh God, he’s going to lose Will, oh God, oh God, oh God—

“M-Mike?”

It’s Will’s wheezy, strained voice that snaps Mike out of the panic, and Mike flinches sharply, looking down at his boyfriend. Will’s eyes flutter open and closed, open and closed, and he struggles to keep them open as he looks up at Mike. He’s even paler than he was just mere moments again.

He’s fading. Quickly. Faster than Mike can even keep up with, let alone do something about.

Will is dying.

And Mike is going to lose him.

“J-just hold on, Will,” Mike manages to say, except that it comes out as more of a hoarse croak. His own chest feels tight, like someone is squeezing all the air right out from his lungs, and Mike chokes back a sob, weakly reaching for Will and pulling him into his arms. “Just hold on, okay? Okay, just hold on; you’re going to be okay; just hold on—HELP! Someone please! HELP! HELP US!”

Somehow, there’s no one around. Nobody can hear the strangled, desperate screams that are coming out of Mike’s mouth; nobody is around to see him sobbing and hugging Will tighter, as if somehow holding on to him will keep him here and keep him alive. Not even the demo-creatures, who were just surrounding them and threatening their lives, are around. 

It’s just Mike and Will here.

Nobody is coming to help them.

Will is dying.

And Mike is going to lose him.

“I’m sorry,” Mike gasps, looking back down at Will through the blurry tears in his eyes. “Will, I… I don’t think… I don’t know if—”

“Shh,” Will whispers, and he reaches up weakly, placing a trembling hand on Mike’s cheek. Somehow, he manages a smile, though his lips and teeth are stained red with blood. “Shh… Mike… ‘s okay… ‘s okay.”

Every single word out of his mouth sounds strained, as if it hurts to say anything, and Mike bites back a sob, holding Will closer. “It’s not okay,” he whispers back, shaking his head. “I – I don’t… I don’t want to lose you, Will. You can’t go; please, you can’t—”

Again, Will offers him a smile, and he runs his thumb carefully, gently across Mike’s cheek. “You… you’ll be okay,” he murmurs and takes another quiet, labored breath. Then: “I… I’m glad you’re… here with me.”

The words feel like a knife in Mike’s already wounded heart, twisting deeper and deeper and delivering the final blow. That familiar feeling of desperation crawls back up to the surface as Mike tries to think of something—anything—he can do to save Will. There has to be something that can be done, some way to save Will, some solution that will keep them from the ending they’re quickly approaching.

But without anyone nearby, there’s nothing that can be done. There’s no solution, no way to save Will at this point, nothing that Mike can do.

Nothing except for sit here and stay with Will until the very end.

So, that’s exactly what Mike does.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Mike promises softly, and he tilts his head, pressing a kiss against Will’s palm. The tears won’t stop now; they just keep coming and coming, dripping down Mike’s cheeks and onto the bloody ground. “I’ll stay here with you, Will… until… until…”

His voice trails off, dissolving into another sob, but Will gets exactly what Mike is trying to say. He always does, and though he looks exhausted and barely able to hold on any longer, Will smiles up at Mike and takes his other hand, interlacing their fingers. 

Time, the strange thing that it is, seems to slow down around them. It’s as if Mike is having an out-of-body experience, watching all this happen in slow motion around them—a mere observer to the worst moment of his life and the end of Will’s.

“I love you,” Will murmurs, breathless and barely audible now. 

“I love you too,” Mike whispers back, and he squeezes Will’s hand tightly, afraid to let go. The world shrinks and shrinks and shrinks until it’s just the two of them, frozen in this slow motion reality, and he watches as Will’s eyes flutter open and closed, open and closed, open… and closed.

He doesn’t open his eyes again.

And Mike’s world comes crashing down.

All at once, it’s as if the dam has burst, and another desperate, broken sob rips itself from Mike’s throat: “Will!” 

Whatever sense of peace or at least acceptance that he might have found lulled into during Will’s last moments has all but disappeared now—replaced by a gut-wrenching, all-consuming, grief that washes over him like a flood. The rest of the world still feels far away, as if nothing else in the world matters but Will, Will, Will.

Will is gone.

Will is gone. 

He’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone, he’s lying here and is dead in Mike’s arms, he isn’t breathing anymore, and his blood is all over the ground and all over Mike, and he’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone—

“I’m sorry,” Mike whispers brokenly, and he holds onto Will’s lifeless body, rocking back and forth in some desperate attempt to wake him up or to do something, anything, to fix this. “P-please come back, Will; please, please, please don’t go, please come back, don’t leave me, please don’t go, please, Will, please come back, please, Will—”

Time passes in its ever strange, inconsistent movement. It’s hard something that Mike can’t keep track of—not when his focus is solely on Will. 

But then, out of nowhere, something pulls Mike’s focus away from Will.

The air grows colder around the two of them; a pervasive, terrifying feeling of evil and darkness settles over downtown Hawkins. It’s familiar but jarring all at once, and Mike can’t help but shudder, holding Will’s body closer to his own. Slowly but surely, reality begins to settle back in, trickling in little by little through the cracks of Mike’s broken heart and mind.

The world around him is eerily quiet and terrifyingly still. Unlike the battlefield from before, downtown Hawkins has once again been reduced to nothing but a near silent ghost town. Gone are the vicious snarls and growls of monsters. Gone is the sound of bullets ricocheting through the air. Gone are the screams and furious cries of his friends and family.

In place of all of that is the simple sound of footsteps approaching him.

The footsteps are quickly approaching. Each step taken is one made with intention, and the movement brings that pervasive feeling of darkness closer and closer to Mike until the air around him feels near suffocating. All the while, Mike’s heart pounds in a nervous thumpthumpthump as the realization settles back in.

The battle is over.

There is no one left—no one but Mike.

All of his family, his friends, Will… they’re all gone.

And One has done it. He’s finally succeeded.

This is it.

This is the end.

As the footsteps approach, Mike takes a deep breath, and he leans down, pressing one last kiss to Will’s forehead. If this is it, if this is the end, if somehow Mike is the last person left of the Party, then he won’t go down without a fight. It doesn’t matter how futile it is. Mike has to at least try.

So, he gathers up all the courage left inside of him, and Mike lifts his head, daring to look One in the eye. 

Icy blue eyes meet Mike’s own for the first time as something akin to a smile forms on One’s face. He looks pleased—amused even—and stops, just a few feet away from Mike and Will. “Michael Wheeler,” One says, voice low and gravelly, “we meet at last.”

Mike swallows the lump in his throat, doing the best to ignore the way his stomach is twisted into knots. It feels impossible—that he would be the last person standing here after all this fighting and bloodshed. Mike’s never been much of a hero, and God knows that he barely stands a fighting chance against One. 

Still, his friends died trying to fight One and the monsters of the Upside Down. Will died trying to fight One and the monsters of the Upside Down. And if Mike is going to die too, then… so be it. 

“Rot in hell,” Mike spits, his own voice full of venom. His rifle’s long since gone, tossed aside somewhere in the desperation to save Will, so all he’s got left to fight with now are his words. Those will just have to do. 

One just chuckles and takes another step towards Mike, gesturing to the ruins of downtown Hawkins. “Look around you, Michael,” he says coldly, and against his own better judgment, Mike does so, his breath hitching as he takes in the carnage from the battle. “Do you see what I have done? Do you see what I am capable of? Do you see how futile fighting back is?” 

Suddenly, it feels as though some invisible force is wrapped around Mike, and it pulls him all the way to his feet with a terrified yelp. The force squeezes him so tightly Mike feels like he can barely breathe, and it brings him forward until Mike finds himself barely inches away from One. 

Another twisted smile forms on One’s face. He reaches forward, running his large, clawed hand down Mike’s cheek, and whispers, “You’re going to send a message for me, Michael Wheeler.” 

Barely a moment after the words have left his mouth, the visions begin.

The visions are familiar—some moments that Mike has lived through and seen with his own two eyes and others that he’s only heard about from his friends and family. They flash across his eyes at dizzying, overwhelming speeds, one right after another after another. 

At first, the visions are moments from today. Glimpses of the battle they all have just fought and lost, the screams of his friends and family, the snarls and growls of hundreds of demo-creatures coming out from the gates. But then, the visions work their way backwards, moving through moments in time from patrols over these past two years, Upside Down storms that began to cover Hawkins, and sporadic monster attacks that they almost didn’t survive.

The day at the meadow flashes through Mike’s line of sight too, before it quickly melts away into memories not belonging to himself. A jarring CRACK resonates through his mind as he watches Max’s bones snap and sees the gates ripping across all of Hawkins during that spring. Then, even before that, he sees Eddie’s death, sees his friends fighting for their lives against demobats and against vines, sees El and Max struggling against One’s power over them.

Suddenly, it’s the summer before, with the Mind Flayer and the Flayed and Billy. Starcourt Mall, going up in flames as the Mind Flayer’s fleshy form towered over and chased all of them. Black tendrils tracing up and down Billy’s face as an otherworldly horror controlled his actions. Will’s haunted whisper that the Mind Flayer was back, that this wasn’t over, that they still hadn’t escaped this.

Then, it’s the fall before that. The tunnels and the massive gate to the Upside Down. The night at the lab, with demodogs tearing through flesh and bone and with people screaming and crying for help. The Mind Flayer’s shadowy form, descending on Will, choking him, filling him up, and taking over his mind and body.

Finally, the visions end with that very first fall. The demogorgon, feasting on Brenner’s men at Hawkins Middle School. Hopper and Joyce finding Will in Upside Down. Will hiding and running for his life in the Upside Down, all alone with no one to help him. Barb screaming for help as the demogorgon rips her to shreds, and then—

Will.

Riding his bike through Hawkins, that very first night when this all began.

“Tell Will,” One’s voice whispers into the silence of Will’s bike ride through Hawkins, “that I am coming. The end is near, Michael. And there is nothing any of you can do to stop what I have been planning all along.”

One last vision flickers across Mike’s line of sight.

A memory that he still remembers, clear as day.

“It was a seven,” Will’s twelve year-old self says to Mike’s own younger self.

“Huh?” 

“The roll,” Will explains. “It was a seven. The demogorgon – it got me. Well, see you tomorrow!”

And just like that, Will’s younger self rides away, leaving Mike’s younger self standing just outside his garage.

Mike watches as the garage light flickers above his younger self.

Then, in the next instant, he finds himself falling into the darkness.

**

The darkness seems to last for an eternity. 

There’s an inky black void surrounding him as Mike falls, and he can’t help but scream, reaching out for something, anything to pull himself back up. But there’s absolutely nothing there to hold onto, so Mike just continues to fall and fall and fall, further and further into the darkness.

Then, suddenly, the darkness dissipates. The fog clears just a little bit, enough for Mike to hear someone call out his name: “MIKE!” 

Will? 

“MIKE!” the person—that’s Will, it has to be Will—calls again, more desperate this time, and Mike reaches back up, trying to grasp onto anything that will pull him out of the darkness. The way out seems just a little bit closer now, getting easier to reach out to as Will calls his name again, “MIKE! MIKE! MI—”

And with a gasp, Mike opens his eyes.

Light floods his line of sight, replacing the never-ending darkness at an overwhelmingly fast pace. Mike’s mind feels like it’s racing at a million miles an hour, and his heart is pounding inside his chest, so hard that it almost hurts to breathe. All the while, the room spins around and around and around and around and—

Suddenly, Mike’s knees buckle, nearly sending him crashing to the ground. Fortunately, someone—Will—is there to catch him, and though the two of them both stumble, Will manages to break his fall. “Mike?” he asks, voice full of concern. “Mike, hey, are you okay?” 

There are tears in Will’s eyes, and his face looks blotchy, like he’s been crying. Still, even with the worry written all over his expression, there’s relief there too, and Mike takes a shuddered breath, choosing to focus on Will. 

Will’s here. Will’s here, and he – he’s alive. He’s alive. Mike didn’t lose him. He’s not dead. Will isn’t dead.

Which means…

That entire battle must have been a vision from One. An opportunity for One to pass along a message that he’d been waiting to send. And… a warning for what’s still to come.

“Shit,” Mike whispers. “Shit. Will, we have to – he… One… I—”

“Hey, just take a deep breath,” Will says worriedly, and he hesitates, before reaching for Mike’s hand. “Just breathe, okay? Mike, you – you were in that trance for a while. We couldn’t snap you out of it, and I… I thought I was going to lose you.”

Will’s voice breaks on those last few words, breaking Mike’s heart with it. “I’m still here,” Mike reassures, reaching up and cupping Will’s cheek as gently as he can. “I’m still here, Will.”

A bright rosy blush spreads across Will’s face as his eyes widen and glance at Mike’s hand. “I know you are,” he replies quietly, “but I… I still could’ve lost you. I – I mean… we all could have.” 

The memories of seeing Will’s mangled body on the ground, surrounded by a pool of blood, come back to the forefront of Mike’s mind, and he can’t help but shudder. Without giving it another thought, he wraps his arms around Will, hugging him as tight as he possibly can. 

Mike… he still has no idea how much of the past two days have actually been part of his vision from One versus how much was real. There’s no doubt in his mind that the battle itself and his encounter with One were all a result of being held in a trance, but as for… as for everything that came before that—confessing his love for Will and learning about Will’s feelings in return—Mike isn’t honestly sure. 

There’s a part of him that thinks… maybe that stuff was just too good to be true. Maybe Mike did make that all up in his mind, or maybe it was just a trick from One, designed to taunt him before delivering the final blow. Maybe what happened with Will the night before that battle was nothing more than just a dream. 

Mike swallows the lump in his throat, and he tries not to think about that as Will hugs him tighter and buries his head in Mike’s shoulder. “I’m still here,” Mike repeats, softer now than before. “We’re both still here… We’re not going to lose each other, Will.” 

“The end is near, Michael,” One’s voice echoes through his mind—the cruel threat solidified in his mind now as a promise. This isn’t over. What Mike saw in his vision… it may very well come to pass. 

And just like Will once said to him, One isn’t going to stop until he takes everything and everyone. 

“And there is nothing any of you can do to stop what I have been planning all along,” One had told him, as the visions of Will leaving Mike’s house on that fateful night had played out for him like a twisted home video. 

More importantly, One isn’t going to stop until takes Will.

Mike can’t let that happen. He can’t lose Will.

Will takes a shaky breath of his own, and he pulls away, just enough for the two of them to look at each other, and offers Mike a tiny smile. “We won’t,” he agrees softly. He hesitates, then carefully lifts his hand, resting it against Mike’s cheek. “Are you… are you okay?” 

Will’s hand is warm against Mike’s face, and his touch feels like electricity. There’s something so genuine and so tender about the way that he’s looking at Mike and the way he gently runs his thumb across Mike’s cheek, over and over again. He’s here—warm and firm and solid, close enough that Mike is able to take his hand and hold on and never let go. 

Will’s here. He’s okay. He’s safe. 

And for now, that’s all that matters. 

So, even in spite of One’s haunting message and the visions from their past and the warnings of the future, Mike finds the ability to smile. He reaches up, putting his hand over Will’s, and he nods. “I’m okay. You’re here, so… I’m okay.”

Those words cause Will’s face to turn an even brighter shade of red, but he smiles regardless, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against Mike’s own. He takes Mike’s other free hand in his own and doesn’t say anything else—not that Mike needs him to. They’ve always been able to communicate without words, and this time is no different. 

Sure, the future might be bleak, and there’s no telling whether One’s visions will come to pass, even in spite of their best efforts to fight back. But right here, right now, he and Will are together. They’re both safe, and they’re both here.

All they can do is take this moment for what it's worth and hold onto each other while they still can. 

And for now, it ends in very much the same way that Mike thinks it began.

The steady yet nervous thump, thump, thump of a heartbeat that Mike can hear as loud as his own. A body nestled close beside him; an artist’s hands, smooth and soft and ever gentle, intertwined with Mike’s; a boy he has known for nearly his entire life and loved in some way for just as long who is here, here, here right in front—all Mike’s for the taking, just like Mike is all his. 

[cj-the-random-artist]

Hiiii, I absolutely adore your art style and QPR Narilamb au! I don't think I've ever seen one before! I also love the way you characterize the well... characters!

Uhhhhh, I guess I should ask an actual question, tho right?

So now that the Lamb sees that people like the "everything he hates about himself" side through the Goat, will he loosen up a bit? Or will he double down?

Once again love love love your art and au!

Ooh another question, got any OCs?

Hello!! Thank you!! I'm glad you like how I characterize them, I've gotta admit it's all very self-indulgent so whenever someone says they like my characterizations my brain breaks for a hot second lmfao

As for the question..... I think Lambert more shuts down initially, and then eventually lightens up. Like I think Lambert kinda sees that the flock becomes fond of the Goat quite quickly and they kind of distance themself from their followers. Like they do all the stuff that they've been doing but they seem more disengaged, and they go out on crusades more and more often, stay out for longer, and more and more frequently come back having died or been seriously injured while they were gone. And Narinder probably picks this up pretty early but doesn't really know what to do to help until it gets worse. Eventually, they do snap back into being more present, which goes along with their whole arc of learning that like, being imperfect is normal, the high standards they have for themself are incredibly unrealistic, they're allowed to take breaks and be a little selfish sometimes, etc etc, and I think in part the Goat also helps them with this- when Lambert eventually warms up to them, of course- and so does Narinder. But the way I imagine this most likely going is "Lambert starts to tune out and become distant and needs support to tune back in" kinda vibes. Sidenote: I didn't think that was going to sound that heavy until I wrote it out. Uh... sorry bout that.

As for OCs... I do have OCs, but I haven't posted about them in a really long time. Most of my OCs are in some way attached to the same story, which is a longtime work in progress of mine that I do intend to turn into a large scale comic one day, but... it's a very big project. Like, unreasonably big. That said, their (not current) information is available on my artfight, which can be found here. Not all their info on their artfight profiles is accurate because I've recently done an ungodly amount of worldbuild overhauling, rewriting, and contemplating of "hmm maybe this wasn't a good idea....." and those also aren't my only OCs, but... that's the best answer I can give ya for that. They exist, but current versions of them are not anywhere on the internets and I don't intend for that to change for a while (not until the start of the comic is ready, actually)

Anyways. Thank you so much for the ask, it makes me so very happy that you enjoy my art and my AU, and I hope you have a lovely day!!

[f0x-meets-w0lf]

well hey there friends and fiends, old and new! it’s so lovely to see some new folks here and so much activity that i wasn’t expecting. is this the dawn of a new fmw era? am i about to be willfully placed back into the loving, unhinged, horny shackles of fandom/fanart-making? perhaps so. perhaps not.

perhaps i will just be sprinkling little morsels about this digital plane every once in a blue moon, like rare truffles for all of the sweet fandom piggies to unearth with careful searching and patience. only time will tell

but either way, hiiii! i love y’all whether i know you or not, whether you’re a fresh follower or longtime one. this wee blog here has oft been a place for me to get my silly little ideas out of my brain, for better or for worse. welcome to my lil trash goblin corner 👹 thank you for joining me, it’s a delight to have you here. pull up an inflatable bubble chair or tufted floor pillow and make yourself at home. i’ve got fresh fruit juice and cold water in the mini fridge if you’re thirsty

[of-many-fandomss]

Hiiii

How are ya?

How's 2023 treatin ya so far?

I hope it's goin better than mine lol 😅

Aaanywayz...

I'd do anything for some protective Dean Winchester rn😭

Idk just, like, reader getting hurt/in danger/threatened or something and him just going, like, feral to protect her, yknow?

Because she is the love of his life and he'll do everything in his power to protect her and keep her safe. Idk man i just love that idea.

It could maybe be how they both figure out that they should be together romantically, or it could already be an established relationship. Whichever.

If some of this don't sit right with ya, or none of it🤷‍♀️, then feel free to ignore me, kay?

Hey there! I’m doing good! I hope everything gets better for you soon!! :)

—————

The fury that slammed into Deans body was enough to make a normal person crumble. But Dean wasn’t a normal person, and that fury surged through his body in a way that seemed to make the adrenaline he was feeling from the fight ten times more intense than it was.

A yell of rage left his lips before he had even fully comprehended what he was seeing- you, falling to the ground after being roughly stabbed in the stomach by a vampire that had snuck up on you.

After that, none of them stood a chance.

He let out another scream of anger as he whirled around with his machete raised, successfully decapitating two of them in one go.

More of course came charging at him, but Deans only thought in mind was to get to you, as the vampire sneered down at your quivering body while you tried your best to apply pressure to the wound.

On and on it went, him barely breaking a sweat as he surged through the nest to get to you, all thoughts of self preservation flying out the window. That was what always happened the second anything concerned you.

Sam had been teasing him mercilessly for months now about the feelings Dean had developed towards you. How he no longer felt keen on just staying friends with you, their longtime, badass hunting partner.

He never acted on admitted to his feelings though, knowing what happens in those situations in his line of business. But he could never fully stomp out the small sparks that light up in his chest whenever you smiled at him. Or the tingling feeling he had whenever you accidentally touched his arm. No matter how hard he tried.

When he had finally gotten over to you, he felt like it had been an eternity- when it reality it had been less than two minutes- and he growled at the vampire that was now watching him with wide, panicked eyes, “You son of a bitch!” He cried, swinging the machete and watching with satisfaction as the body and head fell to the ground.

“D-Dean,” Your weak voice finally snapped him out of his thoughts, and he discarded the weapon without a care, immediately, sinking to the ground beside you.

“Oh, sweetheart,” He breathed out, moving your shaking hands gently to the side so that he could be the one applying pressure to your stab wound, “Its fine, you’re going to be fine.”

“What happened?” Sam came up behind his brother with wide eyes, having just been tasked with taking care of the other room full of vamps.

“What does it look like?” Dean snapped, not really meaning to be harsh with his brother.

Sam paid him no mind though as he quickly rushed out, “We have to get her to the hospital.”

The eldest Winchester nodded his head once, immediately scooping you up into his arms and began running through the building to get back to the car, Sam right on his heels.

“D-Dean,” You repeated, eyes growing heavier and heavier.

“Hey, shh, it’s okay, you’re alright. Just keep those pretty eyes open for me, sweetheart.” He said, gaze dropping to yours quickly before speeding up even more.

“D-Dean, I-“ You coughed violently, sending a sharp pain to the man’s chest at the sound, “I love you, Dean.”

Under any other circumstance, those words would have stopped him dead in his tracks, possibly halting his breathing as well.

“Come on, just stay awake.” He wouldn’t allow himself to dwell on your words, knowing you probably only said them because you thought you weren’t going to make it.

He wasn’t going to let that happen.

You grasped at his arm, forcing him to look at you, “I-I mean it,” You whispered, “I love you and I always have. I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

Never once sleeping his pace, Dean dipped his head down and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, “I love you, I love you too. So damn much, but we can talk about this later. Right now we have to get you to the hospital.”

[tojikai]

Is the Mystery man Suguru Geto!

He not quite tall as gojo but is bigger than him and also that line “Think you know who I am now?” Why would he say that? Unless he and Gojo used to know each other? Maybe even friends?

Imagine Former best friend get together with baby mama and he starts treating her better than you and watching them act like a happy family together and see her the happiness she ever be a longtime. I hope it is Suguru🤞Kai

I also hope you got plans for Gojo and what her name preferred painful plans for them it just wouldn’t be fair if y/n is only one suffering in this story

P.s Kai how long Sundered going to be? I know you said it would be a mini series but what do you consider to be a mini series personally like 6 part or something like fix You series or PM series

HIIII thank u so muchh, im happy u enjoyed it<33 as for the length, idkk omg im sorry, but I don't think it's gonna fit in three parts so definitely more than that JDKLDSKSKS

[telomeke-bbs]

Hiiii!! 💖

I love your analysis and opinions and I just saw this tweet about a Bad Buddy scene and wanted to ask what your thoughts are about it?

https://twitter.com/amaranthfoxtail/status/1629839868695117824?s=46&t=SwaHCtnbpSqeuX21_sj56g

Well hi there Anonymous, thanks for stopping by! 🥰

For context, the following screencap is from the tweet above (also linked here), and it's about Pran's behavior when Ming comes to thank him for his help in getting Pat exonerated, at Ep.10 [1I4] 4.56:

I agree with OP on Twitter that this is another demonstration of Nanon's acting prowess. 😍 It's not of great significance to the plotline (in the sense that his acting here is not in service of some momentous reveal), but nonetheless what he does really helps reinforce the storytelling by further solidifying what we already know about Pran as a character.

To be quite honest, I actually hadn't noticed Nanon doing his thing in this scene, because BBS is full of quality acting (especially from the leads). Even the supporting cast were mostly commendable (with a couple of notable exceptions, whom we shall charitably leave nameless, of course 😉).

When you're not distracted by actorly inauthenticity, it's much easier to lose yourself in the narrative and its message. And with Bad Buddy, I found myself completely sucked in for the most part.

There was so much happening at the levels of text, subtext and metatext that it was all too easy to forget just how good at their craft (most of) the actors are. This little scene is a reminder to take a step back and admire one set of beautifully-functioning cogs and wheels that not only helped to bring the overall ideas-juggernaut that was Bad Buddy to life, but also imbued the chugging machine with a human soul. 🥰

Because of Dissaya's constant drumbeating about how much of a danger Ming and his gang of Jindapats next door were, Pran had always lived his life with his defenses mounted sky-high, keeping his personal life and any perceived vulnerabilities hidden away and protected from the outside. (See this link here for an analysis of Pran's private, protected world.)

At this juncture in BBS, Pran must also have been struggling internally (although, as usual, he's keeping it hidden from outside view). Despite the happiness of finally coupling up with his longtime crush Pat, that very same relationship (a font of so much joy) would also have been a source of distress on some level for him too.

Due to Dissaya's indoctrination, ever since his babyhood, Pran's one overriding assignment in life (above all others) was to stay the hell away from the evil, evil Jindapat family.

And falling into couplehood with his beloved Pat was the ultimate transgression of this one singular mission assigned to him ("You had ONE job!", I can almost hear Dissaya screaming at him. And she did, in a way, later this episode. 🤦‍♂️)

After a lifetime of secret-keeping, Pran is now saddled with one more skeleton to keep buried (at least from their families), and it's the biggest one of all.

So when he finds himself being approached by The Big Bad out on a public street, while he's actually talking with Pat, this must have been a terrifying moment for Pran (especially since he and Pat had already been outed as a couple by Wai on campus in Ep.8 [4/4]).

What Nanon does here is fill out his portrait of Pran with all-believable details, because we see Pran reacting wholly in character, consistent with his inner motivations.

As Ming nears, we see Pran's eyes flash with momentary fear, and he instinctively begins putting up walls to retreat behind (entirely in keeping with his basic modus operandi for any outside threat since childhood.)

His salutary wai to Ming is not a lowering of the drawbridge; it's a formality that is but one part of the culturally-imposed layering of politesse over social encounters in Thailand, which helps to keep things at a safe and formal distance (and Pran at this stage is all about building up layers as buffers to the outside, so of course he rushes one out, albeit awkwardly).

Nanon then goes for the body language, and opts for a clearly defensive stance to illustrate Pran's need to shield himself psychologically from The Enemy, with his arms crossed tight and low against his body. All the while his posture is stiffened, as though he's barely remembering to breathe, frozen like a prey animal that's aware it's been sighted.

Then there's the clasping of the watch. On one level it must have been hugely reassuring to Pran (in this moment of fearful uncertainty) to be able to physically touch – if not his beloved Pat standing right next to him (for that would have been madness in Ming's presence), then at least an enduring symbol of the love they share. 💖

But with a closer look we see he's not just touching or fingering it like a totem for comfort – he's covering it totally from view. Since Ming can't have known how the watch is symbolic of Pran's long-held love for Pat, there is actually no need for Pran to hide it from him.

But that fact is immaterial to Pran, because I think he indulges in a lot of his (trademark) behaviors more for himself than others. It's a coping mechanism, for him to feel in control and safe. For example, arranging his coloring kit so that it grades across the spectrum, having a strictly-choreographed morning routine, the large smiley on his door – all these are almost ritualistic in nature, bringing order, comfort and calm (in that sequence) to Pran's world.

So even while the watch doesn't mean a thing to Ming, hiding it from him is a tremendous psychological boost to Pran. On one level, it's a reminder to him of his other defensive circles around all that he holds dear.

But the watch also throbs with the emotional weight of all his unrequited love accumulated over years spent pining, a love that then ballooned to its fullest form when fed with Pat's love returned. It's a metaphor not just of the present-day love between him and Pat, but also of the defining history of how that love came to be, and in that way a metaphor of the relationship itself over time (a watch is a signaler of time, after all).

So covering the watch with his hand is yet another metaphor, for how Pran has been shielding the true nature of his association with Pat all his life. (And when he does this, a little part of me also wants to think he's also trying to protect his beloved Pat as well. 💖)

I wouldn't have expected anything less from Pran, because he loves plastering the walls of his life with metaphors that embody his preternatural need for veiled communication (at least up until this point).

And then we need to take ourselves out of the moment, and ponder the fact that Nanon was holding all of this roiling backstory within himself and using it to shape a Pran of prized authenticity, who is true to life, consistent, rounded and believable to any viewer. Nothing short of amazing. 🤩

It's just occurred to me though, that Ming's expression of gratitude and also Pat's excitement at the possible thawing of family relations in this scene could have helped push Pran to try living his life with more vulnerability exposed.

But instead of doing it gradually, he made it a seismic change by organizing their khan maak in front of the Archi Faculty, a mutual and very public declaration of love – and it unfolds right after this scene (barring the opening credits).

Unless I'm mistaken, this really is the last time we see Pran with his shields and defenses anxiously up – conveyed to us via a few simple gestures from the master of subtlety Nanon Korapat.

So aside from Ming's hugely unexpected apology to the offspring of his sworn enemy, this scene was also notable for maybe helping to nudge Pran out of his shell. Who knew there was this milestone in there too? 😍💖

P.S. If you'd like to read a bit more about Nanon's and Ohm's acting styles, @absolutebl's got some more analysis at this link here (and as usual it's some mighty fine stuff 👍).

[dreamylittlesugarcube]

Hiiii, can I ask for a one shot where y/n meets their longtime pen pal for the first time in forever only to find out that they've actually been sending letters to either Kyungsoo, Chanyeol or Junmyeon? Thank you!!

Hello, requester anon! It’s been a while since you requested this one but hopefully you’ll still see it here. Hope you like it and thank you for your request! ✨ Kyungsoo in his “Cream Soda” era is just 🤌 ❤️ so I picked Kyungsoo for this one lol!

[luxurybrownbarbie]

Hi it’s Nicole again <3! Long time no see. Just as expected I’m starting to thrive. I got a new laptop, my bills are paid for months in advance and I’m about to begin investing more in myself and my education.

Hope you’re doing well !

Hiiii Nicole! 💛 l am so so happy to hear this!! I knew you'd be thriving, and I'm so happy that you have months to just chill without worrying about bills. This is the perfect time too, you can just focus on you for the rest of the year and start afresh come January. I love it!

I'm doing well! It’s my favorite time of the year right now, so I’m in peak form. I am ready to write a novel about how much I wish family members and family friends would not give their unsolicited opinions on weddings. A longtime family friend just got disinvited a few days ago because she made a rude comment about the size of one of my bridesmaids. 😒

[ahtsumu]

Hiiii can i request a hcs for akaashi, iwa and oikawa where they secretly have a crush on their childhoodfriend!reader for so long and they panic when the reader got asked out by someone that they can't stand? I hope this makes sense👉🏼👈🏼🥺 ty so much in advance i really love the way you describe things in your writing💓💓💓💓

longtime crush + childhood friend!reader being asked out by another hcs with akaashi, iwaizumi, and oikawa

genre(s): angst oops

warning(s): nope!

a/n: hey so you didn’t specify how you wanted it to end so i just left that open-ended ?? hopefully it meets your expectations haha :D also i may have gone a little ham with akaashi’s im sor ry 

[akaashi]

akaashi tried to accept the fact that you just might slip out of his grasp–– he really did

it’d always made more sense for him to just go with the flow, letting things happen to him instead of making them occur himself, because he trusted that there was a logical explanation for everything that happened

but the insane, paralysing ice that was spreading through his chest at the moment did not make sense

your text had sent five minutes ago and akaashi felt like he hadn’t breathed since. his brain was going haywire

y/n: soooo maeda asked me out today

he started typing out his response for the third time, paused, deleted, started typing again... paused, deleted. was there any way to make “say no and go out with me instead” sound less selfish? less… demanding?

trying to retain even the smallest bit of logic, every possible outcome to his text played vividly through his brain

option a: studying for math tests separately. no more after-practice snacks at the 7/11 near school. he starts mornings a bit later now that he can’t stop by your house first. you tell kinda funny lame jokes to maeda instead. bokuto slings one arm around akaashi’s shoulder and ignores how the other just hangs awkwardly now. your teacher stops calling your mom to complain about how much you talk in class–– she complains about your falling japanese literature grades. no more “good luck akaashi”s before every game. you avert your eyes in the hallways. he misses you every day.

option b: a kiss for every problem you both get right. holding hands as you stroll into the 7/11 near school. he starts mornings even earlier by having breakfast at your house. maeda watches him with envy from afar. bokuto third wheels behind you. your teacher starts calling your mom to complain about akaashi. you wear his jersey and kiss him before saying “good luck akaashi” at every game. you wink in the hallways. you love him back.

the wave of jealousy that had washed over him whispered in his ear that not telling you to say no wasn’t an option–– in fact, seeing you with anyone else but him wasn’t up for discussion

with your conversation a blur through his panicked eyes, his fingers made the decision for him

keiji: you should say no and go out with me instead

if akaashi had been as collected as he typically was, he would have seen that in the time he spent weighing his options, you’d sent a second and third text

y/n: i said no btw

y/n: i like someone else haha

[iwaizumi]

iwaizumi had never been the type to wear his heart on his sleeve–– he preferred his affection to hint at itself through his words and actions, no matter how ambiguous they were

still, the creeping suspicion that all of his affection had been lost in translation burrowed itself in his head when he walked into the cafeteria during lunch and saw you laughing beside another seijoh third year–– some guy he remembered to have heckled oikawa at a game before

discreetly, he walked past your table from behind, trying to gain an idea of what the guy could’ve possibly been saying to make you beam like that

“.... bowling on friday maybe? are you into that?”

iwaizumi blinked as he passed. were you being asked out?

suddenly the only thing he could hear was his own blood pounding against his eardrums— only broken through by his own voice telling him to keep walking, keep walking, keep walking

he felt completely lost. was it too late to start laughing at your jokes instead of merely smirking and rolling his eyes? was it too late to text “sweet dreams y/n” instead of “go to bed it’s late”? was it too late to start greeting you by wrapping you in his arms instead of ruffling your hair? but he’d been doing that since you were both children…

“hajime!” you called out once lunch ended, bouncing over to his side, “you’ll never guess what happened”

“hmm?” he asked, struggling to keep his composure

“i got asked out by yamamoto”

iwaizumi swallowed uncomfortably and crossed his arms over his chest. “oh.” 

“you’re not gonna ask if i said yes?”

he stayed silent, unsure if he even wanted to know

your face fell just a little bit. “y’know, hajime, sometimes i wonder if you even care about me.” you’d meant for it to come out playfully, though he could hear that you were upset

the voice in his head spoke up again— say it. say it. say it.

so he did

[oikawa]

oikawa felt like you’d pulled the rug out from underneath him when your note said that you wouldn’t be walking home with him that day because you were going on a date

with his mortal enemy, not to mention

all his life, he’d grown up with you at his side: from the schoolyard swing set where you’d compete to see who could swing the highest to the middle school gym where he took you to junior high prom to class 6 in aoba johsai where he’d often find his eyes gravitating to you every so often

he’d thought you would, like the earth does with the sun, revolve around him forever and, similarly, he’d also thought that he had forever to tell you that he loved you–– that he’d loved you for so long that he’d forgotten at what point his feelings even began. and until today, he’d thought that you loved him too

but now, as his chestnut eyes scanned over the note again just to make sure he wasn’t imagining anything, it finally registered in his brain that if he didn’t make a move now, oikawa tooru was going to lose you

from the table beside him, you watched as he blinked in shock. a curious look flitted over your face. that was not the reaction you’d anticipated

“lol are you surprised that someone actually finds me attractive??” you wrote on another slip of paper, sliding it on top of the original note on oikawa’s desk

you’d expected a reply seconds later, something along the lines of his usual snark, something like “ofc not even shrek found love”

but his reply never came

in fact, oikawa remained silent for the rest of the class, absent-mindedly fiddling with your first note between his fingers as he stared ahead, mind most definitely lost elsewhere, only returning to the present once the bell rang for lunch

“tooru,” you called out after him in the hallway, “what’s wrong?”

“why?” he asked, gesturing to your note in his hand. “why him?”

you furrowed your brows. “what do you mean? he’s nice”

“and me? am i not nice?”

it became a lot clearer to you that, perhaps, what he was really asking was: why not me?

you’d always had an inkling that there was something that tiptoed between the lines of your friendship with oikawa–– something that surfaced as gazes caught red-handed and then locked, as hugs that lasted a beat longer than most, as rare glances into the hidden universe inside his mind

you were just too afraid to jeopardise your oldest friendship for a feeling that might not have even been returned

but as oikawa stood there in front you with his eyes wide with imploration, knuckles white around your note, it suddenly struck you that maybe–– just maybe, not all was as hopeless as it seemed

[redhoodieone]

I Want to Suck Your “C”

A/N: Hiiii everyone! I haven’t written smut in so long, so I thought…what the hell? Write something dirty for the hell of it! So, here it is! Hope you enjoy it! P.S…if this becomes a big hit…I’ll write a Part 2 where Jason Todd returns the favor for the reader and eats her…you know…hahahha!!!!

Warnings: Smut…language…just filthy stuff.

Plot: Reader wants to suck Jason’s cock so bad. He doesn’t mind one bit. Once they’re alone in church, she shows him how much she needs him. Two horny teenagers in Catholic school give into temptation and they soon learn being bad is so good.

  I Want to Suck Your “C”

I know I shouldn’t be proud. This revelation should be a wakeup call to get help, or go all our church services to beg for mercy and forgiveness.

Because what would my parents say if they found out I was secretly a cock slut? What if they think if I just came right out and said I’m a cum slut...

For Jason fucking Todd.

Here I am, an eighteen-year-old who is about to graduate from St. Mary’s Catholic School, sitting in the church with my other classmates and listening to Father Peter telling us stories about...wait for it...

Temptation.

I silently whimper, wiggling my ass in my seat to properly pull down my plaid skirt to my knees, but the length isn’t as long as it should be. I swallow hard when I chance a glance at the other side of seats where Jason Todd is sitting with his friends.

For an eighteen-year-old boy, Jason isn’t like the other guys in our grade who still look like they’re growing out of puberty. Already taller than most boys, Jason’s body is as masculine as I could imagine despite always wearing his school uniform of gray slacks, a white button down, blue blazer, and blue and yellow striped tie. I can’t lie and say I’ve never noticed how his pants really define his rather large bulge and how his biceps flex every time he’s reaching out to throw a football on the front steps of the church before and after school.

And don’t get me started on his dark hair and blueish/gray eyes. The guy could be a fucking model when he graduates, but the sexiest guy in school has already claimed he wants to become a priest.

If Jason Todd really becomes a priest, consider me his devoted believer.

Or sinner...

I can’t really say that I disagree with Jason’s future plans considering I do know for a fact that he had a very rough past. Details about his upbringing and parents have never been discussed amongst us peers as Father Peters and our other teachers have told us Jason’s past will always remain a secret. But they couldn’t blame us for being curious anyways since Jason was brought into the church and school when he was just fourteen years old  after getting into dangerous trouble. Father Peters actually saved Jason’s life, and in a way, he gave Jason a second chance at life.

And he gave him a home here in the church.

Maybe that’s why Jason is dead set on becoming a priest...maybe to help others and give them a second chance at life.

I’m completely staring at Jason now. He’s facing forward, listening to Father Peters ramble on and on, while I’m imagining the ways I would commit sin and give into temptation to Jason Todd.

I would suck his cock.

Fuck that. I WANT to suck his cock.

Damn...I bet Jason has a big, heavy, thick cock.

I mean, his hands and feet are huge, and I overheard from some other girls that the size of hands and feet could confirm boys’ dick sizes.

Even my best friend Bree had said her boyfriend Ryan’s dick size was accurate from just the size of his big hands and feet.

My mouth waters from just thinking about Jason’s cock. I bet if I sucked him hard and swallow his dick good that he’d shoot his hot, delicious cum down my throat and have such an amazing orgasm all because of me.

But then to my horror, Jason turns around in his seat and spots me staring at him like a psychotic, creepy stalker. Embarrassed and wanting to die in this church, I slowly sink in my seat and force my eyes away from him.

What the hell is wrong with me? Why am I suddenly losing my cool? How in the world could I be so fucking horny?

True, as a Catholic teenager, I admit I haven’t ever engaged in any sexual activities because of my vow to wait until marriage. But just because I’m saving myself until marriage doesn’t mean I have to ignore and suffer through the agony and war of my sexual urges. And it’s simple: I masturbate.

Most of the time it works. I’m no stranger when it comes to massaging and pinching my sensitive nipples or finger fucking my pussy until I literally explode through my wet release. But lately my uncontrolled horniness seems to be coming from my longtime crush Jason who has lately been hanging around my inner circle.

True, we do have mutual friends and we are in most of each other’s classes, but I can’t help but wonder why. Why is Jason always close by? Why does Jason always look like he’s watching out for me when I’m by myself?

And why is Jason staring at me right now during our church service?

From just the corner of my eye, I can see Jason staring at me with an unreadable expression.

Is he mad at me for staring at him first?

Is he wondering what my deal is?

Is he trying to tell me I need to get help or he’s going to file a restraining order against me?

The church bell soon rings, and we’re all dismissed to go home.

Standing in the hallway just outside the church doors, I slide my messenger bag over my shoulder. I then notice everyone had quickly taken off to go home. Skipping my way down to the doors, a hand grabs a hold of my elbow and tugs me backwards until my back hits against a strong chest.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Jason Todd.

I would recognize that deep, addictive, and unforgettable voice anywhere. 

I initially freeze. Is he really talking to me right now, after I made a complete idiot of myself for staring at him like he’s some sort of expensive prime rib?

“I said, where do you think you’re going, Y/N?”

I’m suddenly being turned around to face him. His hands move up from my elbows to my shoulders. I’m able to finally see how serious he is and how he wants me to answer to him.

So, I look up at him and squeak an answer out like a mouse because I apparently can’t speak like a human being. “Home.”

Jason raises an eyebrow. “You’re really going to go home right now?”

His hands are still gripping me, and I swear his fingertips are rubbing hard through my blazer so I can feel him touching me.

“Well, everyone else has gone home so...I have to go, too,” I answer weakly.

Jason licks his lips and instantly smiles down at me. “That’s a shame...because I thought you wanted to stay behind and explain why you were staring at me like you wanted to eat me.”

You mean, eat your cock. I think to myself.

“About that, I’m really sorry I was doing that to you earlier. It was...very creepy of me to do that,” I apologize, feeling more embarrassed about how stupid I am, and how I can’t handle this stupid crush I have on him. “I won’t do it again. I know it bothers people, and I-I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“But you didn’t make me feel uncomfortable,” Jason speaks out fast and stares into my eyes. His pupils are blown. “In fact, you made me feel like you wanted to do something...”

“Something?” I whisper.

Jason leans in closer to me. I can feel his hot breath on me. He smells so fucking good. He must be wearing a woodsy type of cologne, and his breath smells minty from chewing gum earlier.

His lips practically touching mine, but there’s still that thin open space between us.

“Yeah...but what? What were you wanting to do...to me, sweetheart?” Jason whispers.

“I wanted to suck your cock.”

WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?!

DID THOSE FUCKING WORDS JUST LEAVE MY FUCKING MOUTH?!?!

Holy shit, Y/N!

I stare at Jason; horrified and humiliated at how blunt I am, how I can’t keep my sexual thoughts to myself, and how I’m going to have to change schools because of this!

Jason is going to hate me now. Any chances I had with him before graduating school are now gone.

I need to leave. I need to get the hell out of here now. I need to leave town.

I force myself to look up at him after having my eyes shut tightly in fear from what I did. But Jason’s eyes are not angry. He doesn’t seem offended or even weirded out.

In fact, Jason looks...horny.

His eyes have darkened, and his pupils are huge. His hands grip my shoulders tighter and I can see he’s breathing kind of hard; almost restraining himself.

“I’m sorry. I’m so-so sorry for what I said. Please. Please don’t hate me,” I plead, after noticing he hasn’t moved or said a word to me. “Let’s just pretend this never happened. Okay? Let’s just pretend I never said that and I never meant it.”

I expect Jason to leave now. I even expect him to tell Father Peters what I said.

But no. What Jason does next is something I could have never imagined.

“No.”

I blink a few times. “Excuse me?”

“I said no. No, I don’t want to pretend this never happened.”

“But...but I seriously made you uncomfortable. I know you don’t like me, but-”

“That’s bullshit! Of course, I fucking like you, Y/N! I’ve always liked you!” Jason snaps, obviously angry at me for a reason. “Why do you think I’ve been hanging around you more? And don’t tell me it’s because of our friends, because if you watched me more, you would see I was the one staring at you the whole time.”

I softly smile. “Really?”

“Hell yeah, Y/N. You’re so fucking beautiful, and that completely confuses the shit out of me that you can’t or don’t see that.”

I open my mouth to speak but Jason beats me to it again.

“I want to eat your pussy.”

My eyes widen at Jason’s confession. I don’t know what startled me more: Jason having a dirty mouth and swearing, or him actually admitting he wants to go down on me?

Maybe both.

I feel like I’m dreaming. I’m probably asleep in the church from earlier. Oh yes. I fell asleep during Father Peters’ story.

Jason pulls me towards him until our bodies touch. I feel his lips against my ear. “Is that something you’d want, Y/N? Huh? Is that something you’d want me to do to you?”

I feel my pussy tingling with excitement. I know I’m getting so wet in my panties. I rub my thighs together but unknowingly rub myself against Jason during the process.

“Do you want me to eat that delicious, wet pussy of yours?” Jason whispers to me.

“Only if I can suck your cock, Jason.”

Jason quickly pulls back to look down at me with such heat and adoration that he kisses me hard. He wastes no time licking and nibbling my bottom lip for me to open my mouth. His tongue searching throughout my mouth, rubbing against my tongue, and just swallowing each other’s moans is everything I’ve ever dreamed of.

Breathless, we pull away from each other; but not for long.

“Father Peters won’t be back for another half hour. Let’s go to the church.”

Not even a second to think, I agree with Jason’s suggestion. We need to be alone now.

Jason takes my hand and leads me into the dark silent church. We stand behind the alter where no one could see us unless they turned on the light. But with the sun still out for another hour, we could see each other just fine.

He quickly brings me close to him so our bodies are touching. He slams his lips against mine and we fall back deeply into our kiss. I can feel his hands running down my shoulders, down my back, until he grabs a hold of my ass with both hands.

I moan into his mouth. I allow my hands to rub his hard chest until I move my hands down his abs and eventually down to his crotch area.

I pull my lips away from his only enough so I can whisper to him. “I want to suck your cock so badly, Jason. I want to suck so hard. I want you to fuck my mouth until you cum. I want to taste your cum so much. I’ll swallow every single fucking drop until you can’t give me more. I just want you, Jason. I want every inch of your masculinity, please,” I plead like a desperate little slut. And I literally feel no shame or embarrassment now.

I can see Jason’s hunger for me in his eyes. He’s panting so much right now that I know for a fact this won’t last long.

“Fuck...doll. Are you my cock slut? Huh? Are you my cum slut now? You want my cock and cum, don’t you?” Jason asks me breathlessly.

I grip his tie so hard. I’m having the hardest time controlling myself until he gives me the green light. “YES! Oh God, yes Jason! I’m your cock slut! I’m your cum slut! I want your cock and cum so much! Please let me!”

Jason grins cockily and unzips his pants. “Drop to your knees, Y/N.”

I fall to my knees. Hard. But I don’t care. I’ll handle the pain because nothing is more important than Jason’s cock.

Unbuckling his belt, I waste no time pulling down his boxers until his long, hard, thick cock slaps against his stomach. I stare in amazement. It’s everything I imagined it to be. I quickly reach up to grab a hold of dick just so I can lick the tip, sucking and swallowing his precum like I’m drinking from a ripe peach.

“Oh fuck...Y/N,” Jason moans out breathlessly. His hand quickly runs through my hair until he’s holding a good handful of it to tug. “Suck my cock good, sweetheart.”

I moan from just the smell and taste of him. Despite the natural sweat of his, his scent is pure musk and it’s just...so Jason.

Jason is literally all man. And I love that.

I then lick his cock from the base back to the tip while looking up into eyes. “Go ahead, Jason. Fuck my mouth. Give me everything you’ve got.”

“Y/N...”

I wrap my lips around his cock while holding the rest I can’t fit into my mouth. Slowly, I begin to bob my head back and forth just to get used to Jason’s cock. I’ve never sucked a dick before so I just try to go along with what seems like could feel good and by the hot sounds coming from Jason.

Jason begins to pant hard; moaning every time I swallow his cock only to pull back and suck his sensitive tip just to get a response from him.

And that’s what I’m getting myself off on: Jason’s moans.

I grab a hold of his hips and begin to push him into my mouth: showing him he has my permission to thrust in my mouth. He starts off slow; gradually gaining speed when he sees that I can take his cock no matter what.

I could feel myself wetting more in my pantries. With one hand, I reach down under my skirt and rub myself against my underwear; feeling the juices I’m making because of this hot guy.

“Ah shit...oh fuck...Y/N,” Jason moans louder. “You suck my cock so good. Fuck...you like sucking my cock, don’t you? You like sucking my big cock?”

I nod my head and moan my answer; humming around his cock that vibrates and makes him whine.

God, I fucking love destroying this guy with my mouth.

I quickly glance up and see Jason with his head tilted back and eyes shut tightly when I begin to go faster. I start to jack him off fast, gripping his cock in a tight fist while sucking harder. I moan around his cock to encourage him to fuck my mouth with every hard thrust he’s giving me.

His hips colliding against me doesn’t bother me at all. The way his cock goes farther and farther into my mouth makes my eyes water, but his whiny moans and the thought of him cumming because of me is worth it.

I start to imagine Jason fucking my pussy. I imagine him fucking me with his deep, hard, and fast thrusts. I know he could make me scream his name and cum. I could cum right now just because of what I’m doing to him.

“Y/N...I’m-I’m gonna cum,” Jason moans and grips my hair tightly. He’s breathless. He’s whimpering because he’s going to cum hard. “Fuck...I’m gonna cum in your mouth. I wanna see my cum on your tongue.”

Just the thought of Jason cumming from me is what I want the most. I know once this is over that this can’t be the end.

It just can’t be.

Suddenly, Jason thrusts hard three times in my mouth; gasping and choking out my name as he cums hard into my mouth; spurting and coating my throat and tongue.

“Y/N...” Jason moans my name. “Fuck...”

It’s delicious. Jason gently pulls away from me as I sit up straighter on my knees and open my mouth for him.

There on my tongue. Jason’s cum. Hot and delicious, just for me.

“Fuck doll...do you like my cum? Does it taste good?” he asks, panting hard from his orgasm.

I swallow all of it. “I love it. It’s yummy.”

Jason’s eyes darken again from what I said. He growls. He immediately almost turns into a predator as he kneels down to the floor and crawls over to me.

Without any warning, Jason pushes me down onto my back. Lying down on the floor, he gets on top of me only to pull down my skirt and panties. I squeal when his hands finally settle on my hips only to hold me down.

My bare pussy is on display. Just for Jason.

 With a cocky grin, he looks into my eyes and licks his lips.

 “I want to eat your pussy.”

[najatheangel]

Hiiii!!!💜 May I just tell you that your work is so gorgeous!! 😍 And have a nice day and stay healthy 💜

Heyy darling longtime no see love hehe 😉💜. Thanks so much I’m so happy! And you too take good care of yourself. 🥺✨.

[hotpinkstaples]

hiiii longtime lurker ✨ here, just wanna say 1) i love poc gay fuego but anon needs to learn how to interact with ppl lmao, and they’re wild if they believe clover would let anyone nonwhite royal or otherwise be regarded so highly 😭 look at how they treat captain yami just for being poc lmao 2) always luv to see ur takes i don’t use this hellsite anymore but ur funny and quality content almost makes me wanna come back. ppl like that anon remind me why i left. ty for the laughs, fics, & memes 💕

ayyyy glad u are enjoying the clownery!!!! laughter is the greatest medicine, glad u havin a good time!

and yeah! no one said you cant have ur poc gay fuego, that’s VALID, have a good ol time with ur headcanons, but like, as you noted cool anon, some people needa learn some mcfucking boundaries and pointers on how to interact with human beings outside of a fren circle. i have no problems with people enjoying their garbage, but fandom is a free-for-all garbage can. 

AND TRULY, i am sorry the bad eggs in fandom drove you off. don’t worry, we’ll inherit the earth once again, fandom was always for the queers, the crackheads, and the intellectually insane. :D

and to the punkass hater who sent me the hatemail on anon like a coward - if you think ur shit smells nicer than mine, then maybe it’s time to delete and get a hobby that doesn’t make you froth every time someone shitposts in the tag. and maybe not go into people’s inbox talmbout how their headcanon about a fake character from some dumb animango gotchu all kinds of fucked up????? you can block and keep it movin????? but like, you didn’t, so imma assume you hatereading for fun, but i wanna letchu know that ur bitchass stanky for misusing the anon button, if you gon say shit, say it witya chest Katherine! at least do me the honor of knowing mine enemy, i wanna call ur mom a hoe to your FACE!

[rosesfromcth]

hiiii baby!!! congrats on 200 🥺💗 you deserve it and so much more 🗣💘 i love you! ❣️ can i get 🥰 & 🚣🏻‍♀️ pleaseeeee? ♥️

hi bbbbbbbb i love you

im sorry this took so long im an idiot.

sooooooo obviously i think you are calum hoods saint. i ship it even if it makes me sad that i don’t get him. but that being said you’d be too cute with him for me to deny you of that pleasure. ;)))))))

 You had a completely different idea of summer fun and relaxation as your parents had. They wanted to go on a family trip to middle of nowhere, Indiana. Normally, a family vacation would be such bad news, except for the fact that they chose the most boring city in the world, at least for you. The entire car ride was made up of them mooing as you drove past cars and playing the license plate game. They continuously tried to get you to participate but you just shook your head, plugged in your head phones and laid your head against the window to tune them out.

Now you are in the hotel, trying to avoid your parents before you have to go back up to the hotel room for the night. In hopes of finding some source of entertainment, you went down to the lobby to see what was going on. There was a pool and a gym, a small cafe/coffee shop and a activities area with a  few arcade games. The hotel hosted activities every night for the guests.Just as every other night you’d been there, the activities were no fun. So you walk to the small sitting area in the lobby and pull your phone out to call your best friend. You sit down and wait for her to answer.

She doesn’t pick up though, so you shoot her a text telling her to call you to save you from boredom. While you wait you pull up an e-book on your phone and read for a few minutes. You notice some commotion at the check-in desk and a lot of people waiting outside the hotel.  You see four tall heads peaking out of the group at the desk and figure some minor celebrity must be here to use the event center. But you choose to ignore it figuring it won’t have an impact on you. you go back to your book only to be interrupted once more by the change of your phone screen alerting you to an incoming call from your best friend.

You quickly accept the call and greet her before launching into all the boring and horrific details of the trip. Including how anytime your family interacts with a boy around your age, immediately afterwards, your mother squeals about how he was definitely interested in you, or how your dad makes the same stupid jokes every ten seconds. 

You quickly catch her up on everything and then listen to her talk about how horrible her boss is and recent developments with her longtime crush. You realize what time it is and decided you should probably start heading back to your room. You stay on the line as you head back up to your room.

“Okay, well just play it cool with him. Keep the ball in your court.” You advise, as you dig through your wallet for your room key as you walk across the lobby to the elevator.

You finally pull it out of the last slot in your wallet but it falls out of your hands along with your phone and wallet as you are bumped into. You manage to stabilize yourself before falling along with your belongings but groan internally, annoyed at whoever bumped you.

“Oh god, I am so sorry.” A deep voice says from besides you, you are able to detect a slight accent, maybe Australian. “Here, let me help you”

You barely register the man, reaching down to grab your items. “It’s fine,” you say. But the man ignores your refusal and reaches down to grab your key card and wallet as you grab your phone. 

“Hey, yeah sorry I just dropped my phone.” You say as you put the phone back to your ear. Finally, you glance at the man who bumped you and see a tall, blonde headed boy who couldn’t possible be that much older than you. All of a sudden, you are very happy that you were able to convince your parents to not come down with you. 

“Here you go.” He hands you your items over and smiles lightly at you. You realize he looks familiar.

“Crud, um, can I call you back later?” You tell your friend as you stare appreciatively back at the man in front of you.

“Yeah ok-” You cut her off before she even says goodbye. 

“Again, I am so sorry.” He tells you. “I’m Calum.”

‘It’s no problem. It happens to everyone.” Your mood flipping from the instant reaction you’d had when the incident originally occurred. “I’m Alex. Nice to meet you. What are you here for?” 

“Oh, a concert. What about you?” He asks.

“Family Fun, very exciting, we can look at fields and cows and stuff.” 

“Sounds like the vacation of a lifetime.” Calum chuckles before his attention turns behind you. “Oh, those are my mates. I guess I have to go. But I would love to buy you coffee tomorrow morning to make up for running over you basically.”

“I would like that. Meet me in the cafe at ten?” You blush.

“Perfect. Maybe we should exchange numbers just in case.” Calum suggests.

“Okay.” 

“Okay.”

---

wow sorry that was lame but um anyway, here ya are. I hope your enjoy. I am sorry it took 5 million years. I am the worst.

[bazypitchandsimonsnow]

Party in the Wavering Wood

Rating: T

Genre: Angst and Fluff

Word Count: 5427

CW: Alcohol

Summary: 15 year old Simon Snow gets an invite to a party, where his longtime crush will be. Unfortunately his longtime enemy decides to make an appearance too. Based on "spin the bottle" kiss prompt

Read on AO3

AN: So sorry this one took so long! I wrote a lot of it at 3 am, and 3 am Theo is an even shittier writer than usual. So I had to go back and redo most of it, after building up the courage to even look at my terrible handiwork. It was still fun though. Enjoy! :)

Simon

“‘Party in the Wavering Wood, 9pm, definitely not dry’?” Penny reads the invite like it’s a written in an alien language. She’s sitting cross legged on Baz’s bed (Crowley I hope he doesn’t notice) staring at the paper with her eyebrows all scrunched up. “Simon why are you showing me this?”

“Because I think we should go,” I say.

“You’re serious?”

‘Yeah! It could be fun...”

Penny looks up at me with a single raised eyebrow. “Is Agatha going to be there?”

I feel the blush creep up my cheeks. Of course Penny knows about my stupid crush. But it’s not stupid, really. I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with her since we met. And everyone already thinks we should be together. They can’t all be wrong. “She, uh, gave me the invite.”

“So you want to go for her?”

“No! Well, not just her. I mean... Pen, it’s the closest thing to a normal teenager thing we’ll ever get to do. We spend most of our time studying, and when we’re not doing that, we’re fighting a bloody super villain!” I look down and pick at my nails. “I’m 15 and I’ve never been to a single party. I just feel a bit, left out.”

I hear Penny sigh heavily. “Fine, I’ll go. But only to make sure you don’t mess up.”

I leap forward and hug Penelope fiercely. “Thank you thank you thank you!”

She pats my head. “Yeah yeah, get off me you big love sick lug. You owe me, y’know.”

“Of course!” I pull back plant a sloppy kiss on her cheek. She makes a yuck noise and shoves me off. My foot is jittering. I’m too excited and I can’t contain it. Tonight is going to be awesome!

We walk in the woods mostly blind. It's 11:00 (Penny needed to finish some homework). Branches crack under my feet, and I keep stepping on tiny stones. Penny has created a small fire but she can’t make it too big. Just in case someone sees. The Mage would certainly not approve of me being out here. But I don’t care. I’m going to a party, with alcohol, where the girl I like will be. I get to be normal for once.

“Where in Merlin’s name is this party supposed to be?” Penelope mutters.

I shrug with my hands in my pockets. “The invite did just say ‘wavering wood’.”

“That’s not exactly specific.”

“Hey I didn't write it.”

“Psst!”

We both freeze. The sound came from our left, but there’s nothing there. Penny leans towards me.

“Simon,” she whispers. “Did a tree just hiss at us or am I crazy?”

“Yes, or maybe we’re both crazy.”

“That’s not out of the realm of possibility.”

“Psst! Penelope, Simon, over here!”

We turn to look. There’s Gareth’s head... without a body. Just floating there in the darkness. To say ’m freaked out now would be an understatement. Penny firmly grabs my shoulder and sighs heavily.

“Well, it’s official, Si. We’ve lost it.”

Gareth’s head shakes. It’s, quite a site. “No no, you’re perfectly sane. It’s a magic bubble! Hides us, keeps the sound in and the bugs out, it’s perfect! C’mon, get in here.”

A opening appears. Now I can see Gareth’s whole body. It’s like he’s holding open a tent flap. I can hear thumping dance music and loud shouts. He gestures for us to come forward. Penny gives me a slightly strained smile.

“Allons-y, I guess.”

“And luckily that’s the one French word I know.”

Penny giggles as we enter.

I’m pretty sure the entire fifth year class is here. Everyone’s drinking and dancing and shouting. Someone has cast a spell to mimic multi coloured strobe lights in one end. It’s loud and completely insane. It’s awesome!

“Dear lord,” Penny mutters. “What a zoo. I can’t take this. I’m going to find a corner to read in.” She starts to walks away.

“Have fun, Pen!”

“You too, Simon. If you’re about to do anything stupid, find me!”

I roll my eyes dramatically. “Your lack of faith wounds me!”

Penelope flashes me a single “fuck off” gesture. I chuckle with a single head shake.

Honestly, I’m not sure what to do. I’ve never done this before. I just stand there, shuffling my feet and picking at my nails. Fuck, am I nervous? I’ve faced goblins, a chimera, and every sort of dark creature that the Humdrum has sent after me. And a fucking party makes me nervous.

“Simon!” My head snaps up. Agatha is running towards me. She looks a bit flushed, and she’s holding a red plastic cup.

“Hi Agatha,” I say.

She giggles drunkenly. “You came!”

“Uh, yeah. Though I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do.”

“Have fun, silly. C’mon, follow me.”

She grabs my wrist and hauls me forward. (How do I always end up getting dragged to places by people?) We end up at a card table filled with bottles. She pours some beer into a red cup like her’s.

“Here have some. It’s total shit but hey, what are you going to do?”

I chuckle nervously and sip some. Dear lord it’s disgusting. It burns my entire throat. My face gets all scrunched up. Agatha laughs with her head thrown back. “Not used to drinking, huh?”

“No,” I choke out.

She leans to the side a bit, looking past my shoulder. “Unlike your roommate, apparently. Man can he drink!”

My eyes widen and I swear to Christ my heart stops. “What?!”

I whip around. There he is. Tyrannus Basilton fucking Grimm-Pitch, chugging vodka straight from the bottle. Dev and Niall are standing next to him cheering him on. He finishes it off and throws a triumphant fist up. I’ve never seen him like this. Rumpled shirt untucked, hair completely dishevelled, and grinning ear to ear. For the first time since I met him, Baz Pitch is a complete fucking mess.

“Oh my god,” I whisper.

Agatha giggles, head falling onto my shoulder. (I'm in too much shock to acknowledge it.) “Crazy, right? He’s been drinking hard all night.”

Baz’s eyes meet mine. They widen and his mouth falls open. I can’t tell if he’s mad or shocked or... maybe terrified? But whatever it is quickly fades in favour of a drunken smile. He waves lazily at me with vodka in hand, wobbling until Niall steadies him. I lift a hand in reply.

I shake my head. “I can’t believe he’s here. And that he’s drunk. Can vampires even get drunk?”

“C’mon and dance with me!” Agatha (completely ignoring my very legitimate question) drags me again to the makeshift dance floor.

I can’t dance. At all. I know this very well. So I just flail about with my arms up. That’s how it works, right? Agatha moves more in time. I want to focus on her, but my attention is drawn to the unnaturally pale boy behind her that's jumping up and down. He’s laughing and smiling without abandon. Baz Pitch is never careless. He’s a calm, collected, perfect asshole. Seeing him like this just feels wrong. Yet it’s absolutely fascinating.

“Simon, you okay?”

I refocus on Agatha. Her eyebrows are furrowed and she’s frowning. “Oh, uh, sorry.”

She grabs my hand and my pulse jumps. “Hey, people are playing spin the bottle. Wanna go?”

My head is reeling. Merlin, what if I spin it and it lands on Agatha? Will I finally get to kiss her? Oh god, I don’t know how to deal with all this. So I just nod dumbly. Agatha smiles and we walk off.

We end up at a circle of people. Everyone’s passing a Smirnoff bottle around. There’s Trixie and Keris, Gareth and Rhys, even Philippa Stainton. She blushes at me. I know she has a crush on me. I just look away and sit with my head down.

Trixie places the now empty bottle in the centre. “Alright let’s-”

“Hey are you guys playing spin the bottle without me?! Ruuuuude!”

Baz literally stumbles to us. He plants himself right next me. I feel my magic prickle at his close proximity. A normal reaction to being near your worst enemy. Even if he is a total hot mess at the moment.

Cross legged, he leans his chin on his palm and stares at me. Strands of wavy black hair fall in front of his glassy grey eyes. Vodka smell stings my nose from his breath.

“Hiiii Siiiiimon,” he drawls out. He’s never called me Simon before. It feels weird but, kind of nice. Drunk giggly Baz is better than sober sneering Baz, I guess.

“Hello Baz.”

“Didn’t know yooooou’d be here.”

“Well, here I am. Guess you know now.” I chuckle nervously.

He smiles and hums at me. Crowley, never thought I’d make Baz Pitch smile. Didn’t think his face was even physically capable of the expression before tonight.

“Ugh,” Rhys whines. “Just spin the fucking bottle, Trix.”

Trixie blows a raspberry, but spins it anyway. I try to watch it with undivided attention. But Baz is making it difficult. I can feel his eyes on me. It makes my heart race and my palms get sweaty. He’s plotting against me, I know it. Drunk Baz is still Baz, and he’s always plotting my downfall. Why won’t he stop looking at me?!

“Simon!” Trixie’s voice snaps me out the trance.

“What?” I say stupidly.

“The bottle landed on you, silly.”

I refocus. She’s right, the bottle is on me. “Oh...”

“Well c’mon, Simon. You gotta kiss her. Those are the rules,” Gareth says.

Shit. Not the girl I want to be kissing. “Oh! Well, uh, but um... Keris would you be okay with that?”

Keris shrugs. “I don’t mind. Don’t think one boy will turn my girl straight.”

Trixie hums in approval, rubbing her nose against Keris’ cheek. “Never, love.”

I sigh. Crap, no way to get out of this. “Alright. If, those are the rules.”

Trixie crawls up on all fours. I gulp down all the nervousness in my throat. I move forward a titch and scrunch my eyes closed. Trixie’s lips press chastely against mine. I hear the whoops and hollers from everyone else. She feels warm, I guess. But that’s about it. There are no fireworks or butterflies. Not how I imagined kissing would be like.

Trixie pulls away with a smile. She giggles and goes back to her spot. Keris hugs her fiercely.

“Now you can say you snogged the Chosen One, darling!” she squeals

That sends Trixie into a fit of giggles, followed by some of the others. The only ones not laughing are Philippa (who’s pouting) and surprisingly Baz. His eyebrows are pulled together and he’s scowling. I’m (kinda) having fun, which must be upsetting him. Does he want me to be miserable that much?

“Alright Simon,” Keris says, “your turn. Spin away, Chosen One.”

With a shaking hand, I spin the glass bottle. I watch it spin and spin and just pray to any god that will listen that it’ll land on Agatha. I want to feel the fireworks kiss, and I really think I can feel that with Agatha.

It stops... right next to me. Where Baz is sitting.

Everyone shrieks. I’m slack jawed. Merlin and Morgana, Nicks and slicks, fuck me! I have the worst luck in the world. I turn to Baz. He has a similar horrified shocked expression. But his eyes look sort of scared. Scared? Why would he be scared? He should be pissed off or disgusted. I should be terrified. He’s the vampire! What’s he got to be scared about from me?!

“C’mon Simon!” Keris yells. “You know the rules!”

“Oh, but he’s- he’s a bloke!”

Keris raises an eyebrow “So? Got something against a bloke kissing another bloke?”

I shake my head violently and wave my hands. “No! No, well, he’s... he’s Baz!”

“Oh c’mon Simon!” Gareth says. “Put your stupid feud aside for just a second. Rhys and I already hear enough of your shouting through our ceiling. C’mooooon! Kiss, kiss, kiss!”

Everyone joins in. Even Agatha and Philippa. (Drunk people are idiots.) They pound on the ground in sync. I turn to Baz. He’s looking at me wide eyed with his mouth open. His drunk gaze flicks down to my lips then back up to my eyes. He smiles wide, showing all his teeth.

“Well,” he slurs out, “if they insist.”

Baz grabs both sides of my face and plants a kiss square on my mouth.

They cheer again even louder. Baz’s grip is very strong (of course it is, he’s a vampire). My arms flail out, unsure what to do with them. Unlike Trixie, Baz is participating fully. He moves his lips against mine. His are colder than Trixie's but just as soft. (Maybe even more so.) He shifts his hands back to grip my hair, which shoves me closer. I can feel his tongue sloppily pushing against my closed mouth. My stomach is doing flip flops. And my head kinda feels, sparky, bursting, on fire. Like... fireworks.

Carefully, I grab his collar and cautiously open my mouth. I feel the tip of his tongue trace my teeth and I inhale sharply. If before was fireworks, then a fucking nuclear explosion goes off in my brain. It’s like going off, but in a good way. I grip his collar tighter. Baz pulls on my hair slightly, and I honest to god moan into his mouth. It feels so damn good. What am I doing?! I’m kissing a bloke, I’m kissing Baz!

“Whooo boys simmer down!” Keris shouts.

I pull away, still holding onto Baz. He blinks slowly. His lips are a bit pink and swollen. I guess mine must look similar. He smiles and laughs like only a drunk person could. Crowley what did we just do? I flick my eyes around the circle. Everyone looks more than uncomfortable. Agatha is taking great interest in her drink. I cough awkwardly.

“I guess, uh, we’ve both had too much to drink. I think we should go back to our room,” I say quickly.

Everyone nods and murmurs in agreement. I grab Baz’s arm and haul him up. He wobbles until I throw his arm around my shoulder. He leans his against me, head resting on mine. I start dragging him away. I think he’s snuggling against me. God what a weird night this has been.

Dragging Basilton Pitch is not exactly an easy task. He hit a growth spurt this summer and stands at least three inches above me now. Plus he’s heavy for such a lanky guy. It makes dragging him through a dark wooded area very difficult. Magically lowering the drawbridge isn’t too hard (Penny taught me how.) (Takes a few tries though.) I’m currently hauling the drunk git up the stairs to the top of Mummer’s House.

“C’mon Pitch, up the steps. It’s not that hard.”

“Noooo,” he whines. “Don’t wanna go.”

“Shut up, you need to sleep.”

He groans loudly. “Wanna stay with you. Want you to keep holding me.”

I stop as we hit the landing, slowly turning my head to look at him. He’s pouting like a sad puppy or something. “What on earth are you talking about? You hate me.”

He shakes his head lazily. “Nu-uh. S’pose to hate you. Don’t. You’re too pretty to hate.”

My heart is thumping again. What is he going on about? “You- You think I’m pretty?”

“Soooo pretty. All I think ‘bout. Pretty hair, and eyes, and moles. Can’t stop thinking. Makes my head go all mopsy curvy.” He chuckles at his own messed up words.

I think my head is going “mopsy curvy”. All of this is hitting me like a pound of bricks. It’s a miracle I’m still upright. “Baz, you’re talking nonsense. You’re drunk.”

He groans and leans his long nose into my neck. I inhale sharply. He’s so cold, but it feels nice. “Drunk cause of you. Didn’t want to think of you fer once.” His forehead falls to my shoulder. I feel another groan vibrate through me. “Should hate you. Hate me f’not hating you.”

I’m not sure how I’m supposed to respond to that. My head is spinning, along with my vision and stomach. My brain is trying to realign to this information. Baz doesn’t hate me? He can’t stop thinking about me? I mean, I can’t stop thinking about him either. But that’s because I’m scared he’s plotting against me! Or that he’s going to drink my blood! It’s not like I’m thinking about his stupid smug smile, or his perfect flawless skin, or his mesmerising grey eyes, or how his hair falls like a lazy wave in front of his face, or-

Oh. Shit.

I look down at him, drunk and dishevelled. He’s rubbing against my sweater like an affectionate cat. I swear to Merlin he’s almost purring. He doesn’t look like a villain, or a monster. Just... a boy. A stupidly handsome, obviously tortured boy, filled with so much self loathing he literally tried to drink his own feelings away. I haul him closer again.

“C’mon, Baz,” I whisper, “you need some sleep.”

He smiles up at me softly. “Okay, Simon.”

We get up the rest of the stairs and reach our room. I lead Baz to his until he literally collapses face first onto his bed. His cheek is all squished against the blanket.

“You really can’t sleep like that, Baz,” I say.

Baz moans. “Can do what I want, Snow.”

I sigh. Even completely pissed he’s still as stubborn as anything. I grab his feet and swing them around onto the mattress, then I haul him forward so his head is on the pillow. He snuggles into it. I kneel down so I can see his face. He’s smiling like he doesn’t have a care in world. Cautiously, I reach out and brush some raven hair from his closed eyes. He sighs, opening them slightly, a sliver of grey under heavy lids.

“Really not hate you, Simon,” he whispers, “think I love you...”

I don’t have time to answer that. He immediately falls asleep, snoring softly. My hand is frozen over his face. I'm surprised my body hasn't imploded by this point. All the feelings in me are fighting for dominance in my mind. Emotions old and new clash with what I thought I knew and what I know now. It's like a bubbling lava pit in volcano ready to explode and destroy everything around it. It feels like I’m about to go off, but solely in my rapidly beating heart.

I can't handle this now. So I brush my knuckles against Baz's face one last time, place the waste basket near him, and get ready for bed. When I curl in the sheets, I face Baz. I can't take my eyes off him. So that's how I fall asleep. Watching Baz Pitch, but for once, it’s not in a fearful way. It’s a mix of feelings I don’t fully understand yet. I’ll sort them out later. Not tonight. For now I just need to sleep.

I hear the retching long before I see it. Guess the waste basket was the right call. Baz hangs over it, black hair like a curtain around his face. I sit up slowly, bringing my knees to my chest. When Baz is done, he looks up at me with bloodshot eyes and a slight scowl.

“What are you looking at, Snow?” he growls.

I shrug. “You, obviously.”

“Well stop gawking. I’m just sick. Probably the flu.”

“More like hung over.”

He groans and falls back on his bed. “Fuck that’s right. You were at the party, weren’t you? Did you drag me up here?”

“Yeah. It wasn’t easy.”

His brow furrows in confusion. It’s an expression I’m used to seeing, but usually it appears when I say something supremely stupid, so I hate it. But thinking about it, he sorta looks, cute. “Why would you do that, Snow?”

I shrug again, burying my cheeks in my knees to hide any blush that might appear. “I don’t know. You were... doing bad. So I helped. Like I’m s’pose to. Hero and all...”

His face soft for a brief millisecond, but it quickly turns into a sneer as he faces me. It’s less intimidating than usual, considering his state of disheveledness (and what he said last night.) “Did you bang my head against every wall on the way up? Because I think my brain is trying to pound out of my skull now.”

I shake my head a bit. “No, I think that’s just from the vodka.”

“Aleister fucking Crowley.” He runs a hand over his face, pulling on his jaw. I can see pain in his eyes. Now I can’t tell if it’s from the migraine or from what he feels. “Whatever. I’m taking the shower first. Don’t try to stop me.”

He swings his long legs off the bed and stumbles towards our bathroom. The lava is bubbling again. The going-off-in-my-heart sensation. I reach out my arm towards him.

“Baz, wait!”

He whips around at me from the doorway with a scowl. “What the fuck is it, Snow?”

My hands falls along with my resolve. “How, how much do you remember from last night?”

Baz groans and rubs his forehead. “A lot of drinking, a lot of dancing, and more drinking. The rest is blurry. I remember your stupid face a bit. Why? Going to make fun of me, hm?”

"No! No, just... wondering.”

“Fine. Thanks for wasting my time.”

He slams the door hard enough to make the walls shake. I wince slightly. Nothing has changed for him. He doesn’t remember, but I can’t forget. I curl up in a ball on my bed and listen to the soft sound of the shower. It’s comforting in a way. Sounds kinda like rain. I focus on the water, instead of Baz last night. Baz’s smile, his laugh, his dancing, his babbling, his lips, his tongue-

I bang the side of my head. Stupid brain. Never listens to me! I chew at my nails. They’re stubs already but I don’t care. I need to focus on something else other than the conflicting emotions in my head. Because when I think about Baz, my heart stutters out of control, my palms get sweaty, and my head spins. I’ve always felt that around him, but I thought it was fear. That’s what it’s supposed to be, right? I’m supposed to be afraid of the son of my mentor’s enemy. I’m supposed to be his enemy. All these things I’m feeling for Baz now, I’m supposed to feel for Agatha.

I’m getting tired of “supposed to”.

The water turns off. Baz steps out of the shower a few moments later. I peek over my shoulder. Crowley, he’s wearing nothing but a towel. Drops of water slide down his bare chest and stomach. He really did grow a lot this summer. He’s like a long, thin marble statue.

“Avert your eyes,” he growls.

I curl away, hiding the red on my face. I hear him shuffle around then walk back into the bathroom. He re emerges minutes later in a pair of red silk pyjamas. He collapses on his mattress with a loud groan. His back is to me as usual. Slowly, I sit cross legged on my bed, looking at my nails.

He groans again. “What is it? I can feel your stupid eyes on me.”

There goes my pounding heart again. “Um, well, the thing is, last night, you, uh-”

“Spit it out Snow!”

“You kissed me last night!”

Every muscle in Baz’s body freezes. I think he even stops breathing. The only sound is the wind blowing through the trees outside. When he speaks, it’s barely a whisper.

“What?”

I pick at my nails furiously. “A bunch of us were playing spin the bottle. And I- I guess you were really pissed so you decided to join. Trixie spun and it landed on me. Then I spun and it landed on you. I wasn’t gonna do it, but then you grabbed me and... kissed me. Like, a lot...”

Baz shudders. I wish I could see his face. I’m too scared to reach out to him.

“Um, well, I dragged you back after. And you were drunkenly babbling and shit. You said... you said you didn’t actually hate me. That... you think I’m pretty, and you think you lo-”

“Stop!”

Baz’s voice is thunder in the small room. He bolts upright and whips around. His teeth are grinding together, face all scrunched up, eyes furious and maybe a bit scared. I can see tears building up, but he’s too stubborn to let them fall. I watch his hands clench and unclench the sheets. Slowly, he lets out a shaky breath.

“Stop, talking, you idiot.”

“But-”

“Not buts! I don’t want to hear about how I made a complete fool of myself. Don’t you see? This was exactly what I wanted to avoid!”

“I know-”

“Exactly! You know! Now you can go tell your precious Mage I’m a vampire and a filthy pervert. Happy now?! You’ve got what you wanted, another thing to use against me! Just fucking kill me now like you’re supposed to! It’d be easier! You-”

“Baz, just shut up! I kissed you back, asshole!”

Baz freezes. Tears streak down his face. Grey eyes stare back at me with shock and awe. “What?”

I lay my head in my hands, just breathing slowly. “When you kissed me, I kissed back. Because it felt great. It felt fan-fucking-tastic! T-That’s all I could think about. No stupid Magickal world bullshit in my head for once. It was amazing.” I rub my eyes with the heels of my palms. “A-And I’ve always thought I hated you cause that’s how I’m supposed to feel but I’m fucking sick of doing what I’m supposed to! I don’t want to do what everyone expects of me. I just want to do what I want!”

I focus on the swimming colours behind my eyelids. I’m a total ball of nerves. Long fingers wrap around mine, slowly peeling them away from my eyes. Baz is kneeling in front of me. He looks soft, sympathetic. Like he understands what I’m saying. I guess he does.

“And what do you want, Simon?” he asks under his breath.

“I, I want to make my own descisions. I want to be normal for once. And...” I reach out towards his face. “I want to kiss you again.��

Baz grabs my outstretched hand. For a second I think he’s going to shove me away. Make fun of me, say it was all some plot to humiliate me. But instead, he laces our fingers together one by one, and presses them to his chest. I can feel his heart, beating just as wildly as mine.

“Yes,” he says.

My fingers clench. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, you can kiss me again.”

I let out a sigh of relief. We lean forward, eyes fluttering shut. And for the second time in my life, I’m kissing Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch.

It’s not messy like last night. It’s chaste and awkward, like a kiss between two emotionally repressed fifteen year olds usually is. But he’s still cold and soft. He’s still Baz. He moves a hand to hold my neck. I hold his shoulder. Slowly, our lips start to move, a repeat of before, but more careful. Baz’s nails lightly scrape against my skin. This time, I push my tongue against his mouth. He gasps, but opens to me. For a boy so cold on the outside he’s warm within. I trace the inside of his cheek, digging my nails into his arm and moving even closer.

This seems to kick Baz into high gear. He shoves back with his whole mouth, tangling a thin hand in my hair. It feels like ten nuclear bombs in my brain mixed with drowning in happiness. I let go of his hands, wrapping both arms around his neck until we’re crushed together. And I know now that I want this, more than anything. To just be with Baz. To kiss him like we’re the only two people in the world. No prophecy, no war, no animosity. Just... this.

We break apart gasping. Baz’s eyes flutter open. He looks ragged and raw and gorgeous. I run my fingers up and down his spine as we breath.

“Wow,” he huffs out.

I chuckle. “Yeah...”

“Was it like that last night?”

“Pretty close. Except you were sloppy drunk.”

He groans and hangs his head. “Crowley, I will forever hate myself for not remembering that first kiss.”

I knock his chin up until our eyes meet, then tuck a piece of long black hair behind his pointed ear. “Don’t. I’ll just make sure you remember every one after”

With that, I pull Baz into another crushing, hopefully very memorable kiss.

After, we lay on my bed, side by side, breathless and smiling. Baz cups my face, running a thumb over my cheek. He pays special attention to the mole there. Every time he touches it he lingers. I move my fingers up and down his side. His silk pyjamas feel lovely. But I’m really more happy just to touch him.

“Part of me still can’t believe I just snogged you,” I whisper.

Baz chuckles. “You kissed me, Snow.”

I chuckle too. He’s got a point. “I know. I guess I’m still wrapping my head around the idea that I want to. Kiss you, that is.”

“So am I.” He stops running his thumb and clutches my jaw a bit tighter. “I-I thought there was something wrong with me. For wanting you. Thought it was just my fucked up psyche. Like desiring the sword that’s going to land in your chest.”

I clench the fabric of his top. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Baz. Absolutely nothing. You’re not evil or fucked up. You’re just... you. And I like you a lot.”

The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Since when?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. Awhile. I thought I hated you cause everyone said I should. Thought you were an evil monster. But I don’t and you’re not. Not really, I think. I mean, you’re smug and infuriating, but in a... cool way?”

“Eloquent as ever, Snow.” Usually I’d be mad at such a comment, but the way Baz rolls his eyes over dramatically and smirks tells me I don’t need to be. But I still poke his side, making him spasm a bit.

“Prat,” I mutter. “Whatever. Since when do you like me? Or was pushing me down the stairs and unleashing a chimera your ways of flirting?”

Baz flicks my nose. I giggle. “I told you the stairs were an accident, you prick. And that chimera was just meant to freak you out a bit.” His face becomes serious. But in a sort of, worried and scared way. “Which... I’m sorry about. I was angry at myself and took it out on you. I’m not sure how long I’ve cared about you. I think for awhile. But I’ve only let myself acknowledge it recently. Fuck, part of me is still coming to terms with the fact that I’m gay.” His brow furrows together. “Are you gay?”

I shrug (I really do that a lot, don’t I?) “I don’t think so. I mean, maybe I am, at least partly, the part that seems to be demanding the most attention right now.” I take a deep breath. “I don’t know. All I know is that I like this, I like you. I don’t give a shit about anything else.”

Baz pulls me closer, until his chin is resting on my head. I grip his shirt and inhale his scent. Cedar and bergamot. I never thought someone’s smell could be so comforting.

“There’s still a lot of shit to deal with, Simon,” he whispers.

He’s right. There’s his family, the brewing war, the Mage, the Humdrum, his vampirism (maybe I should ask him about that later), my explosive magic, everything. But right now I just want to hold him. Pretend nothing exists outside of his arms. That we’re merely two normal boys without grand destinies or blood feuds. That we can have this without problem.

“I know,” I mumble into his chest. “But we’ll figure it out, right?”

His cold lips kiss my hairline. I hold him tighter. “Yes, we will, Simon. We certainly will.”

Bonus epilogue: Penny: Where the hell did you go last night, Simon?! You left me alone you prick! Did you just have to sneak off to snog Agatha or something? Simon: ...about that...

AN: So this is pretty much the "if Simon and Baz stopped being so emotionally repressed in fifth year" AU, lol. Well, this was fun to write. Mixing angst and fluff keeps fanfic writers sharp. Poor kids with their complicated feelings. Personally, as a soulless black hearted emo, I don't relate. But I tried to emulate the struggle as best as possible.  Hope y'all liked it! :D

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