#i checked the word count on ao3 cuz i was curious

[ghost-of-you]

Me: *feels guilty because I haven't moved at all with wjdbieo since i last posted*

Ao3 word count: 56k

My doc word count: 90k

Me: okay maybe it did move

[brainshock-alpha]

a while ago i was tagged by @go-go-devil to answer twenty fic writers' questions... i've been preddy busy so i'm just getting around to it now lol. thanks for thinking of me velvet!

this turned out quite long so i'm gonna do my tags up here -- @boyfrillish @pastryglitch @firethekitty -- as usual participation is voluntary, tagged or not :) do these q's if u think it would be fun. that's all

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

35 (includes users-only works)

2. What is your AO3 wordcount?

146,365, for an average of ~4,182 words per work. but really, it's just like four of my long multichapter works skewing the average that high.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

in a strict present-tense sense, it's just pokemon. i've written for a slightly odd variety of fandoms in the past; anyone curious enough to check will readily observe that i go through fandoms in neatly stratified phases lol. i don't tend to be actively involved in more than one at a time.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Black Box Open (st*rdew valley) - 373

Transfer Point (pokemon bw) - 279

Vital Signs (biosh*ck infinite) - 146

Tidal Lock (hylis) - 107

Moonstruck (hylis) - 93

censoring fandoms so i don't appear in searches (excepting pokemon cuz i'm pretty sure those results are basically unreadable lol). anyway i can't believe vital signs is that high up there lmaooo but everything else seems reasonable

5. Do you respond to comments?

i try to but sometimes it slips my mind and then it's too late to reply without it being weird :( whether i got around to replying or not, i'm grateful to everyone who said sth nice on my stuff 🙏

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

uhhhh honestly i don't get super angsty with my fics, especially not the endings lol. simpley not my style... i guess transfer point ended on a rather bittersweet note. born with a weak heart would have been even more so, if i'd ever finished it.

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

on the other hand i also don't write fics with particularly saccharine endings either. it's kinda just, oh this is pleasant/cute/hopeful :) i wouldn't say there's a clear winner.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

so far, any haters have kept their thoughts to themselves, which is good. i suppose my writing is usually quite benign anyway lol

9. Do you write smut? If so, which kind?

i have a few unfinished drafts lying around but i've never published anything. (unless you count that one with piers/emmet? it's nsfw for sure but i think you'd be setting the wrong expectations if u called it smut lol.) anyway i'm not terribly interested in going into detail here.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest crossover you’ve ever written?

again, i've attempted to draft some in the past but never got close to finishing any of them. i think i'm more likely to draw a weird crossover than write one :p

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not to my knowledge.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

i've uhhhh translated my own fic once??? i guess that counts but i wouldn't say i did a good job LOL -- i'd written a supershort 200-word thing in both english and scots, and i haven't studied scots all that extensively. but it was fun to try, and somehow the scots version got more attention than the english one lol

anyway, if anyone's ever interested in translating my works, feel free to reach out! i'd be happy to help out by answering questions/clarifying meaning/etc :)

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

nop! it's not really something i've ever considered, but i suppose in theory i'd be open to trying it.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

god i can't give just one answer to an all-time favorite anything LOL. uhhh deduswayne still has a special place in my heart; the autistic jock/autistic nerd dynamic i gave them was so fresh and fun to me... i love raileon despite not ever really writing it ooooops... and then griebold is my newest interest, which is quite funny since raileon is one of the most popular pokemon ships on ao3 but griebold is so unheard of that i'm literally the only person to have posted an english-language work for it there lmfao

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

probably... the bede&hop post-canon qpr fic... i really would love to write a qpr (as well as non-romantic relationship drama in general) but it's another sprawling multichapter thing and idk if i have it in me :^(

16. What are your writing strengths?

dialogue and character dynamics hehe... that's what's most fun for me to write too. i also like to believe i'm good at writing a ship without losing sight of the individual chars involved. and i'm pretty good with spelling and grammar, contrary to what my casual fucking around on tumblr posts may imply LOL. i may not always write in the clearest or most beautiful way, but by god that syntax is solid

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

description lol. i am not a poet by any means; i think it will not surprise anyone to know i did better in linguistics classes than in english.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

do it if 1) you're able to put in the effort and 2) it makes sense to do it. on point 1, i don't think there's anything wrong with saying that chars are speaking in another language but rendering the actual written dialogue in english (or whatever ur mother tongue may be), especially if it's not a language ur fluent in. of course it's good to do research for ur writing but language learning is hard, doubly so if ur trying to write those chars speaking casually. cuz you can't really pick that up from reference texts, or maybe you can but it comes out sounding odd and unnatural. (think of how easy it is to mess up english slang/colloquialisms.) BUT you know, perfect is the enemy of good, and if ur willing to give it the ol college try then i really think it'll help ur foreign-lang-speaking chars feel more alive.

on point 2, i'm mostly thinking of the context of multilingual chars, which adds another layer of complexity. this old post will give u an idea of what i mean. if you're monolingual and mostly only interact with other monolinguals, you may find it difficult to write bilinguals believably. i suggest looking up info on code-switching and, more generally, language learning and bilingualism. (and also heritage languages, which fall under bilingualism but have their own specific features.) again, this is pretty demanding stuff and i wouldn't blame you for just sticking to english dialogue, but i do think it's worth a shot.

have i tried this myself? yes, most prominently in the day to end all days, and also a bit in my other swsh fics... oh yeah, i guess i also made siebold use quebec french swears lol. mind you, i'm under no illusion that i write it well. no one has told me yet that i'm fucking it up, but also no one's told me i'm doing a good job either lol. so idkkkkk

19. First fandom you wrote for?

st*rdew valley... i loved that game so much that it motivated me to start making fanfics and fanart haha. i started posting black box open about eight years ago, which if you'll recall is the fic i have the most kudos on. it was all downhill from there buddy!!!!!!!!!!! lol i'm just kidding, i really just tend not to write for popular fandoms is the thing (or when a fandom is at its most popular)

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

honestly it's usually just Whichever Fic I Posted Most Recently lmao. i guess that's not bad, that means i feel like i improve with every story or w/e. i'm still really attached to the day to end all days, though. it's not finished yet (and won't be for quite some time) but it has the most involved plot yet out of all my fics, and it explores some really interesting character spaces too.

[ratmonky]

Sweet Blossoms

this is a commission, my friend put a gun against my head to write this and I didn’t get to write any of my own ideas so you don’t tell me it sucked cuz i already know it did lol

Word Count: 4.8K

Warnings: unhealthy relationship, cheating, vanilla *bleh*

AO3 Link

There was no way he could know what kind of flowers you liked so he had left you all sorts of kinds.

You crouched down and took the flower bouquet in your arms, looking around to see who had left them but you couldn’t see him when he was that far into the darkness. With the prettiest smile on your lips, you inhaled the sweet fragrances of different flowers all at once. It almost made you dizzy because of how strong each flower's aroma was.

Carefully walking back inside the apartment, you started looking for the note the cheap supermarket flowers usually came with. While you were handling the flowers, the note slipped and fell onto the floor, right where your boyfriend was standing.

“This again?” he sighed, taking the note. He opened the note shamelessly, reading it out loud. “(name), as pretty as these flowers are, they are nothing compared to your beauty. I hope you’re staying healthy and safe.” He flipped the note to see if there was more to it but when he realized there wasn’t, he tore it apart. “Sounds like a creep.”

“Don’t say that.” You frowned, watching the note get destroyed. “They are harmless.”

“No sane man would leave flowers for some college girl living with her boyfriend. He’s probably still out there rubbing one off.” He leaned to the wall. “I would,” he added with a smirk.

“Stop being vulgar.”

“You say that while wearing things like that. You look for attention as if I’m not giving ya enough.” His words made you look down at your outfit. It was just a sundress.

“You’re overreacting,” your voice was fainter than a whisper.

“Don’t play the victim now. If it weren’t for me, you’d be sucking someone off for money to afford to live in a smaller apartment than this. Maybe you’d join those hookers in the kabuki district if I stopped giving you attention, huh?”

Legs shaking, you pressed the bouquet of flowers to your chest. There wasn’t anything you could or wanted to say to him. He was being mean but he was right. Maybe you had to stop dressing up like this. If it weren’t for him you wouldn’t be able to afford your major or rent. Your boyfriend was paying for the rent while you continued studying and worked to save money to pay off your student loan.

“Never forget that you wouldn’t be shit without me.”

You rapidly nodded, avoiding making him any more upset.

“Good,” he sighed and put his hands on his hips. “Now, go wipe your face, you look like a clown.”

Your hand went to your cheek to feel your makeup over your skin. It was still smooth, not cakey at all but from the way he said it, perhaps it looked worse than you thought.

“Okay.”

Walking past him, you slipped the small piece of paper in your dress’s pocket without him noticing. You put the flowers in a vase before placing them next to the old ones. This wasn’t the first time you had received flowers from your secret admirer and you hoped it wouldn’t be the last time.

Back in your room, hastily you took out the small paper and grinned when a movie ticket greeted you.

~~~

There hadn’t been a time in your life where you put this much effort into how you were going to look like to go out.

Your boyfriend often didn’t like it when you dressed up or put on makeup, he usually made comments on how you looked that made you feel bad about your appearance. Although you knew he loved you, it hurt your confidence. His words affected you in ways you couldn’t describe.

It was one of the reasons why you were conscious of your appearance right now and why you kept tugging your skirt down, worried that you might be showing too much skin. You wouldn’t put your small compact mirror down either, you kept checking on your makeup.

Everyone was looking at you. Thinking that you’re a slut.

At least that was what your mind was telling you. No, that was something your boyfriend would say.

While trying to ignore your own thoughts, you walked up to the employee behind the counter and showed them your ticket to enter the movie theatre. They told you your ticket’s arranged seat number and you saw from the computer screen that the seat beside yours was occupied.

You took a deep breath to calm your senses. The only reason you were here was because of how curious you were, nothing else. You had been getting flowers every Friday for longer than a year now and not knowing the identity of your secret admirer was eating you up.

I’m only gonna take a peek, you promised yourself and walked inside the theatre. If it turned out to be a creep like your boyfriend kept telling you about, then you could just walk away. This was a public space so there was no need to feel anxious about what could happen.

It took you a long moment to find your seat at the furthest back row and get comfortable on the soft cushions. The place wasn’t empty but it wasn’t full of people either, yet the row you had your seat on was completely free.

Each passing minute was unbearable even when you were trying to busy your mind with your phone but nevertheless failed to notice it when someone took a seat next to you.

By the time you looked up, there was a familiar face sitting next to you.

“Junpei!” you gasped, he always managed to sneak up on people since his presence went unnoticed.

He couldn’t meet your gaze, “Hi, it’s been a while huh?”

“Yeahh,” you went on to say before looking around, the trailers were about to start since the lights dimmed, your secret admirer was nowhere to be seen. “Umm, you see, I’m glad to see you here but I’m waiting for someone, this seat is taken.”

His adam’s apple moved as he gulped, there was a sweat droplet that drizzled down from his cheek to his neck.

Your eyes then landed on his lap. He was holding a single rose in his hand, the flower shook in his grasp.

“Oh.” It dawned on you. “Okay.”

Junpei held the flower out for you to take but still averted his gaze from yours. Slowly, you took the rose from him and lifted it up to your nose, inhaling the sweet aroma.

“You can leave,” he whispered, trying not to break the unwritten rule of a movie theater. “I won’t judge.”

He had noticed how disappointed you looked when you found out it was him who had been leaving you those flowers, he wasn’t the aggressive type to force you to sit down with him like this. Entrapping you and making you feel uncomfortable was the last thing he wanted to do.

“Why?” you whispered back.

“You looked disappointed.”

You snorted, “I was surprised to find out my next-door neighbor and dropout classmate was my secret admirer.”

Someone shushed.

Trying to stifle your giggling, you continued. “You could’ve just asked me out normally.”

His cheeks flushed deep red and he finally met your eyes. “You have a boyfriend.”

You got quiet, “Yeah.”

I have a boyfriend. I have a boyfriend but I came here to meet my secret admirer. Why?

Perhaps it was because you wanted to feel validated. The poems you got with the flowers, at least the ones you managed to hide were special to you. Whenever you doubted yourself, rereading the poems gave you the confidence you lacked.

The movie started.

Junpei was fidgeting with his fingers, no matter how much he tried he couldn’t focus on the movie. He had been wanting to see this one since it came out, the hype around the release of this movie and the reviews he had read made him more excited than ever, yet… Since you were here, his thoughts were full of you.

From the corner of his eye, he could see that you were staring at the silver screen but your expression was blank as if you weren’t paying any attention either.

He opened his mouth to say something but a scream coming from the female lead interrupted him. His attention involuntarily directed itself to the screen and soon, he sort of got invested in the storyline as you were having an internal debate with yourself.

There was an exciting scene that had him gripping to the sides of his seat, he was about to comment on the scene when he turned to face you but you were already looking at him, blushing.

Junpei didn’t understand the reason why you were blushing until he looked down. In the heat of the moment, he had placed his hand on top of yours on the seat’s cup holder.

A blush matching yours spread on his face and neck, he apologized before proceeding to lift his hand but you prevented him from pulling away by holding his hand.

Then, you intertwined your fingers together with his while scooting closer to the edge of your seat to close the distance between the two of you.

In that quiet moment of your hand tightly holding his own, Junpei started nodding as if he understood something and returned his attention to the screen.

He couldn’t focus on the rest of the movie, rather he focused on how warm your hand was or how sweaty his palm was.

Your head softly leaned on his tense shoulder. A wave of panic made Junpei’s eye look at you if you had died because -why else would you put your head on his shoulder? Yet, you were very much alive and you were still holding his hand tightly. He didn’t dare to move, not sure what exactly to do either.

Whether it be the most rational thing that came up to his mind or his own curiosity on how it felt, he tilted his head until his cheek pressed against your hair. Your warmth was enough to warm his heart, it gave him the comfort he had thought he would never get. The delicious smell of your shampoo invaded his nostrils almost instantly, a genuine smile spread on his face as you continued leaning on him.

“Why did you leave those flowers?”

The question was sudden.

“Because I… I have feelings for you.” His voice was quieter than a whisper out of consideration to not interrupt other people’s enjoyment of the movie.

“Why?”

“Why?” he echoed, thinking what to answer. There were too many reasons why. He couldn’t come up with just one. “Because you’re you.”

“What does that mean?” You lifted your head up to look at him.

“Well, it means that I like…” Geez, it was hard to say it out loud when you were looking. His cheeks were burning up and his eye was looking at everything but yours. “You’re beautiful and considerate. You care about others and you’re selfless. I guess I like you because you were kind to me back in high school.” The memory brought a smile to his complexion, you two were in the same film appreciation club in the past and were close friends if not best friends. “You’re not scared to be yourself. You always know what you want in life. I always wanted to be like you or rather be with you, kinda like adornment with a dash of being in love with you... I guess.”

Was he really describing you or some idea he had about you?

There was no way of knowing. You didn’t know who you were anymore. Not after you started dating your boyfriend.

If you had asked your boyfriend to describe you, what would he say?

Nevermind, you didn’t want to know.

“Hey,” Junpei called in a panicked voice, someone in the audience shushed again. “Are you alright? Did I say something wrong?”

You shook your head, tightening your hand around his while your eyes sparkled with gratitude. It made you look so kissable, your lips being parted slightly only made the thought a lot more irresistible.

Junpei’s face leaned closer to yours, he was moving hesitantly and slowly, waiting for your reaction. Instead of moving away, you were just staring at him but he felt like he was forcing you again.

Wanting you to make the decision, he stopped himself and closed his eyes, brows furrowing as his anxiety was eating him up. His heart hammered through his chest and he waited and waited and waited until something soft pressed on his lips.

He peeked with one eye to look at your face, the view made his heart skip a beat. Your eyes were closed, eyelashes fluttering as your glossy lips moved against his own. Having not much experience, he followed your lead, parting his lips and mirroring the way you moved yours, ignoring how wildly his body shook from excitement.

You tasted as sweet as you looked, your perfume filled his lungs and made his head spin. He was being conscious about a lot of things as your hand that was holding him moved to his shoulder and then to his neck to card your fingers through the short strands.

He could feel your warmth through your lips better than when he held your hand. He experimentally snaked his tongue inside your mouth to get a better glimpse of how you actually tasted.

Almost immediately, you opened your mouth to allow him entrance, letting his tongue hesitantly move along with yours. Teeth clashed once or twice but it did nothing other than making you giggle into the kiss.

His hand went to your cheek to caress it and pull your face closer until he could get a better angle to kiss you. There was something so endearing about the way he touched you, his touch was gentle, loving even. Something you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Once he pulled himself back, the small wet strands connecting your lips together thinned and broke apart.

Junpei was completely red and you knew you weren’t any different. His lips were swollen and pink, eyes full of admiration as he was looking at you. He was cherishing this moment.

The lights turned on, ruining the mood.

Both of you flinched and jumped back on your seats, unaware how you were practically on his lap before. It was kind of comedic, nobody would have cared if they saw two people being lovey-dovey in the back row of a theatre since it was something common yet both of you were acting like two young lovers who had been busted by their parents.

The awkwardness went away only after you exited the theater, holding Junpei’s hand.

“Your dress is really pretty,” he said to break the silence as you were walking down the street.

“Thanks, it has pockets,” you chirped, putting your free hand inside the small pocket to show it to him. “This is my favorite dress!”

“Cute,” he chuckled. His cheeks were still faintly blushed red but not as visible as before. Although his mind was clouded by many things and what was going to happen next, he didn’t dare to say anything that could ruin your smile. Not only because you looked gorgeous with a smile on your face but also because he knew you needed it.

“Junpei.”

“Hmm?”

“Wanna stop by somewhere?”

“Like for dinner? Sure, although I’m not hungry, I can watch you eat.”

“No,” you uttered, pointing towards somewhere.

Junpei’s eye followed where you were pointing your finger and his mouth gaped, cheeks flushing bright red instantaneously. He looked at you to see that you were blushing as well.

“It’s okay if you don’t wanna.” You were regretting making the suggestion.

“No, I wanna, definitely, yes, go.” He had to take a deep breath to calm himself before saying something that made sense. “You asked too suddenly.”

Nonetheless, you were the embarrassed one. He had to swallow down his own embarrassment to sheepishly drag you across the street and into the red light district. The hotel you had been pointing at had a large neon sign that read some nonsense like ‘secret getaway’ on it. You wondered if it was the absurdity of the sign or the situation which made you point at this specific hotel.

In front of the entrance, he hesitated walking inside.

“I can pay,” you said, mistaking the reason why he was hesitating.

“You don’t need to, I was just… thinking.” He was blushing again, how was he going to say this. He didn’t dare to say it out loud. Ugh, he had to. “I-I d-don’t have a condom with me.”

“I think they might sell some inside,” you hummed before getting on your tiptoes to whisper, “You don’t need one anyway.”

This time, his blood rushed south.

Your eyes landed on the not-so-small problem and softly giggled. “I guess I have to check us in, huh?”

“Please…” He used a hand to cover his face in embarrassment. “Don’t tease me about this.”

“I’ll try not to,” you said, pulling him inside the hotel, he quickly pulled his shirt down to cover the front of his pants. The reception was quiet, you chose a room that was the cheapest and got your room key from the receptionist.

Junpei let go of your hand to dive it in his pocket to fish out his wallet to pay for the room but you stopped him. He looked at you in question and you shook your head, retaking his hand. “We’ll pay when we’re leaving since we’re paying by the hour.”

He hadn’t realized how uninformed he was about this sort of stuff until today. He nodded slowly and let you lead him to the elevator and then to your room.

The awkward atmosphere was back as soon as you stepped inside the room. You finally let go of his hand to take off your shoes. While you placed your own neatly by the entrance hall, Junpei had just kicked off his shoes, leaving them as they were.

You walked further inside the room after fixing his shoes and placing them next to yours.

Junpei was busy checking the minibar as you sat on the bed, taking out your phone from your purse to check the time. It was close to evening time, your boyfriend would be back home soon. Shaking your head, you put your phone away and focused your stare on Junpei’s back. “Thank you.”

“For w-what?” His shoulders tensed at your words, it made you smile.

“For the flowers and the notes you left by my door.” You laid down on your back to feel how soft the sheets were. “Receiving them made me excited and feel validated.”

“I-it was nothing.” He walked over to the bed, it was too late to drink anything from the minibar, on top of that, the prices were way too expensive. “I always thought you found them stalkerish.”

The bed sank and creaked as he sat next to you.

“My boyfriend did.” Ah, right. Saying it out loud made you realize how silly the situation was. You were in a love hotel with someone who sent you flowers despite having a boyfriend.

“Yeah.” He didn’t know what to say, the mood had changed again.

Thankfully, you knew what to say.

“Have you ever jerked off to me?”

Caught off guard, Junpei squealed but then forced himself to laugh to avoid answering the question.

“Hmm?” You lifted your head from the bed to look at him, determined to get an answer to your question.

“I can’t answer that…” His voice died off lamely, maybe he shouldn’t have said anything.

“It’s just a question,” you replied, encouraging him to tell you the truth.

He mumbled.

“What?” You smirked, “I couldn’t hear you.”

“I said maybe!” He covered his face with his hands. Another involuntary blush colored his cheeks and neck. The sound of the fabric rustling as you perhaps leaned closer to him filled the room, but all he could hear was his heartbeat in his ears. It seemed like an eternity until you said something.

“How?” you asked, almost sheepishly.

His eye opened widely. Was he hearing things? “What?”

“How did you do it?” His eye met yours again, then turned down briefly to his lap before returning his attention toward you.

He was frozen. He slowly processed your words, pausing for a moment. Had you really asked him that? Did he imagine that? Junpei stayed in his position for a while. He didn't dare to move.

You put a hand on his knee, sending a shiver down his spine as your hand moved up to his thigh.

“(name),” he breathed, the anticipation of what was to come made his cock twitch in his pants.

“Junpei,” you echoed, grabbing his thigh and letting your fingers brush against the growing bulge. “Tell me, how did you?”

He was biting his lip as your hands fiddled with his pants, pulling the zipper down and humming.

It all felt like a dream, something he would have fantasized about when he had his hand wrapped around his cock late at night. Not something that would actually happen in a million years. Yet, it was happening right now at this moment.

“I imagined you touching me,” he revealed when you cupped his bulge.

“How?”

“Naked and-” You tugged at the front of his pants, he lifted his hips and pulled them down.

“And?” Your fingers hooked under the waistband of his boxers, smiling mischievously.

“Under me,” he gasped as you pulled his underwear down to free his half-hard cock.

“Under you?” Wrapping a hand around the base of his cock, you lowered your mouth towards his cock, lolling out your tongue, you let your drool drizzle down on him. Slowly, you moved your hand from the base to the tip, spreading your drool to use it as lubrication.

“Y-yeah.” His hands gripped the sheets tightly. His cock was fully hard and was throbbing in your hand. “Under me.”

Your hand pumped his cock for the first time, it made a faint click sound. “Tell me more.” Using your thumb, you gently pulled back the thin layer of skin to expose the tip of his cock that was glistening with precum. With your forefinger, you tapped on the liquid and moved your finger away to see how far it would stretch. “Or better, why don’t you demonstrate it for me?”

Something snapped inside him.

Junpei grabbed you by your hair and pulled you up before locking your lips together in less than a second. His hand continued pulling you closer to himself while his tongue slipped out to explore your mouth once again. You sucked on his tongue and stroked his cock while grabbing a chunk of his hair in your other hand. You pulled his hair and opened your mouth widely to take the lead and this time you wanted to savor his taste.

Junpei’s free hand went to your ass, groping it and squeezing it as tightly as he could to get you to moan into the kiss and when you did, he lifted your leg to take you under him. Now, he was able to press himself on you.

You turned your face away for Junpei to kiss your neck, so you could jerk him off faster. He pecked on your neck and licked the sensitive skin until he reached your collarbone to nibble on your skin. Desperate to leave a mark of possession.

“Junpei,” you chanted, wanting to warn him about not leaving a mark. “Don’t-”

His teeth sank into your skin, hard enough to draw blood and your body squirmed in pleasure under him. An intense moan left your lips and you retrieved your hand from his cock to instead push his hair back.

Exposing his forehead, made him pull himself back from you. None of you dared to say anything as you gazed at each other. Your eyes were on his scars, albeit you were shocked, you managed to not show it on your face and instead pulled him closer to press a gentle kiss on his scars.

Your hands slid down to his cheeks and you squished them together, before pulling them back to take off your panties. You didn’t even get to take them off properly as Junpei balanced himself on a balled-up fist and hiked the skirt of your dress up. Although you wanted to offer him to take off your dress and panties, he was already positioning himself between your legs.

He stood still for a moment to look at you under him. Legs spread, hair and dress a mess while panties stuck on one ankle. He had never imagined he would see you like this when he left his house today. If he did, he would have been a lot more prepared.

Like bringing a condom.

“Is it really okay?” he asked.

You nodded, not really understanding what he was asking.

Without wasting another precious second, Junpei tapped his cock on your clit, dragging the tip back and forth between your folds before pushing the tip in. He pushed in deeper, letting out a groan in the process when your gummy walls squeezed around him.

You gasped softly, legs wrapping around his hips.

He took a moment to get himself together, it felt like he was going to cum if he moved. This was nothing like what he had imagined.

Whimpering, you moved your hips to tell him to move.

Junpei nodded, unable to let a single syllable out because of the way you clenched around him. He took a deep breath before tentatively pulling his hips back and slamming into you.

Your lips opened in a silent moan and he leaned down to press his lips onto yours as his hips started moving. His pace was irregular, the snap of his hips was brutal but his cock stroked all the good spots.

Arms wrapping around his neck, you held onto him for dear life when his cock began hammering into you. The girth of his cock was stretching you to your limit but the length was worse, with each snap of his hips, you felt the tip kiss your cervix.

The kiss turned sloppy soon enough, both of you were covered in each other's drool from moving your lips clumsily and thanks to the impact of Junpei humping your cunt like a rabid dog in heat.

His hands went to fondle your tits, he pulled the front of your dress down and dove his hands inside your bra to pinch your nipples, he was excitedly breathing into your mouth.

Both of you were close, he knew because you were a moaning mess, moving your hips desperately to meet his thrusts and his cock was twitching inside you because of how you wanted him like he wanted you.

“I’m- I’m gonna-” He couldn’t even finish his sentence.

When you felt his cock throbbing inside you, your legs wrapped around him tighter preventing him from pulling out. Once it occurred to him that you weren’t letting him go, he surged his forward as far as he could to bury his cock deep in your pussy. The tip of his cock pressed against your cervix and your gummy walls clenched around him.

Junpei’s eye rolled up while he spilled his seed inside your womb and in your pussy, filling you up to the brim. He pulled out to watch his seed oozing out from your gaping hole, he used his thumb to spread your folds wider and smiled in awe.

A moan left your lips, legs shaking in the pleasure of your tummy being full of his cum.

Junpei crawled next to you and put his head on your chest, his hand playing with your breast over your bra as the two of you caught your breaths.

There was a soft silence while you petted his hair and watched the ceiling.

You didn’t know what time it was but it had been long enough.

It was time to go home.

When you arrived at your apartment building, you retrieved your hand that was holding Junpei’s reluctantly. The smile Junpei wished you didn’t lose on your face was gone, instead, there was a broken smile.

He opened the building door for you and pressed the elevator call button. You were clutching on your purse, looking everywhere but his way. Maybe you were thinking that you made a mistake, Junpei knew he couldn’t compete with your boyfriend after all.

The elevator doors opened. The two of you got in. He pressed your floor. After an agonizingly long pause, the doors closed with a soft bell chime.

Having previously made your decision, you grabbed Junpei by his collar and pulled him down to kiss him greedily. Dumbfounded, he kissed you back. Although he wanted to use his hands to caress your body, the elevator’s bell chimed again, alerting that the doors were opening.

You pecked on his lips before letting go of his collar, brightly beaming at him.

His lips curled up into a smile matching yours.

Together, you walked past his apartment and to your place while holding hands, thankfully moving your stuff to the next door was easy.

[forsworned]

[✩] collegeau!anonymous admirer. {moniwa kaname x reader}

Genre: Fluff

Categories: F/M

Relationships: Moniwa Kaname/Reader

Word count: 1,412

a/n: hello dropping another oldie while i work on request, should b a student genya x reader that i got from ao3 but just a reminder that i don't do underage nsfw or anything nsfw or sexy themed cuz that's extremely weird, but if you wanna drop a request in my inbox please b sure to read my faq thanx

Every morning you'd wake up and check your tumblr to have a little message in your inbox from the seemingly same anon with a cute pick-up line. At first you thought that maybe you had reblogged something along the lines of "fill my ask", but it started to become a routine. It was never anything raunchy or lewd, just cheesy, cute one-liners that'd make you smile to yourself. Though, you had really appreciate whoever was sending them to you, you were starting to get really curious. Who could they be? Someone thousands of miles away or just around your area? It was hard to decide. You sighed as you shut down your laptop and slid it under your bed. You really shouldn't have been on your laptop at such a late hour. Finals week started tomorrow and you were beyond nervous. Sure you had studied but you always felt a bit on the edge during these five days. The thought of your anonymous admirer was the last thing on your mind before you drifted off to sleep. At least, they'll keep me positive throughout the week.

But you were wrong. It had been five days. Five days your inbox had been empty. Five days since they had last messaged you and you were actually beginning to feel a bit upset. Had something happened to them? Had you reblogged or posted something that they found offensive and possibly unfollowed you for it? You let out a groan as you spread your arms across your mattress and lay flat against your back. At least finals week was finally over and you could relax. Your phone made a small noise and you reached over your dresser to check whatever the notification you had just received. You almost jumped for joy when you had saw that you got a message on tumblr. Quickly logging on from your laptop, you clicked on your inbox, though it had a similar choice in pick-up lines it wasn't your typical anon. It was... "k-name?" You voiced aloud as your face scrunched in confusion. But then it hit you. You could finally find out who your anon admirer was! Your heart raced as you clicked on the icon and revealed the mystery person's blog. There wasn't much information, just a small quote on the bio: "Forever an Iron Wall" Hmm... That sounded a bit familiar. As you racked your brain for something that could connect to the quote, you hovered over the links and found the appearance link. Jackpot. Hurriedly, you had clicked on it but it was as if your laptop sensed your urgency and wanted to fuck with you because it was loading insanely slow. "C'mon you slow piece of shit." You muttered to yourself. A few agonizingly slow moments later, the page had finally loaded and your mouth dropped as you laid eyes on him. "Mo-moniwa Kaname?!" You exclaimed. Your face nearly burst into flames as you threw yourself back onto your bed and raked your hands through your hair, shaking your head in disbelief. No way, it just couldn't be him. You were dreaming. Getting back up again you scrolled through the many photos he had posted. Most of them with his teammates and some shots of him throwing the ball up into the air.  Moniwa had been someone you admired from afar. His spirit and gentle personality is what attracted you to him, but being the shy person you were, you never approached him. You went back to your inbox and read over the pick-up line. How was heaven when you left it? And there is was again, that overwhelming feeling in the pit of your stomach whenever you saw him or were anywhere around him. How would you even begin to reply? You fingers hesitated over your keyboard before you hastily replied. Heaven is anywhere you are You slightly cringed at how cliche that sounded, but as you tried to click on the text box to undo it your mousepad had acted a bit out of sorts and pressed on the answer privately button. Oh shit. "NO!" You exclaimed, as you slapped your face and fell onto your side. What have you done?! Now you really ruined any chance you possibly had with your crush. That night it was safe to say that you didn't get much of any sleep.

- - -

Waking up you felt as if you hadn't even fallen asleep at all. Your mind was murky as you washed up, dressed and got onto your campus shuttle. As you plopped onto the seat, you let out a small groan as your threw you head back and stared up at the ceiling of the moving train. "No sleep?" The voice resonated in your ears and you took a moment before you turned to the stranger. Though your reaction was delayed, you could barely believe who was seated right next to you at that very moment. "Mo-moniwa-san?!" You near shrieked, as you stood up straight and looked at him with ample eyes. His cheeks were tinged a rosy hue as he bit back a laugh. You turned a few grouchy college student heads due to your random outburst and you sulked a bit as you felt your cheeks warm. "I-I mean, weird seeing you here..." "Really? We've been riding the same train for the past three months." He replied. Your attention now fully on him as he looked down at the floor, expression slightly saddened. Had it upset him that you never noticed him on the same train as you?  Well, of course you idiot. Who wouldn't be upset? He laughed a bit as he looked out the train window and you tilted your head to the side in confusion. "I mean, I guess that makes sense since I'm probably overshadowed by much better looking guys." He sighed and rest his palm on his chin as he wandered through his thoughts. "That's ridiculous." You said a bit too quickly. His feline like eyes shifted towards you and you gulped a bit as you continued on. The morning sunlight shone on his form, giving him a celestial glow and your lips parted in as you gawked at him in pure awe. Your mouth moving with your mind. "Heaven is anywhere with you." His breath seized as he realized what you had spoken and you clamped your mouth shut. The train had come to a stop and you grabbed your belongings and rushed through the doors. Shit. Shit. Shit.  Had you really just fucking said that?! A far but audible, "hey!" could be heard though you didn't stop. A hand on your shoulder had given you quite a fright as your whole body tensed. Damn, you thought you had outrun him... "Hey..." He breathed out. You turned around seeing Moniwa out of breath, body slumped over as he let his arms fall to his side. "Jeez you run quick."  He straightened up with one eye squinting as he looked up at you, as the sun beat down on him.  "Aren't you part of the volleyball team?" You blurted. He chuckled. "Used to be. I'm getting out of shape. But damn, this is just ridiculous..." He mumbled the last part as he felt himself starting to regain his composure. "What you said earlier though," The blood rushed to your cheeks as you felt yourself shift uncomfortably under his gaze. "Uh, u-um--you started it with the cheesy, cute pick-up lines! And then you stopped for five days and it--damn it--was surprisingly pretty hard getting through finals week without having you send a dumb one-liner. I mean, at least I had something to look forward to."  His eyebrows raised and his mouth open ready to utter a word, though he's speechless. Had he really developed that affect on you? "But--but they were so terrible I thought I--" You nervously scratched your cheek. "Well, yeah, but I really liked them. It made sense though, why you stopped. Our finals meant a lot more than just a meaningless message a day. I'll just be going now." You finalized and began to walk toward your campus, but he caught your wrist in time and you turned to meet his gaze.  "You don't mean that." He spoke. "I don't." You replied, not bothering to hide your smile. A small pause before you spoke up again. "Let's talk about it over coffee, yeah?"

A large grin now on his face as he nodded. "I'd like that."

[missfay49]

Just Listen

Summary: The fam-ILY gets together for a Christmas celebration.  

Warnings: Logan and Virgil get in a fight but they make up, obligatory interaction with relatives, alcohol, food, Christmas, cursing, countdown, mention of past injury, struggling with recent hearing loss

Word Count: ~3000 

Oldest to Youngest: Logan/Remus/Roman/Janus/Virgil/Patton/Alec

Other Characters: Aunt Patty and Uncle Mitch, Aunt Mel and Uncle Jim, Titi, Grandma Sanders, Grandpa Sanders, Maman, Nico Flores

DD:HH:MM:SS - Days : Hours : Minutes : Seconds

AO3

Once upon a time, there were seven cousins born of four siblings.  The oldest sister and her husband had twins and named them Roman and Remus.  The second oldest sister and her partners had a child and named him Alec.  The youngest sister had one child and named him Patton.  And their brother, the youngest of them all, had three children named Logan, Janus, and Virgil.  

00:16:02:32 until Christmas Day, 7:58 AM

Logan, the oldest cousin, was leaning against the kitchen counter holding a fresh cup of coffee in one hand and rubbing his right temple with the other.  He blinked against the early morning sun of Christmas Eve streaming in.  

“You’re up early!”

Logan jumped at the movement to his right and found his aunt looking at him. 

“Good morning, Aunt Mel.  I made coffee.”

“Bless ya, kid,” she said, turning toward the machine.  When she came back around to grab the sugar, he was gone.

00:13:25:17 until Christmas Day, 10:35 AM

“Who took the last piece of bacon?!”  

Roman froze in his spot on the floor in front of the T.V.  If he were just very, very still, maybe-

“J’accuse!”  Remus shouted from the kitchen door over the sounds of chatter and clinking kitchenware.  Roman spun around to see Remus pointing at him menacingly.

“You already had some!”  Roman yelled back, pulling his plate close.  Remus, not breaking eye contact even once, methodically kicked off his flip flops and set his plate gently on top of a bookshelf.  He crouched a little and rolled his shoulders.

“Remus, no, my juice, Remus!  NOOO-”

00:13:23:03 until Christmas Day, 10:37 AM

From his cozy spot beneath the sheets in the spare bedroom, Virgil heard a scream and a thump.  And then several more thumps.  He blinked and stretched, smooshing his face into the pillow.  For one precious moment, he imagined he could go back to sleep but the dream was pierced by Aunt Patty’s shrill voice scolding someone down the hall.  

He shoved himself up on his elbows and sent a hostile glare at the general brightness of the room.  Things quieted down but it was too late - he was up.  He stretched for several more minutes before finally straightening his clothes and stumbling out to follow the smell of breakfast.

00:12:40:54 until Christmas Day, 11:20 AM

Virgil shuffled past the subdued twins in the living room and into the kitchen, stopping at the door as his brain tried to process what was happening.  His younger cousin, Patton, was furtively opening and closing all the cabinets, searching each and every one.  Apparently he found what he was looking for, because he started chuckling to himself and reached behind some cups to pull out a huge plastic bag of cookies.  He opened it and spun around on his socks, walking headlong into Virgil.

“Ah!”  Patton nearly dropped the bag, and a couple cookies fell out onto the floor.  Virgil laughed as they picked them up together.

“Whatcha doing, Pat?”

Patton waved him close, whispering.  

“My mom keeps hiding the cookies.  She said if I keep eating ‘em she’s gonna have to make more for tomorrow.  That sounds like a win-win to me!”  He took the floor cookie from Virgil and pocketed it.  They took turns peering into the dining room where the older folks were talking.

“You do you, cuz.”  They bumped fists and Virgil scooped some cold leftover eggs onto a paper plate to take with him to the living room.  Remus shoved past him coming back into the kitchen.  

Whatever Remus had planned to do in here was lost when he spotted Pat.

“Oo!  Cookies!”

00:11:22:49 until Christmas Day, 12:38 PM

“What exactly are we watching, Roman?” asked Patton, popping a couple Tums into his mouth and flopping down into a recliner.  Roman was still planted in the middle of the living room floor, but now Virgil was keeping him company, fast asleep on the couch with an empty plate in his lap.  Roman didn’t look away from the screen.

“A Christmas Prince.  It’s about a journalist that falls in love with the prince of a whole Christmas-themed country!  And the bad guy’s not too bad lookin’ either.”  Roman squeezed a pillow to his chest.

“Oh, right, I thought it looked familiar!  Did you watch Jenny Nicholson’s breakdown of it?”

“Who?”

Patton smiled at the look of wonder on Roman’s face as he followed the characters on screen.  At the silence, Roman turned around to look at him, distracted but curious.  Patton waved him off.  

“Never mind.”  Better not to spoil it.

00:07:12:24 until Christmas Day, 16:47 PM

“Dinner tiiime!”  Aunt Patty peeked into the living room.  “It’s all ready, you guys hungry?”

“Yisss!”  Patton launched himself out of the recliner with Virgil following slowly behind.  Roman tore his eyes away from the current Hallmark movie with great effort, checking his phone messages.

Aunt Mel was in the kitchen with their little cousin Alec.  Just as they passed through he let up a screech, making them all jump.  Roman’s phone went flying.

“AAAAA DON’T WANNA WASH I’M STILL PLAYING!”

“AH, sweet Jesus,” Roman clutched his chest dramatically as the rest started laughing.

“Alright, keep it together, ya hooligans,” Aunt Mel teased them.  “Alec, I’ve had too much wine today for you to be screaming at the water.  You told me yesterday you love playing with the water-”

Auntie continued to help Alec wash his hands and the cousins tumbled into the dining room where Logan and the grandparents were already gathering.  Logan braced at the incoming chaos.  

“What happened to you?”  He asked them.

“Didn’t you hear Alec screaming?”  Virgil deadpanned.

“Oh,” Logan straightened his glasses.  “Yes, that.”

The rest of the family came up from the basement talking heatedly about the Saints and the Vikings.  Who was winning or losing at that particular moment was unclear, but dinner would proceed regardless. 

00:04:47:19 until Christmas Day, 19:13 PM

“Defuse!”  Remus slammed a card down onto the table.  “Whew, that was close.  I almost exploded in a fiery, kitten-y death!”

“Boom!” Alec cheered.  Nearly the whole family was gathered around the kitchen-table-turned-game-table, even the grandparents and great grandma, Maman.  Aunt Patty and Uncle Mitch were downstairs watching the end of the football game, and Titi was just a few feet away putting a new batch of sugar cookies in the oven.  She shot a good-natured stare at Patton.  

“Sorry, mooom,” “Sorry, Titiii” he and Remus chorused.  “Patton tricked me!”

“Hey!”

“That’s okay, you two can help me decorate these later as punishment.  Remus,” Titi pointed to the person beside him. “Help Maman with her turn, remember?”

“Oh, yeah!”  Remus leaned over the centenarian.  “You got any actions, Maman?”

“Quel est ce dessin?”  She held her cards up to him and pointed.

“That’s a cat dressed as a taco, Maman.  C’est un mème.”

While the game continued around the table, Virgil watched Logan discreetly.  Sitting to his left, something was wrong with his oldest brother.  He wasn’t sure what yet, but it was definitely… something.

“Nope!”  Logan put a card down over Uncle Jim’s attack.  Aunt Mel went next, then she helped Alec with his turn, and then, there it was; Logan’s brow furrowed ever so slightly.  His eyes flitted back and forth between the players and the cards.  He stared at their faces, but not quite at eye level.  Patton’s, Roman’s, Grandma’s turns all passed the same - he was concentrating so hard.  Why?

“Virgil?”  Grandpa nudged him out of his speculation.  “It’s your turn.”

Logan was staring at him expectantly.  

“Oh.”  Virgil glanced at two mismatched cats and drew.  An exploding kitten.  He was dead.  “You’re turn, Lo.”

Logan spent a second longer waiting to see if Virgil was done, and then played his own cards.  As they both watched Remus go next, Virgil leaned in closer.

“What is up with you?”  He whispered.  Logan didn’t take his eyes off Remus’ cards.

“Hey!”  He kept whispering, jabbing Logan in the ribs.

“Ow!”  Logan yelped, then lowering his voice.  “What?”

“I asked you a question, don’t act like you can’t hear me.”  

Logan squinted at him, then his face shifted.  He looked stricken.  

“I’m playing “See The Future”,” someone said.  “Hand me the deck.”

00:04:22:44 until Christmas Day, 19:38 PM

VIRGE: what happened?

A new round had started and Virgil hoped that switching to text would let them continue their argu- debate without distracting the rest of the family.

BIG BRO: Nothing

VIRGE: bullshit

Logan ignored his phone, watching the game progress counter-clockwise this time.  Virgil did not accept this strategy.

VIRGE: !

VIRGE: !

VIRGE: !

VIRGE: !

VIRGE: !

VIRGE: !

BIG BRO: Stop

VIRGE: tell the truth.  

BIG BRO: (Seen)

They paused to take their turns, and when Virgil picked his phone back up, Logan was already typing.  He tried to be patient, but the energy was clear in the way his foot tapped the ground.

BIG BRO: It seems my hearing has not entirely recovered since that explosion during chem lab a couple months ago.  I’ve got tinnitus in my right ear.  It is quite difficult to pick up sounds over the ringing when they’re coming from that direction.  

BIG BRO: Or sometimes from any direction.  So, I’m concentrating a little more.  That’s all.  

Virgil glanced between the texts and Logan several times, Logan staring with seemingly great intent at his cards.  

VIRGE: THATS ALL?

BIG BRO: Calm down, it’s not a big deal.

VIRGE: have you been to a doctor?

Logan stopped to play another “Nope” card.  Virgil was ready to scream at the delay.  The chatter at the table seemed louder to him now and much, much different.

BIG BRO: Yes.  And I’ve done plenty of my own research.  There’s not much to be done unless I want to get surgery or start wearing hearing aids.

VIRGE: so wear hearing aids until you decide about the surgery

BIG BRO: They’re expensive, Virgil.

VIRGE: dads insrance must cover some of it and ive got some extra money

BIG BRO: No.  Thank you.  That money’s yours.  You worked hard for it.  

VIRGE: your e taking it

BIG BRO: That’s not the problem.

VIRGE: then what is.?

BIG BRO: (Seen)

VIRGE: why won’t you make it easier on yourself?  you know none of us will care if you wear one.  the explosion wasn’t even your fault, it was that other kid

Virgil sent the text and looked at Logan, waiting.  Remus was nearly finished with his turn; Logan was next.  The turns passed, but Logan didn’t pick his phone back up from the table.

VIRGE: why

Logan glanced at the text preview when it came up on the screen, still not moving.

VIRGE: i know you can see this

VIRGE: why

VIRGE: why

VIRGE: why

“Because!”  Logan shouted, slapping his cards down.  Everyone fell into a stunned quiet.

“Are you guys cheating?  Mom says cheating is wrong.”  Alec’s voice broke the silence a second later.  Virgil stuck his tongue out at him.

“I assure you we are not cheating,” Logan smiled at Alec.  “Virgil’s just being a pest.”

The game resumed, Patton taking an absurd amount of actions before drawing another Beard Cat card.  Was it even legal to have that many cards?

Virgil leaned back in his chair, tired from the stress.  His phone buzzed.

BIG BRO: This is my last semester.  I’ll get one after graduation.

00:00:41:12 until Christmas Day, 23:19 PM

Roman carried two mugs of coffee into the living room as back-to-back commercials for 24 Hours of A Christmas Story played on the T.V.  He handed one to Virgil and got back under the throw blanket.

“Thanks.”

“Whatcha doing?”  Roman peered at Virgil’s laptop.  There were at least a dozen tabs open.  The current screen showed some kind of fancy earpods.  

“Just killin’ time.”  Virgil opened yet another tab.

“Yeah, it’s a bummer Janus picked a college so far away.  But the train’s due in a few minutes!  Then it’ll be officially Christmas.”  

“I mean, he still has to, like, get here from the station.” 

“Whatever,” shrugged Roman.  He flipped through the channels.  All commercials.  He settled back on the Hallmark channel, laying down and closing his eyes while they waited for the latest must-have-product ads to end.

“Remember when we played dress up together?”  Roman mused.  “Mom taped all those toilet paper rolls together so we could have swords and we all fought over the two paper crowns from Burger King?  Do they still make those?”

“I have no idea,” Virgil laughed.  “That was so long ago, how do you even remember that?”

“Because I was a fabulous ruler!  The kingdom prospered unendingly under my leadership!”  Roman flung his free arm wide, not bothering to open his eyes.  “It was glorious!”

“All you did was declare free love-”

“An important doctrine!”  Roman jabbed at the air once before letting his arm flop back down and graze the carpet.  “All Janus did was universally pardon thieves and liars, was that so much better?”

“Well, I was playing a thief.  Maybe I’m biased.”

“You would…” Roman muttered.  He didn’t finish the thought.

“Roman?”

 A little snort was the only response.  Roman was fast asleep, coffee untouched and the remote resting by his head.

00:00:00:03 until Christmas Day, 23:59 PM

00:00:00:02...

00:00:00:01...

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Virgil was stirring; he snuck like a mouse.

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,

in hopes that his brother soon would be there.

Christmas Day, 01:23 AM

“Wake up!” 

Roman gasped.  Someone was shoving him into the couch cushions.

“He’s here!”  Virgil bounced on his shoulder again, almost knocking the laptop to the ground.  

“Okay!  Jeez, I’m up.  I’m up!”

Virgil was already gone, shoving his boots on while a taxi drove away outside leaving two figures in the darkness with their bags.  By the time Roman was on his feet, Janus was shouldering through the door with a backpack and giant suitcase, a cute boy following just behind. 

“What is up, king?”  Roman and Janus clasped hands and half hugged.  “Who’s this?”

“Oh, you know.”  Janus shrugged off the bag.  “This is my boyfriend.  Nico, this is my cousin, Roman.”

Nico stifled a yawn and waved.  “Pleasure to meet you, Roman!”  Virgil came in setting down two more bags and nudged Janus.

“I thought we all agreed not to bring dates again after what happened last-”

“Oh, sweetheart, you must be exhausted!”  Roman interrupted as he picked up one of the bags.  “I’ll show you where you’re sleeping.”  

“Thank you so much, our stuff took forever to load off the train.”  Nico started to follow him.  

“Hands to yourself, Ro,” Janus hissed after them.  “I like this one.”  

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Roman grinned, disappearing around the corner into the hallway.  Nico hesitated.

“What…?”  

Janus waved him off.  “I’ll tell you later.”  When they were both out of sight, he turned to Virgil.  

“It looks like half the county’s parked in our front yard.  Is dad up?”

“He didn’t stay.”  Virgil shrugged.  “He got into a fight with Titi last night and left after an hour.”

“I see…” Janus sighed, looking down the hall for a moment.  “Can’t break tradition now, can we?”  He smiled up at his little brother.  “Did you get taller?”

Virgil answered by way of a bear-hug, squeezing the breath out of him.

“I missed you, too, Virge.” 

Christmas Day, morning-ish

“Merci, Maman!  Thank you!”  Everyone spoke over each other, unwrapping the sweaters she had made for each of them.  

“Yellow was very, uh, popular this year, no?”  She teased them.  “I hope that you like them.”

“Mine does not have yellow, it’s gold.”  Roman corrected everyone.  Aunt Patty scolded him.  Janus laughed.  

“Don’t complain, Roman, yellow is just the superior color,” said Janus, wrestling his own sweater on.

“Yours is more black than yellow!”  Roman pointed out.  Janus’ head popped up through the collar.

“Did I say yellow?  I meant ‘black’.  Black is the superior color.”

“Black’s not even a color,” Roman called after Janus shimmying away to grab a cookie with Nico in the kitchen.  He came back a second later.

“Why does this cookie look like it’s frosted with vomit?”  Janus held one up, looking affronted.

“Don’t suppress my creativity!”  Remus shouted from under the tree.

Christmas Day, sometime, who cares anymore?

Logan stood in the hallway, reading an email from Virgil, sent at three that morning.  It was lists of hearing aids, their pros and cons, and prices.  And another email from Janus a few minutes ago with links on how to get disability funding.  That would explain Virgil’s note at the end...

I love you.  Please don’t be mad.  I told Janus.

He rubbed a hand over his face and chuckled.  Had he really thought he was going to keep this a secret for even a day around those two?  He pocketed the phone for now and walked through the house.  

There was Patton and Roman watching a girl in a beret talk on youtube.  Roman had a horrified look on his face.  Janus was in the kitchen teaching Alec how to play chess, and not going easy on the kid at all.  Logan peeked downstairs.  There were Virgil and Remus and Nico, playing charades with the aunties.  Remus was making some obscene gesture that had Aunt Mel on the floor laughing and spilling her wine, and Aunt Patty was yelling at both of them.

Logan wandered to the couch and plopped down.  It’s a Wonderful Life, was playing on the television.  Logan hummed along with the closed captioning as the characters celebrated saving George Bailey from false charges.  The vibrations in his chest felt right.

For auld lang syne, my dear

For auld lang syne

We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet

For days of auld lang syne

~

The End.

@sanderssidesgiftxchange @kieraelieson

[lala-the-rebel]

Okay :) Can you please do a college au-ish thing where patton is stressed and Logan calms him down? (Also it doesnt have to be, but if you can keep it on the shorter side that would be cool. I cant read things that are super long cuz I lose focus and it gets difficult to read).

before anything, i do have to admit that i legitimately tried (and failed) to make this short. besides that, was still pretty fun to write so yay

Summary: Logan's been helping out Patton for a while when it comes to studying for their college classes. But when finals roll around, it isn't such an easy process, and poor Patton starts getting stressed out. So, Logan tries to distract him for a while to see if it helps calm him down. 

When Roman and Virgil get word of what he's doing, they try to make all hell break loose. 

And because they do, Logan's plan works a lot better than he thought it would.

Word Count: 2,256 

Warnings: food mentions (really just coffee but eh) (anything i missed, please lemme know) 

read here on ao3! 

---

Patton threw down his pencil in frustration and put his head in his hands. He had been working hard at studying for this final of his, and he almost had everything down. There was just one problem he wasn’t getting no matter how hard he tried, and it was stressing him out way more than he wanted it to. 

Logan had sat beside him this whole time. He had offered a while ago to help Patton out with studying, and it proved to be more successful than any other help Patton had gotten before. This one session, however, was definitely the most difficult. Logan wasn’t even able to figure out how to solve the problem, which was rare. 

And because of that, Patton got even more stressed out. 

Logan racked his brain for a solution. Something, anything to get them both away from the stress for a while.

He finally thought of something. It seemed a bit basic, but it was something. Better than nothing.

“Hey, Patton?” He got the other boy’s attention. “How about we stop studying for right now?”

“Stop studying?” Patton said with a scoff. “Am I hearing you correctly, Lo? Have you been replaced?”

“Yes, you heard me perfectly. And, no, I haven’t been replaced,” he assured the other with a laugh. “I know you’re definitely stressed out right now, which does not create optimal studying results.”

Patton nodded. “I guess you’re right.”

“To continue with my point, I think that your stress can be reduced with more than just not studying. I think you need to distract yourself from just schoolwork in general. Just for a bit. It might allow you to reestablish the focus that will get you that answer you need.”

“Okay then. What do you suggest we do?” Patton asked, looking Logan right in the eye.

“That is for me to know and for you to find out. Now, follow me.” He got up from where they were sitting, closing his textbooks with emphasis. He crossed his arms as he waited for Patton to follow.

Patton didn’t like not knowing what he was up to, but he got up and went along with it anyways. Logan had walked out to his car, gesturing for Patton to get in before him. The other obeyed, knowing there wasn’t a way for him to get out of it. 

They ended up arriving at Starbucks, of all places. Patton was ultimately surprised.

“Why...did we come here?” he asked almost right away. “If you wanted coffee, I could have just made ya some there at my place.”

“Yes, you very well could have,” Logan agreed. “However, I think both of us just needed to get away from there for a while. I’ll explain. By staying at home, you’re more likely to think about studying, particularly the stress from it, since it’s easily accessible to you. I’ve removed both of us as an attempt to relax us in an environment that is not associated at all with the stressor, which in this case is the act of studying itself and anything relating to it. If we’re not around it, it’s easier to forget about it unless we actively choose to think about it all the time. Does that make sense?”

Patton was a bit overwhelmed by the lengthy explanation but understood it for the most part. “So you’re saying not being around my house is gonna make it easier to calm down?”

“More or less. You can take some time to think about something else for a while. Give yourself a mental break before going back there.”

Patton nodded. “That would probably work. Gosh, Logan, you’re so good at thinking of these kinds of things! I don’t know how you do it.”

Logan softly smiled at the compliment, attempting to seem less affected by it than he really was. “Just a natural talent, I suppose. Shall we go in now?”

The two headed in, noticing a rather large line right off the bat. The possibility of waiting disenchanted Patton from the idea a little bit. “Maybe we should just go back. Waiting too long is gonna take away from our study time…”

“Patton, what did we just discuss? You are not to mention studying the entire time we are here. And we’re staying, no matter how long the line is. Besides, I think it won’t take too long.”

Patton sighed. “Fine.”

Logan turned his head slightly to look at the other. “Why don’t you find us a table to sit at while you wait? I’ll order for you.”

“I guess I can do that…” He reluctantly walked off to a table on the other end of the place. Logan watched him the entire time, only turning his attention back to the registers once Patton sat down.

It didn’t take Logan long to reach the front of the line. During his wait, he recited the order a couple times in his head, glanced at Patton, checked his phone, and looked at the menu just in case he wanted something else. It wasn’t until he got closer to the front that he recognized a familiar face taking orders. 

“Welcome, may I take your order?” Virgil recited, monotone as ever. He didn’t even bother looking up from the register as he said it.

“You may, but not without looking at me while you do it,” Logan joked. “I know you know me.”

Hearing Logan’s voice caused Virgil to look up. “Logan?” He scoffed. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Virge, language,” Roman warned as he walked behind him. “You don’t want to get in trouble for it again, right?” He didn’t await Virgil’s answer before speaking again. “Hey, Logan.”

“Hello, Roman.”

“At this point in time, I do not care,” Virgil replied. “And you should know that.”

“I do, but, like I said, I’m just warning you. Now take the poor nerd’s order. You can talk to him on your break.”

Virgil rolled his eyes as Roman walked off. “What do you want, Lo?”

“A caramel frappucino for Patton, and...an iced mocha for myself, I suppose. You know the sizes.”

Virgil nodded, punching in the order. “You’re here with Patton, huh? I’m very curious about how you got conned into that.”

“Evidently. I’m sure Roman is as well.”

“Yeah, well, he can wait. Your total is ten dollars and twenty-five cents.”

“I heard that, Virgil!” Roman called from the back.

Logan snorted as pulled out his card and paid. “He seems thrilled to hear that.”

“It’s not my fault I have a break before he does,” Virgil said nonchalantly as he grabbed the receipt and handed it over. He tapped the register a few more times looking back up at Logan. “Speaking of a break, I’m now officially on that. Gimme a second.”

Logan nodded and waited off to the side. It didn’t take long for Virgil to return. He stood right next to Logan, nudging him a bit as a way to let him know he had arrived. The other gave a small glance his way before going back to look at his phone. “What do you want?”

“You know what I want.”

Logan sighed. He was about to answer before something, or rather someone, interrupted him.

“Hey, wait for me!” Roman blurted as he walked up to them.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working?” Virgil smarted off.

“I’m cleaning tables, duh,” Roman returned, holding up the towel that was in his hand. 

“How you two have not been fired yet baffles me,” Logan piped in.

“We wonder that ourselves every day. Now, tell us why you’re here with Patton.”

“Yeah, tell us!” Roman said as he made a half-hearted attempt to look like he was busy by slowly wiping down the table nearest to them.

“Alright. First of all, I didn’t get conned into it. In fact, I suggested it. It was just meant as a break from studying for finals.” 

“Ew, finals.” 

“Ew, studying.” 

Logan rolled his eyes at their complaints, ignoring them. “He was getting really stressed out over it. So, I thought of taking him somewhere for a break.” 

“So you decided to take him to get coffee? How’s coffee supposed to help?” Virgil remarked, crossing his arms.

“I...don’t know. I figured he needed to get out of there so he doesn’t think about it as much, at least. The first place I thought of was here.” 

“You thought of us? How sweet,” Roman joked. 

“Nah, we both know he’s thinking about Patton right now, especially in that way,” Virgil teased. The two of them kept giggling at that while Logan stared them down.

He had previously mentioned that kind of thing to them, emphasizing that it was merely a small, no, infinitesimal possibility, and they took it and ran. They were far from wrong, but Logan did not want them to know that at all. They would hound him so much about it, and he knew he wouldn’t have been able to stand it. He figured to hide anything relating to him and Patton from them. He had until now.

“Oh, of course he would be. I don’t think he would have stopped studying, of all things, if he thought otherwise,” Roman added.

“Will you two stop with that? I was just trying to be considerate!” Logan barked at them. His order had gotten called out then and there. When he turned around to get the drinks, Roman and Virgil slyly looked at each other. They stopped once he turned around to face them again.

Logan furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at them. “Don’t say it.”

“Say what?”

“You know what I mean.” He started walking off in Patton’s direction, ignoring them.

“Go have fun with your boy toy!” Roman sing-songed at him. Virgil snorted at the remark. Logan heard it loud and clear and chose to ignore it. He couldn’t help the blush that appeared on his cheeks.

He didn’t even make notice of it until Patton pointed it out.

“I should have remembered they worked here,” he muttered as he sat down. “They are colossally annoying.” 

Patton had to resist a laugh. He grabbed his drink, looking at Logan. He had heard what Roman said as well, but he decided against bringing it up, thinking Logan wouldn’t have been affected by it. The blush on his face said otherwise.

“I’m sure they are. And by the way, you’re looking a little red there, Lo,” Patton answered before sipping his drink.

“What?” Logan asked, startled by the remark. He instantly felt his face, noticing how warm it was. Out of embarrassment, he buried his face in his arms on the table. A couple snickers came from Patton while Roman and Virgil cackled at him from a distance. 

This was definitely not what he wanted to deal with right now. 

Patton let out a couple giggles before speaking again. “You don’t have to hide from me, Logan.” 

“I’m not hiding.” 

“Yeah, and I’m not stressed out at all over the final that could make or break my grade. Well, actually, not so much right now. Guess this is working.” 

Logan turned his head up the slightest bit to look at Patton staring right back at him. “Are you saying that just to make me feel better?” 

“Not at all. Now sit up.” 

“Are they looking over here?” 

Patton turned his head to look at Roman and Virgil. The two had been staring at them the whole time. When they both made eye contact with Patton, they immediately looked away, acting busy. Patton had to resist chuckling as he looked back at Logan. “Not anymore.” 

Logan reluctantly sat up, but avoided making eye contact with Patton. He stared at his drink, stirring it with his straw as a distraction. He couldn’t tell if his face was still red or not, but he didn’t really care now. “I...apologize for their stupidity,” he mumbled after a while. 

“No need to apologize. I found it entertaining,” Patton replied, sipping his drink. “I do have to ask you this, though. Is there a reason behind what Roman said that I don’t know of?” 

Logan stopped messing with his straw when Patton said that. He looked up at him for a brief second before looking back down again. “Yes, but...it would take a while to, um, explain it. We do need to get back to studying at some point, so I shouldn’t waste our time talking about it.” 

Patton laughed a little bit at that. “Logan.” He got the other to look at him in the eye. “What if I told you that telling me would help relieve the studying stress? Is that convincing enough?” 

“But, Patton, it really isn’t that important-” 

“It is to me. Talking to you is far from a waste of time, Logan. I really wanna know.” 

That, combined with the look on Patton’s face, was enough to finally convince him. 

“Alright then. I’ll tell you.” 

The smile that appeared on Patton’s face as a result had somehow relieved all of the stress he felt in that moment. In fact, he felt more excited in that moment more than anything and quickly got to explaining. 

When they were done talking, they had long forgotten about studying and the horrors from it that happened earlier in the day. When they had returned to their work much later, Patton found the solution to that dumb problem with ease. 

Logan’s idea had worked, alright. In the best way possible.

[personne-reblogs]

Hello! Idk if you still accepting ficlet prompt or not, but if you do, would you mind if I request a combination of 2 fluff prompts between 52. “i’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.” and 18. “are you that desperate?” “for you, yes.”, for OPM ship Batarou? Thank you very much 🙏💖

Whoopsie, I went a little wild with this one... well, you didn’t give me any word count and I was very inspired by the shameless flirt so I included prompts 55, 61, 62 and 63 as well. Thanks Anon, I had so much fun!! Hope y’all will like it!

Fandom: One Punch Man Ship: Batarou Word count: 4k Summary: Lately, Badd has been haunted by a ghost. Kinda. It looks like a guy with white spiky hair, but Badd's the only one to see it. It's following him everywhere, and it's able to help him fight monsters, and it Won't. Stop. Flirting.

Read under the cut or read on AO3!

A Ghost Story

***

There have been better days, Badd sighs to himself. The rain that ruined his carefully stylished hair this morning, the Hero Association meeting that took his entire afternoon, the busy traffic that almost made him late for his ice cream appointment with Zenko, the empty fridge that has him walking to the nearest nightshop at this late hour.

“You look amazing tonight,” a predatory voice purrs behind him.

Ah, yes. And the ghost that has been following him for days and won’t shut the fuck up.

“You’re still here, huh?” Badd asks without thinking, and immediately regrets it.

“Not like I’ve got anywhere else to be, dumbass,” the ghost replies, and Badd suddenly feels tired. He’s heard this shit, like, a thousand times already, and it’s been less than a week. “You should have registered by now. Nobody’s that stupid.”

“Hey, watch it, asshole,” Badd grunts defensively. “‘s been a long day, okay?”

“Oh yeah? How come I didn’t see any of that?”

There’s a smirk in the ghost’s tone, and Badd doesn’t even need to turn around to know there’s a teasing look printed on its face.

“Not every hard day is about fighting, y’know. Regular human stuff is exhausting too.”

“Right,” the ghost says, and there’s a pout in that.

Badd walks through the night shop's door and automatically goes for the drink aisle. He knows the ghost comes in too, but it mercifully keeps quiet.

It first appeared after Badd killed a random tiger-level monster on his way back from Zenko’s school. It has the form of a dude with strange white, spiky hair. A dude who looks like he practises a lot of sport - something contact-ish, martial arts, maybe. At first Badd thought it really was a random guy that had arrived after the monster was dead, but then the thing had followed him everywhere, claiming it was stuck with him, and Badd had realized he was the only one to see it. Creepy.

Now the ghost - that’s all Badd can think of to describe it - is part of his life, whether he likes it or not. It usually appears at night, when it’s dark outside, maybe cuz it doesn’t like daylight or some shit. Except it also appears each time Badd is in a fight. Even in plain day. Hell if he knows why.

“Keep the change,” he tells the cashier before heading back home with a fresh bottle of coke. He’s addicted to it these days. Can’t sleep early, so he might as well treat himself with something sweet while he endures endless conversations with the thing.

“I’ve always wanted to try it,” the ghost says conversationally as soon as they’re out in the street, because of course it won’t keep quiet any longer. God, Badd feels so tired.

“I’d gladly share it with you, but, you know,” he replies as mockingly as he can, turning around and slightly shaking the bottle before opening it and taking a long sip. He makes a show of savouring it just because he can and the thing can’t. It can’t touch anything real, actually, and isn’t that a fucking ghost thing?

Except it does manage to hit monsters in fights. It has happened before. Weird.

The ghost narrows its eyes at him and crosses its arms, but a twisted smile stretches its lips.

“Yeah, but you offered anyways. See? You’re cute when you’re half asleep.”

It really Won’t. Stop. Teasing.

Will it?

***

It’s two in the afternoon when he gets a call from the Hero Association. There’s a demon level threat across town, he’s the closest S-class hero around. He immediately goes to the location they sent him - he was bored anyway.

He’s surprised by the looks of the monster once he’s there. For its level, it happens to be… small, actually. Not even the size of a human being. It jumps in and out of sight, hides behind public bins, and destroys buildings as if they were nothing.

Shit. That one’s gonna be a pain in the ass.

“Fucking finally,” an unexpected, hungry voice hisses behind him, and he realizes he almost forgot about The Thing.

It’s been two entire weeks and he almost bloody forgot.

“Stay outta my way,” Badd orders, his grip tightening on his bat, his eyes searching the place to find the monster back. It’s gonna be complicated enough without the ghost distracting him.

“Yeah, right,” the voice laughs next to him.

“Dude, I really have no time for yer -”

He stops mid-sentence because there is suddenly a building collapsing beside him, and he doesn’t even have time to swear before he gets a glimpse of the monster across the street. It seems like it is avoiding contact, staying out of reach -

And then, in a blur, the ghost rushes past him to throw itself on the monster.

Literally.

He can’t make out what happens after that, not amongst the dust from the demolition, so he runs after them.

When he finds them back, the monster lies motionless on the floor. The ghost is casually sitting on a rubble, an arm thrown around its knee, a ferocious smile spreading wide on its face.

“Gosh, I’ve missed this,” it says as if it were talking about going for a walk in the sun.

It looks that refreshed, at least. Neat.

“What the shit?!” Badd barks, because even though he’s impressed, he doesn’t like losing control of the situation.

“Not the first time I give you a hand, you know. No big deal.”

“I would’ve handled this perfectly well on my own, thank you very much.”

“Yeah, and you would’ve destroyed the entire fucking city, so, you’re welcome.”

“Ghost, I swear -”

“Oh, honey, I thought we were past that,” the ghost says with an exaggerated hurt look.

“Past what?” Badd asks confusedly.

“I have a name, you know.”

“No, I don’t.”

“What?”

The ghost looks genuinely surprised, and it shouldn’t, but it makes Badd feel extremely satisfied.

“You never mentioned it. Your name.”

“I - really?”

The ghost shakes its head with an incredulous chuckle. It gets up from the rubble, comes a few steps closer, and presents Badd its hand.

“Call me Garou.”

Badd shouldn’t try to shake that hand. It doesn’t exist. His own hand would pass through it and he’d look like a fucking moron.

But he’s curious, so he does it anyway.

And it turns out it feels exactly like a regular handshake.

“Hi. I’m Badd.”

***

He his a martial art type of guy.

Badd has seen him in enough fights to know for sure now. It’s not just the vibe and the looks - whenever they’re in a fight, the ghost Garou uses sharp, precise techniques Badd could only dream of.

Not that he’s interested in martial arts, but he has to admit it’s quite effective.

Especially when Garou single-handedly brings strong ass opponents down like that.

 Hot.

“Pfff, no fun,” Garou sighs, disappointed, before coming back to Badd. He always does. Something to do with him being physically unable to wander too far away from his human host, or some shit.

“It isn’t supposed to be fun, but whatever,” Badd points out while poking at his own enemy with his bat, just to check. It’s dead alright.

“You say that because you’re not strong enough to have a good time.”

“Right,” Badd says. He has given up on reacting to Garou’s teasing. It’s no use.

“Maybe you’d be more useful in fights if you weren’t so busy staring at me,” Garou goes on.

Badd only raises a very unamused eyebrow at him.  

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice,” his ghost insists with that stupid, smug expression of his. He even - wait, was that a bloody wink?

“Urgh, I’m gonna be sick,” Badd tiredly mumbles as he turns around to leave the scene. Now that the fight is over, Garou will soon disappear for the rest of the day. Meanwhile, there’s a piano recital Badd needs to attend.

To be honest, he’s getting used to this whole ghost thing. Garou can handle himself in a fight. Hell, he can even be of some real use, Badd has to give him that.

Such a shame he’s that much of a big mouth. It’s been almost a month now, and his lame pickup lines still exhaust him.

***

When the evening is quiet and the weather is soft, Badd loves to just sit on the wooden stairs behind his house and chill. Zenko often joins him, and they chat, or she just reads a book until it’s time for her to get to bed.

That time was half an hour ago. Now Badd is alone with Tama, purring loudly in his lap as he pets her, and he simply enjoys doing nothing.

He doesn’t really notice the nightfall.

“It’s late,” a familiar voice says in a sugar-coated tone. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

Badd tilts his head to find his ghost in his usual sitting position, one elbow casually resting on his knee, a few steps higher.

He recognizes the question for what it actually is: an attempt at starting some small talk. He’s not in the mood, so he shrugs, and suppresses a grimace when the gesture makes his bandaged shoulders sting a bit. Then he shifts to find a more comfortable position and resumes petting Tama without answering.

Garou doesn’t insist. Nice.

They spend a moment like that, in silence, and with the light breeze brushing his washed hair, Badd thinks he could fall asleep right there. The adrenaline of the fight he’s had this afternoon has finally worn off, and he feels tired, but in a good way - it’s a physical weariness, not the nervous tension he’s been used to lately.

After a while, his ghost is talking again, and it would annoy Badd if not for the genuine curiosity in his voice.

“Just wanted to ask, about earlier… How did you do that?”

“What d’ya mean?”

“I saw that monster beat the shit out of you,” Garou says, and he sounds suspicious. “You were out, man. How the fuck did you get up and win after that?”

“Not thanks to you, asshole,” Badd groans, but there isn’t any bite to it. He’s actually smirking a little.

“That kind of brute? Not my style,” his ghost snorts with a disgusted expression. “Besides, I wanted to see how you’d manage without me, and… shit, I still don’t know what I’ve seen.”

Badd doesn’t know what he’s done to make an impression on fucking Killing Machine Garou, but hell if he doesn’t secretly feel very pleased.

“Just some good old fighting spirit,” he replies in a carefully neutral tone.

“Come again?”

“Y’know. When you get all angry at stuff. Makes you go wild.”

“You… were angry,” Garou repeats incredulously.

“Well, duh! Wasn’t gonna let that jackass waste any more of my time,” Badd explains blandly, and he doesn’t get what’s so hard to understand.

He turns to watch Garou, and catches him staring right back, eyes wide in a shocked expression. Then the ghost bursts out laughing, and it startles Badd, because it isn’t one of his damn chuckles: it’s an actual, full-throated laugh.

“What?” he asks, not knowing if he should feel cheerful or offended.

“You’re really something else,” Garou wheezes, theatrically pretending to wipe a tear away. “Man, I wish you’d killed my last host sooner - where were you all this time?!”

“You mean, that tiger level monster back when I met ya?”

“Yep,” Garou nods, sobering up a little. “I’ve been stuck with it for years. Never been so bored in my whole sorry existence. The bastard spent most of its time hiding from humans.”

“Why didn’t you kill it?”

“Because I can’t, obviously. I can touch my hosts, but I’m physically unable to harm them. I thought you’d figured that much out,” Garou explains, and his voice is regaining its teasing tone already.

“So that’s why you still haven’t tried to killed me,” Badd deadpans, feeling a little more up for banter than a moment ago.

“That, and also, who would you talk to if you didn’t have me?”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s pretend I’m not the one who’d kick your ass, why don’t we.”

“SAY WHAT??”

***

Garou doesn’t know exactly where he is during the day, when his host isn’t involved in a fight. Time passes differently, and for the most of it, he isn’t really conscious. It’s like he’s in some kind of stasis. And then, when he’s awake, he’s full of energy in a way humans probably can’t imagine. He wants to talk, to run, to explode and to scream. He wants to exist.

That’s why he likes fighting so much. It makes him feel useful. It makes him feel real. It’s the proof that he can leave his mark on a world he sometimes doubts he’s a part of. He’s had countless years to train, and he’s become strong - strong enough that he’s having a good time whatever the enemy.

But, well, fighting isn’t everything. He’s had dozens of hosts, and he’s never been able to walk too far away from them without slipping into his awkward rest mode again - only to find himself stuck with the same host when he wakes up again. Which always turns up to be incredibly boring. Between humans who mostly sleep at night and monsters who sometimes don’t talk at all, Garou has learnt the hard way that he’s, in fact, a talkative guy. And isn’t that a great thing to be when the only being in the whole universe who can see and hear you is your current host?

Garou has had his fair share of boredom, to say the least.

“Hey, dipshit, you awake?”

That’s why he’s more than happy with his new host.

“When have you seen me sleep before?” Garou replies with a playful smirk, tilting his head towards the voice.

It’s dark, and he’s outside, leaning his shoulder against the external wall of the house, arms crossed onto his chest. Badd is standing a few paces further and is giving him a vaguely annoyed look.

“Haven’t heard what I just said, have ya? We’re goin’ for a walk. Come on.”

“Why, babe, it almost sounds like a date,” Garou teases in his cheesiest tone.

“We’re out of food for Tama,” Badd goes on, unbothered, as if Garou hadn’t spoken at all. Damn, he’s good at ignoring him.

“Guess it can’t be helped,” Garou sighs loudly, trying very hard not to give away how eager he actually is to just… do something. Anything.

“Don’t make that face. We’ll make a lil’ detour by that shitty park - you know the one. Who knows what we might find there, at such an hour?” Badd grins, shifting his grip on his bat, and it seems like he’s eager, too.

Yeah, Garou thinks with an amused expression as he follows Badd into the street, that’s got to be his best host ever. Badd does sleep, of course, but far less than the average human - or, well, much later, so there’s that. He’s a hero, so he’s involved in more battles than Garou can count - and he’s good at fighting, in his own way. Not exactly the fast, calculated fighting Garou is used to, but rather a raw, brutal style, with a strength and a resilience that has forced Garou’s admiration more than once (meaning his host probably won’t die on him anytime soon - not that Garou would let that happen, anyway). Last but not least, Badd is fun to talk to, even if Garou’s constant teasing never seems to pull any reaction out of him - and that’s new, because all his previous hosts had let him get to their nerves so easily, but Badd won’t even acknowledge his little game, which is fun, too.

It’s fun because it allows him to push as far as he wants without risking damaging the balance they have found, and the domesticity of it is making him more relaxed than he’s ever been.

The park is quiet and empty when they get there. Garou tries not to feel frustrated, and fails. He’s glad he can stretch his legs a little, but he really could use some action right now. It’s been days since they last were in a fight.

“Shit, we’ll have to actually buy food for your stupid cat, won’t we,” Garou mutters.

“Don’t call her that,” Badd snaps, looking down at his phone. “But yeah, looks like everything’s fine tonight. Let’s go before the nightshop closes.”

So Badd won’t react to shameless flirting, but he will defend his goddamn cat. Garou smiles as he stores the information for later use, and makes to turn around and leave - except he doesn’t.

He suddenly feels like his whole body is being weighed down. He frowns down at his feet and insists.

He stays perfectly still.

“Well, well,” a smug voice says, “That’s a pretty friend you’ve got here, Metal Bat.”

Garou furrows his brow harder. There’s a man approaching - a random dude, all dressed up in a suit, hands in his pockets. On Garou’s left, Badd moves freely to face the newcomer.

“I dunno what yer talkin’ about,” his host says, sounding only mildly annoyed. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Thomas J. Lambert, at your service,” the guy introduces himself with assurance as he comes to a stop right before Badd. His attitude exhales cockiness and audacity. Garou already hates him.

“Never heard of ya,” Badd casually drops, as unimpressed as he always is. Which seems to suck a little of the fun out of the guy. Oh, he’s really good at this.

“Well, let’s just say that I’m an esper with… very specific abilities,” the douchebag goes on, and he sounds just a tad irritated. “I can feel the aura of your pet from miles away,” he adds, not even bothering to glance in Garou’s direction.

What a prick.

“I can hear you, y’know,” Garou interjects.

“And I can interact with it, too. My power is keeping it paralyzed as we talk,” Thomas Jerk  What’s-His-Name goes on, and he still won’t spare a glance at Garou. Badd does, though.

“Ya better hurry up and spit out what ya wanna say already,” he mutters, expression halfway between nonplussed and upset.

“It’s simple, really. I can rid you of this parasite - in exchange for financial compensation, naturally.”

“Oi! I’m right here,” Garou repeats louder, because he is beginning to lose his patience. He tries against his invisible restraints, without success.

His host is silent for long enough that Garou looks back up at him, and he is stunned to see Badd is grinning slightly.

Like he finds this whole situation funny.

The bastard.

“I’d make you a special price, of course,” Mr Jackass is still saying. “It would be my pleasure to help a S-Class hero out. What do you say?”

There’s a short silence.

Then Badd makes the most self-satisfied, shit-eating smile Garou has ever seen.

“How much would that be, exactly?”

“YOU ABSOLUTE ASSHO-”

“OKAY! Okay! Jesus,” Badd laughs, before turning back to the guy. “Sorry, fella, that’s… kind of you, I guess? but I’m not interested.”

“Are you certain, sir? Just think about it,” the son of a bitch insists. “I’m sure a hero like you could use a little peace at night.”

“Nah, I’m fine, thanks. Let him go, we’re moving,” Badd says as he begins to walk towards the exit of the park - only for the guy to block his way, hands lifted in a soothing attitude.

“What about the next host, then? Surely you wouldn’t willfully condemn someone to wear that burden after you.”

“Someone would hafta kill me first, and it ain’t for so soon.” Badd is probably starting to feel pissed, because he’s articulating every word distinctly, voice low and threatening. “I said I’m not interested. Let. Him. Go.”

The brat suddenly seems hesitant, but the pressure around Garou’s body doesn’t lessen. What is he playing at? No one in their right mind would want to get on Badd’s ner-

“I didn’t want it to come to this,” the walnut says, and his voice doesn’t sound human at all anymore.

Three things happen simultaneously. The force blocking Garou slightly diminishes, allowing him to take a single, difficult step forward. Badd falls down on one knee, as if he is now being crushed. And the suit of the esper tears itself apart, revealing a slender figure with what looks like a second pair of arms.

 A monster.

“Can’t say I was expecting to run into Metal Bat today,” the monster crackles, and its face doesn’t have anything human left either. “But you happen to be linked to a very powerful creature. I need to kill it to absorb its energy.”

“As if,” Garou snarls, taking another heavy step forward, struggling to regain more control over his body. Come on. Come on!

“I can’t have you protecting that thing,” the monster goes on, as if it doesn’t know how to shut the fuck up anymore. “But I don’t mean you any harm. We don’t have to be enemies. I’ll just keep you still while I take care of it.”

From the corner of his eye, Garou sees Badd brace himself on his bat and start to get up, but the monster points a finger at him, and he’s sent back to his knees.

The pressure on Garou loosens up a little more.

That fucker can’t immobilize us both completely, he realizes.

He tentatively straightens himself up and rolls his shoulders. His muscles feel heavy and slow as they strain against the still-there tension, but they obey him. He smirks. I can work with that.

“Your pet is still too weakened to overcome me, any-”

The monster is interrupted as Garou tackles it to the ground.

The close up fight is messy - a bit too much for Garou’s liking. He has to put all his focus on every move he makes, and even like that, he can feel how uncharacteristically slow and weak his attacks are.

“Shit,” he hisses against his better judgement when the monster hits him square in the shoulder. It doesn’t exactly hurt, but it does make him take a step back, and damn, he should have ducked that one.

He knows he should go for the arms. If he could tear one or two off, he’d have more room to use his usual techniques. But the esper knows better than to let Garou get too close, which is infuriating. It constantly jumps just out of reach, and only hits when Garou’s momentum prevents him from reacting in time.

I could use some fucking fighting spirit right now, Garou thinks, and he almost chuckles at the thought. Badd’s style isn’t always the most refined, but in Garou’s position, he’d probably still have enough raw strength to beat the shit out of that motherfucker.

Shame Badd isn’t in Garou’s position. The esper had said it’d concentrate on keeping the hero out of this, which is why Garou can move at all. Big fucking A.

Garou is pulled out of his thoughts as something punches him hard in the stomach, and the hit sends him flying a few feet away. “Dammit,” he swears as he raises to his feet again, reaching to the trail of blood that leaks from his mouth with trembling fingers.

He’s already getting tired.

And the monster only seems to become faster with each passing moment.

Its attacks still aren’t powerful enough to cause any serious injury, but time isn’t playing in Garou’s favor here.

I need to end this, he thinks. The sooner the better. He takes a deep breath and shifts his weight on his feet. He won’t win by his usual ways. He needs to rely less on the speed he currently doesn’t have, and to focus more on the few hits he can land if he wants to -

Right behind him, the monster emits something that might be a giggle, and Garou realizes it’s must closer than he’d thought.

He startles, turns on his heels, puts his guard up and braces himself -

The monster is hit by a metal bat on its side and violently crushes into the trees nearby, leaving greenish, fuming fluids all over the place.

Badd is standing in its place, and his face is maculated in red.

“You’re bleeding,” his host informs him, slightly out of breath.

Garou can’t believe this guy.

“I’m - ?! Dude, your face! What happened?”

“Hit myself,” Badd shrugs, swinging his now red-and-green bat on his shoulder, keeping an eye on the monster’s form where it landed. “To clear my mind of that jerk’s shit.”

“You -”

Garou trails off, because he needs a while to process this. A few paces away, the monster wiggles sluggishly - it isn’t dead yet, as the slight pressure still weighting Garou down should have let him know, and they should go on and finish it now, but he’s too stunned to get a move on.

So instead, he blinks and lets himself slip into more familiar ground as he cracks a flirtatious smile.

“Really? You hit your own head with your fucking bat just to give me a hand?” he grins cockily. “Man, are you that desperate?”

“For you, yes,” Badd states - he doesn’t whisper it, he doesn’t shy away from it, he states it, loud and plain, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Like it doesn’t make Garou suddenly feel warm all over.

For the first time ever, he doesn’t know what to say.

“Oh, so you’re the biggest bloody flirt there is, but I can’t flirt back?” Badd teases him with an all too knowing grin, before casually walking to the monster and delivering it the final blow.

Garou can feel his invisible restrains vanishing, but he still doesn’t know how to move. Or how to talk, for that matter.

“Come on,” Badd laughs as he shakes his bat to rid it of the monster’s gore. “If we run, we can make it to the nightshop in time to buy Tama’s food.”

“Wait-” Garou yells after him. “Wait, did you actually -”

“Come on!” Badd yells back, tone playful, and he’s already gone.

For a few more seconds, Garou just stands there, arms stupidly hanging at his sides, mind gone completely blank. Then a wide, amused, unbelieving smile spreads on his face, and he chases after Badd.

He’s blushing hard, but he can’t bring himself to care.

Badd cares.

And they have all the time in their intertwined lives to figure things out.

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Three Hundred Sixty-One: Raindrops ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ] [ AO3 Link ]

Another early Winter day...another bout of rain.

Waking slowly, Hinata peers out from her bed, blankets brought up to her nose. Unlike the chill outside, her room is nice and cozy, the temptation to linger in bed a while longer strong indeed. But eventually she stirs, slipping out from the sheets and making to dress. Tank and shorts are exchanged for a wooly sweater dress. Combined with tights and boots, she’s ready for her day.

The space upstairs isn’t the biggest - much like a studio apartment. The kitchen is tiny, combined with a place to sit and eat. A couch and a desk in a corner serve for as much of a living room as she can manage. Everything is a theme of white and lilac, little space left over beyond the necessities. But given that the shop takes up the entirety of the downstairs, there’s only so much space here to work with.

Not that she minds. Hinata’s always been a bit of a...compact person. While not against open spaces, she just...doesn’t have a use for them. Each square foot has a purpose here, and there’s less room for clutter or a need to be cleaned.

A win in her book.

Breakfast is a simple affair: eggs boiled yesterday are peeled and sliced on top of toast with a little salt and pepper, black tea with a small dollop of honey helping to wash it down as she checks her phone. The news, as is typical, offers only dreary, depressing topics. Her Facebook is full of people presenting only their best sides. Hardly realistic, and inspiring more insecurity than happiness.

But she’s never really been the sort to linger on such things. The social media she has is mostly just to keep in touch with people. The connection and yet distance is just perfect for her. She chats with friends from high school when it’s convenient, but doesn’t have to sit through several hours of in-person interaction that just drains her more than it satisfies her.

Once she’s at least part way caught up with the ways of the world, Hinata tidies up after herself before heading downstairs, unlocking the door at the bottom of the stairwell that leads to the back of the shop.

As always, the smell of flowers hits her like a very pleasant ton of bricks, and a smile blooms over her face. Everything is just as she left it the night before. Shelves of supplies are fully stocked, her arrangements of plants near the windows to entice passersby to come in and take a closer look. The floor was swept before bed, and the lights come on to bathe the room in a pleasant ivory hue.

While some people drudge on in their day to day lives, Hinata counts herself very lucky to have a job she loves every day.

Having twenty minutes before it’s time to open, she does one last sweep of her inventory, making sure nothing is empty or misplaced. The coolers holding cut and pre-arranged flowers hum in the quiet, and Hinata uses the last bit of time to water the plants in the windows. Raindrops slither down the panes, warping her view to the outside like a watercolor painting. The tones beyond are mostly dreary, greyed out by the overcast weather.

But Hinata loves the rain. And Winter as a whole, even if it means most plants are dead or sleeping. In here, and in the attached greenhouse, she gets to be surrounded by them all year round. And help others enjoy them, too!

Just as she finishes, the clock strikes nine, and she flips the sign in the door to, “Open”.

Of course, she doesn’t expect many walk-ins. This time of year, most of her patronage comes online, or on the phone: people ordering bouquets, for the most part. As much as she loves arranging flowers, it does make her sad not to see more potted plants sold. After all, cut flowers only last so long. Pretty and eye-catching...but so quick to wither. A bit of a waste, really.

But not everyone can handle a full-time plant, of course. And she’d rather someone unable use cut flowers than let a live plant fade.

Checking her website in the meantime, Hinata finds a handful of new orders, moving them to her tablet as she gets to work creating the arrangements. Most probably won’t come to pick them up until tomorrow, as per her warning to wait at least twenty-four hours. But she might as well get them done now, just in case something else comes up to -

Jingle!

Coming up a bit short as the bell over the door rings, Hinata blinks wide eyes in surprise. A customer! Given the rain, she’d assumed few would bother to come in!

A man stands by the door, shaking off his umbrella just outside before closing it and stepping fully inside. He gives the shop a curious once over before spying her by the counter.

“Hello,” she greets, giving a smile. “How can I help you, sir?”

“Uh...looking for a plant…”

As always, Hinata withhold a small snort at the comment. Given he’s come to a flower shop, that much is...typically obvious. “Of course! Do you have anything specific in mind?”

“Not really? I...don’t know much about them, in all honesty,” he replies, a hand at his neck.

“May I ask what the occasion is…?”

“Just a bit of a pick-me-up for my mom. She’s got those Winter blues, y’know? And she always has a garden in the Summer, so...I thought maybe having something in the house would give her something to do.”

At that, Hinata perks up. “I see! Does she, um...have any favorites?”

“I really don’t know,” he offers, giving a small huff of sheepish laughter. “I barely know what any flowers are regardless.”

“I see...well, what about a favorite color?”

“Well, most of her flowers tend to be bright. Yellow, orange, red...mostly red, I think.”

“Hm…” Hinata moves to the front, looking over her collection. “Amaryllis is usually a good choice. They’re v-very easy to care for, and have very pretty red blooms,” she begins, gesturing to one she has in a dark green pot. “And she can move it outside in the Summer! Every year it will get a little bigger as the bulb grows.”

“...bulb?”

Hinata hesitates for a moment. “...um...sort of like an onion…? It’s a s-structure for the plant underground, and the plant grows up from it. It allows a plant to be a perennial, meaning...it will come back multiple years, rather than just one, like an annual.”

“Oh...well, I guess that will work.”

...she hasn’t shown him anything else, but it seems he’s not picky in the slightest. “All right! Do you like the pot it’s in? I can change it out if not.”

“That should work.”

“Perfect.” Taking the plant from the display, Hinata sets it on the counter and starts ringing up the exchange. “I’m sure she’ll be glad to have some color in all this dreary weather, huh?”

“Yeah, that was my thinking. Mom’s always been the sort to really dim down during the Winter. She likes the snow when it’s still fresh and pretty, but when it’s just rainy and foggy, it sort of wears on her.”

“Understandable,” Hinata agrees.

“Hey, uh...how long has this shop been here, by the way?”

“Well...let me think…” Hinata pauses, counting the times. “...at least about twenty years?”

“Whoa, seriously?”

“Mhm.” Scanning the barcode, Hinata fiddles with the register. “It was my m-mother’s. She divorced my father when I was very young, and came here. The shop owner employed her, and we lived upstairs. Eventually she managed to buy it. She passed away a few years ago, and...it’s been mine since.”

He suddenly feels rather awkward, shifting his stance a bit at the somber subject. “...I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you…”

“I just, y’know...thought you looked kinda young. I looked online first and saw you run the place.”

“I’m twenty-four.”

“Huh, me too. Did you go to school here…?”

“I was homeschooled.”

His brows lift. “Wow...so your mom worked and taught you? She must’ve been one hell of a woman.”

That earns a warm but somber smile. “...she was. Her name was Hanako.”

“Guess that explains why I don’t recognize you. What was your name, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“...oh! It’s Hinata. Hinata Hyūga.”

“I’m Sasuke Uchiha. Nice t’meet you.”

“You too.” Smiling a bit more genuinely, she gives him his total, accepting cash and giving him the proper change. “I h-hope your mother enjoys her flowers!”

“Maybe I’ll come back and let you know how it goes. And uh...see if I need anything else. Uh...do I need anything else?”

“Not for now, no. I keep everyone properly watered and fertilized, but she’ll likely need some plant food and fertilizer once it runs out. And once it gets too b-big for the pot, it’ll need a bigger one. But she should be all set for now!”

“Ah, thanks.” Cradling the pot in one arm, he prepares to open his umbrella with the other. “Have a nice day.”

“You too!” Skirting around the counter, she holds the door open for him, waving as he makes his way down the sidewalk. Huh...he walked…? In this weather?

...what a strange man.

Curious, she pulls her phone from her pocket, doing a little digging through a few friends’ Facebooks. Within a minute, she finds him: a mutual friend of several of her own. Huh...funny how they’ve never crossed paths until now. Of course, her being homeschooled is likely to blame. She knows a few girls her age through her mother’s friendships with their mothers, but otherwise she’s rather...reclusive.

Curiosity piqued, it takes her a moment to remember she was indeed working on something - or, starting to - when he arrived.

Best get back to work.

                                                        .oOo.

     Random modern flower shop AU cuz...I felt like something a lil fluffy lol - also this idea for the family dynamic wouldn't leave me alone. In other words, Hanako leaves Hiashi before having Hanabi, so she doesn't pass from birth complications. She DOES still die a bit young, but gets to properly raise her daughter on her OWN terms.      Might be something neat to explore in a canon setting at some point, too.      Anywho! Sorry for missing last night, I just...had a day that kept piling things on, so I took the evening off to spend some time with my brother. It was a much needed break~ But! I'll be back in a jiffy to post another so I don't fall any further behind! As always, thanks for reading~

[chyrstis]

I won’t ask for much (but just this once, I’d like you) 4/10

I spent way too long looking at warplanes for this one, because 1) they’re pretty, and 2) after mentioning a certain someone’s plane in the previous chapter, there was no way I wasn’t going to have it pop up again.

Pairing: Sharky Boshaw x John Seed Rating: E (but only for Ch. 10, the rest are a solid T) Word Count: 3.5K  

Link to AO3!

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch. 4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9 / Ch. 10

—

Sharky steals a boat. It just happens to be John’s boat, and when it’s damaged along with his boathouse, John proceeds to lay out a means of having Sharky pay him back. [No Cult AU]

———–

“So, where is it? Where’s all of the shit-talking I used to look forward to? Like, by now I was getting ready for the good stuff, but it’s running out.”

Sharky paused, dropping the tire back down into the back of Hurk’s truck. “About what?”

“Really?” Hurk asked, gaping at him. “You know, the asshat that’s been blackmailing you into doing his dirty work for the last month and a half? Thinking he’s slicker than a greased pig, and he might be because who the hell knows what he uses to keep his hair like that. And palms. You grease those too, not just for jerking, and cuz, you’re killing me here.”

“It’s…I’m not gonna lie, he’s really wigging me out at times. Acting like it’s good to have me around to help and shit. ‘Cause I don’t always work on the boathouse. I’ve helped Joe, I’ve helped move stuff around on the airstrip, I’ve run stuff down to the Peggies’ church. And yeah, being told ‘you’re going to do this today’ instead of doing what I was planning on doing sucks, but the Peggies are kinda nice.”

He wasn’t thinking much of it when Hurk grabbed the firehose running out front. Jerry-rigged outside, it was usually his last-ditch effort when any of the fires outgrew their boundaries.

So, it was easy enough to grab. Easy enough to aim, and - in Hurk’s case - easy enough to point and shoot, especially while he kept his mouth running, none the wiser.

“And John’s all right, too. I know it’s kind of-whoa, whoa, what the-“ A wave of freezing cold water hit his chest, and Sharky sputtered as he threw his hands up. “What the fuck, man? Jesus, just cool it! Cool it!”

Hurk aimed it up and away, and jabbed a finger at him.

“Straight talk. You point me to the spot in the woods where my fave cuz’s tied up and waiting to be beamed up, and I swear I’ll let you go. ‘Til then, you better talk faster, because I don’t even know where to go with ‘Oh, John and the Peggies? Yeah, they’re all right.’”

Teeth chattering, Sharky shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you, man. It’s better. Like he’s decided it’s okay to be a person for once.”

This time he was hit in the face, and he threw both middle fingers Hurk’s way before finally wrangling the hose away from him.

“That’s up my nose now,” he grumbled, feeling it burn as he forced air through it. “Up my nose, which is one of the top ten worst feelings to deal with. Hope you’re proud of yourself.”

The spray at Hurk mid-apology was kind of a jerk move on his end, but Hurk had earned it. That and the noogie, as Sharky wrangled him under his arm. If he was going to be forced to drip-dry out here, he wasn’t dealing with that shit alone.

The roar of an engine overhead made him loosen his grip, however. Both of them glanced up, their attention won by the plane soaring by.

Usually Sharky would catch one every once in a blue moon out over here. With the steep hills, it wasn’t always best if you needed to land the plane in an emergency, but that didn’t stop anyone from taking them as high as the pilot wanted it.

This one wasn’t too high in the sky, though. Painted a darker color, it cut a fine line through the air above as it climbed. Spinning in a smooth arc, it curved - rounding back - and Hurk let out a low whistle.

“Look at that, huh? Bet Nick gets up to all kinds of fancy shit up there when he’s off the ground.”

“Yeah. Should ask him if he’d take us up sometime.”

Watching the plane loop back, the pull was almost strong enough to make him want to book it to Nick’s right now. He’d always been curious about the high that came with being in the air; how that ramped up during a dive, or even on a sharp turn.

Something about this plane bugged him, though. Like there was something he was missing that should’ve hit, but wasn’t.

“Uh, I don’t know. I’ve been up in a bunch of choppers, man, and it’s real sketchy once the cross-winds hit. Gets my lunch doing a loop-de-loop hairier than any airshow’s special, and that feeling even hits when I’m in Tulip.”

“Why? Your ma’s damn good at what she does.”

“It’s always squirrely, feeling the entire thing rock back and forth, back and...” Hurk paused, and slapped at Sharky’s waving arm. “What’re you doing? He can’t see us from down here.”

“And why not? Yeah, he’s – or she, could be one badass babe up there - not skimming the ground, but they’re low enough to see what’s down here if they angle it right.”

Almost as if listening, the plane came back over; the roar of the engine echoing in the air as it came closer. Getting a better look at it now, he could see more of the slick paint job; the dark grey really reminding him of a color he’d seen recently.

As in, within-the-last-couple-of-weeks-or-so recent. Like in a hangar, half-hidden under a tarp.

Finally slapping those last missing puzzle pieces into place, it all clicked this time, and Sharky’s eyes widened.

“Uh, I think that’s John.”

“Say what?”

Hurk’s surprise wasn’t too far off from his own. “Dude, that’s his plane. I don’t think anyone else around here’s got a ride like that.”

Or even in that style, period. It stood out in the sky, and Sharky almost laughed to himself. He would want that attention, and showing off while he was at it? Seemed like a standard thing he’d try for, if given the shot - and right now? He looked set on taking it.

Diving down, his breath caught as the plane soared in a set line towards the ground. Daring to get as close as possible - cutting it a lot closer than he would’ve if given the chance - only to shoot back up above the trees, spinning on the exit.

Yeah, that was John.

Whistling loudly, Sharky whooped before punching Hurk in the shoulder. “Oh, come on. That was pretty fucking neat.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Hurk cracked soon after, smiling. “Okay, it was pretty rad, but if that is him, and we ever run into each other and get to talking about it, we ain’t saying shit. Not a single word set on complimenting, talking nice, or doing any of that. Period.”

The plane didn’t come back this time, heading out over the fields as it faded from view.

“Nope,” Sharky said absently, as he kept his eyes skyward. “Not a single fucking word.”

---

Later that day when he messaged John to tell him he was heading in, he didn’t get his usual answer.

Busy in the hangar. Stop by there, will you?

The doors were open as he pulled up outside, and he couldn’t see John when he stepped out. His plane was front and center, one of the side panels open with a tool cart rolled up next to it, and he walked up to get a closer look.

“Tempting as it is, try not to stick your hand in there.”

Sharky held both up, and quickly stepped back. “I didn’t do it.”

“I didn’t say you did anything.” John walked up from behind, wiping his hands down with a towel, smirking all the while. “Just wouldn’t want to lose a finger now. That would be a surefire way to ruin an evening.”

Against all odds, he hadn’t lost one yet. Not to any of his homemade whizzlers, not to any of the cherry bombs, and not to that one incident with the paper cutter in school. Now, really would be a lame time to do it, and in front of John? He’d never live it down.

Flexing his fingers - all ten of them - he shoved both hands into his pockets, and turned towards him.

Dressed in his version of casual, the shirt John was wearing was still too pricey to be anywhere near oil or heavy machinery, but that didn’t faze him. His hands were dirty and he was doing the work. Actually getting in there and taking care of it, instead of shoving it onto someone else, and Sharky could respect that.

But the moves he pulled in the air earlier? Thinking back on them made a whistle want to slip out. John could fly. There was no fucking doubt about it, and he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t want to catch him up in the air again at some point.

“So, uh…you take her out today?”

“I might’ve had to check to see how things were running,” John said with a shrug.

“You fly out over towards the Henbane?”

John raised his head, eyeing him curiously. “Maybe. Why do you ask?”

“See, I was out with my cousin Hurk. Just unloading some tires to use for um, crafting purposes.”

“Crafting. I never took you for the type.”

“Not like the kind with paper, glue, and scissors. Like tire sculptures, or just taking the shit apart to see what we can get out of it, ‘cause there’s at least twenty things you can do with a worn-out tire. We’ve honed it down to an art, man.”

John said nothing further, only examined his hands as he wiped off more of the dirt. He looked up to catch Sharky’s eye while he worked, reminding him that he’d been telling a story before he’d trailed off.

Sharky cleared his throat. Loudly. “Uh, anyway. You, flying.”

John redirected his attention to his hands, but Sharky didn’t miss the way his lips had curved up. “I thought it was you, working?”

“Me, working, distracted by you, flying, and I know I got twisted around in the middle of that, but I saw you earlier. Your plane flying over my house. Now you’re the only guy around here with anything coming close to having one of those warplanes they’d call you in to borrow for re-enactments, movie deals - or, hell - for admiring and shit, so don’t go denying it. And don’t go fucking with me either, ‘cause I know what I saw.”

“Good eye. Sharper than I expected.” John set the towel down on the cart, and walked over to the plane. “Perhaps you can put that eye for detail to good use tonight.”

“What?”

“Affirmation does need some tuning. I was hoping to have it finished before you came by, but…” John frowned, eyeing the engine with distaste. “As you can see here, I’m not quite done yet.”

“Ah, I get that. Shit never works out how you plan it, not with cars, bikes, and I guess planes fit in there too. You wanna get that oil changed before the sun’s up? Should take twenty to thirty minutes max, giving you time to see if the tires are bald enough to turn the road into a dirt-covered slip and slide. Probably would've noticed before then, but it's good to check. And if you’re looking at that, might as well try the brakes.”

He watched John roll over the tool cart, giving him a glance over his shoulder as he did so. Taking the gesture as a signal to keep on going, Sharky took a place just behind him by the cart, and settled in to watch him work.

“…And that weird leak you forgot about two weeks ago? Kiss your afternoon goodbye, ‘cause your radiator’s busted and might’ve been roasting your car from the inside out.”

“Sounds like someone’s speaking from experience.”

“Man, you don’t even know how many times I’ve had my shitbox crater on me. And I take care of it. Maybe not using the stuff that’ll keep the mechanic off of my back if I need to bring it in, but it runs. And I can keep it going on nothing but lint, duct tape, and quarters if I have to.”

“And somehow, in spite of that, it hasn’t exploded or found a way to catch on fire?”

“It did catch on fire. Once.”

John’s eyebrows flew up. “With you in it?”

“Sort of. I might’ve hopped out right after the smoke started coming, ‘cause that crisped-up burnt smell ain’t normal even with a busted heater, but I handled it. Drove it right on down to the Spread Eagle just in time for Happy Hour, too.”

Blinking at him, John slowly turned back to the engine. “Is that the same car you’ve been bringing here?”

“Yep.”

John paused again. “The one that I’ve ridden in?”

“Same one. Drove it, too.”

A few emotions crossed John’s face then. Disbelief held on the longest, as he turned to look right at Sharky.

“What? Like I said, it runs. Long as it does that, I don’t need anything fancier than that to get around. And, hey, if that shit ever does go up and someone needs to handle it, you know I’m damn near certified by this point.”

“Knowing that the county’s resident pyromaniac should be able to put out the fire he also started is not as reassuring as it sounds.”

Sharky frowned. “Yo, you really wanna say that? Seeing as you’re someone that keeps talking shit, all while needing people to call you, confide in you, and hire you for the whole defending-them-in-court thing? Not doing great on the being-anything-but-a-dick part. Just saying.”

John narrowed his eyes, but didn’t fight the point. Just went back to work, and Sharky wasn’t sure what to do with the victory.

Shaking it off, he crossed his arms and tried not to fidget as he watched him. Doing nothing at all was the real challenge, having no choice but to be patient and keep an eye on John instead.

But he hadn’t kicked him out, or told him to go where he was needed most. He was sure he would’ve told him to head down to the boathouse by now - or hell, that he would’ve gone on his own - but he didn’t feel like leaving yet. Not even after the dig. Curiosity won this fight, and he’d let it do its thing for a little while longer.

Glancing over at him, John gave it a second and gestured towards the cart. “Can you hand me that wrench?”

Sharky followed his line of sight towards it. Taking it, he handed it over and couldn’t hold his tongue any more.

“So, you do all of this on your own?”

“It’s important to be able to identify problems as they appear. I could hire someone to do that for me. Easily leave this to them, but having that knowledge beforehand - especially if I do end up having to land - is crucial. And I refuse to let willful ignorance prevent me from fixing anything well within my power and ability. That, and laziness.”

“Laziness?”

“What’s my problem becomes someone else’s to fix. To mend. Affirmation is my responsibility. Shouldn’t I be well aware of how it’s operating before I take off? That kind of carelessness can be prevented.”

“Makes sense.”

“I hope so. Any pilot would do the same if they had any degree of pride in their skills.”

Sharky rubbed at his neck. “Yeah, guess Nick goes through the same checks too. And if I had one, guess I’d have to break out the old toolbox and get into it.”

“Treated better than your car, I would hope?”

“Uh, still fucking rude for one, and two, hell yeah I would. Shit, the closest I’ve come to flying, period, was through honoring Clutch Nixon a few years back – rest his badass, no-longer-beating heart – and I was airborne long enough to love it. If I had a plane, I’d treat her right.”

Sitting up, John gave him a long look. “That doesn’t count.”

“What don’t count?”

“Stunt driving isn’t close to the same thing.”

“So you say, but you haven’t taken a motherfucking dive off of a cliff, amigo.”

“It’s not-” John pressed his fingers to his temples and sighed. “There are measures taken.”

“Yeah, and I know you gotta do more than mess around with your joystick up there, but the fall’s real. The pounding in your heart as it just-” He clenched his fist, and let out a breath, “Fuck, man, you feel alive coming back from that. And get one hell of a massive boner while you’re at it.”

Lowering his hand, John leveled a flat stare at him.

“Yeah, had to give that last one a solid seven point five out of ten. Hell, maybe an eight.”

Still clenching his fist, Sharky held the eye contact, grinning awkwardly all the while. At least until he noticed the marks on John’s face. Three small dark spots, all of which came from his equally stained fingers.

The snicker slipped out before he could help it. “You, uh, got a little something on you.”

Gesturing towards his face, John reached up and nearly added another before glancing down at his fingers. “Shit.”

“Yeah, dude. Might be able to connect the dots at the rate you’re going.”

“Let me just…where did that get to?”

He sorted through the items on the cart before finding the discarded towel, and checked it before swiping at his face.

“Might wanna go to the left.” John shifted it, the spot turning into a streak, and Sharky grimaced. “Uh, maybe to the right?” Streaked again. “Huh. Think you might wanna go back to what you were doing the first time.”

“You aren’t helping,” John said, slapping down the towel to search through the items on the cart. “So, how about you go occupy yourself over there, and we’ll get back to this when I’m certain I’m not covered in dirt.”

John had pointed towards the refrigerator, and Sharky gave him a passing glance before skipping over towards it.

“Could be worse, man. Not like it’s a sharpied dick, or anything.”

Prying the doors open, Sharky didn’t know what he was looking for at first. He knew John had hidden the mystery beer here last time, but that wasn’t what he spotted. No, on the shelves was a pack of his old faithful, and he felt a tear come to his eye.

“Is that acceptable?”

Sharky reached in and held up the six pack, sighing dreamily as he hugged it to his face. “Amigo, I think you’re my new best friend now.”

He heard John scoff somewhere behind him, and turned to see him parked in front of a small handheld mirror. One of the streaks was a bonafide line traveling up the side of his face now, and smeared more when John swiped a finger through it. Tossing the mirror back onto the cart, he clenched his jaw, and went right back to the plane without even waiting for him to come back.

“So, John,” Sharky started, popping the cap off of the beer, “you want me to stick with you up here, dude? ‘Cause I was going to head on down to the river at some point. Just looked like you needed me more up here than there at the time, and…”

“There’s no need.” John replied, his back still to him. “You’ve been making significant progress lately down at the boathouse. Anything else would put you ahead. And after staying up here as long as you have, you’ve earned the time to yourself, if you want it.”

Free to go? Again?

That had him scratching his head as he polished off the beer fast. “Uh, okay. Like, I can do whatever the hell I want?”

“Whatever you want.”

That was music to his ears. At least it would’ve been every other week leading up to this one.

Thinking it over for a while, Sharky tried to think of anything he would’ve done with the time. Anything pressing he’d set aside to come out here after helping Hurk earlier, but couldn’t put his finger on a single thing. Just a whole lot of nothing that would’ve led to a night spent in his underwear on the couch mixing together shit he probably shouldn’t have, or up at the trailer park tuning the speakers.

So, when he looked back over towards the plane, he aimed the bottle in his hand towards it. “You still need someone up here?”

There was the sound of metal hitting metal as John froze. But when he turned to face him, there was no mistaking his surprise.

"What?" Sharky shrugged. “I’ve got the rest of the day to myself, and usually that’s spent doing jack and shit when work’s not coming in, so…if you need it, I’m here. Not that it’s really that big of a deal anyway, you know?”

That got him a smile. One that John held onto long after Sharky expected him to drop it, and he chuckled. “I suppose not.”

“This’ll be the highlight of my day, and I’d like to stick around. Unless you want me out.”

He thought it over, but not for longer than a minute. “If I did, I would’ve told you so.”

“So, back to work?” Sharky asked, starting to smile himself.

John stepped back and held out a hand towards the plane. “Back to work.”

[katealot]

Like the Back of my Hand

Chapter 9 of Solangelo Soulmate AU

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Word count: 4,160

tags: #solangelo, #will solace, #nico di Angelo, #soulmate au, #pjo, #hoo, #katealot, #LikeTheBackOfMyHand, #fanfiction, #katealot writes, #Doctor!Will Solace, #Artist!Nico Di Angelo

Previously: Nico brown eyes gazed into his shining blue ones, and before he has a reason, he places a hand on his freckled cheek. Will's skin is soft and warm even though the outside air and his apartment isn't. He brushes some of his golden hair away from his face with the other hand and lets it rest at the base of his neck. With one final mental check, he rises onto his tip toes and pecks him sweetly on the lips.

It's short, ending as soon as it began, but as he pulls back he sees how Will's eyes have shut and how he chases after his mouth for a second before his eyes are opening again. The look he gives him is so tender it's criminal. Will cups the hand that still lays on his cheek.

"And Gods... every time you kiss me."

"Have I told you these are my favorite pastries? Or did you somehow guess that?"

Will shrugs as he chews, sitting next to Nico on his couch, Pluto curled up in his lap.

"Well it was a good guess." He inhales the rich aroma of the warm chocolate croissant before biting it clean in half. With a full mouth he mumbles, "Reminds me of home."

Will glanced sideways at him. Nico was a pretty secretive person. He kept his walls built high, and every once in a while he could peek through a crack in the mortar.

Nico noticed his curious, but not prying, gaze and almost dismissed it but couldn't find a reason after all these months to keep it from him.

"When I was little I lived in Venice with my mom and sister. My mom made us go to church twice a week, and, well, you know, we were kids so to get us to stop complaining, she'd take us to this little pastry shop after each service and let us pick something out. Bianca always picked different things to... I don't know, build a palette? But I always picked these. Every time." He took another bite. "The ones in Italy are so much better."

"Hey!" Will said with a gentle kick to his knee.

Nico laughed.

"Or maybe its just my rose tinted glasses making me remember them differently."

Will hummed thoughtfully and stroked down the spine of the purring cat in his lap. After a while of quiet contemplation, Will spoke again.

"How'd you end up here?"

Nico looked toward him. Not many people have showed much interest in his life. Or maybe that was his tendency to keep to himself.

"We moved to DC when I was six and um... and then my mom died and I uh. Well it was just me and Bee. We were able to stay out of social services because," he cleared his throat, "well cuz my dad got us a really good lawyer. You know I used to be so angry at him. He never came around or called and- and he didn't take us when mom died! He just left us in the hands of this lawyer...." The words came out like oil spilling from a busted rig. He swallowed and continued. "Anyways. We moved around a lot. We lived in Las Vegas for a while, and then Maine and then we got to New York and that's where I stayed." He looked down at his hands. Weakly he said, "Go Yanks."

He looked back up to see how uncomfortable Will must be. But he was met with a gentle, listening gaze. He felt his shoulders relax of tension he hadn't realized he'd been keeping.

"And Bianca?"

His breath hitched. He knew it'd come up eventually. It wasn't time for secrets anymore. He gulped. He let out a shaky breath. The rest of his words were so quiet, Will has to listen closely to catch every word.

"Yeah um.......... a- a few years back there was an accident, um. Sh-she didn't make it."

Quiet. The kind of loaded quiet that hangs in the air when there is terrible news and no one knows quite what to say.

"Nico." He didn't look up but suddenly there was a hand on his thigh. "I'm so so sorry."

He shrugged and attempted a weak smile that doesn't quite reach.

"It's okay." He said. "It wasn't your fault. It wasn't anyone's fault." 

The way he said that last remark made it sound like he was trying to convince himself just as much as he was trying to convince Will. The rest of his half eaten croissant was abandoned, as though he'd lost his appetite.

"Hey, at least something came from it though, right?" He chimed back in. "After that, my dad finally called, said I could stay with him if I wanted to. I go to California for a year and find out I have another sister. You know at first I thought he was trying to replace her. Ya know... 'here have this new one'. And maybe he was but... she was sweet to me. Didn't try and invade my life. You know I only started calling her my sister a couple years ago?"

Will smiled.

"Is that so?"

"You should have seen her face. Man, she lit up like a Christmas tree. She'd always been an only child so I say the word sister and she almost tackles me."

Will laughs at that.

"That's the girl on your phone background, right?"

"Snoopy are we?"

Will turned pink.

"It's just curiosity."

Nico chuckled.

"Yeah, that's Hazel." He pulled out his phone and clicked the home button and sure enough, there she was. "We took a trip to Europe not too long ago, she insisted I took pictures of her in front of literally everything. But this one's a candid. She was positively enamored by the Eiffel Tower. I think it's kind of bland during the day but boy if it doesn't capture your attention by night. It twinkles, did you know that?" He finally looked away from his phone and back up, when he was struck by the way he was being watched.

Will was looking at him with the smallest most satisfied smile on his face.

"No," Will said softly, proving he had been paying perfect attention, "I didn't know that."

He had this look... like he could listen to him talk for hours. It made Nico blush and he cleared his throat awkwardly. Both of them were quiet for a bit and Nico nibbled at his half eaten breakfast to fill the space.

Will continued watching him, his body angled side-ways sitting cross-legged on the couch, one elbow perched atop and holding his head in a tilt as he studied him. Will had looked at Nico hundreds of times and yet every time he studied him he found a new thing to admire. The way his hair doesn't curl but for the base of his neck. How his nose curves up just so at the end. How his eyes are so very similar to the portrait of the girl he keeps on the coffee table. Today, Nico was framed in sunlight coming in from his window. He'd found a few more things but one that he was surprised he'd never seen yet was a little mole on his shoulder toward his back, just where the collar of a shirt could hide one. Nico cleared his throat again, unsure of what to do.

On his lap, Pluto made a "murp" noise which brought Nico's attention down. He smiled at the cat and scratched the top of his head.

After what felt like a small eternity, Will took a breath in and narrowed his eyes thoughtfully at his ebony haired companion.

Nico looked back at him, waiting for him to say what was clearly on his mind.

"What?" Nico said.

Will stayed quite for only a second more. He let out his breath and spoke.

"Go out with me."

This took Nico aback. He looked at Will who looked at him. He let out a nervous laugh that he also halted rather quickly.

"H-what?"

"Go out on a date with me."

"Where is this coming from?" Nico deflected.

Will took his elbow off the couch and leveled his line of sight with him.

"Does it have to come from somewhere? I know spontaneity isn't always your thing but..." he took in another quiet breath, "I am enamored by you. And I want the opportunity to take you out and show you just how important this-" he nodded between them "is to me. So let me take you out."

Nico gaped.

"O... Okay."

Will beamed. Nico looked around for the physical manifestation of what to do next.

"Just let me shower first, I guess."

He started to get up and Will's eyes went wide.

"Not today!" Nico stopped in his tracks. Will let out a little laugh. "I'm trying to give you the most memorable date of your life, I need a few days to plan."

Nico sunk back into his seat with a smile. It was at this moment Pluto decided he was done lounging with these nerds. He hopped from Will's lap and strolled over to the balcony to curl up and lounge in the sunlight shining through. Nico took this as an opportunity to occupy the newly vacated spot on his lap. He threw his legs up and trapped Will where he sat. Their eyes met.

"You done for the day?"

Will looked at his watch.

"I got shift in four-ish hours but I'm free in the meantime."

Nico hummed in acknowledgment and then looked thoughtful for a bit.

"What?" Will mused at his expression. Nico raised an eyebrow at him.

"Have you watched To All The Boys I've Loved Before?"

That's how, an hour later, Will finds himself laying on Nico's chest (a task that took some unceremonious crawling and not entirely accidental tackling to achieve) listening to the gentle rhythmic thrum of his heartbeat and trying to breath in time with him as they watch Lara Jean and Peter get cozy in a hot tub.

Nico sighed and Will shifted his gaze up to his face.

"Yeah?" Will asked, a smile ghosting his lips.

Nico glanced at him and then returned his attention to the small TV.

"Nothing, just... what I wouldn't give to be straddling Noah Centineo in a hot tub."

Will huffed and put on his best offended expression but laughed through his words.

"Oh, having me as a weighted blanket not getting you hot and bothered enough?" He folded his hands up and propped his head atop them.

Nico chuckled, the vibration of which shook Will, much to his delight.

"I'm not saying it's not, but have you seen him? The man has a jawline that could cut diamond."

"I resent that." Was all Will replied before he laid his head back down. That too made Nico laugh and he half-unconsciously wrapped his arms around him. Nico started rubbing gentle circles on Will's lower back. Without really meaning to, Will let out a contented sigh.

"Yeah?" Nico echoed him softly with a teasing lilt in his voice.

"Yeah." Was all Will said.

He wiggled up so his head could fit neatly under Nico's chin and they watched the movie.

It was approaching late afternoon, and the sun had hidden behind the rolling grey clouds that predicted an evening shower. The rumble of thunder didn't help in establishing a non-drowsy environment as Will felt himself nodding off in the warm embrace of the other boy.

Another fifty minutes pass by. The credits began to roll and Nico turned his gaze on his companion.

"Well that was an-" He stopped. Will was dead asleep, his arms slotted up underneath Nico's. The way he lay gave Nico the perfect opportunity to study his face totally relaxed.

His eyelashes were darker than his hair, almost brunette, and longer than he'd seen on most other men. His lips were parted just slightly in his slumber, not peeling but maybe a little chapped and perfectly pink. He joked, but Nico gazed in absolute adoration at the soft curves of his jaw and the plumpness of his cheeks, painted with freckles that he would never tire of trying to count.

His face was like something out of a painting. Cherubic, innocent. Perfect in every conceivable way. Nico could feel his past self rolling his eyes at the positively gushy feeling that overtook him when he looked at Will. He probably could have looked at him for hours until they both fell asleep, and he was prepared to do just that when he was rudely interrupted by the truly heinous noise his stomach made.

HHERGHARR! It pleaded, ruining a perfectly intimate moment. Nico glared up at the ceiling as if to blame some god for inconvenient timing but it struck him how hungry he was. He sighed, looking boyward again before he muttered a quiet alright and began to gently stir his human blanket.

"Hrm?" Will made the general noises of freshly awoken confusion and, upon the realization that Nico was in fact trying to get out from under him, made a coherent sentence. "Noooo." He squeezed his midsection and tried the best one can to lay down harder than he currently was. Nico giggled. 

"I gotta get up, I'm gonna make dinner." He whispered.

"Dinner is for chumps." Will said directly into Nico's chest. Nico laughed a little more at that, but continued with his efforts to get Will off him long enough to stand- a battle he was currently losing. 

"Of all the people I thought might say that to me..." He mused and tried shoving himself into a more upright sitting position to gain leverage.

Will groaned louder as his opponent started getting the upper hand. And then he was struck by a deviously good idea. He changed tactics. He turned his face up and pressed a slow kiss to Nico's neck.

He froze. Will did a mental fist pump.

"Don't go." He uttered against the warm skin his lips where lingering on.

"W-Will..." Nico's voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. "I'm just going to make us food-"

Will didn't let him get very far because that did not sound like an acceptance to his proposal. He shifted and kissed a spot further up his neck, moving toward his ear. Nico's breath hitched against his will.

"Will-" Nico choked out, still not sounding ready to give in. He kissed him again right below the ear and then took the lobe between his teeth and tugged.

"Will!" Nico shot up, effectively throwing Will to the other side of the couch, and moved so that he was pinning Will's wrists next to him. The look in his eyes suggested he had enough, and Will wondered if he'd gone too far with the joke. He was overcome by a feeling of guilt, Nico was just trying to make them dinner after all, he could at least be courteous guest. He met Nico's tense eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-" He was cut off by Nico practically attacking his mouth. He ducked in with lightning speed and kissed him something fierce, still pinning his wrists against the couch. Once the shock of the matter wore off, Will closed his eyes and kissed him back hungrily. After a moment, though, Nico pulled away, Will chasing after his retreating lips. Will opened his eyes and they stared at each other before Will tried going in for a second round. Nico, however, pulled his face away and ducked around to kiss Will's neck before scrabbling off of him. 

In a daze, Will lay on the couch trying to collect himself. He ran one of his hands through his hair and looked in the direction of where Nico had walked off to.

Nico, meanwhile was headed toward the kitchen sink where he washed his hands with some nice cold water. 

Neither of them said much- Nico clinking around the kitchen for dinner making tools, face red, and Will trying hardily to even his breathing as he wondered if the pounding in his chest was as loud to everyone else as it was to him.

At one point or another, Nico had paused long enough to put on his cooking playlist and got to work making an old classic.

He heard Will pipe up from the living room.

"Hey, there's a bathroom in your bedroom, right?" He asked.

"Yeah," Nico answered, "only door on the left." 

He saw Will nod in understanding and get up to head toward the back of the apartment. 

Little did he know Will was really hoping to explore the place a little. 

As he headed back, he passed a room just before the bedroom from which he heard a gentle rumbling. He nudged open the door and found the laundry room, decorated sporadically with detergent bottles and hangers, as well as various cat supplies. A litter box sit in the corner next to the door and on top of the warm, running dryer lay a sleeping and perfectly content Pluto. He smiled and resumed his route.

He pushed open the door to Nico's room and was greeted with a sight he knew well enough. The only furniture in the room was his king sized bed, the two side tables on either side of it, and the dresser on the opposite wall. Aside from his unmade bed, he kept a fairly tidy room. There was a dim light coming from the only window in the room, shining an evening glow on the dark red painted walls. Will had read in some study that the color of a room can have subtle effects on a person's mood, and that certain tones could elicit certain emotions, like blue having a calming effect. He recalled red being linked to feelings of anger, passion and lust. He shook his head and moved his feet toward the bathroom. 

The small facilities was nothing fancy. He had a bath/shower combo which was a 50/50 sight in any New York apartment but from the looks of the rest of the house, Nico clearly wasn't scraping the absolute bottom of the barrel on living funds. He admired the light he had hanging above the sink and mirror, sort of an industrial bare-bone lampshade made of wire. Sort of reminded him of something Nico could have sculpted himself.

After finishing up, he wandered out again to the living space. He leaned against the back of the couch and glanced around the remainder of the space. Nico had a desk set up opposite the entertainment system with a laptop and what looked like every type of art supply one could conjure in their mind. Near the front door was another room, as far as Will could tell, one he never paid much mind to. He pushed himself off the couch and walked toward it. 

"What's in here?" He asked in the kitchen's general direction. 

Nico's head popped out of the open door frame as he looked to where Will was indicating. 

"Oh, that's just a closet. Don't use it all that much."

Will nodded. 

"Keep anything spooky in there?" He asked teasingly, "Monsters and such?"

He didn't see him but he heard Nico's response. 

"Naw, nothing like that. Just the usual stuff: Some coats, an easel, the skeletons of past lovers..."

"What was that last one?" Will shot back.

"An Easle?" Nico said, a smile clearly on his lips.

Will laughed and joined his partner in the kitchen where the fixings of Spaghetti and Meatballs where coming together very nicely. 

"Smells good." He commented with a smile. 

Nico glanced over his shoulder with a similar smile and hummed in response. Will leaned against the door frame and watched him. He seemed incredibly comfortable in here. Like he was at home when he was cooking. He glided from place to place with practiced ease. To the cupboard for spices, then to the fridge for Parmesan, the stove to stir the sauce he had simmering and crouching to check on the garlic bread sending out waves of a truly mouthwatering aroma from the oven. Once again he's struck by how little he truly knows about him. Sure, he's got a personality to fit his usually brooding demeanor but from one glance, you'd never be able to guess that he was a natural in a kitchen. The song coming from the speaker on the counter-top was in that same language he'd heard a few times before.

"Italian?" He inferred. Nico wiped his hands on a towel on his shoulder and turned to face him while leaning his back against the counter.

"You're Italian... and you're making me spaghetti and meatballs?" Will quirked an eyebrow quizzically. 

"Hey," Nico said, falsely defensive, "It's cheap and easy." He turned back to the stove and turned off the heat to the big pot of pasta. 

"Ah," Will looked elsewhere, "I see the kind of meals I'm worthy of..." 

Nico spun on his heels. 

"That:" he pointed toward the stove, "Cheap and Easy." He started toward him. "This:" He wiggled his finger between the two of them and when he arrived in front of him, he grabbed Will by the front of his shirt and pulled him down into an undeniably sweet kiss. Will melted into it, exhaling against him and closing his eyes. When Nico pulled away after a moment, Will opened his eyes and was met with a smirking Nico as he finished his thought, "Priceless." 

Nico still had a grip on him, although now it was more for the sake of lingering there. Will inhaled. Nico tasted like sweet tomato sauce, and smelled like garlic. He smiled.

"And?" 

Nico thought about it a moment. 

"And... Incomparable."

Will snorted which made Nico grin almost involuntarily. 

"You can't use incomparable as an antonym to easy." 

Nico- still smiling and still holding on darted his eyes back to Will's lips and chased his bliss with another kiss. 

He pulled away.

"You sure?" 

Will was floating on air. He grinned.

"Hmm." He pondered playfully. "Yeah, pretty sure." He looked back down for the shorter boy's predictable reply.

This time Nico let go of Will's wrinkling shirt and snaked his hands over and around his neck. He held the back of his head so gently and pressed up onto his toes to place one last slow and incredibly tender kiss on his awaiting lips. Will's hands found their own way to Nico's hips, fingertips just barely reaching under his shirt to land gently on the bare skin just above his waistband. They stayed that way, ebbing and flowing for several sensational seconds until they separated at last.

"Oh, you know what? I just remembered. They do mean opposite things." Will said. 

Nico giggled and the sound traveled from his throat to Will's as he finally stepped away and back toward his work station.

Shortly thereafter, they find laughing at nothing and everything while they wrap up their very filling meal. On either end of the table, a beaming boy, drunk off the other's company. Nico had even managed to break out a singular candle to set the mood in the waning natural light (it was meant as a joke but they wouldn't trade the ambiance it created for a lifetime of immortality).

Will checked his watch and sighed. Nico glanced at the thing and back to him.

"Gotta head out?" He propped his arm up and rested his cheek in his palm. Will met his gaze with regretful confirmation.

"Yeah... But hey," he piped up "dinner was phenomenal. And I'll see you later tonight, er, tomorrow morning, if you'd like..." he let the words trail off as he asked the unspoken question. Can I stay?

"Tomorrow," Nico smiled back at him warmly, "I'd love that." 

No matter how much he was sure- or at least he hoped he was sure- that would be his answer, Will still let out a sigh of relief and looked back up appreciatively. 

"Good! Great. Excellent." He stood up and cleared both of their places from the table. 

Nico stay where he sat, listening to the faucet and the clinking of dishes being rinsed, playing over the afternoon and evening blissfully in his head. He couldn't help the way his lips curled around the edges, and he buried his blushing face in his hands.

Will finished washing up, dried his hands and grabbed his keys from the counter behind Nico. When he returned to Nico's side, he reached down, gently took hold of his chin, tilted it toward him and leaned down to kiss him. Nico could live in that moment. Just forever present in an eternity of contentment. When Will pulled away he, he kept his forefinger and thumb cradling his chin, and locked eyes with him.

"Thank you." He said, barely above a whisper. Then he tilted Nico's head enough to plant another quick kiss on his forehead. 

By the time Nico regained all five senses, Will was already at the door. He opened it and turned, shooting one last dazzling grin at him and said,

"I'll see you later." And closed the door. 

Nico heard his footsteps retreating. He sat there for another five minutes, melting like the wax off the single centerpiece candle from the unmistakable affection the whole evening had been dripping with. It was the kind of gooey, sweet, sap filled atmosphere that could make Willy Wonka's teeth ripen with cavities. 

He finally gained the strength to move from his chair to blow out the candle and start getting ready for bed. 

And five blocks away, on a subway travelling downtown, a blonde boy stands, swaying with the movement of the car and a general feeling of elation... whistling. 

[aroseandapen]

Hitting the nail right on the head (or the head on the nail)

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Fandom: Danganronpa V3: Killing Harmony Rating: Teen/Mature? Yeah Pairing: None Word Count: 2366 Summary: In a re-write of a scene from the chapter 3 investigation, Kurochi Ouma finds his brother in the hall lying face-down in his own blood.

Some things to note for this:

I guess this was inspired by the Kokichi-has-a-twin theory, but not actually really related to it (I haven’t even done any research into it actually! And as of right now I’m not interested in jumping into theories and stuff).

Mostly written as I was watching someone play through Chapter 4. As of posting this, I just finished the Chapter 5 trial.

Kurochi is the Ultimate Cryptographer in this. Not relevant in this drabble, though.

Written for Ry! @tricky-leader, who dragged me into hyperfixation hell with this amazing boi.

“I’m going to go back to Angie’s lab,” Kurochi announced, not expecting any response as he turned back to the door. Perhaps he could check the scene again once more—there had to be some clue that pointed towards a victim that wasn’t a vengeful spirit risen from the dead.

“Ah, I’ll come with you—I think I’m done checking on everything in here,” Shuichi said, to his surprise.

“Yes, Angie’s death is the one we should be investigating, it’d be wise to do another look around.” And Maki as well, to his dismay.

Not that he could do anything about it. He shrugged, nudging open the door with an air of nonchalance so as not to betray the tension that he felt. Whenever he looked at Maki, all he could see was her hand around his brother’s throat. Unfortunately, she and Shuichi were investigating together, and Kurochi didn’t think he’d get anywhere if he snapped that no, she could not continue her investigation that would undoubtedly benefit them all during the class trial. So he kept his sighs to himself, and stepped into the hall—

—to find a body on the floor.

His breath tore from his throat in a ragged exhale, the air stolen from his lungs and the heat from his veins. For a good minute, he didn’t understand the scene before him, because it just couldn’t be real. It couldn’t. First Angie… then Tenko… then… but… it couldn’t be—.

A gasp behind him as Shuichi and Maki exited the room startled him, scattered thoughts crashing together like on stretched elastic bands, leaving his mind more tangled than before. His head spun, eyes fixed on the body, the rhythm of his heart in his chest a rapid staccato against his rib cage.

“Kokichi!” He heard his own voice call out his brother’s name, not conscious of saying it himself. The scene looked unreal; the room spun around him. Blood. Kokichi. Kokichi’s blood. On the floor. He gaped, mouth working open and closed without another sound escaping it. Dead, his brother was—.

The bloody face rose from the floor. Kokichi’s trademark grin beamed up at them, like blood didn’t drip down the sides of his face, like a small pool of crimson hadn’t gathered where his head had been resting, and Kurochi didn’t know whether he wanted to cry or shake his brother silly for scaring him like that.

Worse still, Kokichi sprang up from the floor, graceful as ever. His laughter rang out as if he’d told some hilarious joke, but none of them mirrored his actions. Kurochi couldn’t move, feet rooted to the ground. Part of him thought that it had to be a hallucination, his shock forcing his imagination to deny the truth and conjure the image of his newly deceased brother up and on his feet. His eyes fell to the floor, to the blood staining the wood. He felt sick.

“Did I surprise you? Were you going to scream and cry in terror?” Kokichi laughed, carrying on like nothing happened.

Yes you did, you bloody jerk, Kurochi wanted to say, but the unintentional pun stirred a queasy feeling in his stomach. He couldn’t find his voice past the lump in his throat. All he managed was a hard swallow and wide-eyed stare while he waited for the tilted room to right itself. Was the room even askew? Everything in the damn world was screwed up, culminated in his own brother’s death during this hellish game they’d been thrust into. In that moment, nothing felt real to him. Kurochi could vanish from the face of the earth, and it’d still go on indifferent to his plight.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

Kurochi jumped at Shuichi’s voice, head whipping in the direction of the two others in the room. In his surprise, he’d forgotten that Shuichi and Maki had accompanied him out into the hall. He shook his head, trying to clear it of the static building up inside and finding it impossible to do. Only one thought managed to surface in the hopeless mess of thoughts and anxiety in his mind; if Shuichi saw Kokichi move and grin then Kurochi wasn’t seeing ghosts. Kokichi really was alright.

His gaze drifted back to the blood spattered against the floorboard. Not alright, actually. That didn’t seem any level of ‘alright’ to him, but Kokichi was alive for certain, and perhaps that was blessing enough in the middle of a killing game.

When Kokichi didn’t immediately respond, Kurochi’s eyes snapped back to his brother’s face. He looked faint, swaying side to side. A tight ball formed in his chest as he rushed to Kokichi’s side with quick shaky steps, placing a steadying hand on his brother’s shoulder. He could feel Kokichi trembling under his touch with a motion so slight that he wouldn’t have noticed if not for the physical contact.

“Kokichi?”

His brother started. He dipped his shoulder, stepping to the side to subtly pull away from Kurochi’s touch. The grin returned to his face with greater force than before, as if to hold his dazed expression at bay. “Oh, sorry… I’m just a little light-headed from the blood loss. Yeah this is real blood…”

Silence punctuated his admission. Kurochi felt his heart twist in his chest, letting his hand fall to his side, but he didn’t say anything. Shuichi spoke up first, hesitance coloring his tone. “…Okay, so what are you doing?”

An innocent question, and yet a hot flame of anger ran through him. Just like that, Kokichi’s injury no longer mattered, even while the blood remained shiny and wet on his face. Kurochi whirled on Shuoichi, face twisted. For the first time since they woke up in that godforsaken place did he raise his voice at the other, shoving his words at him with a sharp bite to them. “Oh you know, he’s only bleeding from a head wound, what else!”

That seemed to shame him. Shuichi shifted in obvious discomfort, not daring to meet Kurochi’s glare, gaze fixed on Kokichi instead. Good.

“It’s fine, Kurochi!” Kokichi waved him off with a giggle. “I just got curious about something, so I decided to search the empty room next door. Th-then suddenly…”

Once again the grin dropped from his face, his mouth a stiff line as a queer look shadowed it. Kurochi stepped closer on instinct, hand once again on Kokichi’s shoulder with a firm grip on it. Not giving his brother a chance to back out, he reached out with his free hand to push his hair back to check on the wound. Right there on his forehead, no longer bleeding but still fresh. It took a beat longer than last for Kokichi to try and move away again, a hand at his wrist peeling Kurochi’s from his forehead. His hand came away red and sticky.

It took a moment for Kokichi to find his train of thought again to continue. “I-I stepped through the floorboard.”

“You stepped through the floorboard?” This time Shuichi had the witherall to sound concerned, although Kurochi didn’t know whether from worry for Kokichi or for the problematic floorboards themselves. As angry as the thought made him, he at least understood that much. The floorboards fit so well together that stepping through any of them shouldn’t be possible. It made for a dangerous place to walk.

“Geez, that got me good.” If Kokichi couldn’t find it in him to pretend, the pain must be terrible. With the shudders that ran through him, Kurochi feared that Kokichi really would collapse under just the weight of his hand. He clenched his hands into fists, resisting the urge to grab his shoulder again, lest he’d be rebuffed for a third time. “Cuz of this, I-I tripped and fell pretty hard.”

When Kokichi drifted back into a dazed silence, Maki’s cold tone echoed in the quiet hall. “If you’re going to lose consciousness, do it after you tell us everything.”

Kurochi never felt the urge to strike someone as much as he did in that moment. He wanted to punch that condescending expression right off that girl’s face, especially when Kokichi immediately forced a smile back onto his face and apologized for his own faintness. A head injury, he has a concussion, Kurochi wanted to snap at her. Even if she hates his brother’s guts, she could at least show some basic human empathy for a guy that looked like he was about to pass out.

He forced back the desire. Punching the Ultimate Assassin could only end poorly for a tiny, thin-armed boy who literally couldn’t throw a punch to save his life. He swallowed back the sensation of his own uselessness rising in his throat like bile, remembering how easily Maki had wrapped her hand around his brother’s throat. In the end he couldn’t do anything, just like he couldn’t now.

All unaware of how dearly Kurochi wanted to hit Maki, Kokichi told them what had happened, that a crosspiece under the floorboard was missing and caused his foot to fall through when he put his weight on it. Before he could tell them anything more than that, however, the school bell rang out, signaling the end of the investigation.

Maki looked more disappointed than she had any right to at that. “I guess… time is up.”

“Aw maaaan, it’s cuz of you guys, I didn’t have enough time to check on something…”

Kurochi sent his brother an incredulous look. When they’d come out into the hall, they’d found Kokichi face down on the ground. Although he’d played it off like a trick, Kurochi couldn’t help but think that he hadn’t intentionally laid down there waiting for someone to pass him by and think that a third person had died. Especially if he’d wanted to check on something. Kurochi didn’t think that he could’ve gotten to it regardless of their interference.

“What were you trying to check?” Shuichi asked at the same time as Kurochi said, “Maybe you should’ve been getting your head checked.”

“Aww Kurochi, that’s mean! I actually wanted to re-research the seance again, so I brought this document with me.” Kokichi held up The Caged Child, waving it before he flipped open to the page with the seance instructions on it. The three of them shuffled closer to look down at the book with him. “But unfortunately, I couldn’t find anything new that could be used as a clue. Kiyo perfectly reenacted the seance as what was written in the document. He drew his magic circle the same exact way as in this picture.”

Kokichi tilted his head, either thinking about something or fighting back the effects of his head wound. Kurochi wished that he’d been present during the seance, just so he knew firsthand what had happened during it. For the most part however, he was glad that he hadn’t been. Not that he thought that ghosts were real, but maybe it was better not to test out his theories with the supernatural like that.

And Kurochi wasn’t keen on being there when Tenko died.

A beat passed, and Kokichi continued, “Not only that, he used the same exact tools too. Nothing suspicious about this whole thing. Well, I wanted to check the finer details but…” Kokichi grimaced. “I-I’ll tell you about it later… a-at the… class trial so… see ya there…”

With unsteady balance, Kokichi turned and began to make his way down the hall. His footing seemed off, the effects of the blood loss obvious in each shaky step. Kurochi lurched forward, making it to his brother’s side before he could get too far on his own. No way was he going to let him collapse on the way without anyone around to help him back up or to give two shits about him in the slightest. Neither Shuichi nor Maki seemed inclined to care in any case, so Kurochi would have to do that all himself.

Yet they only made it a few steps more before Shuichi cleared his throat, calling out, “Ah… Kokichi?”

Kurochi glanced back over his shoulder while Kokichi slowly turned about to face him. Shuichi wore a sheepish expression, one which Kokichi returned with another forced grin. He wanted to be away before his entire facade broke, Kurochi knew, and Shuichi was making that difficult here. “Yes, Shuichi?”

“Are you… going to be ok?”

A brief silence followed the question. Kurochi looked to his brother to see that a contemplative expression had overtaken his face, mouth pressed into an oddly serious line. Or perhaps that was because of the concussion as well. But after the moment passed, a mischievous smile lit up his eyes. Kokichi shrugged and tucked his hands behind his head. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll die before I even get to the class trial. Nee-heehee, then you’re going to have to figure out who killed Angie without my adorable face there. I hope you cry for me, Shuichi—except no, that’s a lie. An evil overlord like me doesn’t need tears from those on the opposite side of the law, but thank you for your concern Mr. Detective. I’ll see ya soon!”

Kokichi’s grin turned sly just before he spun back around. The movement had him teetering on his feet, losing some of the effect of his little speech. Kurochi reached out to steady him, and Kokichi managed not to topple over. Once he righted himself, he continued down the hall with greater purpose, steps heavy and echoing in the empty hall. “Either in the class trial, or together in Hell!”

As the brothers made their retreat, Kurochi heard Maki speaking to Shuichi, telling him to just ignore Kokichi. She wouldn’t care whether he died or not, even if he was completely innocent. At least Shuichi had proved him wrong just now, even if he had to be properly scolded before he voiced his concern. There was hope for him yet.

Kurochi steered his brother into the bathroom on their way out. Time to get him cleaned up and to check on his injuring before Kokichi went and hurt himself even more.

[jonghofancam]

What’s in the box!?

Fandom: BTS  Pairing: Mild jintaekook  Rating: G (FLUFF!!!!) Word count: 1674  Summary: A mysterious present left sitting in the living room. Two extremely curious guys. One very unfunny hyung. Or… Taehyung and Jungkook come home after a long day of dance practice and don’t appreciate Jin’s jokes. (cross posted on ao3) 

(i’d like to thank @choicoco cuz i forced her to inspire me to write this)

There was nothing better than coming home after a long day of dance practice. All Taehyung and Jungkook wanted to do was change out of their sweaty clothes, drop down onto the couch, and zone out for the next twelve hours. After a quick change and a bit of freshening up two exhausted boys made their way to the living room, excited by the prospect of doing absolutely nothing… until their eyes fell on a very peculiar item sitting on the coffee table.

Crisp white paper.

A neat red bow.

A perfect square box.

Why was there a present on their coffee table?

“Not my birthday.” Jungkook said, slightly wide eyed, as if Taehyung didn’t know that.

“Same goes for me.” Tae responded quickly, as if Jungkook didn’t know that either.

“Who do you think it’s for?” Jungkook asked as the two began their cautious approach.

“Who do you think it’s from?” Taehyung added, as they surrounded the package.

They seemed on edge, their fluffy hair nearly lifting at the tips with tension, as if the box could explode with even the slightest wrong movement. Until Jungkook’s eyes narrowed in on the rectangular note hanging off the side of the box. He glanced at Tae, who glanced back at him. With a nod from both boys, Jungkook picked it up and began to read.

               To: Taehyungie & Jungkookie

               From: Worldwide Handsome Jin

               A present for the youngest members who have been working so hard!!

               Don’t open it until your hyung gets home!

               I’ll give you a hint though: I’m not telling ;)

Jungkook dropped the note as the boys dropped to their knees beside the table. All their energy had been restored by this mysterious box that Jin had left for them. What could be in it!? There was no particularly strong odor, and the box wasn’t very large… Maybe it was a game system, or a new pair of shoes… two new pairs of shoes. Taehyung reached out to poke the box, as if that would reveal the secrets that it held. Nothing happened.

“He’s evil,” Jungkook whined.

“Listen, he can’t be gone for that much longer.” Taehyung said, as he pulled himself up and sat down on the couch, keeping his eyes locked on the present. “I’m sure he’ll be home soon and we can open it. Let’s just… watch some TV until he gets here.”

“But hyung,” Jungkook whined again as he pulled back and sat down beside Tae, “I want to know what’s in it.”

“Me too.” Taehyung said flatly.

“I’m going to kick his ass when he gets home.” Jungkook huffed. Taehyung snorted, his lips pulling back into a broad, toothy grin, as he slapped his friend on the shoulder. “We have to figure out what’s in there.” Jungkook said, laughing slightly himself as he leaned forward to stare more intently at the box.

“We can’t open it, he’ll know.” Taehyung suggested, and Jungkook nodded in agreement. “We should shake it… check the weight… we know Jin we could probably figure it out.”

“We can break into his computer and check his bank statements… that would solve everything.” Jungkook said casually as he reached for the box.

Teahyung grabbed his wrist. Jungkook froze.

“What if he sees that we moved it…” Tae said, his eyes narrowing again, “what if he doesn’t give it to us.”

“Then we take it from him!” Jungkook groaned. “Anyone could have moved it, hyung. Everyone was home at some point today and we don’t know when Jin hyung put it there! This is killing me! It looks so fancy. It’s gotta be expensive!” Jungkook whined as he threw himself back against the couch again. How annoying! “I’m honestly going to drop kick it across the room, it’s pissing me off. Where is Jin hyung!?”

“I don’t think kicking it will help…” Taehyung said tentatively, although he was feeling the same frustration that Jungkook was. “I’ll message him.” Taehyung said as he pulled his phone out.

               Tae: Hyung!!!!

The boys waited for a minute.

               Tae: Jin hyung!! Where are you!? We’re worried sick!!

Another minute passed. And then two.

               Tae: Come home already!!!!

Half a minute, and finally Taehyung’s phone buzzed.

               Jin: lololololol

The room… exploded. Taehyung screamed as he jumped up from the couch resisting his urge to chuck his phone into the kitchen, as Jungkook groaned and cursed, throwing himself down onto the couch face first and flailing. They collapsed after that. Time became meaningless as the two sat there, tangled up in an exasperated mess of limbs, waiting for Jin to come home. It felt like hours had passed. Days. Weeks!

In reality it had been 15 minutes.

Jin walked through the door. Excited to see what sort of mess he had caused. He was half expecting to see the box ripped opened and paper all over the living room. Instead he found the box on the table, and Taehyung and Jungkook collapsed on the couch… eyes red from endless staring.

“And people say I’m the funny one,” Jin declared as he dropped down in the chair, his squeaky laugh slipping out as the two boys’ heads shot up.

“No one says you’re funny, hyung.” Jungkook grumbled.

“Hey!” Jin hissed, raising a hand to him. “After everything I’ve done for you! I even got you a present!” He huffed as he shook his head. “Well, what are you ungrateful little shits waiting for! Open it.” Jin declared, unable to keep the smile off his lips as he watched Tae and Jungkook lunge forward, each grabbing at different parts of the paper and tearing it open. They looked between the box and each other, and Jin couldn’t help but laugh.

“Jin hyung…” Jungkook started slowly, his eyes narrowing slightly as he stared down at the now open box. The box that had them on the edge of their seats for what felt like forever.

“Are… are you kidding?” Taehyung asked as he slowly looked from the box to Jin.

“It’s empty.” Jungkook said flatly, his eyebrows furrowed as he turned his head to look at Jin as well.

If looks could kill Jin would be dead. They couldn’t, though, and he didn’t seem particularly phased. It wasn’t as if he was treated with the most respect at any given time from these guys. Jin couldn’t help but laugh at the looks of pure anger coming from his friends. He wished someone else had been around to see this. Or that he’d put a camera in the living room. Oh that would have been smart! Shit! Oh well.

“I told you to wait for me to open it because I have the gift!” Jin declared as he got up from his seat. “One for you.” Jin chimed, as he leaned in and placed a kiss on Jungkook’s cheek. “And one for you.” He added as he quickly did the same to Taehyung before he could pull away.

“Are you kidding!?” Taehyung threw his head back in a groan.

Jin started laughing.

“No offence hyung, I’m going to kick you ass!” Jungkook declared. “Disgusting!” He added as he rubbed vigorously at his cheek.

Oh Jin really couldn’t breath this was so funny.

“We waited so long for that!? God we get more when you’re drunk!” Tae continued to complain.

Jin’s face was turning red, his eyes were starting to water.

“We get more when Jiminie’s drunk!” Jungkook added with another groan.

Jin doubled over as the two got up from their seat. Jungkook taking the opportunity to give the eldest a quick smack in the arm. Jin ignored it as he kept laughing.

“Oh you should see your faces!” He said through his squeaky laugh as the two began to leave, still cursing and grumbling. “Oh come on!” Jin called after them. “You two are no fun! You’d be laughing too if you were me.” He called out, wiping away a few tears. He rolled his eyes as Taehyung cursed back at him and walked over to the chair to pick up the bag that the two had obviously missed when he’d walked in. “Hey! I brought home takeout.” He called. “That was your real present. I picked up supper you ungrateful little brats!”

Taehyung and Jungkook stopped in their tracks. Both turning slowly, their eyes going immediately to the bag in Jin’s hand. The logo was promising. But the anger didn’t fade immediately, even as Jin held the bag up further and smell reached their noses. He could be pulling another lame prank. The bag could be empty. The smell could be fake. Jin could feel the tension in the air. He sighed as he stuck a hand in and pulled out a takeout container with a clear top, proving that he had in fact brought home supper.

“Hyung, hyung, hyung!” Jungkook chimed happily, his eyes widening suddenly as he and Taehyung ran forward. “Thank you!”

“Thank you Jin hyung.” Tae chimed as the biggest smile pushed onto his face. Jin cleared his throat, and Tae didn’t skip a beat. “World Wide Handsome hyungnim, thank you!” He repeated, nearly intoxicated by the smell.

The two leaned in, each plastering Jin’s cheeks, lips, and nose, with soft kisses as Jin giggled. All the while Tae’s hand slowly crept down and snatched the plastic bag out of Jin’s grip. He was the first to pull back. Laughing as he opened the bag and reveled in the smell, stepping back so Jin couldn’t grab it. Jungkook quickly pulled back too, laughing a bit as he started down at the bag.

No more thank yous were stated as the two turned their backs to Jin and began to head to one of their rooms, already prattling on about what they’d watch while they ate.  

“What about me?! My supper is in there too!” Jin yelled, but was met with no response. “No respect. I get no respect in this house.” He rolled his eyes as he quickly followed after the two, a small smile playing on his lips.

[adapted-batteries]

You are a Remarkably Attractive Man

Fandom: The Librarians

Rating: General/sfw

Relationship: Flynnstone

Word count: 2422

After annoying Jenkins, the trio get assigned various tasks as punishments. Stone, assigned to dusting Jenkins’s lab, ends up making more of a mess, much to Jenkins’s displeasure. 

Also posted on my Ao3.

-----

“How does cleaning your lab teach me anything?” Stone asked, annoyed as Jenkins scowled at him.

“It will give you a grand opportunity to peruse my belongings so you can keep your nose out of my work, that’s what it will do,” Jenkins said, tossing a soft cloth at Stone. “And I know you aren’t curious enough to open anything, nor do you have sticky fingers like Mr. Jones.”

Stone huffed in frustration, unable to argue on that with Jenkins.

“It could be worse,” Jenkins assured him, “you could have Mr. Jones’s fate of cleaning out the lake water tank.”

“You know ya just gave him a reason to go visit his kid, right?” Stone said, picking a dusty jar off a shelf to begin cleaning.

“Perhaps, but his...kid...will also guilt him into cleaning. What parent says no to their...lake monster child?” Jenkins added, walking towards the door. “I will leave you to your work. Please don’t sniff or taste anything, and if something breaks, do come get me as quickly as you can.”

“Will do,” Stone mumbled, gently taking jars and bottles off the wooden shelf, motes of dust fluttering off.

Jenkins had a lot of things in his lab, many of which didn’t get used all that often and thus collected a lot of dust. Besides the slight tickle in his nose, it was oddly satisfying to clean all of the shelves. He found himself humming various songs while he worked, some good ol’ country classics, like he did when he worked on the oil rig.

He wasn’t in much of a hurry to finish his job. There were many shelves in the lab, most of them loaded as full as they reasonably could be. One of them was too tall for Stone to reach from the floor. Sure, he could’ve not done the shelf (even if Jenkins was taller than him by several inches, he still couldn’t see that shelf), but Stone couldn’t leave a job unfinished.

A quick look around found a simple wooden step-ladder, giving Stone just enough height to be eye level with dust-layered surface. Upon closer inspection, one of the bottles, a dark-tinted glass with a wax-sealed cork, seemed significantly less dusty than the others. Stone didn’t pay it much mind and dusted it just as he did all the others.

“So you do like country!” Flynn said, suddenly announcing his presence rather loudly.

“What the fff-” Stone shouted, startled enough to drop the bottle in his hand. It smashed on the counter next to Flynn, splattering him with the liquid inside.

“Woah, didn’t mean to scare you, sorry about that. What is this stuff anyway?” Flynn asked, sniffing his sleeve. He looked up to Stone when he didn’t get a response. “Stone?”

“You are a remarkably attractive man,” Stone said, looking down at Flynn like he was the light of his life. Stone, suddenly wanting to be much closer to Flynn, got off the step-ladder, unknowingly putting his hand in the liquid and glass still on the counter.

“Wait...you said that when-” Flynn stuttered, confusion fading to determination as he leaned against the counter, attempting to look casual. “I never forgot how piercing your eyes are…”

---

After checking on Ezekiel, who thankfully was doing his job and not goofing around, and Cassandra working on the accounting backlog, much to Charlene’s annoyance (which she made known occasionally even from wherever she and Judson currently existed), Jenkins returned to his lab to see how far Stone had gotten in his cleaning. Low voices emanated from the room, not loud enough to distinguish words until he neared the doorway.

Upon seeing Flynn and Stone leaning quite close to each other, saying what sounded like poetry, Jenkins sighed. “Mr. Carsen, why are you distracting Mr. Stone with literature?” Neither man acknowledged Jenkins’s presence. Confused, Jenkins walked into the room, catching sight of the broken glass on the table, glancing up to the shelf where it once sat. “Of all the things to break, you just happened to break the incorrect obsession potion neutralizer.”

While he suffered the fate of listening to the two scholars quote the most impressive sounding love poems they could, Jenkins fervently retrieved the working antidote from a cabinet, pouring the contents into the all-purpose antique perfume bottle sitting next to it. Stone seemed to be making a move, his hand gripped Flynn’s arm, practically purring whatever he was quoting, slowly leaning more into Flynn’s space, to the point they were inches apart.

“Nope, not in my lab you don’t,” Jenkins called out, spraying Stone and Flynn in the face before Stone could close the distance. Their heads lolled forward as the antidote took hold, smacking each other, which brought them back to reality. “Having to listen to you two once was enough, please serenade each other elsewhere.”

Stone looked at Flynn, realized how close he was standing, promptly backed away a couple steps, then glanced at his hand to figure out why it was wet and hurting. “What happened?”

“You apparently dropped the first mix of antidote I made to cure you two from the obsession potion months ago,” Jenkins said, a hint of pity in his voice.

Stone glared at Flynn. “He made me drop it.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you! You were in your own little, country music loving world and didn’t hear me come in,”  Flynn retorted. He then looked at Jenkins. “Why would you keep that if it didn’t work properly?”

“I certainly didn’t think this would happen again. When it comes to potions such as that, a good maker knows to keep everything, just in case it becomes useful,” Jenkins justified himself. “I think you have done enough cleaning for now, Mr. Stone.”

“You sure? I can finish-”

“It’s fine, you were mostly done anyway,” Jenkins cut him off, trying to not show his annoyance.

“Come on,” Flynn said, tugging Stone by the arm to the door. “Let’s get that hand cleaned up.”

Flynn led him to the rather well hidden bathroom (why did the Library have to rearrange the bathroom so far away?), still tugging him unnecessarily. “I know the way, you don’t have to drag me there,” Stone mumbled.

Flynn looked down at his grip like he didn’t realize he was still holding on to Stone and let go, mildly flustered. “Sorry.”

“You alright?” Stone asked as they arrived at the door.

“Hm? Oh, uh, yeah, totally fine,” Flynn stammered as he opened the door and turned on the lights. The first aid kit hung on a hook, well used by the team over the years.  Flynn unzipped the kit and started rifling through the contents, pulling out the useful things like antibiotic ointment and disinfectant and a bandage or two. “Hey, don’t pick at the glass,” Flynn snapped, pulling out the tweezers.

“I can get glass out of my own hand,” Stone sighed, leaving his hand palm up on the counter for Flynn. Blood oozed around the shard, but thankfully only one sliver actually embedded in his hand deep enough to break skin.

“There, got it,” Flynn exclaimed, holding the shard up to confirm his victory before tossing it into the little garbage bin next to the counter. “Here, wipe off the blood.” Flynn handed him some clean gauze while he fiddled with the package of an alcohol wipe.  

“You don’t have to play nurse for me---aghhh,” Stone said, hissing when Flynn suddenly wiped the open wound.

“It’s fine. I’m the one who made you drop it in the first place,” Flynn replied, opening the tube of ointment. Stone offered a finger from his uninjured hand, waiting on Flynn. “Why did you say the same thing you did...last time?” Flynn asked as he squeezed some out on Stone’s finger.

“W...nnngh, what do ya mean?” Stone said, wincing slightly as he applied the ointment.

“Do you not remember?” Flynn asked, handing him a bandage he had started opening for Stone.

Stone took the bandage, pointedly not looking at Flynn while he did so. “I, uh, remember, a little.”

“Well, you said the exact same line as before,” Flynn started, waiting for Stone to look at him.

Stone fiddled with the bandage much longer than it actually took to put on his hand. He finally looked up to meet Flynn’s relentlessly curious stare. “What? I mean, it’s true,” he mumbled.

“Just happened to be the first thing that came to your mind...twice?” Flynn pressed, studying Stone’s face. Stone occupied himself with gathering the used gauze.

“Shut up, look, I’m bleedin’ ‘cuz of you,” Stone chided, waving his hand at Flynn.

“How noble of you, wounding yourself for me,” Flynn teased, smirking.

Stone made an exasperated noise, tossing the bloody gauze in the bin before stalking out of the bathroom.

“Hey, Stone, wait!” Flynn chased out of the bathroom after him, unnecessarily sprinting straight into Stone. In mid panic of him landing on his wounded hand, Flynn tried to grab him as he fell, but instead just managed to grab Stone’s arms and get dragged down with him. At the last second he got his knees under him, which left the two in the wonderfully awkward position of Stone on his back, arms gripped rather tightly by Flynn who straddled his hips.

“Seriously?” Stone huffed as he sucked in the breath Flynn just knocked out of him.

“At least you didn’t land on your hand?” Flynn offered, trying to find the silver lining.

“I wouldn’t be in this predicament if you hadn’t ran into me,” Stone countered.

“True,” Flynn responded.

Awkward silence hung between them until Stone spoke. “Can ya get off me?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, sorry I don’t know what I was doing, um,” Flynn rambled as he scrambled to his feet, offering a hand to Stone to pull him up. “Was just processing and I’ve kind of ruined your day and-”

“Hey, Flynn, it’s alright,” Stone interjected, squeezing Flynn’s hand to get him to quit talking. “Seriously though, what’s going on? You’ve been weird since Jenkins cured us...again.”

“It’s nothing,” Flynn answered too quickly, earning narrowed eyes from Stone. He glanced down at their hands intertwined; Stone made no effort to let go. “Um, heh, ever since the...first time...it kind of made me realize a few things about myself.”

“Oh,” was all Stone could manage when Flynn looked back up at him. A few moments later his words returned to him. “That’s why you’ve been weird around me then?”

Flynn let go of his hand, gesturing as he talked. “Yeah, well I was trying to process, or ignore feelings really, which apparently comes out in odd jokes no one else but you and maybe Jenkins would get and riling you up about various literature debates-”

“And rambling a lot,” Stone added, lightly chuckling.

“Uh yeah, and that.” Flynn raked his hand through his hair.

“To be fair, I didn’t let myself think about it either. And then I went off to Shangri-La and found myself missin’ you a lot,” Stone said, copying Flynn with his uninjured hand. “Though I thought you were being weird ‘cuz of Charlene and Apep and almost dying and all.”

“None of those situations helped,” Flynn clarified. “I didn’t let myself really deal with anything until after we got everything moved back in from D.O.S.A.”

“Heh, I was gone already by then,” Stone admitted.

Flynn attempted to communicate with words, but instead just opened and closed his mouth. Stone chuckled again, amused with Flynn’s fluster. Finally words returned to Flynn. “What am I supposed to say to that?”

“Oh, I dunno, that you feel the same, apparently?” Stone offered, attempting to will away the flush rising to his face.

“Well, I mean, yeah,” Flynn started, stopping when he realized his words, looking at Stone with intent.

It was Stone who closed the short distance, gently pressing his lips against Flynn’s.

It was Flynn who kissed back with passion, pressing him against the stone wall.

---

Sometime later the two made their way back through the Library, intent to make sure Jenkins wasn’t mad at them (and if he still was, doing whatever would appease him). Though they didn’t seem too aware of their tousled appearance, Jenkins definitely picked up on it.

“Did you at least properly dress his hand before you two finally had your fun?” Jenkins asked, looking up at them from a book he had on the counter in his lab.

“W...w...what yes his hand is fine,” Flynn stammered, embarrassed. Jenkins looked to Stone next to him, who looked pretty pleased with himself, or at least what he had to do with Flynn’s excessive stammering. “Is there anything else that needs to be done? Or in the Library? How’s the bug room doing?”

Jenkins rolled his eyes and sighed. “I’m not mad at you Flynn.”

“What?”

“It was an accident, and to be honest, there were a lot worse things that could’ve been dropped,” Jenkins clarified. Flynn literally sighed with relief; Stone relaxed as well, but didn’t show it as much. “You two go on and have fun, or well, you already did…”

“Yeah we did,” Stone added, a mild mix of smug and pleased with himself.

Flynn gawked at Stone. “Aaaand I’m leaving the room now,” he announced, turning on his heels and doing just that. Stone laughed watching him leave.

“If I had known it would take another round of the the potion, I could’ve done something months ago,” Jenkins said, smiling.

“A joke, from Jenkins? This day just keeps gettin’ better and better,” Stone said. “Nah, he needed time, a lot of it apparently.”

“Understandable, we’ve had quite a busy few months,” Jenkins replied. “And I’m not mad at you either, Jacob.”

“Thanks, I guess. I still feel bad though, I was tryin’ so hard not to break anything,” Stone said.

“I could tell. The shelves are spotless. It’s alright to have accidents every once and awhile,” Jenkins said. The smile reappeared on his face. “You better go find him, make sure he isn’t doing anything crazy in his post-sex haze.”

“Jenkins!” Stone exclaimed, which just earned a chuckle from the immortal knight. With another exasperated noise, Stone left the lab rather hastily, suddenly hoping Flynn wasn’t babbling to Cassandra or Ezekiel about what just happened, but even as he speed-walked down the hall, he still found himself feeling light and happy, smiling goofily because that’s exactly how he felt about Flynn.

-----

Post Notes: This is set sometime after the whole D.O.S.A. fiasco, after things have calmed down. I feel like Jenkins would hoard stuff he makes in the “you never know when I might need it” way, kind of a Harry Dresden vibe when it comes to potion making.

Though I like Fleve and Jazekiel and all, I didn’t really think about any outside relationships in this, so this fic is in it’s own happy little Flynnstone bubble. Also I have no clue where Eve is in this, I didn’t really think about her until I finished this and didn’t feel like inserting her somehow. Let’s pretend she’s off having a ladies’ day out with Rockwell or something.