#i genuinely think the combination of the two would just entirely short circuit him

[stinkythehutt]

tw suicide but imo if anakin had gotten everything he wanted on mustafar - ie padme with him, obi-wan and palpatine dead, twins safe, ruler of the galaxy - i would give it approx. 3 days and a couple hours of sleep before the reality of what he had done set in and he killed himself in a spiral of rage and shame. tbh

[callsignspark]

shoutout to Nick and Carole for creating our most special brown-eyed boy <3 here’s to hoping you find a cute enough bff substitute for Bradley. thank you for your kind words, responses below <333

i feel like this is such a random line for me to pick out, but i genuinely loved how realistic it was? like yeah we do and say this in a car and it’s just such a good little detail?? - thank you!!! my goal is to make this series and universe as realistic as possible so I'm so glad you noticed this!!!

yes bradley because she’s short circuiting that you called her HONEY - Bradley noticing the woman he has feelings for is falling asleep: I must call her cute petnames

BECAUSE REUBEN IS PLANNING THE WEDDING!! (but also the turkey avocado sandwich and mac and cheese are elite panera selections) - REUBEN IS CRUNCHING THE NUMBERS AND FIGURING OUT HOW MUCH IT WOULD COST TO GET THE ENTIRE DAGGER SQUAD TO VEGAS IN THE NEXT 48 HOURS. (if there's one thing our girl Mary has - it's taste. in food. in men. immaculate taste.)

bradley boy got GRILLED by the real in-laws i see - LMAO YEAH. it was half "what are your intentions with our daughter" and half "she's so stupid when it comes to flirting, just tell her or she's not gonna get it"

i love him keeping an eye on the car the entire time and the older guy calling him out on it - Bradley is two thing (1) fucking vigilant when it comes to the safety of people he cares about (2) pathetically in love with Mary. these two combined and he almost took out a Korean War vet (who totally understood, he was the same way about his wife)

she def seems like the type that doesn’t like to necessarily have favors like this done for /her/ or have to owe people for things? yet she’ll be the first to stick her neck out for someone, sweet girl - mmmm yeah. poor girl. absolutely hates having to ask for help. loves when people notice she needs help and offer to help, cannot stand actually receiving the help though lol. she's working on it.

oh oh OH i am so soft for this!! honey and sweetheart! i’d melt! and she’s burrowing deeper into his side! - he's the perfect pillow! and he smells good! who wouldn't burrow??

i just hate that she doesn’t see or doesn’t want to see how much bradley does like her? i want them to have a super sweet and cliched first date (i keep thinking of our convo about a potential way he could ask her out and get excited but also sad when i think of it) - can everyone who is in favor of beating up her shitty ex who made her supremely insecure in relationship, please raise your hands? everyone? okay we ride at dawn. (their first date is very sweet!! it is miles away from cliche though!! but so cute!)

i got butterflies at this! miss girl is really going out of her way in trying not to get her heart broken! - she's trying to keep herself from getting hurt! (she's also not realizing completely that he's trying to have it be just the two of them. so it's not totally her protecting herself. like I said. she's dumb (affectionate))

very good idea i like a man who thinks stuff like this through! but also i’m dying to know if there’s a christmas gift exchange now? - he's a planner! sometimes he goes off the cuff, but when it's big things like this, he p l a n s. and we talked about this a little bit but there is a secret santa that happens! we won't get a lot of detail about it (unless I actually do write that party one shot lmao) but spoiler alert! Bradley is Mary's secret sanata and Mary ends up with Bob!

this is so soft of him!!! and her cute little dimple!! - they're literally marshmallows they're so soft. her dimple!!! it only comes out when she smiles really big!!!

SHE LEANS INTO IT 😭😭😭😭 i need it i need more - SHE LEANS INTO IT!!! more coming next Friday!!

Mar(r)y Me | part 3.5

pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Mariella “M&M” Vertucci (fem!OC)

summary: A love story told through friendship, laughter, and food.

series warnings: 18+ minors DNI, discussion of insecurities, difficult and extremely unsupportive family relationships, discussions of food and alcohol use, eventual smut, warnings to be added as needed

word count: 2.4k

previous part | series masterlist | main masterlist

note: it’s Bradley’s birthday! to celebrate this is a one shot/continuation of part three! originally this was supposed to be part of part three, but it got cut during editing. however, I really love this and I could let it just sit in a doc. so, I spruced her up some, added some more detail and viola!

part 3.5 - Panera Bread

The walk through the parking garage goes by too fast for Bradley’s liking. Too soon he’s having to drop Mary’s hand to open the passenger door, making sure she’s settled before closing it and getting in himself. “Alright, next stop Panera.”

“Hopefully, it’s not too busy…” She trails off when his hand brushes her neck, checking behind him as he’s backing up and not even noticing his effect.

He hums, braking so an elderly couple can cross. “It’s a little after seven, so I don’t think it’ll be bad - we should have beat the dinner rush. Clear that way?”

“After this white SUV, you’re good.”

The drive is comfortable, the radio occasionally interrupted by quiet conversation. They run into traffic on the highway, an accident taking four lanes down to one, and when they arrive at the restaurant, Bradley realizes Mary has fallen asleep in his front seat. He goes through the motions of parking and turning the car off, hoping she’ll have woken up from all the noise by the time he gets to her side. She doesn’t.

“Mary?” He gently shakes her shoulder, but she doesn’t budge.

He sighs, feeling bad about waking her up. She hasn’t gotten much sleep the past few days, but he knows she needs to eat more than she needs to sleep right now. From the second the decision was made to go to the hospital, Mary had been on the phone coordinating behind the scenes. Making arrangements for Dani’s parents to fly in from Philadelphia and picking them up when their flight got in at midnight. She had kept the Daggers updated with the latest; news coming into a specially created group chat as soon as she knew it. She watched Annie taking care of the four-year-old as if she were her own child. She had done all of that, and more, so that Danielle and Reuben could fully focus on the arrival of their newest family member without worry.

“Mary? Mary, c’mon, you gotta wake up so we can eat.” He unbuckles her seatbelt, smoothing some hair off her forehead. The touch wakes her up. Bleary eyes meet his, her nose scrunching up in distaste at being awake, and a small whine escapes her throat as the parking lot lights glare in her face. Bradley instantly feels himself soften.

“Okay, honey, you stay here, and I’ll get the food. What do you want?”

He gives her brain a minute to come back online, appreciating how cute she looks as her pretty brown eyes blink at him in confusion. “Uhh… Greek salad with chicken, extra olives, and no tomatoes, please.”

“Greek salad with chicken, extra olives, and no tomatoes. Anything else?”

“No, thank you.” Her eyes are already getting heavy, and she lets out a little yawn.

“Okay, buckle back up, and you hang out here. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He hands the seatbelt to her, making sure he hears the click before shutting and locking the car.

His phone is up to his ear and ringing as he walks up to the ordering kiosk, thankful he parked in a space where he’ll be able to keep eyes on the car the entire time he’s inside.

“Rooster, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, we’re fine. What else does she like from Panera? She asked for a salad, but that doesn’t seem like enough if she hasn’t eaten since yesterday.”

“Why aren’t you asking her?”

“She fell asleep on the way here, and I felt bad enough waking her up to ask what she wanted, so she’s sleeping in the car with the doors locked.”

There’s a moment of silence so long that Bradley checks to make sure he didn’t get disconnected. “Payback?”

“She likes the mac and cheese, that wild rice chicken soup, and the turkey avocado sandwich. But what’s most important is that whatever you get doesn’t have tomato on it.”

“Is she allergic?” He pauses his tapping on the menu pad, glancing outside to check on Mary.

“No, she just doesn’t like raw tomato on sandwiches and salads. It’s a texture thing.” There’s murmuring on the line. “Yeah, like Dani said. She likes the iced papaya green tea, so get her one of those. And a cinnamon crunch bagel for breakfast tomorrow since she didn’t get to go grocery shopping like she usually does. And just Venmo me for whatever you get her; we owe her big time.”

“Nah, I got it this time.”

“Oh, Rooster!” Dani’s voice comes through clearer. “Remind her that she needs to get gas in the Jeep before work tomorrow; she’s running low.”

“I’ll just fill it up for her after we get home.” He mutters, trying to decide whether to get two or three lemon drop cookies.

“Damn, you are down bad, aren’t you? Just remember what we talked about earlier, dude.”

“Reuben, trust me, the last thing I want to do is hurt her.” He fumbles to grab his wallet, trying to hold his phone and their cups at the same time. “Alright, man, I gotta go. I’ll text you when I get her home.”

He pays and almost runs over an older man as he moves to fill their cups. “I’m sorry about that, sir. Wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“That’s alright; you were just keeping an eye on your girlfriend. I get it.”

“Oh, I- uh-”

“Your eyes have been glued to her since you walked away from your car - which is a beauty, by the way.” He claps Bradley on the shoulder. “Girl is even prettier; don’t mess that up, son.”

“Yes, sir.” His face hasn’t been this hot since his mom came home from work early and caught him making out with his first girlfriend in the living room.

Bradley finishes grabbing the food in a daze, thinking about what it would be like if the woman sleeping in his car really was his.

Mary shifts when he gets in the car, peeking an eye open to make sure it’s him before she snuggles back under the blanket he keeps in his backseat. His heart soars at how comfortable she is in his space. He wants to make a joke to hear her laugh, wants to tell her how beautiful she is so he can watch her cheeks turn pink, wants to press his lips to hers so he can find out what she tastes like.

He settles for taking a photo and sending it to Reuben, his fellow pilot responding with a crowd of laughing emojis followed by rows of kissy faces.

The drive to Mary’s house goes smoothly, and he feels less bad about waking her up this time. Her key is in her front pocket, and he can’t even think about trying to get it out.

Her hair has fallen from where he pushed it back earlier, and he can’t resist brushing it away again, letting his fingers run through her soft hair. “Mary, wake up; we’re home.”

She groans, pulling the blanket over her face. “No.”

Her petulance makes him laugh; he’s never seen her grumpy. Even at work, when she’s frustrated at schedule delays, she is mildly displeased, at worst.

“C’mon, honey. You gotta eat.” Her hair disappears, and he pulls out his trump card. “I got you mac and cheese.”

An eye appears as the blanket lowers, squinting at him in suspicion. “I didn’t ask for mac and cheese.”

“No, but you haven’t eaten since yesterday. You need more than just salad, even if you did get chicken on it.” He tugs on the edge of the blanket. “Come on, I’m hungry too; let’s go eat.”

Once inside, they move well together. Bradley pulls out food while Mary grabs utensils. She stops at the living room entrance, her mouth dropping open at the food spread across her coffee table. “What is all of this? There’s only two of us!”

“Well, there’s your salad and mac and cheese. I got a sandwich and chips. Plus, our cookies and drinks. And Reuben mentioned you didn’t get a chance to go grocery shopping, so I got you a bagel and sandwich for work tomorrow.”

“Bradley, that is so incredibly sweet of you, but this is too much. How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing, it was my treat.” He pats the couch next to him, “Sit. I wanna watch Parks and Rec.”

“Dinner was your treat. But the other food was not part of our agreement. So how much?”

“Mary, seriously, nothing. Come sit with me and eat.”

She huffs and plops down next to him, her thigh brushing his as she leans into him. “I will pay you back somehow.”

He wraps his arm around her shoulder, rubbing her arm as he teases her. “Would it kill you to just let me do something nice for you and say thank you?”

“Thank you, Bradley.”

“You’re welcome.” He unwillingly pulls away, handing her the bowl of mac and cheese, waiting until she has a full mouth to continue. “Also, I’m filling your Jeep up before I leave. And you will not fight me on it. You can pay me back for it later.”

“Yes, sir.” She mocks him, not catching his gulp as she laughs at Pawnee’s latest antics.

Four episodes later, with full bellies and the extra food stored in the fridge, Mary’s head drops onto Bradley’s arm. He peeks down at her, smiling at how her mouth forms a little circle, eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks.

“Mary.” She hums at him, trying to burrow deeper into his side. “I promise this’ll be the last time I wake you up today. But we can’t stay here, sweetheart; you should go sleep in your bed.”

“Don’t wanna move, I need to shower, and that requires too much energy.”

He pauses, forcing himself not to let the visual of her showering take its full form. “Well, I can’t help you with that one. But how about you relax while I get gas, and when I get back, you get in the shower and go to bed?”

“God, I hate when you think logically. Let me grab the keys.” She sighs, dragging herself up and into the kitchen. “Here, this one is obviously the Jeep, and this is the house key, just in case I’ve fallen asleep by the time you get back.”

He laughs, admiring her where she’s lounging on the couch, wiggling her fingers at him as he locks the door behind him. Her car is an overload for his senses; the interior smells like her perfume, subtle and flowery with a hint of orange. He has to push the seat all the way back so he can fit behind the wheel.

He thinks about her the entire time he’s pumping gas. How caring she is, how smart, how beautiful. He’s been working up the courage to ask her out, and it seems like everyone has given him a kick to just do it already. He wants to ask her, to take her out properly - dinner and a movie or something equally cliché for a first date. But every time he suggests coffee or lunch with just the two of them, hinting at it being more than friends, she turns it into a group affair.

Danielle and Reuben had been encouraging, telling him that he would have to be a bit patient, that Mary may not realize what she was doing. But he wasn’t convinced she wasn’t letting him down easily. Trying to brush him off because he wasn’t getting the hint.

On top of that, it felt like a bad time to ask her. With Christmas only a couple weeks away, parties and last-minute shopping and holiday travel is beginning to dominate everyone’s schedule. He didn’t want their first date to get lost in the hustle and bustle of the season.

I’ll ask her after the new year. He sets the goal as he re-enters her house.

He calls out for her, seeing the couch empty and the blankets back in their proper spots. Moving further into the house once he hears music playing. “Mary?”

He can hear water running as he moves toward the music. The shower. She's in the shower. He’s stuck in place. He’s trying to keep his imagination from running wild, but it’s hard when he can hear Mary humming along to Jim Croce while she washes her hair.

He moves down the hall, awkwardly standing outside her open bedroom door. He croaks her name; she doesn’t hear him. He hesitantly shuffles into her room and parks himself in front of the cracked ensuite door as the water turns off.

Clearing his throat, “Mary?” His voice breaks like a teenager. He smacks himself.

The music lowers, “Bradley? You’re back?”

“Uhh- I- uhh- yeah. Filled the Jeep up and pulled it into the garage for you. I’m gonna take your house key with me so I can lock the front door and give it back to you tomorrow if that works?”

His eyes bounce between the floor and the door, waiting for her answer.

“That’s fine! Thank you so much for everything today, Bradley! I really appreciate you. Let me know what I owe you for the gas!”

“Will do. I’m gonna head out unless you need something else?”

“No, I’m all set. You did a good job taking care of me.” The door opens, and she’s standing there in a baby blue robe, hair wrapped in a towel. Her face is fresh, if tired, and she looks more relaxed than he’s seen her in a week.

“Feel better?”

She hums, leaning against the doorframe. “It’s amazing how showers can make everything better. Seriously, Bradley, thank you for everything you did. It’s going to make tomorrow so much easier.”

“Any time. You just let me know when you need something, Mary.” She smiles up at him, the dimple in her chin pops out, and he feels butterflies erupt. “I’m gonna head out, still taking your key, though. You finish getting ready for bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She leans into the kiss he presses on her forehead, eyes closed for a moment after he pulls away. “Night, Bradley.”

“G’night, honey.”

She stays leaning against the doorframe as she listens to him pull his shoes on and lock the door behind him. She can faintly hear the door of the Bronco closing after he gets in, completely unaware that his thoughts match hers.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck. 

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fic tag | credit for dividers here

[sungie]

𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐦𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐲𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐬

𝐚/𝐧: this is the first of my haikyuu! pieces, and i hope it helps make some of you like me who’ve been dealing with depression feel a little bit better.  kenma would love you so much.  thank you for reading!

- - 

kenma is the first to notice when something’s wrong 

suddenly you’re smiling a little too much.  and sure, you’ve always had a dry sense of humor, but this? this is different.  

he notices when your laugh seems hollow, almost.  and he notices it again when he looks at your smile and feels it flickering, and then again, when he watches you walk away, realizing that your gaze looks a little too much like his. and that scares him. 

when the two of you sit together on the bus because you’d tagged along to one of his volleyball games, you gaze blankly at the freeway and turn the volume up on your shared earphones like it’s the only thing that matters, the only thing that’ll drown everything out. and that’s when kenma knows for sure, what’s going on.�� at least, only until after he recovers from the blaring ring short-circuiting around his left eardrum. 

kenma won’t tell you he knows, but suddenly he’s everywhere you go. 

kenma’s just ... there.  he’ll sit beside you and greet you with a nod, playing his video games while you’re working on homework.  or at least, as you try to work on homework.  every so often he’ll look up from his game to glance at you with one of his piercing stares, and it feels a little bit like he sees right through you. 

and maybe he does. 

and then, sometimes, if you’re lucky and meet his gaze, you’ll get a rare smile, one that’s slowly starting to become slightly less rare.

kenma starts packing a little extra food for school.  he never brought any before, but sometimes he’ll watch with wide eyes as you’ll tumble into class in disarray, and by the looks of your face, you’ve just managed to down a bit of coffee before running out the front door and into the classroom, a few seconds before the tardy bell.  he doesn’t say anything except reach behind him and place a pre-packaged bread from the convenience store onto your desk. sometimes you’ll catch a glimpse of his face, but usually, he doesn’t turn around. he’s too embarrassed that you’ll find his actions weird.  but he can’t help it.  he cares.

kenma doesn’t really like sharing his video games.  i mean, they’re his. and he doesn’t like sharing. he often finds himself hunching over his switch, or tucking it away when people pass by.  it’s his way of blending in, of making sure people look past him and forget.  but as you come to sit beside him at lunch increasingly more and more often, he simply hands you his phone or portable game console and watches you play with genuine curiosity.  it feels natural. 

the two of you have been close for a while, but you’ve always had your own friend groups. somehow these lines get smudged further and further, and now kenma finds himself waiting for you outside nearby classes, looking up and blinking in confusion to see you standing next to kuroo at their normal space during lunch, waiting for him.  and then you’re even sticking around to walk randomly with him when he doesn’t have practice. 

“it doesn’t matter. i don’t really care,” you say plainly, as kenma asks when you need to get back home or leave to study. 

“you don’t?” he asks, and it’s funny, really.  because kenma feels the same, most days.

“like, what’s the point,” you say, laughing softly.  flippantly.  “i don’t know.  i’m just tired.”

kenma nods.  but then, because he needs to, because he’s worried, “why?” 

“just numb.”  you shrug.  “it’s okay. don’t worry, kenma.”

kenma knows there’s stuff going on, he can see you battling with whether to say something or bottle it up even further, but he also sees a whim of confusion pass over your eyes because deep down, you don’t even know why you feel like this.  it just is.

“come on,” kenma says, finally, cheeks flushed as he dares to lightly tug on your hoodie sleeve.  “yakitori or imagawayaki?” 

later he facetimes you because you’re still up.  he knows this from your response to one of his texts from a few days ago.  it’s now that you tell him you haven’t done any work. it’s two o’clock in the morning.

“but … don’t you have a test tomorrow?” 

“yeah,” you mumble.  “and i haven’t started studying, or homework.”

kenma bites his lip.  “why?”

“i don’t know.  i just can’t.” 

and he sees your easy, exasperated smile, sees the way you’re implying, i’m okay, really, kenma, go to sleep, but he also notices the way your voice catches, the way you’re blinking and staring up at your light, and then, the clench in your jaw. 

“i still have stuff to do,” kenma lies, and he gets up to walk to his desk.  “i’ll stay up with you.”

you nod, grateful, and kenma pretends to be working but doodles lines and spirals on a piece of paper, slowly sketching out the patterns of spirals that directly correlate to attack patterns and combination hits in his game. he doesn’t normally do this.  he doesn’t normally make the effort, but he thinks you need it.  he tells you in a sleep-raspy voice about volleyball practice, and the way the city lights look at night, and the onigiri he wants to buy at the convenience store tomorrow, and do you think you might want one?

he won’t nag you, won’t throw more toxic positivity on you because he knows people do that too much already, and you’re tired of it.  but he keeps talking to you softly, even slowly murmuring whatever comes into his mind because he watches as his voice seems to ground you, and soon you’re picking up your mechanical pencil and writing some notes down while he speaks.

normally it would embarrass him, but right now, half-awake and just knowing that he wants to make sure you’re okay, nothing else matters.  

he falls asleep momentarily, but catches himself and flushes. he’s embarrassed, mind already racing that you’ll expose his lie, but luckily you’re looking down at your schoolwork.  kenma feels something pinch at his heart.

you both stay on the call late into the morning, and soon it’s time to go to school. you’ve managed to get the homework done.  you’re not finished studying, not by a long shot, but it’s something.  and as you tell kenma that, the smile he gives you makes you feel like things are alright.

he’s been over to your house plenty.  and you’re organized, mostly.  but today as the two of you stop by your house to pick up a forgotten textbook, kenma catches a glimpse of your room.  it’s a mess.  more than a mess.  

he’s not stupid, he knows the state of your room reflects your mental state.  and right now?  your room is a disaster.  an absolute fucking disaster. 

he stubbornly won’t let the both of you leave.  he helps you pick up the clothes thrown on the floor and gathers all the dishes and cups from your room, even going to the extent of making your bed, so you don’t have to sleep curled up on the rare expanse of empty floor while he huffs and clears off space on your desk so you can do homework.

he doesn’t know how you manage, like this.  but he also supposes that’s why you’ve been able to hide it for so long, keep going for so long. 

“do you want to talk about it?” kenma asks one day, his eyes contemplating.  trying to figure something out.  thinking.  he doesn’t want to impose, doesn’t want to make things worse, doesn’t want to push you away. 

“about what?”  you shake your head.  “i’m fine.”

“oh,” kenma says, looking away and down at the people walking beneath the overpass.  

“what?” 

“but ... “

and as you wait for him to continue, he shrugs, defeated. 

“you’re not fine.”

you blink at kenma.

the corner of his mouth tugs to the side, and then he hands you his video game console as offering of peace.  “we don’t have to talk about it.  but ... (y/n)?” 

and the way he says your voice is so soft.  kenma doesn’t address you by name often, but when he does, the way it rolls off his tongue makes you feel as if he’s talking about something so special, and you’re afraid to think too much about what it means.

“yeah?” you whisper, your voice caught in your throat.

“i know.  and it’s okay.”

kenma doesn’t meet your gaze, expecting you to take the console and then things will go right back to how they’ve always been, with both of you dancing around this dark cloud that gets heavier and heavier as weeks pass. 

but you’re not taking the console.  slowly, kenma’s gaze flickers back to yours, and his lips part. 

your eyes are changing.  it’s like something he’s said knocked down a few walls.  there’s still a smile on your face, it’s enough to fool most people, but kenma pinpoints the exact second where it starts ghosting away, and now you’re stepping forward and hugging him.  his eyes widen; he lets out a little sound of surprise.  he can feel you trembling, your voice swollen and catching in your throat when you try to say something.  but you don’t have to.  you don’t have to say anything.  

“it’s okay to take your time,” kenma murmurs in a way that’s so him, and gently, like he’s holding his entire world in his palms (because he is), he lets his arms wrap around you and hugs you back.  “it might not be much, but i’m here.”  and then, more fiercely, “and i’m not leaving. i promise.”

it’s very rare that kenma will initiate affection.  it’s even more rare that kenma will hug you back.  but he does it.  and this time, he doesn’t let go.

[raleighcarrera]

ummmmm i got in a random mood to write some gratuitous bryce smut so !! i’m sorry !! but enjoy !! 

*

he’s halfway through an adrenaline high that’s spiraling out of control when he spots her.

casey’s off in her own world, seemingly oblivious to the hospital around her, her nose buried in one of her charts. her hair falls loose around her face, a lock of it flopping into her eyes over and over again each time she pushes it back out of her way.

before he even realizes what he’s doing, he’s jogging up to her, closing his fingers around her wrist and stopping her progress down the hall.

casey’s footsteps halt, and then she looks up, her confusion giving way to a grin when she sees it’s him who’s bothering her. “bryce!” she exclaims, voice warm despite how surprised she obviously is, “hi, what’s up? i thought you got called into that emergency surgery?”

“i did.” he shifts on his feet before her, his restless energy starting to pile up. “i finished early.”

casey’s eyebrows arch high, her pretty lips twisting with confusion. “you... finished a thoracic aortic dissection repair... early?”

well, if he wasn’t feeling pretty fucking pleased with himself before, he sure is now. “uh huh.” pride puffs out his chest in a noticeable way. 

“jeez.” she laughs, though it’s clear she’s impressed. she tucks her chart in close to her chest, then shoots him a look from underneath her eyelashes. “that’s a really complicated procedure. you must be feeling on top of the world.”

oh, he is, but it’s not only because of his success in surgery. earning the respect and kudos of his mentors and peers is one thing, but knowing that he’s impressed casey -- seeing her face contort into that wide-eyed look of dazzled excitement -- is something else entirely. 

he swallows, holding her gaze. “do you have a few minutes to take a break with me?” it’s not exactly an answer to her non-question.

casey’s teeth sink into her bottom lip. her gaze darts around the hallway, and then she nods, slowly, mischief sparkling in her eyes.

bryce pulls her into the first supply closet he can find, shutting the door behind them and thumbing the lock in one fluid movement, already shrugging out of his coat. from behind a rack of extra gloves and scrubs, casey’s doing the same, hurriedly unbuttoning her pants.

“c’mere,” he demands, extending an arm for her and yanking her in towards his chest as soon as she’s within grabbing distance. 

casey makes a noise that’s half-laughter, half a yelp of surprise. she steadies her hands on his shoulders and smiles at him, stupidly pretty in the dark closet she’s actually let him pull her into.

at work. in the middle of the day. she must really like him. 

bryce surges forward and kisses her eagerly, all traces of gentleness gone from his movements. the moment their lips touch he’s already groaning, sinking into the lush warmth of her mouth and savoring the way she feels against him, one broad palm slowly mapping the curve of her body as his hand wanders down her side. 

he feels like he could run a marathon. he feels like a god. 

casey’s own fingertips are slowly crawling under his shirt, gripping his muscles where they flex when he holds her tighter, pushing a knee between her legs. 

she sounds delighted when he backs her into the wall, ominously rattling a rack of supplies somewhere to their left. casey only forces their lips apart long enough to wrench his shirt over his head and toss it to the floor, grinning brightly at him once it’s gone and he’s shaking his messed up hair back out of his face, mind already on the next way he can get her to make that noise she’d just hummed again. 

“you’re way too hot to be street legal,” she murmurs, eyes fixated on his chest. it only adds fuel to the fire of his already raging ego, making him feel practically untouchable -- like it wouldn’t even matter if someone rattled the doorknob to the supply closet loose and caught them right now.

like he almost wants them to.

“please,” bryce returns, breath labored when her fingertips start to dance beneath the waistband of his scrubs, “like you’re not the sexiest girl in the whole city.”

casey scoffs, leaning in to drag her lips along his jaw. “the sexiest girl in the state,” she corrects, lingering behind his ear momentarily before dipping down his neck, “thankyouverymuch.”

he laughs, rocking his hips forward. the movement slips casey’s hand fully into his boxers, and transforms the sound he’s making into a low groan, his grip on her tightening where his hands are spread out over her ass.

“sexiest on the east coast,” he says, voice lowered to a whisper, like they’re alone in her bedroom instead of, arguably, in the middle of the hospital. “no contest.”

casey swings her head back enough for them to look at each other, and the gentle, amused expression on her face would be enough to make his heart skip on its own -- her hair’s already messed up and hanging in her sparkling eyes, her lips curved up into a sweet smile -- but the words it’s combined with do him in entirely. “sweet talker. are you going to fuck me, or what?”

he is, of course, even though they’re running on limited time and every minute they spend in here together makes it more likely that someone will overhear something they’re not supposed to.

they help each other out of the rest of their clothes without talking, though bryce can’t stop himself from lowering his head to kiss every bare patch of skin she reveals to him, his boundless energy manifesting itself in the form of doting adoration left on her shoulders, her chest and the curve of her waist when he kneels down to the floor to help slide her pants to her ankles.

then, in a move that proves she’s much too good for him, casey spins around and holds onto one of the shelving units, glancing at him back over her shoulder with an almost challenging grin.

bryce moves in behind her with barely a moment’s hesitation, vacillating back and forth between trying to remind himself to be gentle and wondering if she even wants him to, burying his face in her hair to kiss the side of her neck. 

casey moans, not so loudly someone passing by in the hall would hear, but loud enough to send a shiver down his spine, making him pant into the back of her neck where he’s lining up behind her.

they’ve admittedly pushed the boundaries before -- plenty of times. they’ve messed around at work often and especially when they weren’t supposed to, in the on-call room, by the lockers, at the gym and even in the showers, but this is the first time she’s let him get as far as he is now, knuckle deep in her cunt to make sure she’s ready for him and groaning when he finds her wet, wiggling back against him alluringly.

“shit, case. you’d think you were the one with the groundbreaking medical achievement.”

her laugh is breathless, more of a moan than a genuine sound of amusement. “i mean -- i don’t love work that much.”

“debatable,” he sighs, rocking his hips forward experimentally. casey makes a sound of encouragement, and he does it again, a little more deliberately. “fuck, you feel good.”

“shhhh,” casey instructs, squeezing his forearm where it’s wrapped around her torso, “you’ll get us caught.”

“you’ll get us caught,” bryce corrects, bucking his hips harder, “you’re the loud one.”

“i am -- not,” she gasps, proving his point nicely. he smirks into her hair, ducking his head to bite her shoulder. “you are.”

“can you blame me?” he mutters, tipping his head back in the supply closet, squinting hard at the ceiling in a futile attempt to distract himself. this is going to be (what would be embarrassingly, with anybody but her) quick regardless. surgery had left him needy. “if you could feel you --”

“bryce,” casey sighs, the way she’s squeezing around him drawing his attention from the ceiling back to her bare shoulders, his hands aimlessly wandering along the front of her body while he builds up a rhythm. “i feel you, and you feel -- you feel amazing.”

amazing is an understatement for how she looks in front of him, the shelving unit she’s holding onto squeaking under the movement of their bodies, which builds in speed until the pressure’s almost too much, until his brain is short-circuiting with how good it is.

thankfully, he won’t need to use it for what’s left of today. hopefully casey’s almost about to clock out, too, and then -- maybe there’ll be dinner in their future, for once -- something quiet on his couch with no roommates, no siblings and, most importantly, no interruptions -- something that leads to her falling asleep in his arms and maybe even a lie-in, in the morning...

her broken groan startles him from the domestic fantasy he’s lost himself in, and bryce comes back to himself just in time to clamp a hand over her mouth, grunting into her neck when she wedges his palm between her teeth and bites.

the sharp prick of pain feels almost too good -- like what’s happening to him now is really meant for someone else. his life isn’t actually supposed to be going this well.

it is, though, and casey’s living proof of that.

the way she comes apart against him, shaking in his hold and panting against his hand is like poetry, making his head swim dizzyingly in the space that suddenly feels too small and too warm, his face flushed when he buries it back in the sweet-smelling curtain of her hair. 

if he closes his eyes, the smell reminds him of her bedsheets, and all the times he’s fallen asleep with his head on the same pillow hers is resting on, her heartbeat a comforting rhythm in his ears.

in the end, it’s him who makes the loudest noise, because she has the safety net of his hand over her mouth, but that doesn’t stop casey from grinning smugly at him when she shimmies back into her clothes, though she winces a little when her hips tilt to get her pants on and that makes him beam obnoxiously at her, and then they’re just two idiots staring at each other through the dark, overly pleased with themselves for no real reason at all.

he steps forward to smooth his hands over casey’s hair while she fixes her coat, helping the messy strands back into place. something about the dark shadows on the planes of her face makes his breath catch; she’d been stunning out of her clothes, of course, but she’s weirdly even more beautiful now, something almost shy in her eyes when she looks up at him from under her lashes.

“come home with me tonight?” bryce asks, nervous even though he knows what she’s (probably, hopefully) going to say.

the corners of her mouth quirk upwards into a grin, and the vulnerability she’d been wearing fades away. god, but he fucking loves her. “sure,” she hums agreeably, bouncing up onto her toes to press one last smiling kiss to his mouth, already reaching around him for the doorknob at his back, “someone has a successful surgery to celebrate.”

[bloodfromthethorn]

Accident

Matty, usually, loves her job, but there are some days where she can't help but feel she just isn't being paid enough for it.

Part eleven of the July of Whump 2021 prompt challenge.

Also on AO3. 

..

For all its covert operations, thanks to the think tank cover, The Phoenix was still technically classified as a regular place of business. That meant a lot of things, like paying property taxes and having to report earnings to the state, but by far one of the most mundane outcomes was the need for an Accident Book. In theory, any time someone employed by The Phoenix was injured while at work they had to write a short report detailing the accident for the book, and every year or so, The Phoenix would have to submit their anonymised incident reports to the local council.

Of course, this posed something of a problem for a government agency trying to stay off the radar; even with identifying information taken out, someone was probably going to take note if a seemingly mundane think tank reported 18 gunshot wounds over the course of a single year.

The workaround, therefore, had been that any injuries acquired outside of the building – like, say, when agents were out on missions – didn’t go into the book, and instead it was filled with the much more minor things that occurred in the relative safety of the Phoenix. There were still a couple of things that had to be omitted, like Bozer getting stabbed, but mostly, the plan seemed to work out okay. With a whole block of science labs taking up a considerable chunk of the building, there were more than enough burned fingertips and electric shocks that weren’t suspicious to fill a passably convincing report.

That being said, Matty wasn’t entirely sure how she was supposed to play this one off as a standard workplace mishap.

“Okay, okay, stop. I’m going to need you to run this by me again. Start at the beginning.”

“Well, like I said, we had Sparky up on the table-”

“At the beginning, Bozer,” she cut in, shooting her two agents a firm look. Boze’s natural charisma was, as ever, unhindered by her glare, while Mac did his usual trick of falling back on his army training and acquired a blank expression to let any yelling wash right over him. Jack did the same whenever he was genuinely in trouble and it drove Matty crazy any time it happened.

“We were working on separate projects,” Mac explained in a much more level tone than Boze had managed. To be fair, that might have had something to do with the gauze wrapped tightly around his forehead. “I’m still trying to troubleshoot that luminogen work for the dev team – you know, the glowstick stuff?”

She nodded.

“Right. And Bozer-”

“I was trying to fix a glitch in Sparky’s programming.”

“You were trying to make him call you sir,” Mac put in with a snort. He sobered as soon as he caught Matty’s hard stare. “But, uh, yeah. We were both just in the lab doing our own thing. Then Boze called me over to take a look at something-”

“I needed a spare part of hands to rewire the circuit board while I updated the code, and you know how much Mac hates someone else messing up his wiring.”

“I wasn’t working on anything volatile, so I dropped what I was doing and went to help. All of my stuff should have been completely fine where it was.”

Matty eyed him critically. He didn’t look like he was lying, but then it was a little hard to tell how much of that was down to the concussion and the bruises swelling on the left side of his face. “But it wasn’t,” she concluded.

“One of the other lab techs came through when I was focused on Sparky,” he explained with a wince. “She didn’t know that I still had things running and she noticed that my nitrogen line was still live, so she shut it off.”

“Don’t we have standard practices in place so that doesn’t happen?”

“Yes, but she’s only been with us two weeks. She didn’t know any better.”

“Mhmm.”

“Honestly Matty, it’s not her fault. I shouldn’t have left an active reaction unattended without sticking a red form up. That’s the standard practice that’s supposed to stop this thing from happening.”

“But you didn’t fill in the form.”

“I didn’t think I’d be gone long and I was still in the same room. Besides, the team usually knows not to mess with anything I’m working on, whether I’ve put up a form or not.” He went to rub at his face, then aborted the attempt when his fingers brushed over the gauze, wincing. Bozer and Matty were both watching him carefully, but he didn’t start keeling over so it would have to be good enough.

Matty sighed heavily. Playing the blame game wasn’t going to get them anywhere; she just needed to know what happened. “Okay then. You and Boze were over with Sparky and a lab tech shut off a nitrogen valve. Then what?”

“Well, nothing, for a little while. I was using the nitrogen to keep the reaction system anoxic, so everything was already sealed. Even without the nitrogen feed, it should have been fine to just sit there until I came back to it. Only, it turns out that when you combine the fluorescent polymer our dev team synthesised with NMP – the solvent I was using – it drops a proton and turns acidic.” He rolled his eyes as he said it, as if judging his own mistake like either Matty or Bozer had any concept of how predictable the problem could have been, then regretted it as it sent him dizzy again.

“Let me guess,” Matty said to give him a moment to recover, “The acid burned through a seal?”

“A rubber bung I was using to act as an injection port,” he confirmed grimly. “The seal failed and oxygen got in.”

“And the polymer is pyrophoric,” she finished for him. When he shot her a startled look, she shrugged. “I do read the reports I get sent Blondie. The spontaneous fire problem was one of the things they wanted you to take a look at, right?”

“Yeah. I hadn’t got to that part though.”

“Evidently.”

Boze jumped in to spare Mac the effort of defending himself. Now that the actual chemistry stuff was out the way, he knew the rest of the story. “While all this was happening, we were having a few problems with Sparky. The code was disagreeing with his logic boards, and it was making him fritz out pretty badly. He nearly took Mac’s fingers off when he sat up without warning.”

“And scared the hell out of us both,” Mac agreed.

“Yeah. Thank god Jack wasn’t in the room. We’d still be trying to get him down from the rafters.”

Matty cleared her throat and the pair of them snapped back to attention. Well, as at attention as Mac could reasonably be sitting up on one of the examination tables in the med bay.

With a cowed look, Bozer continued. “We were trying to work out what had happened, so we got Sparky going through a few movements. Because we weren’t finished, we didn’t bother getting him down off the table, so when he stood up completely…”

“He was a nine foot tall, eight hundred pound accident waiting to happen,” Mac finished. He gave a single shoulder shrug when Matty raised an eyebrow at him. “What? Even I’m willing to admit this whole thing was stupid.”

She’d more or less pieced together the rest of the story by now, but she still felt she should hear it for herself. Proper protocol and all that. “Alright. Then what?”

“We were trying to get Sparky back down when the reaction system blew,” Mac said. “We were far enough away that we weren’t at risk of burns, but Boze got a facefull of dye and Sparky got knocked off the table.”

“And onto you.”

He grimaced faintly, casting an offended eye at the sling supporting what had recently been a very dislocated shoulder. The expression did nothing to soften the bruises scattered across his face. “Yeah.”

Beside him, a slightly discoloured Boze swayed to knock their uninjured shoulders together. “Sorry, man,” he said, not for the first time. “Can’t help but think this is my fault.”

“It wasn’t. My reaction, my boom. Besides, you’re the one who’s going to be glowing in the dark for the next two weeks.”

“Yeah, and I’m sure the ladies will love it. You’re the one with the busted up arm.”

“It’s nothing, really. My shoulder pops out all the time.”

“You say that like it’s comforting and I gotta tell you man, it really ain’t.”

Matty’s gaze flicked between them. As much of a mess as Mac was, and despite the fact that Bozer was a lot more green than he had been when he’d arrived at work that morning, they’d both been signed off by medical with minor injuries. In theory, it was exactly the sort of thing that should go in her accident report, and yet she had a sneaking suspicion this particular story was going to raise a lot more questions than she was really willing to answer. It was funny – Mac had a habit of bringing that feeling out in her.

“Okay,” she said. “Okay. I think I’ve got the picture. I’m not even going to pretend I understand how you managed to configure such a comedy of errors, but I trust that you’ve both learned how to avoid this problem in future?”

Like two boys caught doing something they shouldn’t, they both nodded quickly in unison. She couldn’t quite bite back her smile. “Alright then. Bozer, you’re cleared to work for the rest of the day should you wish to. Mac, you’re off rotation entirely until that concussion clears up, then it’s light duty to let your shoulder heal. I’ve called Jack to come pick you up.”

That certainly got his attention. “You called Jack? It’s his day off!”

“I’m well aware. But you can’t drive with that arm and as your nominated next of kin, he’s left standing orders to be informed every time you get injured. He should be here any minute.”

Bozer was snickering to himself, while Mac’s expression had folded into something between desolate and sheepish. Matty had had a hell of time getting Jack to calm down and listen when she’d first called to tell him Mac was in medical and evidently Mac had some idea of the helicopter parenting about to rain down on his head. Maybe that would be the thing to actually make him realise the seriousness of his own actions.

“Great,” he muttered sarcastically, just as Matty heard the door to medical swing open so forcefully it cracked against the wall. With a dry smile, she stood back and waited to see the fireworks.

[bananaink]

KeGo December - Day 1 "You don't get to be mad at me"

“I said no!”  

Izuku startled awake and found himself scrambling to stand up. Hurriedly blinking awake, he struggled free of the restricting chains around his body, only to see his blanket innocently fall to the ground.  

"I’m just saying, this would be good. For you and for him.  ”  

He quickly observed his surroundings. His room. He was in his room, door slightly ajar. Heartrate slowly going down, Izuku flexed his tingling hands and shook his head to get rid of the sleepiness clinging to his eyelashes.  

“This is not up to debate. I said no and that’s it.”

Aizawas voice wasn’t loud but in the quiet of the night, Izuku couldn’t help but flinch at the volume and quickly tiptoed to his door. He wasn’t surprised his newly appointed guardian was still awake, but the underground hero was usually much quieter about it.

“Just think about it! We could stock up on some stuff – shampoo, rice, new towels...”

“We don’t need more 'stuff' because we have everything we need.”

Izuku carefully peeked through his door and could barely make out half of Aizawas body sitting on the couch. Yamada in front of him, standing and flailing his arms. From behind, Izuku could see his hair falling loosely around his head and he wasn’t wearing his hero costume so he was probably here to annoy Aizawa. Which seemed to work because the underground hero had his arms crossed over his chest and glared as Yamada cocked his hips to the side, one pointed finger held in the air.  

“You might have everything you need but there is more to kids than just having their basic needs met.”, the blonde said, surprisingly quiet and stern but Aizawa just kept on glaring, slumping into the soft grey blanket he had wrapped himself into. Izuku still couldn’t combine the hero Ereaserhead with this grouchy looking adult, pouting into soft wool patterns.  

“I know that. Still, we are too close to the new school year. We can go-”, here  Aizawas face contorted into disgust “- shopping after everything. I’m too busy with preparations anyway. Also, principal Nedzu would never just bestow us a free day out of nowhere. I stretched his generosity too thin as it is with... you know.”

Izuku slowly crouched down so he could better see around Yamadas long legs to catch a clearer glance at Aizawas body language. He was obviously displeased, annoyed and tired but Izuku couldn’t see the tight line of his shoulders he usually had when faced with something the adult deemed important enough to raise his voice like that. His frown and pout pulled his face into directions  Izuku had yet to become familiar with and struggled to identify. It was so much harder and easier at the same time because his brother could say something with a smile and mean something entirely different while Ereaserhead seemed to actually match his face with his words.  

Izuku skimmed through his memories and what he was supposed to do now. Observe? Hide? Go back to bed? Announce himself? Was he even allowed to listen in on this? He could guess that it was about him because the blonde pro hero rarely talked about something else. It stressed  Izuku   out. And it didn’t matter how many times he threatened to bite Yamada, he always came back to talk some more.  

“Well, actually, about that...”, started the pro hero and scratched the back of his head. Izuku saw the slow roll of annoyance wash over Aizawas crossed arms before he leaned slightly forward, eyes gleaming red. The blonde hero chuckled nervously.

“What did you do?”  

“Well, you see, as your friend I think I have the right to occasionally decide something you might think you’re going to be angry about-”  

“Hizashi.”  

 “-but I also want to clarify that I only have your and consequentially your kids' best interest in mind-”  

 “Oh no.”  

Izuku watched how Aizawa put both hands over his face groaning, just as Yamada whirled his hands again like little cartwheels. His voice took on a slightly frantic notch.

“Listen, you haven’t had a free day in, like, three years and I’m not watching you overwork yourself, again-”  

“How did you get  Nedzu to even agree to that? I owe him a whole hero-class.”  

“I might have promised him you’d owe him a favor.”  

“Hizashi, why would you do that?!”

“Hey, hey! You don’t get to be mad at me, mister I-hid-my-broken-rib-until-it-punctured-my-lung-right-in-my-best-friends-car! You almost died because you thought you  could   just ignore your own health!”  

“But I didn’t promise a cunning little mammal to use me as he pleases!”  

“Oh, come on, it's just an extra day of work or something, not sucking his-”  

Suddenly Aizawa used his quirk on Yamada and the pro hero fell silent with a choke. Izuku had his bottom lip between his teeth, waiting for something to escalate, when the red eyes let go of Yamada and found Izukus green ones. The erasure-quirk didn’t even reach him as the adult deactivated it with a slow blink - but he still froze on the spot, busted.

“Midoriya.”,  Aizawa said, something like resigned surprise dripping off of him and Izukus brain short circuited with memories of the last time someone had caught him eavesdropping. Yamada whirled around, a big grin and genuine joy under his surprised eyes.  

“Little listener!”, he exclaimed and Izuku grimaced at the adult. Much like Aizawa, who then stood up to grab Yamada and push him onto the couch. Yamada fidgeted but waved an enthusiastic hand at Izuku.  

“Uh...”, Izuku just said at that and flinched again as Aizawa turned around to face him. They eyed each other for a second.  

“Sorry if he woke you up.”, he said, voice rumbling over the ground and meeting Izukus nervous ears. Yamada looked affronted, pushing his glasses up but stayed quiet. Izuku slowly stood up from his crouch and had a hand on the door, ready to throw it closed.  

“He’s loud.”, he just said, despite it being  Aizawas voice that had woken him up. Now the pro hero dramatically clasped a hand over his chest as if  Izuku had hit him right in the heart. Confused, Izuku found Aizawas dark eyes gleaming in the faint light of the living room.

“Uh...”  

“Everything is fine. He’s just being annoying.”  

“I’m being caring. He is being unthankful, that’s what's happening here.”, Yamada now piped up, still much quieter than Izuku had ever seen the hero but  Aizawa   ignored the dramatically pointing man. Instead he nodded to Izuku.

“Go back to bed. I’ll throw him out now.”  

Izuku watched how the blonde squawked and then evaded two grab-attempts   from Aizawa before he got him around the collar and dragged the uncooperative pro hero to the front door. All while Aizawa kept his blanket around his shoulders. As they crossed the hall, Izuku stuck his head out of his room to see Yamadas little salute and wink in passing.  

“See ya tomorrow!”, he said happily before Izuku could hear the front door open, a thud and then close. Just a second later Aizawa slouched back into view and his dark gleaming eyes caught Izukus confused ones. Three obnoxious pings sounded from Aizawas phone in his pocket and the underground hero sighed himself almost through the floor. Izuku tilted his head as the man rubbed his temples, grumbling.

 “Apparently, tomorrow, we’re going shopping.” 

_____________

Check out the other prompts and what is even happening with this Kego-Stuff over here:

https://bananaink.tumblr.com/post/189293233016/alrighty-d-so-banashee-and-i-made-our-prompt

And I posted this thing on AO3 over here:

https://archiveofourown.org/series/1558936

Also, check out @banashee :D She’s my partner in crime in this thing we cocked up :D

Also, if you are participating, please add me or message me!! I wanna see your stuff, no matter the fandom or if it’s original work!!! :D

[shibalen]

hi! sorry for sending in 4 asks last time! here’s take 2: can i rq an ohshc & mha matchup? i’m she/her. i prefer males, please! i’m around 4'10", shoulder length black hair & dark brown eyes. personality-wise, i’m not very expressive & seem apathetic unless i’m close to someone. i can act really childish & immature with people i’m close to, & i love teasing/pulling pranks on my friends. i’m a very messy person + i swear a lot. i like horror, psychological thrillers & action comedies. ♡ part 1!

random information; i’m a cancer. intj-t/intp-t. kind of changes. 3w4. ravenclaw + slytherin. i also really like spicy food- i dislike crowds & parties. i’m a very competitive person as well. i can be quite the sadist asdfghjk- i like cats too :,) i can play the piano & i have basic knowledge of a few other instruments. i like to draw, sing & sometimes write. i’m bad at comforting people- i give sorta good advice, but i always sound harsh. + i’m a night owl- i hate waking up in the morning. ♡ 2!

forgot to add: i’d like a romantic matchup please! i have a dog, but i prefer cats more. i can speak filipino, english, basic japanese & a teensy bit of swedish. i like indoor dates, but i also like dates in public aquariums & zoos! i’m also interested in things science-related, mostly biology, chemistry or anything space-related. i think that’s it. thanks in advance!! ♡ 3!

♡︎ matchup for @cherrycolaxo

howdy! that's okay, i understand the length can easily slip! i'm sorry your matchup took me almost two months to get to—hopefully it is worth the wait |ω･`)

|| ohshc: i match you with . . .

umehito nekozawa

• it was the matching first impressions vs reality that influenced me the most to put you together !! you both appear intimidating at first but in truth you're different and a lot more than what people make of you.

• i also think you can be a positive influence on Nekozawa. he is not good with people but your free-spirited nature encourages him to try a bit harder ♡︎

• he was looking for members for the black magic club when you first met. he asked you to join, expecting to be let down again, but then you agreed!

• instead of finding him creepy you thought he was an interesting character and that the club could be fun. plus, the Beelzenef puppet was cute; you got your own（ΦωΦ）

• through club activities you got to know each other and grew close. Nekozawa was scared to take the subject elsewhere than black magic at first, but soon learnt you share your love for cats and horror, and dislike for crowds.

• he felt like someone finally understood him outside his family and liked him despite his strange ways.

• likes to talk about your interests as well as the languages you speak. though into the supernatural, Nekozawa probably educated himself on science so he would know how seperate the two. now he's glad it's come in handy again.

• was admittedly taken off-guard by your change of character. you began teasing him playfully and pulling harmless pranks on him, and boy was just extremely confused????

• until he understood that's how you show you think of him as someone close. he cried.

• with you his days became more lively, and he learnt to enjoy himself. finds it hardcore that you can be a bit sadistic. a good trait for cursing people!

• once taught you russian to scare Tamaki who was convinced you were putting a voodoo spell on him.

• "mommy, there's two of them now!!!"

• you can't tell me wasn't crushing on you for months before he finally tried to do something about it. his dark soul could not handle the fluffy and fuzzy feelings consuming his being.

• proceeded to make the mistake of asking the host club for help and utterly embarrassed himself when trying to confess to you. it was chaos.

• you had to chase him down for two weeks before he agreed to show his face to you again.

• the rest is history. welcome to the dark side (ฅº￦ºฅ)

• your dates usually take place indoors because you both prefer it that way. despite his photophobia, Nekozawa occasionally manages to overcome his extreme goth levels to visit the aquarium with you.

• night dwellers™

• you skip school parties to practice black magic and tell stories in the dark, candle-lit club room. most students just assume you're in a cult now.

• the best person to share your drawings and writing with. he gets excited about everything you're willing to show him and actually gives great feedback, especially if it's magic or horror related.

• writes you dark and romantic poems. leaves them for you to find sometimes with a black rose next to the piece of paper ♥︎

• also says i love you by telling you to stay safe whenever you go outside and he can't come with you.

• you have to insinuate anything beyond hand-holding for a while though, because as much as Nekozawa wants to show you physical affection, he's too shy.

• you stop doing it though eventually, just to tease him, so you're surprised when he awkwardly nuzzles Beelzenef against your cheek.

• he got paranoid and thought you lost interest in him to be with the host club

• just kiss the puppet back and he's happy for the next three days. when embarrassed or shy he'll also use the puppet to convey his emotions. you've come to be a pro at reading puppet expressions.

• romantically your relationship advances slow and steady. it's very stong, built from lots of memories, trust and mutual understanding.

• tbh he doesn't need the sun when he's got you to brighten up his life ♥︎

runner up: Hikaru Hitachiin

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

|| bnha: i match you with . . .

denki kaminari

• your personalities fit together like chocolate and vanilla ice-cream. you add the richness and denki the sweetness to the taste — in result your combination has the best flavor!

• the moment Denki first laid eyes on you he thought you were supe cute, so naturally his mind went 'a person who looks like she doesn't want to be talked to? *cracks knuckles* imma 'bout the change that.'

• your apathetic demeanor didn't throw him off his game, no sir. he just kept talking, flirting and hanging around you until you warmed up to him.

• quest accomplished :D

• i mean, he thought it was attractive how chill you were in the beginning, but uncovering that childish, prankster side of you was like finding a real gem ♡︎

• you can be chaotic together now! loves that you're not afraid to curse. so badass.

• developing feelings for you was an entirely different story, however. they came so naturally as you hung out that when Mina brought it up Denki just short-circuited.

• "You and y/n hang out a lot right?"

• "Yeah, we're super close!"

• "So you like her?"

• "Of course!"

• "Are you finally gonna ask her on a date then?"

• cue surprised pikachu face

• needless to say, he asked you on that date right away the next weekend. you went to the zoo, and he did a bunch of research beforehand to impress you.

• was still shooketh that he only just realised his feelings for you so all his attemps to be smooth were yeeted out the window.

• you still thought it was sweet how genuinely hard he tried to make your day enjoyable so thanked him with a kiss on the cheek.

• boy almost lost his final braincell from the shock and happiness.

• a very doting boyfriend! the type to be at your door with your favourite snacks at 2am if you text him you had a bad day.

• you don't even have to say anything because as your best friend/boyfriend he knows how you act when under the weather.

• even if you're just fine Denki is always down to clown with you. night owls as you are, midnight adventures to. mcdonalds and watching action comedies til the sun comes up are common (even on school nights, especially on school nights)

• 10/10 will do the 'i'm just stetching and yawning oops my arm is around your shoulder now haha'

• he's a bit scared of thrillers and horror though. please cuddle this bby he likes it very much when he has an excuse to be so close to you.

• when you walk together you hold hands. he doesn't want you to disappear or feel uncomfortable in the crowd. gets an ego boost cause he feels like he's protecting you. also, holding your hand is just really . . . nice.

• listens to you play the piano and sing all the time (you play so well and your voice is so pretty?? how??), other times you jam out together and you've got yourselves a chill date.

• he finds it so cool that you're into so many science-related subjects :0 he may not know much about them himself but he's proud that you do.

• will brag to anyone and everyone about how smart you, his girlfriend, are.

• matching phone cases, matching t-shirts, matching outfits, just end me why you gotta be so wholesome💀

• your dog loves him, so you take lots of walks together in the park. watching those two play is the sweetest!

• prank wars everywhere anytime! it's a subtle and continuous thing between you two, always competing who comes up with the best prank.

• don't worry about being a bit sadistic or harsh with your advice. if Bakugo's words don't bother him then neither will yours. he thinks you're much nicer than him, plus your advice is better.

• on that note, welcome to the bakusquadヾ(⌐■_■)ノ♪

• as much as he likes it when you get along with his friends and hang out with them, Denki doesn't forget the importance of quality time. he will always have time for you ♡︎

runner up: Tokoyami Fumikage

thank you for requesting, i hope you enjoyed the read!! any feedback you might have is welcome. also, remember to drink water ♡︎

[mikauzoran]

Marichat Drabble: Decision

If Chat Noir was Problem Number One in Marinette’s love life, Adrien Agreste was Problem Number One A. He had always been the complicating factor between herself and Chat, and that had never stopped, even when her crush on him died down a bit.

Being persistently and vehemently friend-zoned for two years straight (besides being just plain demoralizing) had helped Marinette to tone down her feelings for him, but they had never gone away entirely (despite an additional year of somewhat less intense friend-zoning). In fact, her feelings had only changed from a schoolgirl crush into genuine adoration as she became able to have real conversations with him and got to know him better.

Marinette was resigned to the fact that Adrien would never see her as anything more than a friend. She was mostly okay with that. They were good friends…but that didn’t stop her insides from melting every time he touched her or grinned or winked flirtatiously.

The same was true of Chat Noir. For as much as they could tell each other anything and for all their skinship and all their flirting, they would only ever be friends. Yet he fried her brain with every purr of, “Princess”, every affectionate nuzzle, and every kiss on her cheek.

In conclusion, those two were going to give her a heart attack, and there was nothing Marinette could do about it.

…And yet…for as much as Marinette felt stuck in the friend-zone with them, sometimes they’d do something that made Marinette think that her Cinderella moment had come at last.

 “Wow,” Adrien breathed when he caught sight of her coming down the stairs.

The long-sleeved, red dress shirt with the lace trim around the top had looked magnificent on Marinette the other day when she’d tried it on in front of Chat, but the shirt combined with the black pencil skirt with the updo with the makeup with the garnet earrings Chat had given her all put together was overwhelming.

“You look…” He searched for adequate poetry. Finding none, he settled on, “…wow.”

Marinette blushed, giving a little shrug as she came to a stop in front of him. “Thanks. You look pretty wow yourself, beau gosse. You clean up good, Agreste.”

“Yeah?” he chuckled, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Thank you. I’m afraid I can’t take all the credit. Good genes go pretty far.”

Tom, who had originally been the one to open the door when Adrien knocked, chuckled approvingly at the scene. “If you two stand around here flirting much longer, you’re going to miss the benefit concert,” he teased.

Adrien nearly jumped at the sudden intrusion into his and Marinette’s own private world. Everything had melted away once he’d caught sight of her, but Tom’s voice ripped him back into the present moment.

“Right!” Adrien cleared his throat. “But before we go, I have a present for you, Marinette.”

Her eyes widened in apprehension. Usually, Adrien’s presents were too expensive, too personal, and left her feeling confused about the status of their relationship. “A present?”

“I swear it wasn’t expensive,” he prefaced before pulling out an oblong jewelry case.

“Oh, Adrien,” she sighed, reluctantly taking the box from him.

“I know. I shouldn’t have,” he groaned, very well-versed in the back and forth that was about to occur. “But I noticed those earrings you wore to the last gala, and when I saw this, I thought they’d go together, so…”

Marinette opened the lid and stared speechlessly down at the garnet necklace that matched the earrings Chat had given her exactly. She took out one of her earrings and held it next to the necklace.

They could have been a set.

“Do you like it?” Adrien inquired nervously. Usually she said more, put up more of a fight.

“I do,” she whispered, but there was something a little off in her voice. It sounded like she was overthinking something. “Where did you get this?”

Adrien shrugged. It wasn’t as if he could tell her that he’d inherited a small fortune in jewelry from his mother. Something told him Marinette wouldn’t like that. She’d probably say something about giving away family heirlooms, and she’d probably piece together that the earrings and the necklace were from the same set, and that would cause identity issues. Now that he thought about it, it was really stupid of him to give her the necklace as Adrien instead of Chat, but…

“Why do you ask?” he countered breezily, as if the information was of no consequence.

“Because I think a friend of mine shops at the same jewelry store as you, and I’m very impressed by the jeweler’s work. I was thinking maybe I’d like to shop there for myself sometime, and I was hoping you’d tell me where that is.” She smiled sweetly, her voice dripping treacle.

He rolled his eyes. “You want to know how much money we’re spending on you,” he deduced.

She shrugged. “Maybe. Hold for a second.” She handed the box back to him so that she could take off the necklace she had been wearing. She held it out to Tom. “Papa, could you please take this up and set it on the kitchen table?”

“Sure thing, Sweetie,” Tom chuckled, taking his leave. “You two have a nice night.”

Marinette took the garnet necklace out of its box and undid the clasp before offering it to Adrien. “Will you do the honors?” She turned around and waited for him to put the necklace on her.

Adrien fumbled with the clasp twice before he managed to get it. He hoped Marinette would chalk it up to his inexperience with necklaces instead of attributing it to his nerves.

Once the necklace was securely around her neck, Marinette faced him, smiling.

“Thank you, Adrien. I love it.” She leaned in to delicately deposit a kiss onto his cheek, effectively short-circuiting his brain.

 That night at the benefit concert, near the very end of the second half, Adrien surreptitiously slipped his hand into Marinette’s, and she had to wonder if maybe Chat had a point. Maybe Adrien did like her…at least a little bit…at least enough to hold her hand…or maybe it was just the influence of the Rachmaninov piano concerto. She couldn’t be sure.

It was late when Adrien dropped her off at her house, and Marinette sluggishly moved about her room, getting ready for bed. She caught a glimpse of herself in her cheval mirror and paused to stare for a moment.

As she studied her reflection, running her fingers over the garnets dangling from her ears and the garnets encircling her throat, Marinette wondered—if all the gifts and the flirting and the subtle pushing of their platonic boundaries actually meant that both Chat and Adrien were genuinely interested in her romantically—how she was ever going to choose between the two of them?

[carmenlire]

Higher than the Big Trees Ch. 11

read on ao3

It takes forty minutes to get to the library and two subway changes. Alec is still woefully early, though, walking up to the front steps a quarter of an hour before they’d agreed to meet. He pulls out his phone to check his notifications and his phone is silent. There hasn't been any texts from Magnus today and Alec has the errant thought that Magnus might be avoiding him, that he might not show up this evening.

He’s glaring at his phone, already planning on just how embarrassing it will be to walk back to his place with Simon still hanging about, when a voice breaks through.

“Good evening, darling. Looks like we both like to be early,” a smooth voice says.

Alec looks up and sees Magnus. His breath stutters.

Magnus is wearing black trousers cuffed at the ankle with black ankle boots with a low heel. His shirt is a swirling mix of gold and red and there’s matching blond highlights running through his hair. His makeup is sharp and flawless. Alec’s brain short circuits a bit and there’s a beat of silence before he comes back online, a genuine smile lighting up his face.

“Magnus, hey. You’re looking well.” He fumbles a bit at the end, but Magnus’s smile doesn’t falter as he gives Alec a once-over.

Magnus waves a head dismissively. “No need to flatter me. I’ve been running around all day like a chicken with its head cut off. My students were exceptionally needy today. Inconvenient that it was today of all days, but it’s good to know that they do care a bit more than their blank faces suggest most of the time.”

Alec lets out a breath as he processes Magnus’s words. There’s a pinch of relief knowing that Magnus was busy. He wasn’t actively ignoring Alec. Although in the next second that turns to sardonic self-chastisement. They’re barely friends and Alec is worried about Magnus losing interest? This isn’t high school and he needs to get a grip.

The two of them stare at each other for a long minute, a bubble of stillness as people bustle around them, heading home from work or out to dinner.

Alec shakes himself and nods towards the glass doors of the library.

“Ready to head inside?”

Magnus nods once and smiles, turning with a bit of flair, and holds the door open for Alec when they reach it.

Alec swoons a little at such a simple gesture and tries to ignore how such a little thing makes him warm.

The New York Public Library is buzzing. There are children in one area enthralled with story-time and teens sitting on their phones looking disillusioned and bored in the lobby. There are a number of adults standing at the checkout line and as they walk through the library towards the event room, Alec’s eyes catch on a book display.

Alec keeps up with a handful of writers, is passionate about a range of topics. The display looks to be about new nonfiction and as he looks over the book covers, his gaze lands on a name. Magnus, who was keeping stride with him, falters imperceptibly as he, too, takes a closer look at the line of books.

Alec takes in the title as he picks it up.

European Conquerors: The Rise of European Imperialism in the Seventeenth Century.

It looks to be an anthology and Magnus’s name is the last one, in the place where the most well-known academics are always put, as a sort of literary coup de grace. Alec doesn’t know Magnus’s last name, but it’s not like his is a well-known first name.

Alec repeats it in his head. Magnus Bane. Looking over at the man in question, he’s fiddling with his ear cuff, studiously not returning Alec’s questioning gaze.

There’s a moment of silence as Alec reads the synopsis, glances through the book. Finally, he looks up to see Magnus’s eyes already on him.

His lips quirk up as he raises a brow. “I mean, obviously you’re a brilliant professor, but I didn’t know just how well-regarded you were in your field.”

Magnus shakes his head a little, smiles as he sees Alec tuck the copy under his arm. He starts speaking as they continue to make their way to the meeting room.

“And why would you, darling? We travel in very different circles. You might be well-read but I’ve chosen a career as an academic. I don’t dedicate my life to things that I’m not very good at.”

Alec huffs out a laugh, hums a little in agreement. It’s only a minute later that they’re entering the room. It’s one of the library’s bigger meeting rooms, with a projector hook-up on the ceiling and the screen already pulled down. It’s only about a third full, as they’re just under half an hour early, and Alec faces a bit of a conundrum.

It’s impossible to deny that if anyone saw him, this could turn into a circus within minutes. Alec has had to give up a lot of things for his career but he loves going to lectures and museums and movie theatres-- he’s just gained a better strategy these past few years.

Seeming to pick up on Alec’s thoughts, Magnus falls back a step, following Alec as he makes his way to a row in the middle at the very end, opposite from the door, by the window. They sit down on the hard plastic chairs and there’s a moment of silence.

Alec is overtly aware of Magnus sitting right next to him, so close that their shoulders brush together. He smells his cologne-- sandalwood-- and is a little overwhelmed.

Alec can’t remember the last time a guy affected him like this.

He doesn’t have long to think about the repercussions of that, though, because Magnus turns in his chair, angling towards him, and gives him a less-than-subtle once-over.

“So, darling, tell me. How did such a famous celebrity become so interested in scholarly pursuits?”

Alec laughs a little. “It’s a pretty boring story, really. I started singing when I was sixteen and by the time I graduated high school, I was lined up to tour and record for the next few years. It seemed liked every moment was taken up with making sure I stayed relevant back in those days. College was out of the question, but I was class valedictorian. I was a giant nerd, really, and I figured just because I couldn’t get a degree didn’t mean that I couldn’t learn on my own time, about things I was really interested in. Reading, and documentaries, really became an escape from the crazy world I was not only catapulted into, but was kind of made the king?

“I could learn about Chinese emperors from thousands of years ago or how the brain works. I love history, though, because it’s just so vast, but I dabble in a lot of different areas. Plus, I like to read fiction. Honestly, you name it, I’ve probably read a book on it. I guess, reading is just a passion of mine. I always like to pop into bookstores in every country I tour and I’ve held a NYPL library card since I could walk. I make sure to keep it renewed and while it’s gotten harder the past few years, when I’m in the city for a while, I always visit. They have really excellent collections and their programming is always full of interesting events.”

Alec breaks off, realizing that he’s been talking nonstop. He looks over at Magnus, expecting to see glazed eyes and regret. However, Magnus is looking at him attentively, smiling just a bit.

Alec gets a little lost in those eyes, such a deep brown, and jolts a little when Magnus starts talking.

“I’m proud of you, Alexander,” he says warmly. “It couldn’t have been easy being so young and then thrust into such a world. It’s great to have that anchor that lets you take a step away every once in a while.”

Alec flushes a little, uncomfortable with the praise. He’s received every possible compliment in every combination, but just a few kind words from Magnus has heat building in his cheeks.

He clears his throat.

“Thanks, Magnus. I know it’s not as impressive as you-- a professor at Columbia for fuck’s sake-- but I enjoy it. Speaking of, what made you go into academia?”

Magnus barks out a laugh. “Well, I promise you I never intended to follow this path. In high school, I admit I was a bit of a dismal student. I aced my classes but it was purely because I didn’t have to work for it. School was easy and it left me with entirely too much time to get up to no good. I hung out with a bit of a bad crowd who thought school and homework was ‘lame’ and useless. I usually felt like a criminal working on my papers and assignments in secret.

“It was my senior year and by the grace of God, I had a teacher who took an interest in me. She had to be seventy-- she wore those tortoise shell glasses that hang from the neck-- and she told me that I had potential. Now being a snot-nosed teenager, I curled my lip at the motivational speech and dashed off to meet my friends. Yet, she didn’t give up. Slowly but surely, I started pulling away from those friends and staying after school with her. She would grade papers while I worked on homework and, eventually, college applications. She must have written one hell of a recommendation because I landed a spot at Yale and I haven’t looked back.”

Alec takes in what Magnus has just said, impressed.

“It had to be hard moving to a brand new city, right? Especially since you’d left your old friends behind even before graduation.”

Magnus hums, thinking. “I think it would have been harder if I wouldn’t have made such great friends right off the bat. My roommate freshman year was a transplant from London and while he’s insufferable, he’s also the best friend I could ever ask for-- just don’t tell him that. We both teach at Columbia and it’s been, my God, over ten years now that we’ve known each other.”

“Wait, where are you from,” Alec asks, backtracking a little as he realizes that he’d just assumed that Magnus had upended his life to move to university.

Magnus smirks. “New York born and bred, darling. I live in Brooklyn, now, and honestly can’t imagine myself living anywhere else. I went to England for my doctorate and while lovely, there’s just something about this city that I don’t think I can escape-- or that I would even if I could.”

Alec’s just opening his mouth to ask a question-- the more he knows, the more he wants to know-- when a voice comes on over the speaker.

There’s a few seconds of feedback from the microphone before it’s clear.

“Good evening, everyone, and welcome to the New York Public Library. This evening we have Dr. Lorenzo Rey who’s here to talk about the history of fascism and its role in today’s political climate. Lorenzo is an adjunct professor at NYU and wrote his thesis on the topic.”

There’s a smattering of applause and Alec sinks down a little in his seat, trying his best to remain unobtrusive. He claps a few times but notices that Magnus doesn’t, that he just recrosses his legs and leans back in his seat. It’s a little incongruous that he’d be so rude, especially given everything Alec’s seen so far about the man, but he shrugs it off. Not everyone needs to applaud all of the time, after all.

Dr. Rey talks for an hour. His presentation is informative and Alec wishes he’d thought to bring a notebook to write down some of the more interesting tidbits. He has a tendency to speak directly from the slides-- breaking off only to share personal anecdotes that are probably meant to be funny and endearing, but all in all it’s not the worst lecture Alec’s ever been to.

The speaker opens the floor up for questions and Magnus’s hand immediately shoots up, along with a half a dozen others. If Alec didn’t know better, he’d think that this Dr. Rey was trying to ignore Magnus, as he calls on every other person before finally acknowledging him.

Magnus hasn’t gotten impatient or frustrated. He’s been calmly keeping his hand raised, waiting to be called on.

With an infinitesimal pause that Alec doubts anyone but the three of them notice, Magnus starts speaking. His question appears to have several parts and though Alec is obviously no slouch, he can hardly keep up with the esoteric language.

Magnus is the picture of earnest, appearing like the proverbial scholar just trying to gain answers to a topic of extreme interest. Alec detects the edges of a smirk curling on Magnus’s lips, though, and wonders what he’s missing.

Rey takes a few long minutes to answer, stumbling over his words a few times. At this point Alec isn’t paying too much attention to the content, trying to figure out the dynamics and hidden meanings between these two.

There’s a pause and Alec shakes his head a little, turning in to see that Dr. Rey is apparently finished with his response. Alec can’t be sure but it looks like he’s sweating.

Alec looks over at Magnus and sees nothing but professional calm, though he can’t deny that smug tilt of his head.

The program ends just a minute later and they stay sitting while everyone else floods out, some people walking up to the front of the room to speak to the presenter more directly. It had been a packed room-- over a hundred people-- and once there’s only a dozen or so people lingering, Alec stands up, Magnus following suit.

“So,” Alec starts. “What did you think of the lecture?”

Magnus hums, narrowing his eyes a little as he thinks. “There was a lot of good information. Overall, I’d say he did a competent job.”

They walk out of the room into the busy center of the library. There are people everywhere and Alec’s heart warms-- he loves libraries and it’s good to see one thriving.

He looks over at Magnus as they start walking towards the self checkout kiosk-- Alec still needs to get the book he’d picked up before the program.

“Competent? That’s more generous than I expected. I’m fairly sure I detected some tension between the two of you.”

Chuckling, Magnus responds, “What you detected, darling, was professional rivalry. That I’m winning. Really, it’s not even a rivalry. It’s just Rey oozing his envy all over the place.”

Magnus breaks off and gives Alec a look as he realizes where they’re headed. His eyes dart down to the book that Alec’s been holding onto since they walked in the door.

“You don’t have to actually checkout that book, you know. I’m sure you have better things on your reading list than a dry anthology about imperial conquests several centuries ago.”

Alec just hums a little as he reaches for his wallet, taking out his library card. “No, this has just moved to the number one spot. I won’t guarantee that I’ll read it all-- but I’m definitely going to at least read your chapter.” He throws an open grin over to Magnus.

There’s no response. Magnus just fiddles with that ear cuff and smiles a little, seemingly to himself. Alec quickly scans the book and takes his receipt before facing his new friend completely.

It’s just shy of eight and the sun’s still up. They’ve been together a little over two hours but Alec’s not ready for the evening to end. Magnus is quickly becoming an endless fascinating puzzle to him-- the more he knows, the more he wants to know. Magnus’s intense focus during the lecture was endearing and. . . a little hot, if he’s being honest with himself.

Sue him, he’s always been attracted to the smart ones. There’s just something about intelligence-- as long as it’s balanced out with warmth and humor-- that never fails to make him a little hot under the collar.

Clearing his throat, Alec chastises himself and reiterates that they are just friends. Nothing more. Magnus is looking at him expectantly and Alec says the first thing that comes to mind.

“I don’t know what your schedule is like but if you don’t have a too early morning, we could get ice cream? I know this little mom and pop shop just a block or two over.”

Before Magnus can respond, Alec rushes out, “But, there’s no pressure obviously. We only agreed to the library part. Who knows, you might already have plans for the rest of the night.”

Magnus smiles at him and as they walk out of the library.

“I do have plans. It looks like there’s a little ice cream shop that I simply have to try,” he says with a grin.

Alec’s nerves settle a little and he nods, smiling back at this entrancing man before him. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go.”

They start walking down the block. The streets are busy and the two of them stay close, walking in sync. Their hands brush together, once, and heat climbs up the back of Alec’s neck.

Neither one acknowledges it.

It’s only a few minutes later that Alec’s swinging open a cheery blue door, hears the faint tinkling of a bell chiming above their heads. Magnus nods once to thank Alec for holding the door open for him.

Alec’s studying him closely, gauging his reaction. The place only has four tables, all of them currently unoccupied. It’s really not trendy, just a hole-in-the-wall ice cream parlor that serves homemade ice cream-- the best he’s ever had. The decor is eccentric with jarring patterns and clashing colors. It’s hideous but fun and their flavors match the ambiance.

Magnus looks around for a moment before turning to Alec, who’s just inside the door.

“Well, darling, I have to admit that even when you said mom and pop, I wasn’t expecting a place so hidden away. I’ve probably walked right past this place a dozen times and never given it a second thought. It’s cute, though.” He laughingly grimaces. “In a kitschy sort of way, of course.”

Alec laughs. “Their decorating is a bit of a train wreck, but I love it. It really fits the owners.”

The two of them walk up to the counter and look over the dozen flavors displayed below. Against the back wall there’s a menu with a few other treats-- sundaes, blizzards, milkshakes, and some novelty desserts like frozen chocolate-covered bananas.

There are a few of the classics like vanilla and rocky road, but one reason Alec loves this place is because their offerings can be a little out of the box. There’s a lavender, pistachio rose, and even the ubiquitous chocolate and bacon. Alec shudders just thinking about trying that heinous flavor.

Magnus’s eyes are roving over the shop, looking at the ice cream and the menu, occasionally getting stuck at a newly seen piece of decor, when the door behind the counter swings open to reveal a graying man with two tattoo sleeves, a buzzcut, and a septum piercing.

The man laughs delightedly as he takes in his latest customers.

“If it isn’t Alec. Boy, it’s been too long since you showed your miserable face in these parts.”

Alec laughs as he walks closer to the counter, leaning over it to give the man a bear hug.

“Hey, Marv,” he says, pulling back. “I just got back from work and figured I’d stop by.”

He can feel Magnus’s eyes on his back but doesn’t pull his attention from Marv. There’s a minute of pleasantries before the bell above the front door chimes open and an elderly woman as round as she is tall walks in. She has to be eighty if she’s a day, but she has good bones-- she doesn’t look over sixty-five. She breaks into a smile as she takes in the customer at the register.

“Alec,” she cries and toddles forward. Alec meets her halfway, bending down to return her hug. She only comes up to his chest.

“Anna,” Alec says warmly. “Long time, no see.”

Anna slaps at his arm, playfully, as she glares at him. “A bit more than a long time. It has to be a year since you last graced our place with that handsome face.”

Smiling, Alec just offers, “You know how work is. You put your head down to finish a project and before you know it, it’s been months and you’re just catching up to real life.”

Both Anna and Marv laugh. “We know all about that, son. The first few years we owned this shop, we barely took enough time away to sleep.” He points a gnarled finger at Alec. “Just make sure you don’t run yourself ragged. You have to take time for the important things and fuck knows work isn’t that.”

Alec laughs a little and when he looks up, his eyes meet Magnus’s. Alec’s breath catches, just for a second. He doesn’t know what Magnus is thinking, but Alec can’t help but picture a life in the slower lane, even if it's just for a moment. He won’t ever leave the industry, but it does sound idyllic, imagining coming home from either a long day at the studio or from getting his ass handed to him from corporate execs, and there’s a man waiting for him with a soft kiss and lingering touch.

A man that looks suspiciously like Magnus.

The moment, whatever the hell it was, is broken in a second as Anna turns to Magnus and takes him in. She goes in for a hug and, though obviously surprised, Magnus returns it, smiling at Alec above her head.

She pulls back and pinches his arm, lightly, obviously admiring his muscles.

“Well, I see you brought a fella around, dear. It’s about time. God knows Marv and me have been wondering when you’d settle down with a nice man.”

Alec chokes on nothing.

“Uh, no, Anna. This is Magnus. He’s just a friend.”

Anna walks over to Marv, behind the counter, and they share a look. She throws on an apron and washes her hands before turning back to them.

“Whatever you say, dear.”

She smiles as she says it, but then she winks at Magnus and Alec wishes the ground would swallow him up.

Magnus truly is a friend, and while Alec can’t help but think of what it could be like to have more, he doesn’t want to scare Magnus off before they’ve finished hanging out for the first damn time.

Magnus takes in stride, just raises a brow to Alec before laughing it off. Alec knows it’s stupid, but he feels a little disappointed at Magnus’s obvious brush-off.

He rallies instantaneously and clears his throat. He tilts his head to Magnus, towards the tubs of ice cream, a silent question.

Magnus nods and they walk up to the register. Alec orders a double scoop of cookies n’ cream in a cup while Magnus chooses clementine pomegranate in a cone.

Alec pays, brushing off Magnus’s offer, and sits down at the table nearest the door. It’s in front of the window, a perfect opportunity to people watch as the sun starts to dip in the sky.

There’s a few minutes of silence as they get settled and take the first few tastes of their ice cream.

Finally, Alec can’t take it anymore.

“So, what do you think?”

Magnus takes another lick of his cone, tongue slowly trailing up the side where some had started to melt down, and hums.

Alec feels death.

“It’s delicious, of course. I should have known that you’d be right. This is definitely my new favorite dessert stop.”

Alec blinks a few times, trying to break his focus on Magnus’s mouth.

He grins. “I’m glad you like it. This is one of a kind, that’s for sure.”

“You’ll get no disagreement from me. How did you even hear about this place, darling?”

“I was just strolling through the city one morning, looking for inspiration. I had planned to write all day-- this was during recording for my fourth album-- and I saw this bright blue door tucked into an alley. I was curious, so I checked it out. They’re open twenty-four hours a day, and I just set my songbook on a table and walked up to order. It was fun and I thought that even if I didn’t get anything done for the day, I could enjoy some ice cream. Turns out, Marv and Anna were both working that day and I ended up talking to them for a few hours. They’re a hoot.”

Magnus takes another obscene lick and laughs. “I got that impression, really just from the shop.” He pauses, sucks some ice cream that’s dripped onto his thumb into his mouth.

Alec’s blood rushes south and he starts reciting lyrics from his first album as a distraction.

“Excuse me if I’m wrong, but I get the impression that Marv and Anna don’t know that you’re famous.”

Alec huffs out a laugh, takes a breath. He’s comfortable answering this question.

“They don’t,” he says, bluntly. “I think they think I’m like a Wall Street broker or some shit. They just know I work a lot. Nothing else.”

Magnus studies Alec for a minute and Alec looks down at his ice cream a few seconds in, taking a few large spoonfuls as he waits for a response.

“It must be nice to be anonymous here,” Magnus says softly.

Alec’s gaze shoots up and his eyes bore into Magnus’s for a moment.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “I’m used to being recognized anywhere I go. I like to savor the moments when I can just be, when I’m just one man among a million. It sounds like bullshit I know, but these simple times keep me sane.”

Magnus gets it. It’s only a piece of the bigger puzzle, a little hint at his life, but Magnus understands that his life isn’t completely his own. It’s nice to know there are still people who see Alec as a person.

He’d been running out of hope.

Magnus seems uncharacteristically fidgety for a minute, his hand lingering in the air before returning to the table in a loose fist.

He smiles at Alec.

“Thank you for sharing this with me.”

Alec immediately nods. “Of course. I know we just met and that we’re new friends, but I hope that we can be friends long-term, Magnus. I like hanging out with you and hope we can do something again.”

Magnus finishes his cone and stands up to throw the last of it in the trash. When he comes back to the table, he’s smiling, softly.

He’s beautiful, Alec thinks.

“I like hanging out with you, too, Alexander. I want to be friends with you. I wouldn’t have given you my number if I didn’t see something worth pursuing.”

He’s probably grinning stupidly but Alec can’t find it in himself to give a fuck.

“Great. I’m glad we’re on the same page, Magnus.”

It’s quiet, both of them taking in the night, watching people rush by outside, as Alec finishes his own ice cream. This quiet is nice. It’s different than what he’s used to. Alec loves silence when he’s by himself but he’s found that when he’s with other people, there’s a constant need to fill the space. Not by him, but whoever’s he’s with always talks. They can’t just stand still for a moment and enjoy the peace. It’s by turns saddened and pissed him off. These days, it’s just annoying when someone won’t shut up.

He’s glad Magnus can enjoy the quiet, too.

Eventually, they stand up and head out the door, Alec leaving a hundred on the table after Magnus is outside.

He hurries to catch up to him and breathes in the cool air. There’s not quite as many people out now. It’s just Alec and Magnus standing still as people walk past them.

It’s a moment Alec savors, commits to memory. This is the first time he’s been with anyone new in a strictly platonic sense in longer than he cares to remember. It fills his chest with warmth to know that there’s potential here for a real connection, no matter what kind.

His thoughts break off as he hears Magnus clear his throat.

“So, darling, I was thinking we could meet for lunch one day next week. I don’t know what your schedule is like, but I’ll probably be living at the university next week, but I’d still like to make some time to see you again.”

Alec nods, probably more enthusiastically than strictly needed. “Yeah, that sounds great. What day works for you? I’m pretty flexible.”

Magnus’s eyes squint adorably as he thinks. “I have a standing lunch on Mondays and office hours all afternoon Tuesday. What about Wednesday? There’s this little diner on campus with the best burgers.”

“That sounds perfect. I do love a good burger, you know,” Alec says, delighted.

Magnus nods, dryly. “I had heard that, yes. What do you say to meeting there around 1:30? It’s summer, so campus is usually pretty dead. There shouldn’t be a lot of people there who could recognize you.”

Alec nods, gratefully. “That works. Thanks for thinking of that.”

“Of course, darling, goodness knows I don’t want to be responsible for a riot on Columbia’s grounds. Think of my reputation, after all,” he says with a joking grin.

“Right,” Alec rolls his eyes. “You’re just protecting yourself.”

There’s a beat of silence. This is usually the part where, if this was a date, Alec would lean in and kiss him. This isn’t a date, though, and Alec is at a loss. Thankfully, Magnus steps up.

“I had a wonderful time, Alec, but I need to be heading home. I have that dreaded 8 a.m. class in the morning and I need my beauty sleep if I’m to be presentable for my students. Goodnight, darling.”

Magnus takes a step backward, winking.

“See you, Wednesday.”

Alec nods, unspeaking, and Magnus turns around and heads down the street. He looks relaxed and confident and Alec notices a few heads turn as he passes a few people, street lights showing both men and women taking a second look.

Alec sympathizes.

Alec stands for a moment, letting the last few hours play over in his mind before he turns around and starts heading towards the subway station.

It’s been an exciting day but he’s ready to head home and crash.

He only hopes Simon is already asleep. He doesn’t want to be confronted with an endless string of questions, no matter how well-intentioned.

This thing-- this friendship-- with Magnus is so new and so are the feelings it’s dredging up. Alec wants to sit on tonight for a while. It feels so fragile. It’s just his, no one else's. He doesn’t think he wants anyone else to know about it yet.

It’s just him and Magnus for now, in a little bubble.

Alec smiles, content at the image.

He walks quietly down the block, minding his own business.

He doesn’t hear the flash of a camera down the block, doesn’t feel the eyes following him from the ice cream parlor.

[blazinginbus1]

what are ur top ten favorite zouis moments and why are they your favorites? :)

Buckle up, sweetcheeks, You’re in for a wild ride.

1. “…And I Love You.”

This is my favorite, by far. Cant explain to you why, but seeing how naturally that came to mind for Louis, how randomly he chose to say it, just strikes me really hard in the heart. Like, he just wanted to remind Zayn how much he loves him, and is glad he’s with them. Then, you see how quickly Z goes from smiling and being silly, to looking at Louis with utter genuineness, “…I Love You, Too.” LIKE…how does this not play on your Zouie emotions?

2. Just play with his hair, Zayn, dammit!

Do I really need to explain why I love this? Like…? Probably couldn’t if I tried, but the fact that Louis was unspokenly prodding Zayn to pet him was too much sweetness in one moment. And knowing Zayn, he does as he’s asked and rakes his hands though. PLEASE, you two.

3. “You want a spring roll, bebz?”

The entire Zouis moment is great! But, what i love most about it was seeing how adorable they looked feeding each other!

Do you see how tenderly Louis brings the food to Zayn’s mouth? Just nimble little fingers bringing the food right to Zayn’s lips. And like a fresh, newborn spring deer, Zayn takes the food, then offering some back. If you wanna factor in Harry ‘getting jealous,’ so be it. But this is undoubtedly a Zouis moment, full stop. Not a care of anyone else in that room besides the other.

4. The Kiss Down Under

You can literally never ever, ever make me forget this happening. The visuals, the sounds, the kissing. Its all permanently burned into my brain. I can understand Louis throwing his arm over Zayn’s shoulder. What I DONT GET is why Zayn kissed it. He deadass kissed his hand, loud enough to make a sound. The sound of his LIPS smacking against Louis’ hand. How Charming of you, Zayn. To make it even worse, though; Louis acts like a giggly little school boy getting away with something he shouldn’t on the playground. they seal the deal by Louis dragging Zayn away playfully after the interview, off to cause more trouble.

5. Pucker up, pretty paper boy!

It’s silly, but it’s also very cute, and very playful. Louis simply could not deal with not drumming up the theatrics, so of course he had to bring in the kissy sounds while their paper dolls made out. But, judging by that look on Zayno’s face, he didn’t much mind it. : )

6. “What Is The One Thing You Can Not Live Without?”

Ughhhh….We all knew this was coming. We did. And when i watched the video back just now, I literally had to hold my head in my hands and sigh for literally two minutes. I simply have NO words to describe this moment. Do you? Does anyone?? It’s all too much sometimes, how serious and out of left field that response was. Louis wasn’t expecting it, that’s for damn sure. He thought Zayn would come up with some silly, throwaway joke like Niall. BOOOY, did he play himself. Zayn literally looked Louis in the eye, put on a serious face, and answered it as heartfelt as he could. Simply, “You.”

Zayn literally couldn’t imagine not having Louis in his life. Let that settle in your brain. He needed, and still does, need Louis in his life. That makes him happy. And Louis actually was so stuuned Zayn would choose him, he had to clarify whether he meant the fans and not him. “Cause surely he wouldn’t mean me,” Louis thinks. But he did. and pulled Louis into a warm hug. This is one of the most adorable Zouis moments ever. They love each other so much!

7. The Broz and That Balloon

Now, listen….This is a moment I truly cannot comprehend. I simply cant understand why. For some unknown reason, Tumblr only allows five videos in a post, so i’ve linked it here. It literally is such an underappreciated moment. Please, for my sanity, PLEASE look at Zayn’s hand on the back of Louis’ head. And wallow in the pain with me. That balloon is merely acting as a thin, latex barrier between their love. The verge of a kiss, i will never get over it!

8. The Mystery Machine!

Oh, my my! What a fantastic time that was when they revealed they combined their money and ideas to get a personalized, monogrammed, decked out Mystery Machine! Again, video linked here. But truly? We did not know true Zouis happiness until we watched their faces in this video.

They were like two kids in a candy store. All the gadgets, devices, and comforts one two would need for a night of booze and blunts, coffee and video games. I, truly, cannot say enough about this, but i’ll just leave it at this. The Mystery Machine still resides at Louis’ London home; while Zayn, to this day, commemorates it with a tiny, toy version to remind him of what they still have.

9. Soft Bros AT Spin Radio

This one is...Goodness. I have never seen them so touchy-feely before. Louis was so needy that day. Draping himself over Zayn,

Zayn draping himself over Louis,

butting heads, in the cutest way, of course,

And even getting a little handsy,

I couldn't tell you why, but they were in their feels that day. Video here. My brain has successfully short-circuited, so i cant explain why these gifs are everything, but you can all clearly see how touchy and close they were that early on. Blows my mind!

10. Got Your Back, Bro.

This is a sweet one to wrap up. I couldn't tell you why this makes me so happy to see always, but it does.

I die twice over every time Louis goes in for a *pat-pat* on Zayn’s bum after fixing his pants. Is that typical dude bro behavior? I dunno, but its cute. Video here, as well. It’s such a simple gesture, but not one you’d be comfortable with just anyone doing to you. Which is why it caught Zayn so off-guard, but once he knew it was his Lou, its was all fine. I love this.

Anywho, this has gone on WAY too far, and my brain hurts from how much Zouis i had to re-digest. But it was worth every minute. They are the cutest, and you cannot simplify  them and their relationship in just a few videos and gifs, but there’s surely so much i HAVENT talked about, but we'll save that for another day. Thank you for asking, gorgeous, i hope this was worth the read!