#nearly died but hey maybe I’ll make cool art out of it

[tombfriend]

boys don’t cry

[bestiesenpai]

Youtuber Sukuna pt3

Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to get through this thing called life! I never thought youtuber sukuna would be so popular, so thank you everyone for giving me encouragement to continue this lil series. This will be the final part, but who’s to say we can’t have an OVA episode?? I smell a beach episode...or maybe a trip to an onsen? Who knows!

Part one --- part two

This had to be the stupidest thing he’d ever done. It certainly felt like it. Scrolling on Pinterest was the last thing he wanted to do, in fact it was something he openly mocked in the past, but now per your advice, he was looking at thousands of photos of home decor.

Sukuna was hesitant to admit to you that he had no furniture in his home. After seeing how well decorated and lived in your home was, it only made his shame increase at being a grown man with foldable furniture. But you took it in stride and offered to help, even making him share a Pinterest board with you so the two of you could get inspiration for a shopping trip.

That’s how he found himself at IKEA on a bright and early Saturday morning. You’d begged him to let you come shopping with him, and Sukuna was a man unable to refuse any request you made of him.

“Ah, this is going to be so exciting!” You shouted, nearly running to the carts at the front of the store. You were clearly more excited than he was, your energy seemed to know no bounds as you bounced on your heels and waited for him to trudge to the front door.

“What’s so exciting about furniture?” He grumbled, subconsciously taking the cart from your hands. Pushing into the store, Sukuna felt like he had been transported to another world. With staged living quarters that looked more real than his own home, he was at a loss for words.

“Sukuna, c’mere!” You were already ten paces ahead, standing at the entrance to one said fake home. Coming upon it, Sukuna nearly gagged at the color palette. There were bright orange tufted couches with a blue area rug and more pillows than he had owned his whole life. With white accents and gunmetal colored lamps, it looked far too much for him.

“It’s ugly.” He said, not caring about the other people around you that seemed to enjoy it.

“Really?” Taking another look around, you shrugged your shoulders and took a step back. “You’re right, it doesn’t really fit your whole vibe.”

That was definitely correct. If Sukuna had to give a name to his personal style it would be ‘who the fuck cares as long as it works’. He wasn’t one to dwell on his looks for too long, just content grabbing clothes that were easily accessible and trendy, ones that he knew would help him fit in. And that habit had bled into his furniture choice as well.

“Okay, you seemed to pin a lot of pictures that look like this-” Leaning over, he watched you scroll past picture after picture of what almost looked like the same thing, a living room with dark colored couches, a white rug and dark colored walls, almost always with a metal or dark wooden coffee table.

“Yeah, it fits me.” Wandering through the store, Sukuna glanced at an all white room with a window frame encasing a faux view of a city lit up at night. “None of this shit.” He made a vague gesture to the room, and the one following it that looked similar.

“You don’t want any bright colors at all?”

“My hair’s already pink, what more do you want?” That made you snort and giggle, and in turn made Sukuna smile.

“Okay but you can’t just have all black furniture, it’ll make your house feel like a dungeon.” Your hand came to rest on the handle of the shopping cart, dangerously close to laying on top of his. “Promise we’ll get at least a little color today? Maybe a yellow, or a pink to match your hair.”

“S-sure.” Sukuna couldn’t look at anything except for your hand. Your pinky finger was just barely touching his, almost enough that Sukuna could slide his hand under yours and interlace your fingers together.

“Ooh, what about this for your bedroom?” And just like that, you were gone. Dashing off to a display on the wall for bed sheets. “You said you only have a plain white one, right?”

“Yeah.”

“How about this? This design is really trendy right now.” You were pointing to one that was a deep navy, white grid lines crossing over to make big squares.

“I like it.”

“Awesome! Now, do you have a queen or a king bed?”

After picking out the bed sheets, Sukuna slowly opened up more to the idea of shopping. He was able to recognize pieces he’d seen on Pinterest, picking them out as things he readily liked and would enjoy looking at in his house. He was even persuaded to get a few area rugs for different places in his house, and before he knew it you had piled the basket high with things.

“Ah, today was so much fun!” You sang, bouncing in your seat on the way home from IKEA.

“Now I just need to build all this shit.” Sukuna was amazed at how much you’d convinced him to buy. He had new furniture for his bedroom, a new couch was going to be delivered, a dining table and chairs and even a new desk and chair for his office setup in the corner of his living room.

“Lemme help!” You looked far too eager to help him build, and although Sukuna wanted to tell you no - he really didn’t want you to see how he was currently living - he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to have you in his house with him, working together on something.

“Alright. Let’s stop somewhere and get food though, I’m hungry.”

One quick fast food meal that Sukuna loathed later, you were carrying things up to his apartment. He refused to let you carry the heavy things even if he could really use the help with some of the oblong boxes. But he didn’t want to risk you getting hurt, so you carried the small things.

When everything was inside the house, Sukuna watched your reaction to his place. You hadn’t made a sound when you first arrived, you were probably too busy trying to bring everything in from his car.

“Sukuna…” Scanning his apartment, your eyes landed on his abysmal furniture.

“Yeah?” He screwed his eyes shut, dreading what you had to say.

“This is totally what I expected from you.” You laughed, unpacking some of the fake plants you made him buy. “It totally fits you.” Letting out the breath he’d been holding in, Sukuna grabbed one of the boxes containing his new desk.

“Let’s get started.”

If Sukuna thought cooking with you was hard, building furniture with you was the final boss level. He had you read the instructions while he laid all the pieces out, and when you let out a whine at how many steps there were, Sukuna could have died happily right then and there.

It was easy to build the furniture he bought, but it wasn’t easy to work with you. There was no problem with your actual work, but the fact that Sukuna had to be so close to you at times, nearly hugging you when he had to hold up a piece for you to put a few screws in, it was too much to handle.

He quickly banished you to work on another project. It was your fault he kept getting distracted and forgetting what step he was on, so the only solution was to work on separate things. Plus, watching you flit around his house, hearing you change the bed sheets and lay down a new mat in the bathroom made him feel like you were newlyweds decorating your first home together.

“It looks so good in here!” It was well past dark when you finished everything. It truly did look like a brand new space, and not just in the living room. The touches you’d added, with bright pillows, fake plants and some actual art on the walls, made Sukuna happy to be home. His place finally felt like a home and not just somewhere to crash at the end of the day.

“You did a great job picking shit out, I woulda never been able to do all this.” Putting his arm around your shoulder, he gave you a squeeze.

“Are you gonna do a house tour when the couch and table come?” A house tour? Why would he do that? Knitting his brows together, Sukuna sent you a look. “C’mon, you know what a house tour is! All the popular Youtubers do them.” You giggled, wiggling your eyebrows. “And aren’t you a popular Youtuber?”

“I-” Well, you had him beat there. His subscriber count was well into the millions at this point. “Okay, I’ll do one when the rest of the stuff comes.”

“Yes!” Bouncing up and down in joy, you clapped your hands together. “I’ll help you film, I know how bad you are at angles.”

“Hey! I’ve been getting better!”

In a week, you were back at his place, more excited than him to film this video. You’d helped prepare a little script should he need it, and you were fluffing all the pillows so they looked nice on camera.

“Let’s have an entryway shot, those always look so cool!”

“Whatever you say.” Sukuna was merely a puppet on your strings, maneuvering however you saw fit. He made his hands as steady as possible getting b-roll shots of everything in advance.

“If you forget what to say, remember I made a script!” With that final warning, you were standing at the entrance to his apartment and waving your hand. “Okay, start!”

“Hi people on the internet. This is my house tour that (Y/N) is making me do.”

“Shut up!” You laughed behind the camera, trying not to shake it.

“This is my kitchen and dining room, (Y/N) picked out the table and chairs for me.” Doing a sweep over the kitchen, he transitioned to the living room. “And this is the lounge room, where (Y/N) picked out the couch and rug, and my desk stuff over there.”

“Yeah, Sukuna had no rugs in his apartment before!”

“Mhmm.” Somehow Sukuna managed to not stumble over his words, easily recalling parts of the script you had written for him. Highlighting the fake plants and cheap art on the walls, the two of you stood in the bathroom together.

“Look, it’s us!” You waved to the camera in the mirror, nudging your shoulder with Sukuna. Suddenly, the image of getting ready in the morning with you or winding down after a long day together in the bath flashed before Sukunas eyes. What would it be like to come into the bathroom while you were in the shower and join you? Give you a shoulder massage under the hot running water, or to brush his teeth and tell you to hurry up and not waste water.

“And this is the bedroom.” Quickly exiting the bathroom, Sukuna hid his blush with his hand as he entered the room.

“Hold this.” Shoving the camera in his hands, you leapt onto the bed. “This is where I sleep!” Your laugh was easy and you rolled around his bed a few times, simply having fun wrinkling the sheets.

“Uh- w-wha-” Sukuna nearly dropped the camera in shock. Seeing you in his bed, even if it was just on top of the sheets fully clothed, made his heart stop. Gripping the camera hard in his suddenly sweaty hands, Sukuna nearly tossed it to the side and joined you.

“Just kidding!” You were already climbing out of bed as soon as that thought entered his head. “But isn’t this room pretty? I picked out most of the stuff in here too.” Just like that you were back to normal, talking about some random print on the wall that he’d ordered per your suggestion.

Needless to say, Sukuna had a hard time falling asleep that night, the image of you in his bed burned into his mind like it was the only thought he’d ever have again. His imagination was going wild, and he tossed and turned all night - even after relieving some tension.

With his new desk setup, Sukuna felt motivated to edit the video as fast as he could. What you said about improving his living quarters was true; now that his place looked nice, he felt nice in turn. He even left in the part where you jumped on his bed, adding a funny break in the video like you’d shown him.

‘IT’S CONFIRMED. IT’S CONFIRMED. THEY’RE DATING’

��sirpohdjb my ship has sailed!!’

‘I come here to see why sukunax(Y/N) is trending and it’s this bullshit?? Y’all need to get a life’

Sukuna often felt like a fool when he was with you, and sometime after as well. Even from the first comment he left on your Instagram, he knew people shipped you together and wanted you to date. He felt embarrassed more times than not, but it seemed he never learned his lesson. That scene of you on his bed had gone viral and he regretted leaving it in.

But could you blame him? You made his head spin, most of the time leaving him incapable of doing anything else beside standing in his place looking stupid. It was hard to edit the videos you did together because reliving the footage made him dizzy all over again.

(Y/N): SUKUNA. ANSWER ME ITS URGENT

It was the middle of the day in the middle of the week and Sukuna had nothing better to do than laze around and do nothing. Except now, he was texting you back with his heart suddenly pounding.

Sukuna: what?! Is something wrong where are you??

So much adrenaline was coursing through his body that he had started to shake.

(Y/N): I just got a great idea, I need to know if you’ll do a video with me!

What the fuck.

“What the fuck?” Sukuna said out loud, staring at his phone in disbelief. This is what was so urgent? Nearly sending him into an early grave for a possible video?

Sukuna: what the fuck I thought it was serious

Sukuna: I thought you were in trouble

He wasn’t upset per say, but Sukuna was definitely annoyed.

(Y/N): sorry :( i didn’t mean to scare you

Sukuna: you did more than scare me

(Y/N): I’m sorry! I won’t do it again!

Now Sukuna felt bad and it wasn’t even his fault. In all the time you’d known each other, you never had a negative interaction. He waited five minutes for you to text something, but you didn’t and it was making him anxious all over again.

Sukuna: well tell me what the idea is

(Y/N): no, it’s okay it was a stupid idea anyway

It took you another five minutes to respond, and your answer made Sukuna groan.

Sukuna: you got me all worked up and you’re just gonna leave me hanging?

He had to rectify the situation somehow.

(Y/N): I just thought...of maybe doing your makeup for a video?

Sukuna: what

(Y/N): I told you it was stupid! Just forget it

Sukuna: shut up it’s not stupid

As typing bubbles appeared and then disappeared, Sukuna could just imagine the way your cheeks puffed out indignantly.

(Y/N): here’s a link to someone else who did it with her boyfriend, they had so much fun together!

(Y/N): let me know if you wanna do it, I think it could be a lot of fun…

Sukuna only needed to look at the thumbnail to know he would say yes. The two people on the screen were very close, with the girl nearly touching her boyfriend's face with her own. They had big smiles on their faces as well, and that enticed him more.

Sukuna: I’ll do it

(Y/N): really?? That’s awesome! Come over to my place on Friday, we’ll order pizza and make a day of it!

And that’s how Sukuna found himself in your filming room, stomach full of pizza with a disgustingly cute green frog headband keeping his hair back. He’d seen this room a hundred times in the backgrounds of your videos, but now he was actually here. There were even more plushies than appeared on camera and you had a humidifier going in the corner.

“Okay now stay still, I’m going to wipe a toner on your face.” He had no idea what that meant, watching you with curious eyes pick up a bottle from the table in front of you and dab the liquid onto a cotton pad. “Usually I use my hands to apply toner, but we wanna wipe the dust off.”

With a gentle hand, you held Sukuna by the chin and swiped the cotton across his face, it’s soft chemical scent wafting into his nose. It felt nice, having you apply toner and moisturizer on his face. The most he ever applied was sunscreen, but maybe he could convince you to do his skincare for him every day.

“So today, I chose this makeup look by Beyoncés makeup artist! It’s a really popular style called ‘soft glam’.” Sukuna nodded along with you like he understood what you meant, taking a glance at the picture on your phone before you showed it to the camera. “I think Sukuna would really fit this kind of look, he is a natural beauty afterall.”

“Shut up.” He snorted, a light flush heating his cheeks.

“It’s true! There’s so many comments under your house tour video saying how good you look with the new furniture.” You spoke about the new makeup you bought for the video as you applied the products. Sukuna tried to keep up with what you were doing and saying, but he couldn’t really contribute anything to the conversation about makeup.

“Tuck your lips in so you don’t get foundation in your mouth.”

“What?” He jerked away right as you lifted the small dish you had with what he assumed was foundation.

“I don’t think you want to eat makeup, do you?” You chuckled and pat him on the cheek. “Tuck your lips in.” Doing as you asked, Sukuna flinched when you gripped the back of his head. “Try not to move too much, I want it to be even.”

As you applied the foundation and subsequently the concealer and powder, Sukuna barely moved. In fact, he barely breathed. You had leaned in far closer than you’ve ever been to him, your breath lightly fanning over his face as you worked to smooth everything out.

The hand on the back of his head dipped down to rest at the base of his neck, your body coming to lean more onto him as time went by. You were speaking, Sukuna could hear it, but he wasn’t responding. The excuse was he didn’t want to mess you up, but in truth he couldn’t find any words to say.

“Look at you!” Holding up a mirror for him, you laughed at his shocked face. “How do you like it?”

“I look so flat.” Turning his head side to side, Sukuna lifted a hand to touch his face.

“Don’t touch it, you’ll mess it up!” Snatching his hand away, you held it tightly in your grasp. Sukuna was thankful for the layer of makeup he had on now, no one could see his blush.

“What’s next? This eyeshadow shit?” He picked up a product on a whim, opening it up and staring at it. “Why’s there only two colors? Why are both of them brown?”

“That’s contour, we’ll get to that! This is the eyeshadow!”

Putting eyeshadow on Sukuna was harder than both of you thought. Not used to the feeling of the brush, he twitched every time it was swiped across his eyelid. Through plenty of trial and error, and many times of you telling him to just take a deep breath, you got through it.

“I’m gonna have to cut out so much of you flinching.” You teased, checking the camera to make sure everything was still working.

“I don’t get how you can do this shit, it’s fucking awful.” All Sukuna wanted to do was rub his eyes and face until his skin went raw.

“We aren’t even at the worst part yet: eyeliner.” Taking a seat, you lifted up a simple black pen.

“Oh god.” Hanging his head, Sukuna said a quick prayer for his eyes before straightening up and taking a deep breath.

“Sukuna, I gotta ask you something.”

“What is it?” Cracking an eye open, you were looking at him with your lip caught between your teeth.

“Can I...I need to sit in your lap to do eyeliner.” Sukuna audibly and quite loudly gasped in shock, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. “When I help my friends with eyeliner I sit in their laps! It’s just easier that way!”

“I-I uhm- okay?” He eventually forced the word out, copying your movements and turning his chair to face yours. “What uh- what should I…?”

“Sit still.” Pulling your chair flush with his, you pushed Sukuna’s legs closed and scooted up his thighs until your butt was firmly seated on him. Wrapping an arm around his shoulder, you uncapped the eyeliner. “There, now I can get started.”

Sukuna was in so much shock, he didn’t move. Even when the eyeliner tickled the inner corner of his eye, even when you moved his hands to rest near your lower back so you wouldn’t slide off, even when you did the bottom lashline, he was frozen.

If this is what heaven looked like for him, he would gladly take it and never leave. Your face was so close, he could feel it even when his eyes were closed. The soft skin of your hand held his powdered cheek gently, keeping yourself steady as you drew the lines on his eyes.

“All done.” You whispered. Sukuna opened his eyes and made a noise in the back of his throat; your face was close enough that if he tried to focus too hard he’d go cross eyed. You weren’t paying attention to his reaction at all, too focused on making sure his eyes were even.

The rest of the time went by in a blur. You’d slid off his lap after that, diving right into putting more powders on his cheeks. Swiping thick gloss on his lips is what drew him out of his stupor and into another one as you once again held his chin, swiping the corner of his mouth with your thumb when you were done.

“Sukuna, you look so good!” You said with a slight whine, showing all angles of his face off to the camera before showing him. “You have to promise when you get rich and famous and become a global celebrity that you won’t forget about me.”

“Shut up, you know I won’t.” He said with a smirk, swiping the mirror from you. “(Y/N)...I look fucking hot.” Bursting into laughter, you wiped imaginary sweat off your brow.

“Well I guess I don’t have to ask how you like it!” Patting him on the back, you got up to stretch and check the camera one last time.

“Would you fuck me, ‘cause I’d fuck me.” Sukuna said to himself, striking a few poses in the mirror and for the camera. “Hey, you watching this video you better fucking share this with all your friends. Everyone needs to see how hot I am.”

“We should have ordered you some clothes, turned you into an Instagram baddie!” You teased from behind the camera.

“Please, I don’t need fancy clothes when I’m this sexy.” Running a hand through his hair, Sukuna pointed the mirror at you. “Be honest (Y/N), you wanna date me right now. I look so hot, I bet I’m gonna have thousands of DM’s.” Sukuna’s confidence was the highest it's ever been around you. For some reason, the makeup gave him more assurance.

“Well let me know when to schedule a date with you then, I’d love to grab dinner sometime.”

“I’ll have my assistant pencil you in.” He joked, looking back at himself in the mirror. Sitting back down, you ended the video and made Sukuna wave to the camera. Not turning off the lights you used to film, you made him snap several pictures with you.

“This video was so much fun, Sukuna, thank you!” Rocking back and forth in your seat, you had a demure look while you fiddled with your phone. “And I wasn’t joking about dinner. I really like you, Sukuna.” That made Sukuna stop in his tracks, nearly throwing the mirror down in shock as he turned to look at you.

“Huh?!”

“I-I mean- I mean I like hanging out with you!” Obviously embarrassed, you leaped from your seat and began turning the filming lights off, pointedly avoiding his gaze. Both yours and Sukunas faces were burning with embarrassment, awkwardly not looking at each other.

“(Y/N)...” Sukuna half stood from his chair, forcing himself to move despite how awkward he felt. “I-”

“Let’s wash off that makeup now, I bet it’s uncomfortable.” Keeping your eyes trained on the floor, you went to the door. “I’ll show you what to use in the bathroom.”

The tension in the air was thick after that, and it remained that way for a few days after. Sukuna knew what he heard, he saw how your face looked as you said you liked him, he could hear the sincerity in your voice. But it obviously wasn’t something you were ready to say, as evident as you not texting him as much as you usually did.

When the video went up, Sukuna immediately felt butterflies in his stomach all over again watching it. Reminded of how close you were to him made him ache to have you near him, and seeing you sitting on his lap had another feeling rising in his stomach, warming him up in an embarrassing way.

He patrolled the comments as usual, but there were no mean ones that he could yell at. All of them were screaming about how the video just confirms that the two of you are dating, and surprisingly they weren’t calling out him for looking like he was in love with you.

The comments teased you this time, keen longtime viewers of yours pointing out specific timestamps where you looked embarrassed or looked like you wanted to kiss him. Sukuna checked out every single one, liking the comment for showing him that what you said earlier wasn’t a mistake.

Ever since that day, it seemed like you were promoting on Instagram and Twitter a lot more. Sukuna already had notifications turned on for all your socials and there was a definite uptick in your content posted to those platforms.

There were more sponsored posts and polls posted asking your followers for style advice, and which beauty items they preferred more. Sukuna was happy to see you got an increase in brand deals from the video you did together, a video that had now easily reached five million views and counting. He congratulated you whenever he saw a sponsored post, sending you cute little emojis along with the praise.

All week you had been hinting that there was a big announcement coming, a major event in your life that you were so excited to share with everyone. Sukuna, along with all your other followers, ate up all the crumbs you left throughout the week. Many suspected you were going to go work for a designer label, while others assumed you’d announce a sudden marriage.

(Y/N): Sukuna, check Instagram!

You texted him in the evening on Friday, but he didn’t need the update. He was already on your page when the post was dropped, waiting impatiently for the picture to load.

“A TV show, huh?” As he read the promo photo, he smiled. Appearing on a TV show was a big opportunity for you, one that was sure to lead to many more. Your role wasn’t stated in the photo, but your promo picture was a professional one no doubt taken at a studio.

“Wait, what?” When Sukuna got to the caption, he took a pause. Why were you going on a dating show? He read the words over and over, hoping for a different outcome each time. But there was no denying you’d be going on a dating show.

Checking out the show's page, Sukuna let out a groan. All the male contestants were hot and not even he could deny it. Some had muscles like he did, others were more unconventionally attractive.

Sukuna: you’re going on a dating show?

It took him a while to text you back. In fact, it took nearly thirty minutes for him to text you. Sukuna had gone through all five stages of grief several times, coming back to being in denial over and over again.

Dragging his feet to his kitchen, he grabbed a bottle of wine that one of his rich clients at the gym gifted him. Popping the cork, he collapsed onto his couch and took a long drink from the bottle.

(Y/N): yeah, I’m super nervous!

Sukuna: I bet

Oh, did he fucking bet. He’d gone through all the male contestants' Instagram pages, trying to talk them down in an attempt to lessen the blow that he could potentially lose you to one of them. Why did he have to wait so long to confess to you? Now the chance was gone, possibly forever.

(Y/N): what do you think about the show? I was kind of scared to take the deal

You didn’t want to know how he really felt.

Sukuna: it’s a great opportunity, great for exposure and it’s a lot of money

(Y/N): that’s true!! I’ll have to treat you to dinner with my first TV check!

Just great, a chance for you to gush about whoever you met on the dating show. Taking another long drink from the bottle, Sukuna crumpled even more into his couch. Back were the stages of grief, each emotion washing over him until he mustered up the courage to do something about it.

“Hello?” You answered the phone, confused as to why Sukuna called you instead of replying to your messages.

“(Y/N).” Sukuna said your name firmly, honing in on a spot in the ceiling. Swallowing around a growing lump in his throat, Sukuna forced the next words out. “I like you. I-I really, really like you.”

“What?” He could hear you gasp over the phone.

“I know, what kind of asshole confesses to you when you’re about to go on a TV dating show?” He chuckled, taking a deep breath. “But it’s true. I wanna be your boyfriend, (Y/N). I know it’s too late to back out of the show but-”

“Sukuna-”

“No, let me say this. I know it’s too late to back out, and-”

“Sukuna!”

“And I don’t want to hold you back from finding someone better suited-”

“Sukuna!”

“Better suited for you than me. I’m just a dumb, muscled up chump that-”

“Sukuna I’m a stylist, not a contestant!” You were finally able to get a word in, face flushed from the sudden onslaught of emotions going through you. Sukuna was silent on the other end, mouth hanging open as he processed the words.

“Y-you’re a...a stylist? So you won’t be dating any of them?” He whispered after a few moments, the shock starting to wear off and being replaced with humiliation.

“Yeah, I’ll be on the styling team.” Your voice also dropped to a whisper, the weight of his words beginning to settle down on the both of you.

“Oh god.” Putting the bottle down, Sukuna slapped himself in the forehead. He had never felt like a bigger idiot than in this moment. “Sorry, I’m so sorry, just- just forget it.”

“No.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t want to forget it. I...I want you to be my boyfriend too, Sukuna.” There was a pregnant pause, and you could practically hear Sukuna’s brain working overdrive.

“Let’s go out on a date!” He shouted, pushing himself off the couch and to a shaky stand. “I’m free whenever, let’s go on a date!” The alcohol was definitely affecting him more than he first thought, and Sukuna fell back down onto the couch.

“Really? Okay, how about tomorrow? That’s like the only day with good weather for the rest of the week.”

“I’ll pick you up at noon.”

Sleeping restlessly through the night, Sukuna woke up way earlier than his alarm. Taking an obscene amount of time getting ready, he was still early to your house. Taking a lap around the block, he went to a flower shop and bought you a handful of flowers.

“Hi.” Your voice was soft, almost meek as you entered his car.

“Hey. I got you these.” Handing you the flowers, Sukuna bit his lip nervously.

“That’s so sweet, thank you!” Gently hugging them to your chest, your nerves began to melt away and you smiled, making Sukuna smile as well.

Sukuna once again had you pick the cafe you were going to. This one was in a bustling downtown street, not in the middle of the countryside, and as you two walked down the street there were couples passing you left and right.

Snagging an outdoor seat, Sukuna went inside to order for you. This cafe, unlike the last, actually served coffee and Sukuna was quick to get a large cup of it. Buying a few croissants cutely decorated with various creams, he went back outside.

“Say, you’re really cute, why don’t we sit and chat for a bit?” An unknown man was standing near your table, and Sukuna caught the tail end of his sentence.

“N-no, I’m good.” Your eyes were glued to your lap, obviously uncomfortable with the attention you were receiving.

“Aw, really? A pretty face like yours shouldn’t be all alone!” The man had a sleazy grin on his face, visibly eyeing you up in a salacious manner. “My name is-”

“Baby, who’s this guy?” Sukuna had had enough. Stepping right up to the table, he nearly slammed the tray in his hands down on the table. Your head shot up, relief flashing across your face.

“Who are you?” The man scoffed, curling his lip in disgust.

“I’m their boyfriend. Who the fuck are you?” Puffing up his chest a little bit, Sukuna stared the man down.

“Boyfriend? They didn’t say anything about having a boyfriend.” The man attempted to look at you again, but Sukuna beat him to it and caught your eye instead.

“Geez baby, I know we had that fight before we came but I’m hurt! If I get rid of this creep, will you call me your boyfriend again?” Laying a heavy hand on the man's shoulder, Sukuna gave it a squeeze.

“Y-you’re always gonna be my boyfriend, dummy.”

“That just warms my heart!” Sighing loudly, Sukuna gave the man a not so subtle push away from the table. “Well, you heard ‘em. Get lost, you worthless sack of shit.” Grumbling, the man walked away and Sukuna took his rightful seat next to you.

“Thank you.” Immediately, you latched onto him, squeezing his arm in a tight hug as you pressed your face into his shoulder.

“It’s okay, I’m here.” Wrapping you up more tightly in a hug, Sukuna pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I would have beat him up if you wanted. Men are fucking disgusting.”

“Sukuna, you are a man.” You laughed lightly.

“Exactly my point.” Rubbing a hand on your back, Sukuna picked up one of the croissants. “I hope you like these because I can already tell it’ll be too sweet for me.” You laughed again and sat up, keeping your face close to his.

“I have something sweet for you too, I hope you like it.”

“What is it?” Quirking a brow, Sukuna jumped when you planted your lips on his. The kiss didn’t last long and the taste of your lip balm and feel of your lips was permanently engraved into Sukunas brain.

“There.” Your cheeks were absolutely on fire, shame rolling off of you in waves at having your first kiss in a crowded cafe on a busy day in the city. It wasn’t even a particularly romantic setting, but something spurred you to do it.

“W-what the hell! You can’t just do that!” Sukuna gasped, his own cheeks burning a deep, scalding red. “You gotta warn a guy first!” His dramatics were drawing attention from the other patrons, making the situation even worse.

“Sshh, you’re being too loud!”

“Like I care! Kiss me again, I’m ready this time!” Grabbing you by the shoulders, Sukuna tried to kiss you.

“W-wait, there’s people watching!”

“I don’t give a fuck who’s watching!” Grabbing your chin, Sukuna kissed you much firmer than when you kissed him. It lasted longer as well, bordering on too long for what is accepted in public. “There.” Pulling away slightly out of breath, Sukuna sat back in his seat and took a sip of his coffee.

“You’re so embarrassing.” You whined, hiding your face in your hands and hitting Sukuna with your head.

“All I’m hearing is how great of a boyfriend I am.”

“No you’re not.” You countered, getting wrapped in a side hug by Sukuna.

“It’s debatable.” Picking up the croissant he dropped, Sukuna took a bite. “Hm, this is sweet but not as sweet as that kiss you gave me.”

“Sukuna!”

[things-we-cant-say]

pretty little liar

Pairing: Ten x Female!Reader

Summary: In order to get your annoying ex off your back, you tell a little white lie that takes an unexpected turn.

Genre: College!AU

Warnings: Smutty smut, dirty dancing

Word Count: 4,867

A/N: Unable to withstand Ten’s power any longer, I had to start writing about him…or a version of him anyway. Hope someone out there enjoys my first dip into the ~imagines~ pond. ☺️

The party was in full swing by the time you and your best friend Amy arrived, the music so loud it could be heard down the street. It was a wonder the cops hadn’t broken it up yet but hey, the night was still young. Ducking through the arched doorway with Amy hot on your heels, you let her guide you into the foyer where you both stopped to take in the scene. The place was packed with people dancing, drinking and laughing—everyone apparently having a great time. Which was perfect for you because all you wanted to do was blow off a little steam and pretend you hadn’t spent the day fantasizing about committing the perfect murder.

You enjoyed school for the most part and you enjoyed your classes, but really you couldn’t wait for it all to just be over. Two extra years and your master’s degree in linguistics was almost within your grasp. You still weren’t one hundred percent what you planned to do with it (teaching was definitely out) but either way you were ready to dive into the real world. To no longer be stressed out about exams and papers and boring ass professors that constantly seemed to have a stain on their tie.

And to get far, far away from your stupid ex, Adam.

“Uh oh you have murder face,” Amy said as she peeped around to look at you. “What’s wrong?”

You shrugged. “Just in my head I guess.”

Amy hummed. “I get it. That’s why we are here though! To get fucked up and do something we regret in the morning.”

You laughed. “Guess we’re Uber-ing home.”

She grinned and grabbed your wrist, pulling you over to a table loaded with different types of alcohol. The guy ‘tending bar’ as it were winked as you two approached. “What can I get you for?”

“Something with alcohol but where we can’t taste the alcohol!” Amy exclaimed happily. “Oh! And if you’ve got any little umbrellas I’d like one of those too.”

He did finger guns and proceeded to cook something up in two red cups, sticking in two pink umbrellas when he was done. You and Amy took your drinks and after a cursory sniff, took a sip. The tequila wasn’t as strong as with a single shot but you could still detect it just not enough to make you stop drinking. Unlike Amy you didn’t plan to get completely fucked up but you weren’t going to say no to a nice buzz.

Cups in hand you migrated onto the dance floor and fell in with everyone else, bopping to the beat and scream chatting over the loud music.

“I really needed this!” Amy yelled. “Statistics is kicking my cute little ass!”

“I know what you mean!” You shouted. “But hey! Soon we’ll be done and actual jobs will be kicking our cute little asses!”

Laughing, Amy bounced up and down, sending her blonde hair flying. “Is that why you’ve been so grumpy lately? Or is it…he who shall not be named?”

With a sigh you took a big sip of your strawberry margarita. “Yeah. He keeps fucking calling me and leaving me these stupid ass messages, apologizing and shit. I’ve blocked him but he just uses someone else’s phone.”

Amy’s eyes stretched wide. “That’s like stalker behavior! Or maybe he really is sorry for what he did.”

You snorted. “Sorry for having sex with his ex in the backseat of my car? As far as I am concerned he can take his ‘sorrys’ and shove them so far up his ass they come out his mouth as safaris!”

Amy choked a little on her drink, hitting you hard on the arm in admonishment after she stopped coughing. “I hate you! I could have died!”

Her words made you smirk. “But did you? No but for real, fuck Adam. Fuck Adam and anyone who even looks like Adam!”

“Woo!” Amy threw both hands up into the air, yelping as liquid sloshed down onto her head. “Oh shit! Drink emergency I’ll be right back!”

Before you could say anything, she turned and hurried back towards the drink table. Alone in the middle of a dancing crowd, you didn’t know whether you should slink over to a corner or just keep dancing. That last thing you wanted was some random dude trying to groove with you. Of course if you decided to hold up the wall nothing would stop some random dude from trying to hit on you either. At a bit of a loss you drained the rest of your drink and did a I don’t really know anyone two step, hoping Amy would return soon.

The tequila settled nice and warm in your stomach, making you feel more at ease. Most of the people at the party were from your school but not ones you associated with on like, a daily basis. Sure you recognized a few faces from the library or cafeteria but there was no one you’d had more than a surface conversation with.

And then your eyes landed on him. Ten.

Ten was a…different sort of person altogether. He was the kinda guy CW shows thought actually existed in college, except he was very real. And very much fucking gorgeous in that unattainable way CW shows also loved. However, that sort of did him a disservice because as far as you knew, he was just a decent guy who happened to be able to do some pretty awesome things.

For example, he was an amazing dancer. The kinda dancer that just freaking mesmerized you when he moved. Had you wondering how in the hell had he taught his body to do that shit? One minute he was in total sync with everyone else and the next he was performing his solo and blowing your mind. He’d done some show a few months ago with a friend and you’d nearly flipped out of your chair watching him work. The body rolls, the attitude, the way he’d just commanded the stage…whew. Was it possible to be a fan of someone who wasn’t famous?

Then there was his art; things he designed himself or drew from memory. Art class was essentially where you’d sorta came to be acquaintances with him. You weren’t exactly good at drawing but you liked it enough that you wanted to improve, plus it helped you de-stress after particularly hard days. Ten on the other hand excelled and just like with dancing, it was interesting to watch his process. He’d described himself as a sensory artist so he wasn’t always as concerned with the end product as the professor sometimes wanted him to be. From your eye though he’d yet to create anything that wasn’t remarkable. In fact, more than once you’d wanted to ask him to design a tattoo for you, but felt it would be kinda weird. He had no idea what you were into after all. So far your conversations with him had consisted of colors and that one time he’d asked to borrow one of your brushes.

You were pretty sure he’d sold something to an art gallery.

Anyway so Ten could dance and he could draw and he could sing and he was fluent in several languages; as far as you knew the only thing he was kind of shit at was cooking. But who hadn’t set a class kitchen on fire once or twice? Or three times…

If he were an asshole—well people would probably still crush on him—you’d count that as a major flaw and want to keep your distance. But the kicker was that he could do cool things and he was nice. Dorky even especially when it came to cute animals. Was always posting pictures of himself at the animal shelter playing with the kittens and the puppies, or just acting like an idiot with friends. Yet it was that confidence that made him seem untouchable, and also made him sexy as fuck. More than once you’d fantasized about biting his Adam’s apple.

Heh.

Shaking your head, you fanned lightly at your face with both hands. Maybe stepping outside for some fresh air would be a good idea.

“Y/N!” Amy nearly tripped over her pretty sandals in her hurry to get back to you. “Weewoo weewoo weewoo!”

“Um…”

She grabbed your shoulder. “It’s a police siren! We have a code red situation here, I repeat a code red! Adam just walked in!”

“What?” You blinked and immediately looked towards the doorway, brows narrowing when you saw she was right.

Standing there in a white t-shirt in his formerly handsome glory was your ex-boyfriend, Adam. Once upon a time you’d thought the world of him; thought he was the kinda guy you could probably marry someday. The kinda guy you’d introduced your family to. Turns out he was the kind of guy that hooked up with his ex in your car repeatedly until finally being caught in the act. Sure it had been gratifying to make him and her walk home half naked but it had done nothing to quell the pain left behind. Thankfully though your pain quickly turned to anger and now you usually focused on not murdering him when he popped up. There was a lot you could forgive but cheating was firmly in the do not cross zone. Everything you’d felt for him evaporated the moment you saw him with her.

And he’d promised he was over her. Lying piece of shit, you thought to yourself.

“What the hell is he doing here?! Does he even know anyone here?” you asked with a frown.

“I dunno!” your friend said slowly. “It’s possible, big campus and all. Do you want me to help you climb out of the bathroom window?”

“Yeah my boobs aren’t fitting through one of those skinny ass windows,” you replied wryly. “Though to be honest I’m almost willing to risk it. C’mon let’s—”

It was too late. Adam spotted you like an arrow searching for its target, eyes registering shock and then elation. He reached you in three quick strides, opening his arms for a hug that he was damned crazy to expect. “Y/N. Wow you—you look amazing. I’m so glad we ran into each other.”

You huffed. “I’m not. I told you we’re over Adam. Or does me blocking your calls not get the message across?”

He exhaled deeply. “Look I know I messed up but I’m sorry. Classes were just really tough and—and Lucy and I would reminisce about old times…”

“Do I look like I give a shit? You cheated on me and we’re over.” The lie came so easily. “Besides, I’ve moved on.”

“Yeah!” Amy poked him in the chest. “She’s moved on so suck it!”

Adam arched a brow. “You’ve moved on?” He sounded skeptical and that made your blood boil. “Since when? And with who?”

You’d once heard that Hippocrates came up with the saying drastic times call for drastic measures though it wasn’t something you’d be willing to bet money on. However, standing there with your ex eying you like he just knew you were lying brought a whole new meaning to the idiom. You would one hundred percent be damned before giving him the satisfaction of gloating.

Tequila’s kicking in…

Without missing a beat, you put a hand on your hip and motioned to Ten. “Him. I’m seeing him.”

Amy made a sound like a cat having its tail stepped on while Adam gaped at you. “What? I—no. No way. You’re totally lying. I’ve seen the people he’s dated and you’re not his type at all.”

This bitch.

Twirling on your black heels, you strolled across the room to where Ten sat in an arm chair, chatting with a few of his friends. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you straddled his lap and leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I know this is awkward as fuck—I’m so sorry—but if you just play along I will owe you big time. I’ll give you anything. You need a kidney? You can have a kidney.”

Ten’s friends had gone mute and as you sat back to gauge his reaction—or to possibly be thrown off of him—you bit your full bottom lip. His dark eyes were watching you calculatingly, his own lips pursed together like you were a riddle he needed to solve. Up close he was utterly breathtaking, all smooth skin and silky black hair that fell artfully across his forehead. He smelled incredible.

And then he spoke.

“There you are baby,” he said wrapping an arm around your waist. “I’ve been looking for you.”

That was when you figured you owed him your first born but it was fine. “Well, you found me. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

He chuckled. “You’re worth waiting for.”

His friends still looked confused though they didn’t have time to voice their opinions. Adam stalked over seconds later like a man on a mission. “So it’s true? You and Y/N are together?”

Ten tilted his head to the side and you saw the moment the lightbulb went off for him. “Yeah we’re together.”

Adam huffed. “Since when? For how long? Where did you two meet?”

Ten smirked. “Are you taking a survey or something?” He brushed his lips across your jaw, making you shiver. “The only thing that matters is that she’s mine. Let’s dance, Y/N.”

“I would love to,” you replied with a smile. You were also grateful he’d remembered your name.

You climbed off of his lap and took his hand, sending Adam a you thought look before pulling Ten out into the thick of the crowd. Your heart was beating a mile a minute but you felt too giddy to pay much attention to it. Plus, you knew Adam was watching you like a hawk and you didn’t want to let on how nervous you actually were. If he found out you were lying he’d never leave you alone and consider you pathetic to boot. Besides the nice buzz that was finally creeping down your spine told you everything would be fine. How could it not be?

Ten’s hands settled low on your hips and he gave you a little tug, pulling your back to his chest. You fit rather perfectly with him, his chin brushing the top of your head. Picking a rhythm in the song that thumped with bass, you began to move together. You rolled your ass against him and leaned your head back to rest on his shoulder, focusing on his breath as it ghosted across your neck. A silver of light wouldn’t have been able to get between you.

Normally you wouldn’t have dared to do something like this with a near stranger but your desire to make your ex suffer was bigger than your nerves. Besides Ten appeared to be all in on the ruse; his body twisting and curving in sync with yours, fingers on his right hand sliding up between your breasts to wrap lightly on your throat. His teeth nipped at your earlobe and you gasped. Reached around to his side to clasp his shirt for an anchor. You heard him chuckle and suddenly you were spun away from him only to be reeled back in, this time face to face.

The room felt like it was two hundred degrees. You weren’t exactly wearing much—a slinky black dress with tiny ties at the hem—but even that seemed too much. Without missing a beat though you and Ten continued to grind with one another, his thigh just barely pushed between your own. Every time you swayed forward to meet him the denim of his jeans rubbed deliciously against you, sending sparks sprinting through your veins. Both of his hands were on your ass as if helping to guide you, and as you met his gaze you couldn’t help but bite your lip at what you saw there. Desire, lust, hunger—no one had ever looked at you like that before. Like they could just devour you and still not have enough of you.

It made you feel powerful.

You grinned and wrapped an arm around his neck, fingers giving his hair a little tug. He hissed and lowered his head so that he could mouth at your bare shoulder, hands squeezing your ass so hard it nearly hurt. You weren’t sure when you started to get wet—maybe it was the moment you sat on his lap or he decided to play along with your dumb stunt—but you could tell it now. Your panties were sticking to you, your skin was on fire and it was becoming difficult to think straight. Honestly however you didn’t want to think at all, especially not if it meant not being in Ten’s orbit.

“Ten,” you whispered into the skin under his jaw.

He hummed, the sound vibrating through your body. You plastered your hand to his chest and pulled it down, nails catching on the thin material of his shirt until they were brushing along the zipper on his jeans. You gave him a quick squeeze—he was hard and straining—and he cursed loudly. Between one second and the next he was dragging you down a dimly light hallway, past kissing couples and one guy passed out drunk in the doorway of someone’s room. He swung you both into the first vacant room he came to; a lavish bathroom at the very back of the house. The door was closed with a swift thump and the lock clicked shut.

You licked your lips as he crowded you back into the counter, looking down at you with a tiny smirk. That part of your brain that yammered on about bad decisions was surprisingly quiet, so you figured it was beyond okay to pull him down for a kiss. As with most of the stuff he did, Ten was a damn good kisser. His mouth was soft and warm, his tongue playful and coaxing. He kissed you like he’d been waiting to kiss you for a long time. Until it grew deep and sensual. Until you were both panting with the need for air but neither wanting to let go of the moment.

With a gasp you tilted backwards a bit, your knees suddenly weak. “Fuck me,” you said absently.

“Can I?” Ten asked, chest heaving. “Can I fuck you?”

“God yes,” you replied, already pulling your dress up until it hitched around your waist.

Ten hooked his thumbs onto the band of your pink panties and slid them down your legs, laying them next to the sink. He looked you over with that same eye he used for his art but you could tell he liked what he saw. You grabbed his hand and brought it between your legs, spreading them wider for him. Two of his fingers slipped inside of you without any resistance to find you damp and aching, already so hot for him. He started a lazy rhythm—in and out, in and out—like he was in no hurry at all. Like he wasn’t driving you crazy all the way down to the tips of your toes.

He kept his eyes locked onto yours as he touched you, lips slightly parted like he couldn’t believe this was happening. That rang true for both of you. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d ever really be friends with Ten, let alone about to hook up with him. It was like you’d stumbled into some alternate universe.

Bringing his free hand up to your cheek, he smoothed his thumb across your lips, pressing lightly until you let him in. You sucked his thumb into your mouth and gave it a little nip, smiling when he smirked. When he deemed it wet enough, he pressed it to your clit and you moaned, your hips stuttering upward with a will of their own. He began a firm massage, working your clit this way and that, fingers still thrusting in their maddening motion. Of course he’d be great with his hands. Of course he’d be able to play your body like a finely tuned instrument.

Pressure started to build low in your stomach. “I—I’m…”

“Turn around.” Ten took a step back and made a show of sucking his fingers into his mouth, tongue darting out to lick between them like he wanted to savor every drop.

You whimpered but did as he requested, your eyes finding his in the wide silver mirror. You watched as he unzipped his pants and pushed them along with his dark colored briefs down to the floor. You hadn’t seen him pull out a condom but he had one; ripping open the packaging with his perfectly straight teeth before rolling it onto his hard cock. It was a delicious looking thing you had to admit, long and thick with a slight curve. If you’d had the time you would have gladly went to your knees for him.

A low breath shuddered out of Ten’s lungs as he pushed inside of you, his hands gripping your waist so strongly you were bound to have a few bruises later. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

It had been a while since Adam and nobody after him until now.

When he assumed you’d adjusted to the size of him, he pulled nearly out before driving back inside of you. You moaned and pushed back to meet his thrusts, feeling the pleasure shattering through you. Your breasts bounced as he moved and he reached a hand forward, tugging down the top of your dress so that he could cup one. He rolled your nipple between his fingers and pinched, bending over you so that he could bite down onto the tender skin of your shoulder. The motion sent him even deeper and you both groaned at the feeling.

“Te—Ten,” you stammered, losing your train of thought when he rolled his hips liked he did on the dance floor. “Oh fuck! Fuck!”

The picture you made in the mirror was a very erotic one; you could see every single expression on Ten’s handsome face. The utter enjoyment he was obviously finding in fucking you was written all over it; there was nowhere for it to hide. His head was tipped back, eyes fluttering closed only to pop back open so that he could watch himself shove into you over and over again. He had you up on your tip toes, nose just an inch from the mirror itself. He was always sexy but tonight that word took on a whole new meaning.

All you could do was try to give as good as you got.

You slapped a hand onto the sink to steady yourself and clenched around him, reveling in the low whine that escaped his throat. It kinda sounded like your name.

And then he was pulling all the way out, dick bouncing as he stumbled backwards. You blinked in confusion. “Wh--what’s wrong?”

Ten ran his fingers through his hair. “C’mon. I want you to ride me.”

He sat down on the closed toilet seat lid and you straddled him without a second thought, sinking down onto his dick with a full body shudder. With your dress around your waist and your breasts jiggling in his face as you bounced up and down on his cock, he traced his tongue around your nipple before lightly biting down. You tangled your fingers in his hair and panted out his name, letting out a squeak when his palm connected with your ass for a hard slap. Planting his feet on the floor, he leaned you backwards a bit as he drove into you repeatedly, eyes watching how well your pussy took him.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured against your collarbone. “Gorgeous—you feel so good.” He bit you again, this time on the side of your neck. “So good.”

With one hand on his shoulder to brace yourself, you rose up and let yourself come down hard over and over again, feeling him pound so deep it was almost criminal. Had the music not been so loud you knew exactly what you would have heard; the sound of skin hitting skin as Ten fucked you like he owned you. Just for tonight, maybe he did.

You weren’t sure how long it went on but when you came it still managed to take you by surprise. Your body lit up like a Christmas tree from the inside out and you cried out Ten’s name, clenching around him, your nails digging into his shoulder blades. He muttered a drawn out fuuuuck and pinched your clit with this thumb and forefinger, making you jerk so hard you nearly tumbled off his lap.

“Ah! Ten!” You shouted as he kept it up. “I—no—oh god—”

Your pussy tightened around him again and he shivered, thrusts growing erratic as he came with a grunt. You trembled through a second orgasm almost in disbelief—usually the only thing that could get you off twice in a row was hidden under your bed in a shoe box.

Seconds later you flopped against him, attempting to catch your breath. He was still rolling his hips just a tiny bit, making all the too sensitive areas ping.

“Whoa,” he said breathlessly, wrapping both arms around your waist. “That was…”

You chuckled softly. “Yeah…” Chancing a look at him, you admired the way strands of his dark hair stuck to his sweaty forehead. He was glistening, shirt sticking to his chest. He smelled like hints of your perfume and you smelled like hints of his cologne. It was all so intimate.

Reluctantly you sat back and gazed at him, wondering if things were about to get awkward. But Ten just smiled and ducked his head a little, a barely there blush creeping up into his already flushed cheeks. It was so adorable you couldn’t have resisted kissing him if you tried. From the way he melted into you, he’d had the same idea.

After a few minutes of just enjoying the feel of his lips against yours, you forced yourself up off of him. Your legs shook; you had to grab the counter to keep from tripping in your heels. You could already tell you’d still feel him tomorrow and the thought made you kinda dizzy, but in a good way. Blinking at your reflection—your hair was a dark mess—you knew there was no way you’d be able to hide the love bites that adorned your skin. They stood out stark red and purple like a bruise.

Ten remained slouched on the toilet for a couple of moments before removing the condom and tossing it into the trash. He dabbed at his dick with a handful of toilet paper, and then pulled up his underwear and jeans. “So…can I ask you something?”

You fixed your dress. “Sure.”

“Who was that guy?” he inquired with a grin. “The one you obviously wanted to get away from.”

Oh shit you’d forgotten all about Adam! “Oh he—he’s my dumb ex. He jumped stupid at me and I—I wanted to show him that he’s an idiot. That I’m totally over him. I—I’m sorry for getting you involved.”

He laughed as he patted down his hair. “No complaints from my end. I think he got the message though.” Reaching behind you he handed you your panties. “Don’t wanna forget these.”

It was ridiculous to be embarrassed considering what you’d both just done, but you couldn’t help it. You took them from him and pulled them on, keeping your eyes on the ground. “Thanks… Look Ten—”

“I’m hungry,” he said interrupting you. “Have you ever had grilled dried pollack?”

“Um yeah once I think,” you replied uncertainly. “It was pretty tasty.”

Ten motioned behind him. “I know a place that makes it if you wanted to go. And…maybe afterwards we could just hang out. Talk.”

That sounded amazing. “I’d love to. But…”

He picked up on your meaning. “Y/N I sit next to you in all of our art classes. I make conversation with you for no reason. Do you really think I of all people forget my brushes? Honestly I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while but you’ve always seemed…disinterested.”

You were dumbstruck by his admission. “Me?! That’s just my face! You’re the unattainable ingénue or whatever!”

Ten chuckled, folding his arms across his chest. “Oh please the only thing standing between me and being a serious cat dad is having an apartment that allows animals. However, this conversation is pointless. You owe me and I’m collecting…if that’s okay?”

You huffed but couldn’t stop grinning. “It’s perfect.”

The walk from the bathroom to the living room had everyone staring with a few people letting out loud whistles. Adam had disappeared but Amy was there to give you a big thumbs up. You promised to call her later and then let Ten pull you outside into the warm night air, your fingers happily entwined with his.

[janetbrown711]

Can we get a one-shot between yakko and max at the party? Please

Parties.

Yakko remembered those, though they were far and few between. Angelina wasn't necessarily one to celebrate often, but his parents told them tales of celebrations in the past. Singing, dancing, laughing, falling in love, it sounded exciting.

Well- okay, Yakko had technically been to parties before. However, they always lacked the spirit and energy and- well... fun his parents described them with. His grandmother's parties were stiff and uncomfortable, and usually without his siblings.

However, his mother's coronation party was the complete opposite of that. There was music- fiddles and the like- the kind of music that made you want to dance and brought smiles to faces the second the hair touched the strings. There was dancing, real dancing, the fun kind with stomping and twirling that made people lose their breath without even minding because of how fun it was. There was food, there was art, there was singing, there were people- tons of them.

There was a prince.

Yakko hadn't seen him before.

He was a dog- likely no older than Yakko himself. He looked like he was trying to have a good time, but the outfit he was put into was clearly not meant for this level of activity. His hair was messy, with a crown crooked on his head. His eyes were dark like a smoky quartz, and they were looking around the room, attempting to calm an anxiety within (Yakko could relate to that).

The prince made eye contact with Yakko.

Yakko looked back.

"Yakko! Who're ya looking at?" Wakko appeared out of the blue, tugging on Yakko's sleeve and snapping him out of the trance.

"N-no one," He lied. It wasn't like he knew who he was, though he was a prince and most certainly not a nobody.

"But you were looking at someone, telllll meeeee," Wakko tugged on his sleeve.

"Weren't you drawing with chalk?" Yakko huffed.

"Yeah, but you were making heart eyes and I wanted to see," Wakko crossed his arms, huffing right back.

"I-i wasn't actually making heart eyes, right?" Yakko panicked. Wakko and Dot giggled.

"No, but you looked really silly," She grinned cheekily. Yakko rolled his eyes.

"You should talk to him," Dot said, pointing to the prince.

"Put your arm down, it's rude to point," He put her arm down for her, embarrassed. Dot giggled more.

"Talk to him or else we will," She smirked.

"Nope- uh- that's alright, I can talk to him," Yakko quickly said, already making his way to the mysterious prince, Wakko and Dot watching a bit from behind, before Yakko gave them a look and they (wisely) scattered.

Yakko was about halfway there when he realized he had no idea what on earth he was supposed to say to him. He hadn't interacted with someone his age since- well... ever. Much less someone who made him feel like this.

He should've prepared more. He had read many books on romance and even just social interaction. He had read numerous social interactions, both good and bad, and yet his mind was blank as to what to say.

Well, it looked like he was going to have to improvise because before he knew it, his feet had dragged him over and he was right beside the prince, with just enough distance not to be noticed by him yet.

"Okay Yakko, you get one shot," He whispered to himself in preparation. God- he hadn't felt this nervous in a while.

"So... you... come here often?" He asked. The prince turned and looked at him, slightly startled.

"A-aren't you the crown prince?" He asked, his face flushing slightly.

"Oh my god- that was a terrible introduction," Yakko facepalmed. To his surprise, this made the prince laugh.

"It's cool, I-i can get nervous too," He said.

"Sorry, yeah. Can I- uh, start over?" Yakko asked, laughing nervously.

"Okay," The other prince laughed too, which made Yakko's heart flutter a bit.

"My name is Yakko Warner of- well- Warnernstock, but I think you figured that out," Yakko held his hand out.

"I'm Prince Max Goof of Disneyland," Max said, shaking it.

"Disneyland, huh? that's not too far away," Yakko said.

"We border Warnstock, though the castle is right in the middle of the country so it did take a few hours," Max nodded to himself.

"Sooo... what's it like there?" Yakko asked, internally cringing at just how terrible this conversation was. He usually loved talking- why was he so bad at it now?

"It's- uh- well- it's interesting," Max said, scratching the back of his neck. "My dad works with my uncles Mickey and Donald in running the kingdom, and we technically have a really big family that can get pretty overwhelming at times," He explained. "Used to be more, but Mom died when I was born and Uncle Oswald died in a war when I was 5."

"I thought my mom was dead for awhile, so I kinda relate," Yakko said.

"Your grandma is dead too, right?" Max asked.

"Yeah, but that's not a bad thing," Yakko said, just now realizing that the conversation took an odd turn.

"Don't doubt that, from what I've heard," Max laughed, which made Yakko relax.

Maybe this wasn't going terribly.

"But yeah, it's interesting there. What's it like over here in Warnerstock? It's my first time," Max asked.

"It's chaotic too. My grandma-" Yakko paused, not really sure how much he wanted to share. He had just met Max, he didn't want to scare him away this early.

"My grandma was... a piece of work, but my parents are pretty cool," Yakko said, scanning around for them, and finding them on the dance floor happy as can be.

"And I have two younger siblings, so that's... fun," He added, suddenly becoming aware of just how weird and... deeply wrong his life had been up to this point.

"Oh yeah, I think I've seen them around. I think your brother tried drawing chalk around where I was standing so I tried to move but he wouldn't let me till he was finished," Max recalled.

"Sorry- they can be a real handful," Yakko blushed, embarrassed.

"Yeah, Dot and Wakko can stir up a lot of chaos," Yakko tried to say so with a happy, fond look at their mischief, but instead memories of the times it got them in serious trouble flooded his mind, and he frowned.

"Are you- uh- okay?" Max asked.

"I'm... fine. I'm fine," Yakko shook his head, forcing the memories down. "I'm sorry, I just... it's been a lot lately."

"I can believe that, from what I've heard," Max nodded, his eyes soft and sympathetic. Yakko could only nod.

"But hey, at least things are looking up now, huh?" The foreign prince did his best to lift his spirits.

"That is one way to look at it," Yakko agreed, forcing down the knotted feeling in his stomach.

There was a pause, neither prince knowing what to say, each unsure of their emotions, or where to go next in their conversation.

"So... what's your family like?" Yakko asked, sticking his hands in his pockets.

"My dad is... well, he's something alright," Max looked away, embarrassed.

"What do you mean?" Yakko raised an eyebrow.

"He's- well... Goofy. That's his name," Max shrugged. "Though my uncles are pretty cool, though they aren't my uncles in the literal sense," He quickly shifted the subject.

"That must be cool. Both of my parents were only children," Yakko didn't push.

"Yeah. But that doesn't mean it's all great, I'm still an only child. I'm sure it's great to have some siblings around," Max said.

"They do keep things interesting," Yakko snorted, looking through the crowd, finding them spying on him yet again. He shot them another look, and the two scattered.

"But I don't know anyone my own age really, and at times I've felt more like a parent than a sibling," Yakko admitted, though he didn't know why.

"I don't know anyone my own age really either," Max said.

"But... I could know you, if you want," He offered. Yakko looked at him, and found he was blushing and looking away.

"I wouldn't mind that," He said, a small smile growing on his face. Max looked at him and smiled back, the fluttering feeling returning.

"You're really-..." Cute? Pretty? Handsome? Yakko knew a thousand words but he had no idea how to describe Max's appearance, especially in a way that made sense.

"Cool?" Max seemed to know his plight.

"Yes! Cool," Yakko snapped his fingers, which made Max laugh.

"You're... cool," He said.

"Thanks," Max punched his arm lightly. "You're cool too."

Another pause. Yakko was becoming increasingly aware that he simply had no idea how on earth to talk to anyone who wasn't a family member. He had no idea what normal things for people like Max were.

Yakko realized he had no idea how to be a kid.

"Do you wanna dance?" Max asked, snapping him out of the train of thought.

"O-oh, uh- I'm a terrible dancer, I couldn't possibly-" Yakko made excuses as his eyes went to the dance floor, where he discovered his parents were watching him too. They both had goofy grins on their faces and gave him a big thumbs up and Yakko's face turned bright red.

"Oh I'm a terrible dancer too, I just figured it'd be fun. I've been observing them long enough, I think I figured it out," Max said.

"Well I guess if you really want, we can be terrible together," Yakko couldn't look him in the eyes, his face still as red as a tomato.

"I-i mean if you don't want to..." Max put his hands in his pockets.

"No, it- it'll be fun. Let's do it," Yakko shook away the flustered feeling, holding his hand out for Max. Max took it.

"I'm not joking when I say I'm a terrible dancer though. I once had to dance with a lady and I nearly tore her dress because I kept stepping on it," Max admitted sheepishly as Yakko took him towards where the people were dancing.

"Well lucky for you, I'm no lady and have no dress to tear," He said, surprised at his sudden wit. Good- maybe that meant he stop embarrassing himself and have a good conversation.

"Y-yeah," Max said. God- he was just so-... so-

Yakko was starting to get annoyed at his suddenly small vocabulary.

"I think I actually know this dance. I'll wait for an opening and then you can follow my lead," Yakko told him.

"Ok-okay, if that's what you want then-" Max couldn't finish his sentence before Yakko found an opening and before he knew it, they were pulled into a dance.

Yakko was thankful he actually paid attention to the book on dances and read the full thing, because while his grandmother had only wanted him to read the formal, ballroom dances, he read the whole thing through and found the town dance section and now knew what he was doing. A luck Max clearly didn't have, but that almost made it more fun. He had only just met Max, but it was clear Max trusted and liked him to some extent, and Yakko felt the same. There was just something about him Yakko couldn't describe.

"Relax, it's all fun," Yakko said to him, and Max loosened up a bit, making the movement a lot easier. Soon, the speed picked up, and the stomps and jumps intensified and the rest of the world just melted away, as all the boys were focused on were each other. Sure, there were a few times that they stepped on each other's feet or they were off from everyone else, but they just laughed it off and continued having fun.

Fun.

Despite how much Yakko embarrassed himself, he was having fun.

Hell- this was probably the most fun he had ever had in his whole life. All of his previous stress and anxieties melted away- this was fun.

Max was fun.

Yakko really, really liked him.

Eventually, after a long while of dancing, the song came to an end, and Yakko and Max were left panting as they stood close to each other. For a moment they looked into each other's eyes, before realizing where they were and both taking a step back.

"Well that was- well-" Max really wasn't one for words, was he?

"It was fun," Yakko said for him. The foreign prince nodded.

"It was fun," He grinned a little.

"You totally lied to me though, you're a good dancer," Max punched his arm again. Yakko laughed.

"I meant more like- ballroom stuff. I'm so terrible at ballroom dancing, my grandmother basically banned me from dancing," He snorted.

"I've basically banned myself- I dance a lot like my dad... usually," Max said. Yakko had never met Goofy, but from the name alone he could get a pretty good picture.

"Don't sell yourself short, you were pretty good," Yakko encouraged as they began to walk back to their previous place.

"Yeah... well... thanks," Max said. "I..." He stopped to think about his words.

"I don't have a lot of friends... especially those my age. People usually find me- well- awkward and weird and... like my dad, basically. But you're... you're cool," He managed to say.

God, Yakko could relate to that.

"You're cool too," Yakko said, looking him in the eyes.

They stood in an entranced silence for a little while, before they heard the music start up again, and they watched the dancers for a while.

"So... what do you like to do? Got any... hobbies?" Max asked.

"I read and study a lot," Yakko shrugged.

"You like studying?" Max genuinely questioned.

Yakko thought about that. "I mean... I think so? I don't know... I guess I just do it a lot."

"Ah," was all Max could really say to that.

Stupid trauma.

"What about you?" Yakko switched the conversation.

"I like doing sports, they're one of my bigger strengths," Max replied.

"That makes one of us- I'm pretty sure no one can be less pathetic than me," He snorted. "Even my seven-year-old sister is better at sword fighting than me."

"And it's not like I don't have the genes or anything- my dad's a knight for crying out loud, I don't know why I have a bad case of noodle arms," Yakko joked, which made Max laugh.

"You don't have to be physically strong, being smart is equally as good," he said.

"Until you have to protect people," Yakko thought to himself.

"Yeah," He said aloud.

Stupid, stupid trauma.

"Besides, I could try and give pointers if you wanted," Max said. That snapped Yakko out of those thoughts in an instant.

"P-pointers? When would we do that?" He asked. Max shrugged.

"I dunno. But what I do know is that you can visit my kingdom anytime, uncle Mickey and my dad love guests," He invited.

"Is... is that normal?" Yakko asked. Max blinked.

"Yeah? Did- have you never had any guests at your castle?" He asked, trying his best not to sound weirded out.

"Outside of the occasional ambassador and ball, no," Yakko admitted.

"Well, then I guess you'll definitely have to come over sometime," Max said.

"Yeah... I guess I will," Yakko managed to smile.

Suddenly, it dawned on Yakko how late it was becoming. The crowds grew smaller and smaller, as the sun had set hours ago. He looked around and saw someone wearing the emblem of Disneyland who looked like they were watching over Max sitting and possibly waiting for them to be done so he could take him home. Yakko frowned.

"You have to go now, don't you?" Yakko asked. Max looked at the man Yakko had noticed. He sighed.

"It is really late... don't get me wrong though- this was easily the most fun I've had in a long, long time," Max said. "I just- I have to go home eventually."

"No, trust me, i get it," Yakko smiled softly at him. Max returned the look.

"I'll... I'll see you again though, right? You'll stop by my castle?" He asked.

"Of course," Yakko nodded seriously.

The man across the way seemed to take notice of the lack of conversation, making his way towards the pair. Yakko sighed.

"I'll see you later then," He said.

"Yeah, see you," Max didn't know what to do so he punched his arm lightly before waving and going with the guard.

"See you..." Yakko said to himself, watching him go.

Max sure was something...

"Did you have fun tonight?" A voice from behind startled Yakko.

"Oh mom- it's just you," He relaxed. "Yeah- I did."

"Your siblings are both practically asleep, not that I'm surprised," Lena chuckled. Yakko scanned the area for them and found them both curled up by the bonfire. He snorted.

"That's Wakko and Dot alright: boundless energy until they crash," He said. Lena nodded.

"Who was that prince?" His mother asked with a slight smirk. Yakko blushed.

"His name is Max, he's from Disneyland," He said.

"Disneyland... I haven't heard from them in a long time," Lena thought out loud.

"Well, he seems to really like you," She looked back at him.

"He's cool," Yakko shrugged.

"Just 'cool?'" Lena teased. Yakko gave her a weird look. Lena laughed.

"Never mind, you'll figure it all out in due time," She wrapped an arm around him as they began walking back inside.

"What about Wakko and Dot?" Yakko asked, looking back at them.

"Your father will carry them to bed, they'll be fine," Lena said. Yakko nodded to himself.

"So... Max, hm? Do you want to see him again?" She asked.

"Can I?" He asked. Lena chuckled.

"Of course, it's been so long since I've spoken to them, and now that I'm queen, a visit or two isn't beyond reason," Lena said.

"Oh right, you are the queen," Yakko realized.

"Strange, right?" She joked.

It was strange, to think of his grandmother in the past tense. She was queen. His mother is queen.

"Yep," He said, before sighing.

"I think I'm gonna go to bed," he said.

"After all that, I bet. Goodnight darling," Lena gave him a hug, which he quickly returned before going back inside without her.

So this was what it was like to be a normal kid... well- attempting to be a normal kid, anyway. Parties, fun, making friends, butterflies...

Yakko was going to have to do a lot more studying this next while to see if he could get a grasp on what it was exactly he felt for Max, otherwise, he was certain he was going to go mad.

Still, despite the emotional swirl in his chest, he knew he had a good time. Max was cool and Yakko liked being around him-- that much he couldn't deny.

Yakko couldn't wait to see him again.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 The End

[ivyaugustetc]

the dead poets at hogwarts: a headcanon from hell

@aedan-mills @charlie-dalton-simp @pretentious-strikes YOU ENCOURAGED THIS BEHAVIOR SO YOU'RE GONNA HAVE TO LIVE WITH THE CONSEQUENCES. also i love you a lot but THAT'S BESIDE THE POINT.

also @aedan-mills i found out that some of the wand stuff is related to their birthdays and i am much too lazy to look all that up and figure it all out, but anyone else is welcome to lmao. sorry to disappoint but alas it's summer and i don't want to research that much. but other than that, please listen to me flex my extensive knowledge on harry potter :)

neil (half blood): i'm sorry,,,, can you say gryffindor? this boy would get up there and in a second the sorting hat would have him all figured out: big dreams with the will to pursue them, but not ambitious enough to step over others to achieve said dreams? sounds like a gryffindor to me. i just know he'd thrive at hogwarts, probably going on to play quidditch (def a chaser) and would excel in charms class. as far as pets go, i feel like he'd stay simple and classy with a chill barn owl he'd name after a famous broadway actor. he would kind of be a mix of james and remus, in which he's wild and crazy but still manages to get good grades. the teachers love him simply because they don't know much about him outside of class. he would absolutely LOVE going to hogsmeade and going batshit crazy at zonko's and honeydukes. he'd have a whole phase where he gets addicted to licorice wands and everyone else thinks they're disgusting but he simply cannot buy enough of them. he'd play a bunch of zonko tricks on the rest of the poets, saving the most harsh for charlie and the most wholesome for todd <3

todd (muggle born): ugh see i can see him being both a hufflepuff and a ravenclaw, but my heart says hufflepuff so i'm gonna go with that. he would absolutely HATE the sorting ceremony with a burning passion. getting up in front of everybody only to have a hat judge u??? no thanks. HAHAHA CAN YOU IMAGINE HIM ON A BROOM. i can't either because he would simply never get on one, probably referring to them as "flying death traps" more often than not. "hey todd, you think about joining quidditch?" "no thanks, i'd rather keep my limbs intact ;)". but he would love muggle studies a lot, even if the teacher was boring as hell. snape would scare the hell out of him for sure, resulting in his lowest class being potions. he would excel in classes that are more learning out of the book rather than in practice. for a pet, he'd want something that could not possibly turn on him and would just be sweet and loving, so ima give him a toad :) he'd name it something fancy and british, like nigel or sumn. and because of nigel, he'd love chocolate frogs because hey they're twins!!

fanon knox (pure blood): hogwarts fuck boy. okay well maybe not f boy but like...his favorite part is the fact that this is a co-ed school rather than an all-boys school so he can spy on both genders equally yknow. hmm i get hufflepuff vibes from him because he's a big romantic, sucker for cute relationships, etc. he would enjoy whichever class his current crush is in, although I feel like he'd do well with classes that involved spells and wand work mostly lmao. he'd want a really fucking cute pet, so i'd give him a kneazle (it's like a cat but a bit more lion like). he'd give it a strong sounding name, something german idk. but he'd love the shit out of that kneazle, i can tell you that much. i feel like he'd try out for quidditch his first few years, not make it on, and then make it on to the team around fourth year and somehow end up team captain in seventh (and that proves kids, that you too can have a redemption arc in sports). as far as candy goes, ima say he likes the super sour candy like acid pops n shit. like i feel like the others would dare him to each as much sour candy as he can and then he wouldn't be able to taste for a week. but he'd think it was worth it :)

cameron (muggle born): good god this boy just wants to learn. magic just fascinates him, what with growing up in a big muggle family (bestie he is the weasleys if they were all type a). he's a ravenclaw, no questions asked. he would love classes involving preciseness and attention, things like potions and transfiguration. i feel like he'd have a cute, stable relationship along the way ofc because he deserves so much love and happiness and UGH he's a baby. he'd stick with a lil ginger cat, naming it after one of the famous wizards he's read about. he would love spending christmas at the school and going places when the ground are nearly empty, enjoying the scenery. for candy, he'd go plain and simple with chocolate frogs. can't go wrong with those. he'd still have fun with his friends, but he'd skip a lot of parties for some studying (don't judge, i do it too lmao). would not play quidditch but would enjoy it, end of story.

charlie (pure blood): slytherin. don't dispute it. think the weasley twins but even more flirtatious. he would be a regular at every single party that happened, flirting with the guys and gals shamelessly and drinking butterbeer like it was water. look me in the eye and tell me he would not absolutely fucking HATE GILDEROY LOCKHART WITH EVER FIBER OF HIS BEING. he'd do spot-on impersonations of him though. teacher's worst enemy. like when he walks into class on the first day, every teacher collectively mutters "bloody hell not this kid again". asks the most incredibly stupid questions ("okay but is there a spell to turn my eyebrows green? just the eyebrows though, not my hair"). he would be the most aggressive beater on the slytherin team, though he would never deliberately try to hit someone, just distract the shit out of them ("put the fear of god in them and fate will do the rest"). he'd want a loud, aggressive pet but he'd probably end up with a mean cat that hisses at everyone. he'd give it the most adorable name that just. does not fit the personality. something like priscilla. for candy, he'd take his chance with bertie botts' every flavour beans and just roll with the punches. he's chaotic like that.

pitts (half blood): ASTRONOMY IS HIS JAM. he fucking loves that class. he tutors the entire ravenclaw house in that class. he's the guy that little first years who are terrified of the class go to when they're completely lost and don't understand what's going on. besides that, i feel like he'd just be everyone's cool older brother yknow? like he'd be in charge of helping all the first years figure out where stuff is and giving them advice to help them and stuff. he would be a die-hard quidditch fan although he would not play the sport (maybe recreationally on the weekends and holidays and stuff, but the fact that it's so fucking dangerous just does not appeal to him). he'd like the candy that does tricks and stuff, like fizzing whizbees and stuff. he gives me charlie weasley vibes, where he's hardcore in certain areas (in his case, astronomy) and just flipping chill in anything else. cool older brother vibes, man. it fits.

meeks (half blood): i've said it once and i'll say it again: nonproblematic ginger dumbledore. also a hufflepuff <3 this dude just wants to fucking coast along, getting good grades and not participating in the dumb shit that could probably get him killed (even though he would in a heartbeat if his friends were in danger. duh). he'd be a teacher's favorite, probably having conversations with his favorite teachers during free time. okay ik this isn't technically at school, but i swear to god he would be dumbledore one day. like he would be the chill ass headmaster who gets shit done while also being very la di da life is nice flowers are pretty type of person. that being said, his favorite candy is and has been lemon drops ever since dumbledore got him addicted to them. his favorite classes would be potions (he'd surprisingly get along well with snape) and he'd just be great and mixing shit right and just knowing how much of stuff to add in ("how much powdered root do i add?" "about three and a half shakes." "that's not a measurement, meeks." "*shrug* it works"). he'd stick with his small friend group and love them to death, but he'd be a friend to all really. he'll help anyone that comes to him asking for help with homework (and though he won't admit it, he gets super prideful when it's someone a few years ahead of him).

stick (muggle born): harry potter if harry potter could've been more harry potter. like he would just be a part of everything and end up being part of some prophecy that demands he'd save the world and at first he'd be like HEY i'm just a small boy but then he'd grit his teeth and finesse the shit out of this preventing the end of days stuff. he'd definitely be a gryffindor, and fucking proud of it. he'd be the seeker on the quidditch team because he is so short and small and yeah he'd fucking kill it there. he'd kind of be the shy one no one expected much from, but once he starts absolutely wrecking the shit out of the other houses' quidditch teams, he'd become sorta popular? like people would invite him to parties and stuff and he's too nice to say no, but he'd mostly just hang around the outskirts, saying hi to the other poets if he saw them and mostly talking to chris and ginny (danburry, not weasley). he'd like defense against the dark arts and minerva mcgongiall would become his literal mother i can't explain it. he'd have an owl as a pet and treat it like it was his own child, telling it thank you every time it brought his mail or took his mail. as for candy, he'd like drooble's bubble gum because the bubbles are all magic and shit and i just feel like that would make him so happy <3

chris (pure blood): the older sister lesbian <3 she'd be a sweet hufflepuff who would be friends with everyone while also being the greatest socialite the school has ever seen. you know that party that practically the entire school attended and talked about for months on end? she planned that shit. she'd be like pitts in the respect that she'd help all the first years find their way in the school and in life in general. she's just such a warm and kind person that everyone would love her. she's have a little pink pygmy puff to match ginny's purple one, and she'd give it such a perfect, human name like lila or something. she'd be great at muggle studies and all the teachers would love her. also every one is so invested in her relationship with ginny it's adorable. he favorite candy is acid pops even though they make her eyes water like crazy. she'd make pretty good grades, every once in a while getting one slightly lower than she'd expected, but she always manages to bring them up to her satisfactory level :) she would not play quidditch, but she would go all out to support ginny, even though they're in different houses. that's what i call love, baby.

ginny (half blood): the mom lesbian <3 she's a ravenclaw and also one of the sweetest people in the whole school. while chris helps other with the social aspect, ginny will help anyone in any subject they need help with (she and meeks are a help duo on this). she's quieter and less social than chris, but she's one of the best chasers the ravenclaw quidditch team has ever seen. she'd end up team captain by fifth of sixth year. she'd be like oliver wood in that she is sO invested in the team's success that at sometimes she'll go a bit crazy, but chris is always there to help her put things back into perspective <3. she'd make stellar grades of course, being good friends with all of her teachers. her favorite candy would be the sweetest things like fairy floss. as previously stated, she'd have a purple pygmy puff to match chris's pink one, and she'd also give it an adorable human name like lisa or something. ginny's just sweet to everyone, especially neil and his friends.

I DID IT. IT TOOK FOREVER AND A FEW HAIL MARYS BUT I DID IT. enjoy besties <3 love u all

[enviedear]

secrets that you keep → peter parker

DESCRIPTION ⌙ in a consolation trip back to europe, the kids of midtown high are eager to have a normal vacation, finally. but you on the other hand are on a mission. something weird is going on with peter parker, and you’re going to figure it out.

PAIRING ⌙ peter parker x fem!reader

WORD COUNT ⌙ 2.4k

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“-smaller group than before, but we’ll still have fun guys. the tour company has made precautions for you kids. there will not be a repeat of last year.” mr. harrington babbles.

you sink lower into the bus seat. you did not want to be back in europe. truthfully you want to be anywhere but here. wherever, here, was. no one knew. cell service went out about five miles back and the bus driver didn’t speak english. 

“yeah guys, don’t worry. this trip is going to be ten times worse than the last. it’s already started bad since we don't know where we ARE!” flash yells, running a hand down his face.

mr. harrington tries to calm him and the rest of the bus down, to no avail.

you block out the commotion and stare out of the bus window. grass, farm, cattle, shack, more grass, more farm. and not one single cell tower in sight. this is it, you think, this is how it ends, stranded in a foreign country with the most annoying people you’ve ever known.

“guys, GUYS! my service is back,” betty yelps. “it says we’re in wiveliscombe, and that it’s going to be three hours until we reach london.”

her words are met with groans.

“at least we have cell service now.” jokes peter parker, who’s sat in the seat across the aisle from you. he’s cute and nice, but weird. last year’s trip he had about a thousand excuses as to why he’d leave the group and if it happened this year, you were gonna figure out why. no matter what it took.

“mhm, and since we have access to the endless possibilities of the internet again, we don’t have to talk..” you huff.

“i.. sorry. i didn’t-” you cut him off by placing your earbuds back into your ears and turning the volume up. 

something about peter irked your nerves in a way you couldn’t understand. maybe it was the way he knew fucking everything. maybe it was the way his body became incomprehensibly fit in such a short period of time. you really couldn’t understand that. even went as far as to do research on steroids, but found there was no way he could be using those. most probably it was the nonsense of his idiotic excuses. he might be able to fool everyone else, but not you. you knew there had to be something going on.

he and his stupid cute little brown curls, button nose, and six pack were under your firm watch.

by the time the bus reached the hotel the sun was beginning to set. jet lagged and in need of a long shower, you’re one of the first to fly into the hotel.

“It's me and you for the next week.” mj smiles, holding out a room key for you. truthfully, you really liked mj. she was cool and liked a lot of the same things as you. but she had one fatal flaw in your eyes, she used to date peter parker.

it was a short lived relationship, almost everyone saw it as a fling. peter and mj were just… too different. but they remain close friends.

it’s not like you were jealous... just, a tad bit jealous. besides, that ship had sailed and your goal wasn’t to end up like mj on the last trip to europe. no, you had other plans.

“cool. we can watch murder mysteries tonight and grab some snack from the convenience store down the street.” you grin.

the rooming situation for everyone else took entirely too long. it started with flash being upset that his room requirements weren’t being met. he wanted nothing to do with a roommate. this, caused his previous roommate, zander, to object to rooming with someone so, ‘coddled’.

took a full twenty minutes to resolve the issue. 

“mj, you still wanna visit the national gallery tomorrow?” asks the one and only peter parker.

“uh, yeah. y/n, wanna join?” she questions.

you were ready to object, finding it far more intriguing to stay in and sleep but then you remembered your little mission. if you wanted to figure out what peter parker’s deal was, you’d have to be around him. 

“sure. nothing better to do.” you shrug, peering straight into peter’s eyes. 

“i, uh- i thought we’d get an early start to the day. ned wants to go on the jack the ripper tour, so that gives us until one to look through the museum.” peter rambles.

“alright, me and y/n will meet you two down here around ten thirty.” mj clarifies.

“see you then. night mj,” he looks to you. “goodnight y/n.”

you narrow your eyes at him, “sleep tight parker. busy day tomorrow.”

with that you and mj enter your room, ready to sleep off the jet lag. and soon enough, sleep carries you into her open arms, preparing you for the day ahead.

the next morning consists of peter and ned rushing in and out of their room. the duo forgetting nearly everything they needed for the day. it was extremely annoying. but you’d take watching the two ninnies scramble about over this tour you’re forcing yourself to get through right now.

the national gallery was proving to be a bore. maybe it was you. or maybe it was the dull ass tour guide. either way, you’re finding it hard to focus on any of these artworks around you.

“this is the arnolfini portrait. it’s the work of jan van eyck and it is believed to depict an italian merchant named giovanni di nicolao arnolfini. this painting has remained in the national gallery since 1843.” the tour guide drones.

you peer up at the art, searching for anything to interest you about it. you try to focus of the dark green of the woman’s dress, then the small dog, but nothing about this art is appealing to you. instead, you find the whispered conversation going on behind you to be much more intriguing.

“ned how am i going to make it all the way to japan and back here before the ripper tour?” peter grumbles.

japan?

“i don’t know, but i really don’t want to go on a tour of the most infamous and creepy serial killers of all time without my best friend.” ned whispers.

“but mj will be there, and.. y/n.” peter assures.

“great. they both creep me out. that’s like, two extra loads of creepy added onto the already creepy tour.” ned huffs.

“dude, i have to go… mr. stark is waiting on me.” peter pleads.

you hear ned give an annoyed, “fine.”

you wait a few seconds before turning around to face peter’s friend.

“where did peter run off to?” you ask, as innocently as you can.

“uhhhh- the bathroom. the uh, hotel bathroom. yeah, must have been those tomatoes he ate with his breakfast today.” ned gulps.

“mhm. well i think i’ll meet up with him. he shouldn’t walk all the way back alone.” you smirk, shoving past ned and running the direction peter went.

it took a good minute to find him outside, the boy running into a bakery. but once your eyes find him, you rush straight in, right behind him. eyes narrowed and full of questions. 

the brown haired boy quickly enters a bathroom and you grin. 

no escaping now, parker.

you wait outside the bathroom eagerly. only for minutes to pass. no sound escapes the room and you furrow your brows.

you knock on the door, no answer. annoyed you open the door, only to be met with an empty bathroom. 

an empty bathroom with an opened window.

what the fuck?

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“we’ve been upgraded!” mr. harrington gleams, looking down at our tired faces.

“last time we were upgraded we almost died.” betty sighs.

“ah- what did i say, we’re not going to repeat last year,” harrington retorts. “now...how do you guys feel about paris?”

well those words certainly livened up the breakfast table. train tickets are soon passed around, and you study yours, spoonful of yogurt still in your mouth.

“hey y/n, mj and i are gonna go to the louvre when we get there,” ned grins. “wanna come with?”

you chuckle, “another museum? nah, i’m good.”

mj quirks a brow at you, “this museum is home to the mona lisa. it’s not just any museum.”

“and the mona lisa is not just any painting… it’s an ugly one.” you huff.

ned guffaws at you.

“honestly, i might skip out too.” peter says.

you turn to face him, “great. you and i can explore paris while mj and ned explore another museum.”

he shifts in his seat, “i dunno i was thinking of-”

mj cuts him off, “i think that’s a great idea y/n. don’t you, peter? you remember what harrington said.. no repeat of last year.”

her eyes are cold as she awaits his answer and he fidgets more in his seat.

“i just think it might be best for me to stay here… ya know in case mr. stark needs anything.”

you roll your eyes, “dude, you’re just an intern. what could he possibly need that his other ten thousand interns can’t do.”

“technically he only has like six other… interns.” peter mumbles.

“but uh.. they can handle whatever mr. stark needs from you. i mean they’ve been av- uh, interns, for a while.” ned says, eyes pleading with his friend.

peter sighs before smiling at you, “alright, me and you versus paris.”

no peter parker, me and myself versus your dirty little secret.

somehow you got to sit next to peter in an empty train car for the ride to paris. and holy shit.. could he talk.

his eyes did have a way of lighting a fire inside you as he talked but, that, was not the point.

it was between an empty car with peter or full car sat between flash and harrington.

peter is always better than the latter.

“-anyways, how’d you convince your parents to let you go back to europe?” he asks.

“i didn’t. they made me.” you say simply.

peter slumps into his seat a little, “uh, why?”

“because when they were younger they traveled the world. i dunno, i guess they expect me to want to as well.” 

“oh. well, are you enjoying it so far.” he asks.

i’d enjoy it more if i could figure out your damned secret, parker.

“sure.”

and then, finally, peter is quiet. 

but not for long, as the train comes to a screeching halt.

over the train speakers comes a booming voice, “veuillez rester calme. le train s'est arrêté en raison d'un dysfonctionnement du moteur.”

your body tenses and you look at peter, “please tell me you understand french?”

“a little.. i dont think we need to worry. they said it’s just an engine malfunction.” he nods, looking around the train car.

you try to breathe. 

everything is okay. there’s no evil robots coming to destroy a train car with two innocent teenagers. that’s so pre civil war. just breathe. 

suddenly a loud bang is heard from the car behind you. not just any bang… a gunshot.

“holy shit.” you whisper, stiff as a board.

peter on the other hand is rummaging through his bag.

“parker! what the fuck are you doing?” you hiss.

“i.. just trust me okay? when i tell you to run… run.”

you look at him with a scowl, “i’m not going to be the sacrificial pig for slaughter, asswipe.”

he rolls his eyes, “i’m going to run with you. we’re going to find an empty car and then… wait for spiderman.” 

you blink. the kid’s gone insane.

“peter. listen, i know coping with your own inevitable death can be hard but, spiderman.. really?” you groan.

another loud bang comes from the car behind you. 

peter looks at you, taking your hand in his. 

the door to your car bursts open.

“run!” peter yelps, rushing into the next car, the gunmen not far enough behind.

“holy shit i’m gonna die.” you scream.

peter throws something at the gunmen when the two of you enter the next car, separating the two of you from the monsters.

but the kid didn’t throw just anything at them. motherfucker threw a damn door. a metal train door.

by the time you process the information, peter is pulling you into a cramped bathroom.

“i don’t have much time but basically, hi, i’m spiderman. those guys back there are people tony stark pissed off really bad and i need you to hide in here until i fix this issue.”

with that he pulls his jacket off revealing the spiderman suit you’re so used to seeing on the news.

“that’s your secret? this entire time i’ve been hanging around you trying to figure it out, and it turns out you’re spiderman. i would have thought anything before fucking spiderman.” you dwell, eyes wide.

he slips his mask on, “wait, you only hung out with me because you thought i had a secret? i mean.. i did but-”

another loud bang interrupts him, “nevermind. we’ll talk about this later. stay here and don’t tell anyone what i just told you.”

you nod, and watch him exit the bathroom.

so much for “not a repeat of last time.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“at least it wasn’t witches this time.” mr. dell sighs.

your entire fourth period groans. 

“what! our world is infested with witches now. i don’t even know why i’m teaching science. i’m gonna turn around one day and suddenly i’ll be teaching witchcraft.”

your eyes return back to your desk, staring a hole into the old wood. your trance is broken by a crumpled piece of paper. you roll your eyes and turn your attention to peter, who after europe has been watching you like a hawk.

you open the paper to see, ‘listen, mr. stark said i need to get written evidence that you won’t spill the beans. please sign below.’

you grimace but sign at the bottom of the paper and hand it back to your new ninny friend.

that’s right. friend. despite being one of the most annoying people on the planet, with the weirdest secret ever.. peter was nice. he was really nice. he liked almost everything you did and listened intently to whatever you had to say.

“earth to y/n.” his voice calls from beside you.

“oh? is class over?” you ask.

he nods and holds his arm out to you. you take it and give him a half smile.

you may find peter parker to be the weirdest dude ever, but you can’t deny that the secret superhero is starting to flood your mind. you never thought you’d be the one to say it, but peter parker is the coolest weirdo you’ve ever met.

and besides, your mission was a success. you figured out his secret and obtained a friend along with it.

well, friend, until you could complete your newest mission.

telling him you like him. like, a lot.

[fappellmoan]

happy hawkins holiday hiatus to @mikewheelerthepaladin !! here’s a lighthearted fic + a playlist of songs i listened to a lot while writing, i hope you enjoy 🥳

& a big thank you to @sevensided for putting this together, it’s been super fun <3

It’s the first time he’s been in over a year, really, but he’d entertained the thought of asking Will over the summer, for one last challenge before he left. It never happened, everything went by too fast; and, honestly, Mike didn’t know how to talk to him with the goddamn weight of everything - hi, we’ve barely spoken in the last year and we just almost died, again, and now you’re moving away forever - wanna hang out?

It’s the first time he’s been in over a year, really, but he’d entertained the thought of asking Will over the summer, for one last challenge before he left. It never happened, everything went by too fast; and, honestly, Mike didn’t know how to talk to him with the goddamn weight of everything - hi, we’ve barely spoken in the last year and we just almost died, again, and now you’re moving away forever - wanna hang out?

It’d never been that hard.

And it sucked. The whole thing. Now that Will is gone, it gnaws at him daily that they could have had more time together. Or a proper goodbye, at least. Instead, he spent a lot of time last summer sitting around, figuring out how to approach El and his feelings toward her, and most of all, alone.

But now the Byers are coming home for Christmas. And staying with The Wheelers, on top of it all.

So, seeking some sort of cryptic universal answer to his life problems, Mike returns to the place of a lot of younger memories, of crowding around machines with Lucas and Dustin and Will, a conglomeration of shouting and booing and cheering when one of them topped a high score, of frantically patting down their pockets for a few extra coins.

All of these wistful memories come to halt, however, when he finds a familiar redhead occupying one of their favorite games.

Max glances at him through the screen. “What do you want?”

“Uh, to play?” Honestly, he doesn’t care; he’s not sure he could focus enough to win much anyway. “Kicking your ass would be a plus.”

“Yeah, as if.” Her gaze fixes back on the colorful pixels dancing in front of her face.

Okay, well, she’s not moving anytime soon. He could probably just walk away, but a part of him wants company, even if it’s from someone hellbent on disagreeing with him.

Even when the Party hangs out now, Mike finds himself bickering with Max over what movies to see, where to eat, nearly anything, even when he doesn’t really give a shit. It’s the principle of the thing, and she gets under his skin. 

Maybe it’s a good thing.

Mike sighs, leans against one of the neighboring games, and shoves his hands in his pockets. “I don’t really know why I’m here.”

“Well, if you’re looking for me to throw pity money at you, it’s not happening.” After a beat, and losing the level, she kicks at the machine and turns to him. “Now look what you made me do. All your moping and talking - I could’ve beaten that if you would just leave me alone.”

He offers a quarter.

“Forget it.”

“I’ll buy you a pop, then.” She glares at him. “Seriously, okay, this is the first and only olive branch. Take it or leave it.”

After a moment of scowling at him, her arms folded, she slowly concedes, a smug look taking over. “Okay. I’ll take it, Wheeler.”

“So, you’re stalking me at the arcade because… of nothing?”

Mike presses his lips into a line. “I’m not stalking you,” he says, “and it’s not - it’s not nothing. I was gonna ask Lucas or Dustin to come, but… I felt like I needed to be here alone.”

Max sips on her drink. “That didn’t work out.”

“Guess not.”

“So you did need to talk to someone.”

“Guess so.”

God, this is borderline painful. Sitting in a shoddy little booth across from Max, whom he never once intended to have a heart-to-heart with, is a new level of desperation. But here they are.

With the most grandiose sigh he’s ever heard in his life, Max straightens in her chair. “Well, I don’t love giving advice to annoying teenage boys, but I’ve been told I’m good at it. Advice, you know.”

Mike raises an eyebrow. “Was it El who said that, by chance?”

“Bite me.”

Amused, Mike smiles, and he slides the near-empty cup between his hands like a little game, something else to focus on. “Okay, fine, give me some advice.”

Max frowns at him like he’s the biggest idiot in the world. “Maybe give me a situation to work with?” She mutters something under her breath that he doesn’t bother with.

“Well, the Byers are coming home and staying with us, and I wanted to come up with something really nice to do, you know. I know that they’re really nervous because it’s… the holidays have been rough, the past few years.” He finishes his drink and stares at the lid. “They almost refused. So, I dunno, I figured I could do something to make them feel like it’s still home.”

“Oh,” Max nods, finally breaking into a slight smile, “well, cool, you could set up something really romantic for El! She’d love it.”

Right. The girlfriend. 

He had no clue where the hell they left things when the Byers moved. About a month ago, Mike called to tell her the distance was confusing and they might need to take a break. He figured she would’ve told Max because, from his understanding, they spoke on the phone on an almost daily basis.

“Sure - yeah, yeah, that’s - it’s a good idea. For sure.”

Max falls back into a confused squint. “Was there something else you had in mind?”

Mike isn’t sure how to get it out without sounding like a total airhead. So he copes with it the best way he can. “You know what, this was dumb. I’ll figure it out myself.” He grabs his jacket and stands to leave.

“No, no, Mike - I want to help.” She’s looking up at him with a genuinely nice expression, holding out a hand to stop him from fully up and leaving. “I’m really good at this stuff, just let me know what I can do. No judgment. I swear.”

“I have to get home tonight anyway,” Mike says cautiously. “Told my mom I’d help with dinner.”

“Can I come over tomorrow?”

He frowns, and something digging at his stomach makes him respond with, “Why do you care?”

Max’s jaw sets. She stands up to meet his eye level and sets a look on him. “Even if I didn’t, even if I couldn’t care less about you, Mike, I care about El. And Will. And I want to be a part of their homecoming. So maybe you could figure out a way to not be a dick about it.” She snatches her drink cup and storms off from the table, leaving Mike to scramble after her with more apologies.

He’s gotta get better at this whole ‘girls’ thing.

He catches up to her outside. “Okay, listen - come over after school tomorrow. We can meet outside by the stairs.”

She barely turns to him, says, “Fine,” and then hops on her bike and rides away.

That’s how Mike ends up with Max in his basement, slowly walking and examining his things, but not touching any of them, thankfully.

It’s going alright, thus far. A part of him feels like he should reach out to Lucas and Dustin, too, since they’re also Will’s best friends. But something about this… works. He and Max can’t seem to stay entirely civil in each other’s company, but she gets something. And she hasn’t brought up El even once since yesterday.

“So, I’m gonna come up with a really cool campaign - well, I’ve been working on it, and I can tell you about it - “ Max lifts herself on tiptoe in his peripheral vision, “ - but anyway, we can pull an all-nighter, if everyone’s up for it, and make snacks and drinks and stuff, and we can have movies on for you guys, and I thought I might even look for some costumes because I really think Will would get a kick out of it. I can put lights up, too - “

“You draw?”

Max’s back is to him, as she’s looking over his wall of posters and pinned pictures. As he steps closer, he realizes her eyes are fixed on a sketch that definitely bears some resemblance to him.

“No, Will sent me those,” he says quickly, not wanting to seem like a giant narcissist, because Will’s drawing is - how can he say it - beautiful. “He’s been using charcoal a lot recently, he told me he got some new art stuff. I think he wants to send one of all of us.”

Max turns to him, and he can’t tell if she’s tearing up for some reason, but she quickly wipes any sign of tears away. “That’s so neat,” is all she says at first. There’s a small silence between them, and she’s just looking at him, and he has no idea what the hell he should say. “He’s such a good person,” she adds quietly, “I wish I got the chance to really know him.”

Mike’s breath hitches for a few seconds. “Yeah. I mean, he mentioned hanging out with you a few times.”

A smile lifts the girl’s cheeks. “Yeah, to bitch about you, mostly.”

“Hey!” he protests, but he can’t help but smile too, this time. This might just be their most pleasant interaction to date. “He never mentioned that.”

“I don’t know how he could, all you freakin’ do is talk.”

“Whatever.” Mike messes with some Christmas crafts on the table, holding them up in his vision to see where they might fit in the basement. He clears his throat. “You know, El and I, uh - we split.”

Max nods slowly. “She said you guys don’t call much.”

“No, we didn’t. I mean, I don’t even call Will, we just write.” He leans against the table, eyes glazing over as he looks over years of memories, dorky craft nights, and shitty school projects that he or his mom made a point to keep. “It’s too hard to talk - to either of them, you know. I didn’t think I could hear their voices without…”

Max cuts him off. “I get it.” She crosses over to the table, helping him pull apart old paper snowflakes. “I’m just the opposite. I’m scared if I don’t talk to them, I’ll convince myself it was all fake. And maybe it’d be for the better, but I’m glad I knew them. Even if only for a little while.”

Mike bites down on his lips, attempting to bury all the emotion threatening to spew out of him. “Yeah.”

Max finally looks up at him, and though they seem to have shared a moment, she snaps back out of it. “All offense, Mike, these are ugly as shit. I’m helping you make new ones, okay?”

“It’s for the memory!”

“No more living in the past.” She raises her eyebrows at him, and he pinches his face in annoyance, so she says, “Okay, you can put them up, in like, little corners, but we’re making new ones. Surprise. Work with me here, Michael.”

“It’s my basement, Max.”

“Did you or did you not ask for my help?”

Mike blinks. “Not really.”

She throws a crafty paper star at him. “Shut up, you’re glad I’m here.”

He shakes his head and moves on, but though he may never admit it, a part of him really is glad.

Weeks pass in what feels like a span of days or maybe hours, with Mike and Max sorting out their surprise plans with a typical amount of bickering - but hey, they get it done. Max has lots of opinions about decorations and music that make Mike roll his eyes, but she’s got a good eye and she offers to help with baking, which is not a strong suit of his. Yes, they throw a lot of streamers at each other, and threaten to storm out every other hour, but it gets done.

And the day is finally here.

Mike pulls himself into his best festive sweater and eyes himself in the mirror. He messes with his hair, though the long, wavy curls never seem to fall exactly into place - maybe growing it out was a mistake - and tugs at the creases of his sweater, letting out a huffy breath. None of it is working with him. When he can’t stand looking at himself anymore, he dashes down to the kitchen to help his mom with desserts.

She smiles when he plops into a seat. “You okay, honey? You seem a little tense.”

Mike jolts. “Uh, yeah, just excited.”

“Good! Joyce said the kids haven’t stopped talking about the trip for weeks.”

Great. “I hope we live up to the hype.”

“Oh, Mike. You know you don’t have to try that hard.” Karen stops frosting for a moment to look at him. “Will’s your best friend. El is excited to see you,” she nudges at him, and he coughs out a nervous laugh, “and Joyce thinks you’re an angel-”

“God, mom-”

“I’m serious. Don’t worry so much.” She leans forward on her forearms. “I know you think every problem in the world is on you, but it’s not. It’s enough just to be around the people you love. If anything, you’ve gone overboard.”

Overboard. Hopefully, it’s not too much.

Finally, he caves, exhaling slowly with a simple, “Okay.” He stays beside her, tapping his fingers, and eventually ruining a gingerbread man’s face until she notices and smacks his hand away.

There’s a knock on the door, and while Mike hops to his feet, his mother calls out, “Come in!” earning a panicked look from him. She mouths, ‘Chill,’ but he still half-jogs to the door and throws it open.

Nancy calls down the stairs, “Who is it?”

It’s Max, brandishing a few small wrapped gifts.

“Hello, sunshine,” she says. After a moment, “It’s great to see you too, Michael, allow me to invite myself in.”

“It’s just Max,” Mike calls back. He steps aside, and Max brushes past him, dropping her gifts by their tree and running into the kitchen. 

“Hi, Mrs. Wheeler!”

“Hey, Max, Merry Christmas!”

Mike’s mom seemed to think Max was one of the most charming people on the planet, something they frequently disagreed on, but he can’t be mad at their pleasant chatter right now.

Especially not when the next knock comes so soon.

Probably just Lucas and Dustin, dragging their feet as usual.

Mike opens the door, prepared with a quippy remark for his friends, but his stomach drops immediately.

It’s Will. Holding a bunch of luggage.

Mike is caught up in everything about him. He’s taller. New, floppy hair, tousled and messy in the biting snowy winds. His forearms exposed as his bags push against his jacket. Will.

The boy smiles at him. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Mike manages.

Will looks past him with a tiny wave, and Mike turns to see Max beaming and waving back, and then Max slips back into the kitchen and Will returns his gaze to Mike. “Can I come in?”

“Hey, Mike!” Joyce interrupts from the car, straining to grab something in the backseat. “Merry Christmas, honey!”

“Merry Christmas, Mrs. Byers!” Mike, finally catching up his brain-to-movement reactions, moves to let Will in. “Yeah, come in. I’m gonna, uh, go help your mom.”

“Cool.”

He immediately forgets why he’s moved and attempts to step out as Will crosses the threshold, almost knocking him over, so Mike grabs his arms to stabilize with a, “Sorry - uh - whoops, haha, don’t fall,” and Will chuckles and shifts a bag to his shoulder, saying, “It’s alright,” and Mike spends his walk to the Byers’ car trying not to curse himself out.

“Oh, Mike, thank you, sweetie,” Joyce grunts, pulling a heavy tote bag from the floor of the car. “Can you carry this?” Mike nods and takes it from her easily, offering his arms out for extra luggage. Together, with Jonathan, who greets him with a, “Merry Christmas, man,” they manage to get everything inside in one trip. Mike hardly notices El rummaging through the trunk until she comes stumbling along with a basket full of gifts.

Finally, they’re all inside, and only a beat goes by before Nancy comes bounding down the stairs to greet Jonathan, and Joyce is grinning around at everybody, and then Karen rushes in from the kitchen with excited greetings.

“It is so good to see you,” Joyce says, opening her arms up to Mike for a hug. “You’ve grown so much-'' she looks at Karen and mutters, “-so much-” then looks back at Mike. “We’ve missed you all.”

“I’ve missed you guys too,” Mike says, “I’m glad you decided to come.”

“We couldn’t miss it. Figured it’s best that we’re together, you know.” Her expression falters, but she takes a breath and carries on with moving bags and ‘Merry Christmases.’

Joyce and his mom wind up chattering, and Karen takes off her apron to help transfer some luggage to the spare room. Nancy takes Jonathan’s hand and heads upstairs, grabbing one of his bags from the ground.

Will seems to have disappeared into the kitchen with Max, leaving his things behind, so it’s just Mike and El.

Mike takes in a deep breath.

It wasn’t an ugly breakup; honestly, El seemed unfazed. Their calls were little more than small talk about their days, most of the time, and even though he thought they might hold onto their past, everything they’d been through… it seemed to work best that they didn’t.

“Hey, Merry Christmas.”

El smiles easily. “Merry Christmas, Mike.” She lifts the basket slightly for acknowledgment. “Can these go by the tree?”

“Yeah, yeah, go for it.”

El nods and slips by the couch over to the tree, carefully laying out the gifts. After a few moments of Mike awkwardly leaning against the couch arm, thinking up something to say - thank god she didn’t seem too focused on him - Max walks in, her mouth stuffed with a truffle.

“El!” She darts over to the tree, and El jumps up, eyes bright, immediately throwing her arms around the girl’s shoulders. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” El giggles. “I brought you a gift.”

“You too. I can’t wait for you to see it. But first, you have to try one of these sweets Mrs. Wheeler’s making. They’re like frickin’ heaven.” She holds out the last bite of her own, and El takes it from her hand, eyes lighting up mischievously as she bites into it.

“It’s amazing.”

“I know. I think we should go sample some of the others.”

Mike calls out to their backs, “You guys better leave some for later on,” and in response, hears Max mimic him. He rolls his eyes and stands up from the couch.

And then it’s just him and Will, who’s beaming at him, seemingly amused by their banter.

Okay, Mike, now or never. “Uh, I’ll show you downstairs.”

“We’re not staying in your room?” Will asks simply, crossing over to retrieve his duffel bag.

“We totally can, I just have something I wanted to show you.”

Will nods. “Oh, okay, cool.”

Mike assists with a smaller bag and leads him to the basement door; before he runs down the stairs, he catches Max’s eye, and she gives him a thumbs up and mouths, ‘You got this.’ Deep breaths. At that moment, he’s incredibly thankful for her presence. 

He watches as Will follows him down, slower, glancing around at the familiar surroundings. His eyes catch on everything Mike and Max put together over the past few weeks, and his footsteps grow slower as he takes it all in.

Streamers of all festive colors and off-balance fairy lights hang along the corners of the basement, phrases of ‘Welcome home,’ hand-cut and pasted on the front wall; at the table, a game mat and figures sit in wait, silly hats placed in front each chair; even the TV is prepared with a Santa hat, the couch covered in blankets and pillows, a few sleeping bags folded on the floor.

“Mike,” Will says quietly, stepping in a small circle, “what is all this?”

“Your homecoming party.” Mike is all jitters; he leans against the wall and shoves his hands in his pockets to disguise any visible shakes. “You like it?”

Will finally looks straight at him, an indiscernible look painted on his face. “Yeah,” he says, nodding rapidly, “yeah, it’s great - but we, uh,” he swallows and shakes his head, “we don’t, um, have to play D&D. I mean-”

“I don’t know, Will,” he ventures to step away from the wall, taking slow steps over to the table. Will follows every move. “I mean, I was really excited to have you back, even just for a little bit. We all were.” He reaches the table and leans back on his hands. “Figured having our cleric back warranted some festivities.”

Will shakes his head, runs his hands along his face, and turns away. The bit of confidence Mike has slowly starts to trickle.

“Is it okay?”

Will shakes out of his stupor and chuckles. “It’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me. You’ve truly outdone yourself, Michael.” He lifts himself on tiptoe to look at decorations on top of Mike’s shelves. “Are these from our big craft night, like, years ago?”

The horrible crayon work makes Mike smile - they made half of the snowmen evil, citing a Great Abominable Snowman War, and gave them wicked frowns and smiles, claws on their stick hands. “Yeah.”

“I didn’t know you kept them.”

“I keep everything.” An awkward chuckle breaks from his chest. “Not everything, like, a hoarder or whatever, but - “

Will simply smiles and pushes himself forward toward the back wall, brushing past Mike, to his different pinups. He fixates on the sketch of Mike that he’d sent about a month back. “You know, you should probably take this down. I don’t think you’ll hear the end of it from Lucas and Dustin if you don’t.”

“Screw ‘em.”

“Right.” Will quirks his eyebrow and moves to sit in his designated chair, right next to where Mike is currently resting. “So, they know about D&D?”

“They know.” Mike smiles, and looks at the floor, right where their legs brush up against each other. “They seem pretty excited to have the party back together. To remind you of how badass your first one was,” he adds.

Will peers up at him for a moment before quietly saying, “I never joined another one.” Mike meets his eye for a moment, then, threatened by the silence that follows, clears his throat and distracts himself with a particularly interesting notch in the wood paneling. “Did you guys find someone else?”

“No, no,” Mike assures him. “We haven’t touched any of this stuff. It’s not the same.”

A silence settles between them, one that neither seems to know how to navigate. But Will keeps his gaze steady on Mike, trying to breach some barrier, to fall back into their usual ways.

Something is different, though; it’s not uncomfortable, it never could be, but it’s something intimidating. Will seems more comfortable, at least; he’s not shying away from anything Mike throws at him.

And he tries to break the silence first. “Y’know - “

“Will,” Mike cuts him off, and he’s not sure what he’s saying, or where he’s going with it, but he knows he’s supposed to say this. His name. “I need you to know that I missed you.”

Will blinks at him, cocks his head. “I missed you too,” he says matter-of-factly.

The words are eating at him, right there on the edge of his mind, and Will looks almost concerned and now Mike just wants to drop it because that’s not what he wanted. But he can’t, not now. “I missed you the most.” It sounds so juvenile. “More than everyone else. I missed you before you even left. I just didn’t know how to say it.” He breathes in and out, focusing on Will’s cheeks, the tip of his nose, anything but his eyes. When Will doesn’t say anything, the rest just spills. “I missed you when our first first day of school apart came and passed, and I didn’t even call. I missed you at homecoming. And,” he licks his lips, not really sure where his speech is heading, “I know you had to go, it’s fine. We’ll figure it out. But I feel like we haven’t been on the same page in a long time. So, I missed you, and I love you, and that’s that.”

Will looks at him funny, and then his face softens into something like laughter, and Mike is genuinely about to run and throw up somewhere, but then the boy closes his eyes and says, “I love you too.”

Mike blanches. “I don’t think I said that.”

“Oh, you definitely did.”

“Oh,” he nods, mind spinning, “well, you know…”

Will stands to be at Mike’s level, leans forward on his knees. Mike stops breathing. “I do,” he says, “but tell me again.”

Mike swallows down a breath of courage and suggests, “I think I might like you.” His eyes flit to Will’s lips, then back to his eyes. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll allow it,” Will says, a bright smile causing lines near his eyes. Mike smacks at his arm, nervous laughter coming out with a quiet, ‘Shut up.’ Will moves so he’s resting his fingertips on the table. Inches away.

“Same page, then?” Mike asks.

“Same page, yeah, for sure.”

Mike nods absently, distracting himself with the strings on Will’s sweatshirt. “So I don’t sound crazy?”

Will laughs. “I dunno. I always counted on us going crazy together. Figured we might have a few extra years, but hey, I’m all in.”

And then Mike is flashed back to a night on his couch just over a year ago. Knees knocking together, shared smiles. A promise.

So much has changed.

He wants to know what Will meant. A future of being in each other’s lives, maybe, getting old and senile and batshit crazy. Always being there.

He never dared to think about it before.

“So what now?”

Will shrugs. He dips his head to meet Mike’s eyes with his own. “What do you want, Mike?”

And finally, he thinks he might know.

Or maybe he’s always known.

He scoots forward, takes Will’s face in his hands, and kisses him. It’s just a quick press of their lips, but in that moment, he knows a few things for sure. His heartbeat is going a mile a minute, and Will must be able to feel it; it’s absolutely exhilarating, surreal, insane that he’s kissing his best friend; and, he is definitely in like, or maybe love, with Will Byers.

He’ll probably love him forever.

When Mike pulls back and his eyes flutter open to see Will, flushed, blinking back at him, slightly dazed, he doesn’t want to pull away at all. He did that. Mike’s hand remains on his jaw, lax, and he runs his thumb along Will’s bottom lip, curious to see his reaction, curious about a lot, now.

Will lets out a breathy chuckle. “Wow,” he mumbles, “that’s new.”

“Yeah.” Mike exhales shakily, takes one of Will’s hands, and says, “Merry Christmas, Will.”

“Yeah, Merry Christmas.”

The world doesn’t seem to fall apart like Mike thought it might if he ever got to this point, so, that’s nice.

“So…” Mike begins carefully, “you’re gonna have to be slow with me here. This is sort of a lot for me.”

“Me too,” Will replies simply. He squeezes Mike’s hand. “But we’ll figure it out.”

“Totally.”

Will takes his cheeks in his hands and smiles into a very gentle kiss, his fingers curling into the hair at the nape of Mike’s neck. It’s soft and sweet and lingering - but not for too long, as moments later the door upstairs busts open and shouts of, “BYERS!” from their dear friends sound through the air, and Mike and Will jump apart, equally startled and laughing.

“Down here!” Will calls out. He looks at Mike, smiles, offers, “To be continued?” and as he walks past, he leans in, just to leave a quick peck on Mike’s cheek.

And all Mike can do is laugh and shake his head and run after him to meet their friends; Lucas and Dustin are horribly late to the surprise, but they collide into Will the second they see him, shouting over each other, ‘What’s going on, dude?’ ‘Merry Christmas!’ ‘You’ve missed so much,’ and everyone is grinning and chattering, and it’s awesome.

Max approaches him, watching all of the madness, smacks a hand to his shoulder, and says, “You did good, Wheeler.”

“Yeah, I did.” She punches his arm lightly, laughing, so he adds, “thank you for everything. Seriously.”

“I think we should work together more often.”

Mike scoffs into a laugh, and says, “Yeah, guess so.”

Max rolls her eyes, but at least now they’re actually laughing in each other's company. It’s great progress from just a few weeks ago.

After a minute of watching the boy’s shenanigans, Max smiles. “Well, Merry Christmas, anyway.”

“Merry Christmas,” he responds, and he watches as she jumps up onto a kitchen stool, chatting and giggling with El.

With everyone back together again, finally, Mike feels really alive; so, he jumps in with all the excited shouting and group hugs and bickering, and celebrates the merriest Christmas he can remember in a long time.

[thetravelerwrites]

Henry (Amphiptere Naga) Lemon

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Female Human/Male Naga Additional Tags: Exophilia, Monster Boyfriend, Naga, Amphiptere, Best Friends to Lovers, Demisexual, Graysexual, Sex Worker, Cam Model, Mutual Pining Words: 6104

A gift from @oddacle​ to her friend/roommate! A woman moves back to her home town after an online friend offers her both a job and a place to stay. She accidentally learns an interesting secret about him that she tries, and fails, to hide. Please reblog and leave feedback! Art by @oddacle​!

The Traveler's Masterlist

You stretched at your desk and sighed. “Well, Henry, I should get to bed,” You said. “I’ve got a lot of packing to do tomorrow.”

“Dude, I can’t wait to see you in person finally!” He said over the headset. “I’m so excited you’re coming to work in the store.”

“Me too!” You said. “It’ll be nice to see you in person! And I can’t thank you enough for giving me a job and a place to stay. Working at the grocery store was crushing my soul.”

“I get that,” He told you. “I felt so out of place when I worked construction. I’m so glad I decided to save up to open the flower shop.”

“You and me both,” You said. “Flower arranging is something I love to do. I about fell out of my chair when you said you owned a shop.”

“Two more days and you’ll get to see it yourself,” He said with a laugh. “Go get some sleep. I’ll see you soon.”

“Night, Henry,” You said, smiling to yourself as you logged off. You had met Henry while gaming almost five years ago now, and he had been one of the best friends you’d ever had. At first you just played together, but after about a year, the two of you had exchanged phone numbers, and since then you texted each other constantly and called each other once a week. Despite that, you had never actually seen what he looked like. You didn’t mind; maybe he was body-shy. You could understand that.

When you finally quit the soul-suck of a job in the back of a grocery, he was quick to offer you a place in his shop, in your own home town, no less, as well as one of the apartments above the store. You’d been homesick since you moved away with your mom when you were younger, so the idea of going back had massive appeal. Combined with your dream job and working with your best friend, it was like everything you ever wanted was just falling into place.

That Saturday, you loaded every single thing you owned into a rental truck and headed to Santa Barbara, excited to start a new life and meet your best friend for the first time.

You pulled up to Henry’s Floral Arrangements later that evening just before sundown, driving nearly nine hours straight with only a few breaks for food, gas, and bathroom visits. You pulled out your phone and clicked Henry’s number.

“Hey, are you here?” He asked excitedly.

“Yep!” You said, stepping out of the truck. “I pulled up just now. Are you in the shop?”

“Yeah, I’m coming out! Be right there.” And he hung up.

You giggled at his enthusiasm and walked around the truck just as he came out of the shop, his face as excited as a brand new puppy with a brand new toy, and you stopped in your tracks.

He. Was. Beautiful.

He was a naga, but a rarer breed than average: an amphiptere. He had short, two pronged horns on his head and large wings on his back. His horns were teal, and the feathers of his wings were teal and ocean blue with black accents on the outside and grey on the inside, like the skin of his torso. His snake skin was teal and ocean blue as well, with giant black rings lining his back. His eyes were as golden as his nipple rings. He had lovely tattoos on his arms, neck, and back of waves and geometric shapes. He was lean and muscular, and had short black hair. He wore no clothing, so every inch of his glorious body was on full display.

You stood staring at him, unable to speak, as he slithered up to you. Oh god. This was not a possibility you had entertained. Living next to your best friend had sounded like a dream. But now… oh no, this was a disaster. How could you be attracted to him? You never felt attraction, not ever! Of all the times, of all the people, Henry had to be… this! This lovely specimen of a naga, and the best friend you’d ever had! What were you going to do?!

“You alright?” He asked, tilting his head and lowering himself down to look at your face.

You blinked and smiled breathlessly. “Yes! Yes, I’m great! It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

“You too!” He reached out for a hug and you walked into it. His skin was cool and smooth to the touch. He smelled like peonies. “Come in, come in, let me show you around!”

“What about unpacking?” You asked.

“Oh, leave that till tomorrow,” He said. “Let’s order a pizza and eat in the shop.”

You grinned. “That actually sounds amazing.”

“Come on!” He held out his hand and took yours and pulled you into the shop.

Oh, it was incredible. It had just crested into the middle of spring and the seasonal flowers were exploding all over the place. Color was everywhere. You closed your eyes and just breathed in the fragrances.

“Have I died?” You asked, your eyes still closed. “I’ve died, haven’t I?”

He laughed. “I hope not, you just got here.” He picked up his cell phone from the counter. “Pepperoni and pineapple on thin crust, right?”

“Yep!” You said, sitting at the counter, your eye catching on the decorative cherry blossom bonzai tree that you’d sent him for Christmas two years ago. You weren’t sure if he’d even like it, much less have kept it, but there it was, right next to the register where everyone could see it. It gave you a warm feeling in your chest.

He took you to the second floor, where there were two apartments, one on either side. You couldn’t help but notice one half of the stairs was covered with a ramp, likely to make it easier for Henry to get to the second story.

He led you to the apartment on the right and opened the door. It was a modest place but comfortable, and from the smell it seemed like it was recently deep cleaned and freshly painted in a pretty holly-green color with blush pink accents. There was a vase with all your favorite flowers spilling out of it on the kitchen table. It was mostly furnished with older but functional furniture, so you hadn’t needed to bring any heavy wardrobes or mattresses or anything, thankfully. Most of what you had in your old place was junk anyway.

“I love it,” You told Henry. “And I love the flowers.”

“I thought it would be a nice touch,” He said, holding his arm almost shyly. “I wanted you to feel comfortable.”

“I feel more comfortable here than I did in the two years I spent in my last place,” You said truthfully. “You know, we can leave the unpacking for tomorrow, but can we go down and get my rig and gear and hook it up while we wait for the pizza? It’s the only thing I have that I don’t want to leave in a truck overnight.”

“I get that,” He said.

The two of you managed to get your PC, laptop, gaming gear, and computer desk up the stairs in one trip. There was a flat screen TV on the wall of the living room to which you hooked up your PC. You ran a diagnostic as Henry heard the buzzer from the door and rushed down to get the pizza. Then the two of you spent an incredible evening eating pizza, watching comedies on Netflix, and solidifying the strength of your friendship.

You were comfortable, more so than you had ever been with anyone. Five years of talking to him was wonderful, but being close, seeing his smile, hearing his laugh and the way his eyes crinkled when he did was pure magic.

Magic that you didn’t want to ruin by being weird or creepy just because you suddenly felt attracted to him. Would he be weirded out by the fact that your brain turned into goo the moment you saw him? Would he think it was just because of his looks? You didn’t want that.

And you didn’t want to fuck up what was already an amazing relationship. Hell, meeting him in person and hanging out with him had already been a huge test of your friendship; working with him and living next to him would be an even greater one. You didn’t want to complicate it even further with an, in all likelihood, one-sided attraction.

By the time the pizza was gone and he headed back to his apartment for bed, you’d already decided to put the attraction or any notion of a relationship beyond friends out of your head.

But by God, he was beautiful.

You sort of jumped into the deep end when you started in the shop: prom season was just beginning, so you spent weeks making corsages and lapel pins. Henry thankfully spared you from having to deal with spoiled teenagers, entitled moms, and annoyed jocks dragged in by their girlfriends. Henry seemed well practiced at fielding angry customers who couldn’t make up their mind.

After work, the two of you often ate dinner together, either in his place or yours. Even though you were usually exhausted at the end of the day, you still played games together at least four times a week from your respective apartments, talking to each other over headsets even though you were probably only two walls and twenty feet apart. Sometimes you took your laptop to his apartment and played at the same desk.

It went on that way for months. It was amazing and you treasured every minute you got to spend with him. Despite putting the idea of dating him away in the back of your head, it was easy to pretend like it was just the two of you, together, against the world

After prom season ended, business slowed dramatically. You weren’t as tired in the evenings, so when you weren’t playing games with Henry, you did a little writing. You were too shy to let anyone read it, even Henry, but it still felt good to have a creative outlet.

One night, as you were writing, you heard Henry’s voice over your gaming headset on the desk. The two of you had quit playing over an hour ago, so you put it on to see if he needed anything.

“You alright, Henry? Are you back online?”

He didn’t respond, so you thought maybe you were just hearing things, but as you went to pull your headset off, you heard him say, “I’m glad to see you again. I’ve missed you.” The sound of his voice was distant, like he didn’t have his headset on.

Did he have company? His voice sounded silky and sultry, a tone you’d never heard before, and you wondered briefly if he had a girlfriend, or boyfriend. Or whatever. He’d never mentioned anything like that to you, but you weren’t his mom; he was allowed to have private things he didn’t share with other people. You did, after all.

Still, the idea that he was in a relationship cut a little deeper than you would have liked.

You heard another voice, but it was strangely robotic sounding, like it was coming through a speaker, and you couldn’t quite make out what the other person was saying. Whoever they were, they sounded male. Maybe he was in a long distance relationship?

“Mm, I love it when you talk to me like that,” Henry said, a sexy lilt in his voice. “Tell me what you’d like me to do. I could touch myself. Would you like that?”

You blushed and your heart began to race. You shouldn’t be listening to this, you knew that. It was private and none of your business. But… you couldn’t take the headset off. You wanted to hear this. You wanted him to talk to you that way. Maybe through this person, vicariously, you could have an intimate moment with him. It may be the only chance you ever got.

You heard him moan over the headset, and a sparkling heat filled your body. You bit your lip at the thrill you felt, but you were unable to move, like a deer in headlights. There was a dangerous quality to this, the idea of getting caught listening in terrified you.

You heard the person on the computer say something, but you couldn’t understand them.

Henry responded, “Of course I will. I know how much you like that… mmm, that feels so good.”

Henry’s moaning over the headset made you feel both exhilarated and astonished. You felt like you could listen to him moaned for hours.

Henry grunted sharply and repeatedly, then gasped for a minute before speaking again.

“That was wonderful,” Henry said. “It always is with you.” The other person said something you couldn’t understand, and Henry answered, “Oh, I’m afraid we don’t have time for that, darling. Our date is almost over. If you’d like to purchase a ten minute extension, you can donate an additional five hundred tokens, or you can schedule another date from any of the open slots on the main website. You know I’m always happy to spend time with you.”

You sat up in your seat, confused. Tokens? Website? What was he talking about?

There were more words you could hear, and Henry tutted. “Aww, are you sure?” He pouted. “Well, alright. I hope you won’t make me wait long, darling. See you soon.”

There was some tapping on his keyboard, and there was a power-down sound. Henry sighed and you could hear him slither out of his office, closing the door behind him.

You sat for a moment, trying to wrap your head around what you’d heard. Was he getting paid to jerk off for people? You opened a web browser and typed “amphiptere cam model” into the search engine.

You knew amphiptere nagas were rare, of course, so you weren’t surprised to only have found two results. You were surprised to find Henry’s face on one of the profiles, wearing beautiful make up and a sexy underbust corset with matching opera gloves. You clicked it, and realized he was both very expensive and highly sought after, considering all of his five weekly slots were already filled for the next two months.

Henry was a cam model. And he was apparently very good at it.

You put a hand to your forehead, stunned. What was happening right now? This was something you could never have anticipated. He was hot, of course, but he always seemed like a shy, down-to-earth kind of guy to you, even after meeting him. Who knew he had this in him? You weren’t judging, it was just surprising.

You didn’t manage to get much sleep that night, and when you did, you dreamt of being on the other end of that screen and woke in a sweat.

The next morning, you stood in the shower with your thoughts in a roil. Should you tell him you know? Would he be upset with you? Probably; listening in was a huge breach of both privacy and trust. Oh, god, what had you done? How were you supposed to act around him now? He’d know something was wrong; you could never hide your emotions well and he knew you better than anyone. Was it too late to live in a cave and cut ties with society altogether?

No, there was no internet in caves. Fuck.

You couldn’t avoid him forever; you were due downstairs for work. You could tell him that you were sick, but knowing him, he’d shut down the shop for the day to take care of you. He was so damn sweet.

No, You said, mentally slapping yourself. Don’t get distracted by his adorableness! This is a crisis!

You got out of the shower and started brushing out your hair, your stomach in knots. A knock at the door made you jump clean out of your towel. Throwing on your robe, you went to answer it. Henry was standing there with a bag and coffee, and his eyes widened when he saw your bathrobe.

“Oh, sorry, I just came to bring some breakfast. Felt like treating you a little.”

You swallowed a lump in your throat and smiled. “Thanks, this is awesome. I’ll get dressed and meet you down in the shop. You’re the best.”

He gave you a full, sharp-toothed grin and snaked his way downstairs, leaving you to grip the door to keep from falling to your knees. Did he have to be so kind? He was the worst!

You met him downstairs and tried to be normal through breakfast, but all you could think of was the way he moaned last night and tried to keep the blush off your face. Work wasn’t any better, you had all of ten customers that day, so you spent most of it talking to Henry and daydreaming about him calling you darling. It was all you could do to hold it together.

After closing the shop, he asked if you wanted to have dinner and a game at his place, but you declined, saying you were tired. He seemed concerned but didn’t press it, and you were able to escape upstairs.

You made yourself some tea to try and settle your nerves, stress-eating girl scout cookies straight from the box as you waited for the water to boil. Was it going to be like this forever? This was torture.

Another knock at the door startled you into dropping your cookies.

“Fuck!” You hissed at yourself as you bent to pick up a box. “Get your shit together!”

Henry was at the door. He had a bag from a deli.

“I brought you soup,” He said. “You seemed like you weren’t feeling well today. Is anything wrong?”

You felt incredibly guilty, staring at that bag for a solid minute, unable to talk.

“Hey,” He said, frowning and squinting into your eyes. “What’s up? Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“I’m so sorry, Henry,” You said without thinking.

“Sorry?” He said. “For what? What happened?”

You were having a hard time articulating your thoughts. You hadn’t meant to say sorry, and once it slipped out, your mind blanked.

“Look, can I come in?” He asked plaintively. “Something is obviously wrong. I want to help.”

You scrubbed your face. “Okay.”

He followed you in and laid the soup on the table. “So… tell me. What’s going on?”

“I don’t even know how to say it,” You said, looking around helplessly. Your eyes fell on your headset. You picked it up and listened to it, and you could hear the fan from his office running. “Here,” You said, handing it to him. “Listen.”

He put the headset on, frowning with confusion.

“Do you hear anything?” You asked.

“I think that’s the fan, right?”

“Yeah, from your office,” You said.

He laughed as he took it off. “I’m an idiot, I must have forgot to disconnect last night after we were playing.”

“Right, it was active last night. All last night. I could hear you.”

His face went from confusion to blank shock, his mouth hanging open.

“...oh,” He said quietly. “Oh, god.”

“I’m so sorry,” You said. “I shouldn’t have listened. I should have taken it off and ignored it. I’m so, so sorry.”

There was a pause. “How long did you listen?”

“I think it was the whole thing. I heard you… finish.” You blushed just thinking about it.

“That was a thirty minute session,” He said, confusion back on his face. “Why did you listen so long?”

You looked away and bit your lip, unable to meet his eyes.

“Did you… enjoy it?” He asked. He sounded almost hopeful.

You couldn’t speak, but you nodded once.

“Really?” You heard a smile in his voice, and you managed to look up. He had a goofy, sappy grin on his face. “You don’t think it’s gross or anything like that?”

You shook your head. “No. I’m curious, though. Why do you do it?”

“I only do it during the off seasons,” He said. “The first year was really hard for the store and I almost lost the shop. I got into camming to make ends meet, but the money was so good I just continued to do it when business is really slow. I’ve been able to save a lot of money this way. I was even thinking of opening a second location, and I think at the end of this season, I’ll have enough.” He looked very shy. “You really don’t mind it?”

You shook your head fervently. “No, not at all.” You looked at his earnest face. He didn’t seem angry, and while you were relieved, you also felt inquisitive. “What’s it like? Does it feel weird?”

“It did at first,” He admitted. “But it’s normal now. It’s actually fun, especially getting ready and putting on the clothes and stuff. I don’t really get to wear that stuff out, so it’s the only time I get to feel… I don’t know, fancy.”

You smiled softly. “I think I get that.”

“Actually,” He said, rubbing his neck. “I was going to record a free promo to put up on the website tonight. Do you want to help me do my makeup? I sort of self-taught myself, but I can never get the eyeliner right.”

“Oh! Yeah, of course, sure!” You said. “I really liked that corset I saw you in.”

He narrowed his eyes at you and smirked. “Did you Google me?”

“I had to,” You said. “Wouldn’t you?”

He laughed. “I guess.” He took your hand and led you toward the door and his apartment. “Come on. I’ve always wanted to have someone help with this. I’m never sure which colors compliment my skin.”

“Wait, let me grab my makeup bag,” You said, running back to your bathroom, snatching it up, and returning. “Okay, let’s go.”

Helping a guy with his makeup counted as a date, right?

He took you to his bedroom, which you’d never been. There wasn’t any furniture, not even a bed. Instead there was a huge nest of fluffy pillows and soft blankets which took up most of the floor space. He had a large walk-in closet where there was a hidden vanity with fairy lights around the mirror. The hangers had various corsets, fishnet shirts, and gloves. There was another desk that seemed to be a large jewelry case.

“This must have cost a fortune,” You said, impressed. You wished you had the confidence to wear some of this.

“A small one,” He told you. “Sometimes in camming, you have to spend to make money. The customers like variety; it’s why I record a new free promo every week. I don’t want my patrons to get bored with me.”

“Who could ever get bored with you?” You blurted without thinking.

You blushed. He blushed.

“Uh… I don’t have any chairs,” He said. “But you can sit on my tail, if you like.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, looking at his tail as it made a hump for you to rest on. “Won’t I hurt you?”

“No, no, not at all,” He said. “Please. I want you to be comfortable.”

“Really, it’s okay, I’ll stand,” You said, unable to even imagine sitting on his beautiful tail. “Now, let’s see. We’ll wash your face first and then we’ll start on your make-up. What about a gold lip? That’ll make your eyes pop.”

“Ooh, that’s a good idea,” He said. “I just bought some new shades recently, and I think there’s a gold in there.”

Applying his makeup for him was a stressful experience. You were eye to eye with him, so close you could feel his breath on your skin. His lips were inches away from your own, and you were having trouble not dwelling on that fact. He was cold-blooded, and therefore generated no heat, but you wondered if he could feel yours at this distance, if he enjoyed it or was made uncomfortable by it.

You did also notice, though, that his tail had wrapped around the two of you twice. He let his arms dangle, but you noticed the muscles twitching a few times and asked yourself if you might be making him self-conscious. After all, you were the only person in his real life who knew about all this.

“Makeup done,” You said. “You look amazing. I wish I could pull off a look this daring.”

“I bet you could,” He said with a smile, looking at you fondly. “Now that I think about it, I’ve never seen you done up before. I’ll have to take you somewhere really nice so that I can see what that looks like.”

Again he blushed, even through the makeup, and pressed his lips together.

You didn’t answer that statement, trying not to read too much into it, and instead looked over at his vast array of cute garments. “How about that gold and blue underbust with the Victorian scrolling pattern? I think it would look good with your makeup.”

“Oh, yes, that’ll work nicely,” He said, grinning. “And that shrug with those gloves. I usually work a little bit of a striptease into these promos.”

You cleared your throat. “You… uh… you’ll have to let me go,” You said, gesturing at his tail.

“Oh!” He jumped and unspooled, so to speak. “Sorry. Have you ever laced a corset before?”

“Yeah, once or twice. I’ve had friends who’ve worn them before. Would you like help?”

“Yes, please,” He said. He lifted his arms to let you reach around him and position the corset, gingerly moving the feathers of his wings out of the way so that you didn’t crush them. “Thank you for this. I’ve never gotten finished so fast before. I should ask you to help all the time.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” You said, pulling the strings taut. “This was fun.”

“I’m glad you think so, too,” He said, looking over his shoulder. “If you don’t have any plans after I’m done filming and editing the video, would you like to come back over and help me take all of it off?”

You looked at him and blushed.

“I didn’t mean that in a dirty way,” He said hurriedly. “It’s just nice having someone who knows and I can talk to about it.”

“I get that,” You said as he pulled on the gloves. “Are you ready to record?”

“Yeah,” He said. “Thanks for helping.”

“Sure,” You told him. “I has happy to. I’ll let you get to it, then.”

He nodded and you saw yourself out.

When you got back to your apartment and sat down at your gaming desk, you sighed heavily, the thoughts of how good Henry looked revolving in your mind. You were both extremely attracted to him and a bit jealous that he looked better than you in all that stuff. It actually made you laugh a little bit.

“Welcome back,” You heard Henry say, and you looked down at the headset laying on your desk.

Oh jeez, he left his headset plugged in again. God you loved him, but he was such an idiot sometimes.

“I’m glad you could join me. I’m hoping your having a lovely day.” You heard the soft shhff of him taking off one of the gloves. “I always love seeing your face. I love the way your hands move. I love the smell of your shampoo when it mixes with your perfume. I love that soft little smile that you get when you arrange flowers across the shop from me.”

…what? What did he just say?

“I hope you’re listening. I’ve tried so hard to say this to you when we’re face to face, but I can never seem to find the words. This way, I can say what I want. This way, if you don’t hear me, then I haven’t risked our friendship, and if you do hear and don’t feel the same, you can ignore it, and nothing has to change. But… if you do feel the same… come back. Please. This show is for you and no one else. I’ll be waiting for you.” You heard the headset being pulled off and laid down on the desk.

You stood up and did the same. He couldn’t mean you, could he? There was no way. Stunned, you walked back toward your front door and opened it, looking across the hall at Henry’s door.

It was cracked open.

With your heart in your throat and breathing like you just ran a mile, you pushed it open and walked slowly toward his office, only to find it empty. The headset was laying on the desk and the camera was off. Looking down the hallway, you saw the light in his bedroom was on and the door was also cracked. Swallowing hard, you walked down to his room and opened the door.

He was laying there, curled up around himself, laying with his head on his arms, looking a little forlorn.

“Henry?” You asked.

He popped up immediately, his eyes widening. “You came.” He whispered. “You actually came!” Before you could respond, he rushed up and snatched you off the ground, hugging you tight. “Does this mean you want me, too? The way I want you, I mean.”

“I… yes,” You said. “I just didn’t want you to think it was because of… well… all this.”

“I don’t care about that, I’m just so happy,” He said, kissing your cheek. “I’ve been in love with you forever, even before we met in person. I was just scared that if you found out about my second job, you’d be disgusted. Knowing you don’t mind it gave me the courage to try and confess.”

“I’m glad you did,” You replied, hugging him tightly around the neck. “I’d never have been able to do it.”

He pulled back and looked at you. “Can I kiss you, please?”

You laughed at the absurdity, but you appreciated that he asked first. He was thoughtful like that. You nodded, and he didn’t waste time, pressing his lips to yours hard enough that you could feel the fangs behind them.

His kisses became hungry, and he gripped your clothes. “I… um… don’t want to assume,” He said breathlessly between kisses. “But… um…” He looked over at his bed-nest, and regarded you with a questioning look.

“It’s okay,” You replied. “I’ve wanted this for a long time, too.”

He snaked over to the nest and lay you down in it, unbuttoning your shirt.

“Should I take off the corset for you?” You asked him.

“I can leave it on, if you like,” he said seductively, kissing your neck and leaving a trail of sparkling gold lipstick on your skin.

“Would that be uncomfortable?” You asked.

“Not at all,” He replied, his kisses moving lower. “I want to look good for you.”

“I’m not a client, Henry,” You said. “You don’t have to work so hard to impress me. I’m already in love with you.”

“That’s good to hear,” He said, his lips against your breast. “But it’s not about wanting to impress you and I don’t see you as a client. I see you as the woman I want to be with. I should put more effort into my time with you than anyone else. I want you to know you’re special to me.”

“You’ve done more than enough to make me feel special,” You said. “I want to return the favor.”

Your hand went into his hair as his tongue swirled around your nipple, and the lower half of his tail moved up around your head. When you turned to look at it, you saw a swollen, puckering slit, normally hidden underneath him as he moved, that he now revealed to you. You pressed your finger along the line, and he moaned against your skin. One of his hands reached down into your pants, into your underwear, and touched you.

You gasped softly at his fingers tickling your slit, you doubled your efforts on his own, moving your head so that your tongue could reach it and licking a slow stripe upward. A strangled, broken grunt came from him.

He continued to undress you slowly and kiss your body, touching you and teasing. You writhed underneath him while sucking at the slit on his body, watching as a bright golden organ slowly peaked its way out, followed by another. You were startled at first, but it was fascinating to watch. You took one in your hand and sucked on the tip of the other, reveling in the sounds that he made.

His lips finally came back up to meet yours, the need in his body evident as he lined one of his cocks up to you, the other resting against your clit. He rose up to look at you.

“Still okay?”

You nodded. “It’s okay.”

He began to push himself inside you, kissing your forehead and cheek as he did so. You gripped his shoulders and held on as he fully seated himself, his second member resting between you. The slit was farther down on his tail, about halfway down, so the position was a little awkward at first, but the two of you pulled each other close and found a rhythm that suited you.

He lifted you up easily, his tail between your legs, undulating into and out of you, and all you could do was hang on for the ride. You moaned, held securely in his arms, his wings flaring out behind him, the light of his bedroom lamp filtering through the feathers like sunlight through clouds.

“I’m so close,” He gasped, picking you up as a flood gushed from the cock you had been riding, splashing against your leg and his tail, before he moved you onto the second one and kept going.

“That’s handy,” You said, also gasping.

“When this one is done, the other one will be ready again,” He said as you bounced on him.

“Oh, god,” You wheezed. “What have I gotten myself into?”

He laughed breathlessly and kissed you again, hitting harder and faster. You felt your own wave coming fast and you began to moan and whimper, not able to control the sounds you made.

Finally, you came, and the rush of ecstasy filled your mind. You lay your head on his shoulder as you dangled in his grasp bonelessly, his tail still moving inside you slowly.

After giving you a moment to recover, he sped up again, and you came again. It might have been hours before the two of you found a stopping point, or more precisely, and exhaustion point. He lay you down in the nest, corset and makeup still on, and the two of you slept in a sweaty pile.

The next morning, he woke up with the makeup smeared across his face and a serious case of bed-head. You laughed.

“What’s funny?” He asked sleepily, smiling at you from the coil of his tail.

“I think I should have taken you up on the offer to help you dress down,” You said. “Let’s get that taken care of.”

You helped him out of his corset and the two of you stepped into the bathroom, three-fourths of which was just the shower. Stepping into the shower, you soaped him down and washed his long body, and he did the same for you. The two of you couldn’t help kissing and giggling and cuddling the whole time.

He ordered in breakfast as you dashed across the hall to fetch some clothes. When you got back, you said, “You didn’t get to record your promo.”

“I can do it tonight,” He said. “Will you help me with it?”

“Of course,” You said. “I’ll be your manager or assistant or whatever you’d like to call me.”

“I’d like to call you my girlfriend, actually,” He said with a smile.

“I like the sound of that,” You replied, hugging him around the waist. “Partners in all things.”

“I like that, too. Speaking of which, I think I might be able to open that second location sooner than I thought.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, if you live with me in my apartment, we can rent out your apartment, and the extra income will help. Two birds, one stone.”

You smiled. “Sounds good to me. As long as I’m with you.”

“Always.”

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Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being a younger Avenger and mentoring Kamala

Kamala Khan x reader

warnings: avengers game spoilers, guns

a/n: so excited about this one; i made y/n just a bit older (and gn!) so that they’re in their mid-early teens during a-day! hope thats okie doke! reader has electrokinesis. this accidentally got really detailed

prompt: anonymous: “Hey there! Would you mind writing HCs for the Avengers Game about female reader being a young Avenger (around 17) and mentoring Kamala Khan?”

you were just a kid yourself when you joined the avengers

and you were an inspiration to kids around the world

“does SHIELD think nothing of child labor laws?” -bruce

the avengers became your family

and seeing what you could do...they knew you could handle yourself

and then a-day happened

the day started off so perfect

and the kids went ballistic over seeing you

“y/h/n! look, it’s y/h/n!”

“can i get a picture?”

“hi, guys! of course you can!”

but there was one kid who stuck out among the rest

kamala khan

“you’re the one who wrote about the sewers, right? i freaking loved it! may i just say your art is amazing?”

“r-really?”

“oh, yeah! and the part where you had thor spin mjölnir to push water towards the sewer lizards so i could shock them? genius!”

she could not wait to tell abu about what you had just said

you obviously took a selfie with her and handed her a little pin with your own “icon” on it

but your world got turned upside down that day

the battle was one you’d never forget

and the fighting with your own teammates afterwards would haunt you for years to come

“what do you know, y/n?! you’re just a kid!” -tony

“oh yeah? im one of the only functioning members of this team!”

“everybody calm down. y/n makes a good point, but—” -nat

“thank you”

“...but there’s some stuff you should leave up to us. you really shouldn’t have to take on so much responsibility” -nat

“she’s right, y/n. this was our fault” -bruce

“are you kidding me?! i’m just as guilty as the rest of you, i’m an equal member of this team! for years we’ve dealt with this together, taken the blame together! what’s changed?”

“y/n...you saw what we did out there. that changed everything...” -bruce

you technically were an inhuman, just not terrigen-based

didnt matter to AIM, they took dr. pym for god’s sake

so you had to run, you were on your own for a while

a long while

you laid low for five years, most boring five years of your life

at least you still had your life, though. it just wasn’t what it used to be

but you got a message one day

“‘tiny dancer,’ huh? my moneys on either nat or tony. nah, tony would have chosen ‘rocket man.’”

you couldn’t be sure, maybe it was just a random shield agent...maybe hank pym? god, this was crazy

the message brought you to, uh, cap’s memorial statue

and there was a young girl arguing with a couple of boys...an inhuman!

you hopped in and saved her, she seemed scared

“hey, kid, you alright?”

“y/h/n? is it really you?”

she seemed vaguely familiar

“are you tiny dancer?”

“no, i thought you might be? they sent you here, too?”

there wasn’t much time to chat, AIM was onto you

you two unfortunately got split up for a minute, but you were practically raised by the notorious clint barton and natasha romanoff, and various other spies

yes, you planted a tracker on her

and met her at the bus stop!

“you found me?”

“that i did, kamala. see, i do remember you”

“that is so cool! i mean—not almost getting killed, or the guy with the big head...”

“what guy? you need to tell me everything”

the whole busride was a bit overwhelming. kamala explained the resistance clues, her powers, her undying admiration for the avengers, you name it

but it made you feel good to know that there were people out there that didn’t hate you

“so what was it like? being the teenage avenger?”

“uh, it was...it was really cool. i felt like i was one-of-a-kind. but sometimes people didn’t take me seriously, it was kind of aggravating”

“yeah, no one takes me seriously either...”

“you know, depending on how this all goes, i might be able to give you a few pointers”

“really?! that’d be great!”

once you got to utah...you saw the chimera

it brought back some bad memories, kamala could tell

“you okay?”

“me? yeah, im good. just thinking...okay, well, do you have a plan on how to get yourself across all of this?”

“actually, i do!”

it was kind of creepy in there, but when you laid your eyes on caps shield, you kind of broke

“do you hear something, what it that?”

“...hulk. kamala, you need to get out of here, i’ll catch up to you, i swear”

she didn’t leave in time, so she got to see the greener side of bruce. you chased him back and tried to get bruce back

meanwhile, kamala found AIM troops...oops

bruce cooled off and man was he doing rough

“y/n, is that really you?”

“yeah, its me. surprise. how long have you been the big guy?”

“too long...a few years”

“jesus, im sorry. i’ll be right back, though. some kid brought me here, i gotta go get her. you kinda scared her off”

she was passed out when you got to her

but bruce is a doctor, he’d figure it out

“i could give her a little shock to wake her up, you know?”

“oh, i know. just let her rest for a minute. she needs it”

“right...well im gonna take a look around, maybe go see what i left behind. i could power the place up, but we’re missing some parts to actually get this thing running. best i can do is lights and doors”

you turned the little things on and turns out did leave a decent amount of stuff in here

your first pair of pistols that nat gave you, the gigantic stein that thor gifted you for your 13th birthday, gadgets tony needed an “extra boost” for *bzzt*, a note from cap that just said “good luck, y/n, you’re going to do great!” you cant even remember what it was he was referring to. you just missed him

kamala walked in while you were shuffling around and cleaning the place up

“hey, dr. banner wanted me to come get you. is this your room?”

“that it is, and it’s a huge mess. this is literally all my belongings ever”

bruce had his plan and you just went along, helping kamala out as you go

“baby steps, kam, don’t want you to pass out. but don’t worry, happens to the best of us” -you

“really? you pass out too?” -kamala

“oh yeah, for sure. tell her bruce, remember that time we had thor overcharge me to literally make me an EMP? and tony was busy listening to music so he wouldn’t get out of the blast radius and his armor shut down? so he was out of commission and i had just collapsed from it all? good times”

“y/n, we thought you died” -bruce

this hc is so long omg — anyways you guys ended up finding tony and it was sort of entertaining but he kinda punched bruce and then hugged you

“you got so big”

“shut up, tony”

you kinda harbored some bad feelings since none of the avengers did anything to help you once they started rounding up inhumans (but you still missed them)

getting attacked again

“okay, kamala, remember what i said about baby steps. dont overdo it. i trust you with this!”

“thank you, y/n! uh—oh my god!”

aaaanyways you went to the ant hill to see hank and pick up some supplies, boy was it great to see some familiar faces, then back the the chimera you went to fix it all up

“can you hold that right there for me, kamala? thanks. i think that just about does it. now i have a surprise for you...your own room!”

you helped kamala get it nice and tidy while talking about each other’s lives, she really did remind you of yourself when you became an avenger. excited, scared, underestimated, all of that. and she begged you to share some mission stories, so you obviously did

“you know, if you stick around for a while, you’re gonna have some cool stories, too. maybe even a kickass costume.”

“oh! a costume, ive got that sorta covered. check it out. a burkini, muslim women wear it for swimming and stuff. my mom got it for me”

“love it. soon we’ll find you a fitting name and update the suit, but seriously, this was the perfect way to go. you look great”

“you think so? i don’t know if i feel that cool. maybe i should try something else?”

“if that’s how you feel, you don’t have to stick to it. you can experiment all you want! but i really think you did awesome on this. come on, pose with me! and hey, i like your pins.”

at this point, you’d do anything for kamala, she reminded you so much of yourself. you would have killed for a mentor your age back in the day.

natasha was in fact tiny dancer...called it

“oh, god, y/n. you’re all grown up...im sorry we left you alone. but if it makes you feel better, i always kept an eye on you”

“well, i kind of took on a protégé...she’s like your grand-protégé. kam, c’mere”

after thor finally came back, everyone started fighting again and ditched, it felt so familiar. but you couldn’t leave kamala behind, you swore to yourself that you couldn’t do that.

she was so good for this team

MODOK was defeated (by kamala herself) but there was so much left to do, tons of threats to extinguish, training to accomplish

“y/n, tony won’t turn his dad rock off! he overrode the speakers in my room”

“oh, it’s on. get chastity’s fabric dye and bleach pens. we’re gonna start some trouble”

she gave you a high five one time and nearly broke your arm

sending each other tiny hand memes

“hey, ms. m, how’re your parents? doing okay without their favorite super-daughter?”

“my abu doesn’t stop texting me actually, says my family is super proud of me. it’s a nice change of pace”

you take her on covert missions for field training, it was Educational(tm)

*elevator music playing* “so...what do you want for dinner? i was thinking we could ask thor to barbecue”

sleepovers in her room that just turn into her showing you her superhero merch, listening to music, prank lists, sneaking off to the HARM room for hand-to-hand combat training and power experiments, thinking up new costume designs

“tip: you always need backup suits, you never know what you’re gonna run into out there. one time tony pushed me into a tower of paint cans and they spilled all over me. steve yelled at him for two hours afterwards. worst mission ever, except steve said ‘motherfucker’ and i have never recovered from the emotions of that day”

“wow, i wish i could have been there for that”

“don’t worry, kami, you’ll see some crazy ‘team bonding’ along the way”

she geeks out about captain marvel sometimes

“hey, i’ve got a book carol gave to me about ‘teens taking responsibility.’ you wanna read it?”

“is it any good?”

“i don’t know, i only read the first two pages”

you ended up having a true heart-to-heart with her after one mission when she made a mistake that nearly cost you guys the mission. you told her that not every mission is going to go perfect, each avenger had slipped up in the field, and she had just started, shes not going to be perfect

“i am literally always here if you need anything. i know what it feels like to be a teenager among legends, but trust me, you’ve made it this far and you’ve proven how much of a badass you are. i know you can take anything that gets thrown at you”

kamala said she makes vegan nachos and yeah she makes vegan nachos

you guys have to hide from the rest of the team when she makes them bc they eat ALL OF THEM

gaff (the SHEILD vendor) has you test his gear, you recommend gear to kamala

you were so excited to guide kamala on her journey of heroism

taglist: @ravenmoore14 // @purpleskiesstorm //

[slashmebois]

Distraction

“Heyyy I wanted to ask for a mini fic of vincent getting distracted form his work by a goofy S/O who wants his attention. He's just precious and deserves a precious S/O who's obsessed with him. 🥺🥺🥺 Thank you! 🖤”

 This is such a cute idea!! I had such a fun time writing this one. Thank you so much for this request <3 Credit to @thesightstoshowyou for their banjo headcanon for Bo

 Vincent was used to people interrupting him. Bo was his main antagonist, tending to require some form of medical attention after each chase. Sometimes Bo would come down to the basement just to nitpick Vincent’s process as he worked with helpful phrases such as “Wouldn’t have done that” and “Is it supposed to look like that”.

Lester wasn’t much better when he was around. Vincent would ask for a moment to wrap up his work, and whilst Lester had the best of intentions- his mouth often got away from him. “Oh man Vince, you’ve gotta see this cool skull I picked up today”, “Vince, you won’t believe what these city slickers said to me”. But Vincent could listen and continue working on his sculptures and paintings regardless. Or he had been able to at least.

Recently he found himself more and more distracted by you. You had rocked up into town a few months ago and wasted no time in making their affections for him clear (once he had saved you from his brothers’ murderous grasps). He was of course smitten with you, the way you talked, the way you looked, the way your smile crept onto your face. By his standards you were a walking piece of art, too beautiful to remain stationery.

So, he had tried to reciprocate your feelings, although he was not bold enough to outright say “hey I’m in love with you, I’d follow you to the ends of the earth. Is that cool with you?” and honestly it would be a mouthful coming from the guy who mostly communicated using ASL and the occasional spoken word. But still, he couldn’t figure out the right way to express himself and every time he started to let himself melt into his work and try to figure it out, you were in the corner of his vision and every logical thought he had died.

But even more than that, he was starting to think you were actively trying to distract him, although he couldn’t quite put a finger on why…

---

You have been trying for days to get Vince to take a break from his work so you can initiate operation date time. But oh man is it hard. Okay sure, he’s starting to take longer to finish his projects, but that is not what you want. You don’t want to slow his process down you just want to spend time with him away from this boiling basement.

The first few days you would just stand at his side and ask about what he was doing and sure he paid attention to you but he kept working. The next few days had been a series of you singing loudly along to his classical opera in shrill tones, before switching the radio over to some popular tunes and repeating. Vincent had eventually got up, and you thought you’d done it, but then he just switched the radio back to classical as you pouted at him. Besides that, you had tried baking for him, reading aloud from a book, playing a very old, out of tune banjo you found (probably Bo’s but you doubted he knew how to play), and doing cartwheels. The last one had spooked Vincent into getting up and catching you, and worriedly dangling you from his arms in mid-air whilst he looked pointedly towards the large boiling pot of wax.

You are just about out of ideas so you go to the only people you can rely on for information on how to distract Vincent- Bo and Lester.

You find Bo in the garage and yell out to him. His hackles rise and he turns round with a gritted smile,

“Please, don’t do that. This was a respectful town before you came along”

You stick your tongue at him and he rolls his eyes, “What do you want? Actually. Let me guess, it has something to do with Vincent hmm?”

You mock gasp, “how did you know, are you a psychic!?!”

He laughs, “Nope, just full o’ shit. C’mon, spit it out already.”

“Well, how would you go about distracting Vincent?”

“I hope you’re not distracting him from his vital work here y/n” you give him puppy dog eyes and he sighs, “alright, alright. I guess he works hard enough. I dunno, play some loud music?”

“Tried that already, what else you got”

“Uhh, have you tried injuring yourself”

“Th…that is the worst idea”

“Alright, okay. No need to get mean. OH!” his loud exclamation makes you jump a little, “how about ruining one of his paintings. That would definitely get his attention”

You fix him a look, “whose side are you even on?”

“My own, do you have to ask? Anyway, that’s all I got- take it or leave it” he waves you off and turns back to…well whatever it is he does in his spare time, don’t know, don’t care.

You groan, you were definitely leaving those ideas alone. You should have known Bo wouldn’t be much help. You start seeking out the other brother in the hopes that they’ll have a better idea.

 Lester is at the edge of town on the other side of the flooding, sat on the back of his truck petting Jonesy.

“Hey Les!”

He looks up and smiles, waving to you, “You stay there, I’ll come over to you. Wouldn’t want you getting your pretty clothes all dirty!”

He hops over, Jonesy in arms and sets her down on the other side. Lester smells about as good as usual, but hell you’ve actually got used to it by now, and you know his job is important so who are you to complain.

“Well hello (miss/sir), what can I help you with today”

“Well I was wondering Les, you know any good ways to distract Vincent. I asked Bo, but his ideas were all dumb”

Lester cackles, “well of course they were, Bo’s just a pretty face when it comes down to it”, you laugh along with him, “Hmm, lemme have a think”

Lester looks around, as if searching for inspiration. His eyes light up, “How about showing his some sorta collection? I show him my knives sometimes, wanna see?”

“Not right now Lester, I’m on a mission. But maybe tomorrow? But that’s actually a pretty decent idea. What else you got, hit me?”

Lester looks a little uncertain.

“Don’t actually hit me Les, it’s a saying”

He looks relieved, “riiight, right. I knew that. Okay, idea number two coming up”, his eyes close tightly shut and he makes a strained noise, “ooh ooh ooh!!! Craft something for him!! I helped him craft those knives he has and he looooves those”

“Lester, you are so much better at this than Bo. Thank you, thank you!!” you grab him in a hug in the excitement, promptly remembering the smell but then deciding fuck it- nothing a shower won’t fix.

 As you head off, Jonesy follows you and Lester motions at you to take her with you. You head back to the house feeling pretty positive. You have some pretty seashells and rocks in a box from various visits to places in your room. Once you’re home you head up and grab the box before heading back down to Vincent.

“Hey Vince, how’s it going?”

He pauses and looks over to give you a thumbs up. You sit on a stool nearby and a take a deep breath before giving your newest plan a go.

“I was just thinking about some trips I went on where I got these cools shells, look at this one, it’s…” you drivel on and Vincent does falter for a moment but keeps his resolve.

Unbeknownst to you, Vincent has a sinking feeling in his stomach. Oh god. You wanted to leave. Why else would you be talking to him about all these trips. Your words were no longer reaching his ears as he could feel the guilt eating away at him. His stomach churned, how was he supposed to fix this. His hands kept moving on autopilot but he’s not really paying attention. It’s not long before his hand slips whilst crafting a nose. He grunts frustrated with himself.

Vincent’s grunt interrupts you, and you trail off the end of a sentence thinking he’s annoyed with you. You look up at him from your box and realise the nose of his latest sculpture is looking pretty wonky. So much for distracting him. All you’ve done is fuck up his work.

“Sorry” you mumble, but he’s too focused on fixing the mistake to hear you.

You sigh and put down your box of shells, walking over to where Jonesy has placed herself. You grab an easel and some paints and lie down next to her, passing time with a fingerpainting project.

Vincent fixes the nose, breathing in relief when it forms properly under his hands. He’s about to gesture to it to show you that VIOLA! He fixed it, but he realises you’re no longer on the stool, the only sign of you the discarded box of shells and rocks. He dejectedly reaches towards it, looking carefully over them. Maybe he should let you go. You clearly loved exploring and this town wouldn’t allow for much of that. His dark thoughts start to descend on him but a warm giggle interrupts him and he glances over to your new location. He nearly gasps at how full his heart is at the sight before him.

Jonesy, not happy with no one paying attention to her, has walked through your paint palette and onto the easel to lick at your face. You laugh and push at her,

“What are you doing? Silly girl. Guess it’s a collaboration piece now!”

The dog ignores any protests and continues to try to grab your attention. Vincent struck by the view makes his way over and kneels, ruffling Jonesy’s ears and glancing towards you.

You look up at him, a little shocked, before smiling wide.

“About time you took a break Vince”

He cocks his head to the side, but lies on his belly with you, looking you deeply in your eyes.

And then he splats a hand in the paint and onto the easel before you can track what the heck he’s doing.

You laugh in surprise, “Oh, really? You wanna be a part of this collaboration?” You gather paint on the tip of your index finger, “that can be arranged” you flash him a cheeky grin and lunge towards him, trying to land the paint on him.

Vincent dodges out the way last minute and thus starts a game of cat and mouse round the house. And Vincent swears he can’t imagine a time when laughter filled the house this much.

[radiant-flutterbun]

Mason’s Brightside Part 2

   Part 1

“No Mason, weird dreams are not a symptom of the herb I gave you last night,” Alaria sighed “If you had listened to me you would know the opposite is true.”

    “No dreams is a symptom?”

    “Yes and so are dehydration headaches so make sure you drink lots of water.”

Alaria shooed Mason outside of the healing den and he nearly crashed into Corkscrew, a spiral.

    “Watch where you’re going!” Corkscrew snarled.

    Mason ignored him and went to get something to drink, his mind however was still thinking about that dream. He’d never been a vivid dreamer. Something about it was so unnatural.

    Evan came up to him later in the day and he described the dream to him.

    “Weird right?”

    “Yeah but sometimes a dream is just a dream. Don’t read too much into it.”

    “But it felt so real!”

    “You sure it’s not… Ya know your mind playing tricks on you?”

    Mason glared at Evan “It wasn’t that.”

    “Sorry, sorry I didn’t mean to imply…” Evan coughed “Maybe you’re just not used to a good night’s sleep is all.”

    Mason thought about that for a moment “That… Ok yeah that I can believe.”

    The next night he was given the same herb from Alaria and he found himself right back at the Emperor’s Wake.

    “Good to see you again Mason,” It was the tundra. They were sitting beside him, so close that Mason could feel their fur on him “Are you on your way?”

    “I-” Mason began and then he snarled “What are you doing in my head?”

    The tundra looked back at him calmly, “You can thank our local dreamwalker for that.”

    “Dreamwalker…?”

    “You’ll be waking soon. I don’t have time to explain. Please come here to the Emperor’s Wake. I’ll explain everything. It’ll be much easier in person, I promise.”

    Mason was about to speak when he found himself awake, sunlight danced across his room. 

    He began to pack his things. It didn’t take long. Being formerly dead, he didn’t have any personal belongings from his world. All he had were just a few art supplies Flare had been kind enough to give him, a simple dagger, a water canister, a few snacks and a blanket. Everything fit neatly in a bag he wrapped over his shoulder.

    He trotted down the stairs from his room and into the clan lobby. He made his way to the main exit when Evan found him.

    “Where are you going?” He asked, seeing the bag.

    Mason sighed “The Emperor’s Wake.”

    “What? Isn’t that where that monster is?”

    “Yep.”

    “And you want to go there?!”

    “Correct.”

    “Why?”

    “Because that’s where the dragons in my dreams told me to go.”

    “So you’re just going to listen to random dream dragons now?”

    “See this is why I was trying to avoid you.”

    Evan looked hurt “You were planning on leaving without telling me?”

    “Because I knew this would happen! I knew you wouldn’t understand! Listen, I've been here before. I know that whoever these dragons are, they're not going to get out of my head until I do what they want me to do.”

    “Hey no offense Mason but the last time you listened to some... thing in your mind you ended up hurting a kid.”

    Mason snarled “He wasn’t just a kid. Don’t oversimplify what Muerto is.”

    “I’m just saying, if you knew that was Match speaking to you, would you still have done the things you did?”

    “Yes. Match is just another self centered god, but at least me listening to him, capturing Muerto, weakening him. Getting him to spill his dirty little secrets. At least that did something! You would have rotted away to nothing and we would have all been trapped in that horrible place until we died. I got the gods’ attention. I changed things!”

    Evan took a deep breath “Ok. Yeah you’re right. But I also don’t have to like what we had to do to get where we are now. Maybe this time we can take some time to think about what we’re getting into before we have to hurt anyone?”

    “We? You want to come with me?”

    “I don’t like the idea of being near that monster, but I hate the idea of letting you go alone even more.”

***

    Mason waited for Evan to pack his things. Like him, it wasn’t much so they were off on their journey soon enough. Evan felt bad leaving without a word so he took the time to leave a note for Nike.

    The two took off and soared over the Sunbeam Ruins in the direction of the area now known as the Emperor’s Wake. Mason had a map with him to help him keep track of their journey. As he flapped his wings he noted how natural flight felt to him. It was strange to him how quickly he picked up the skill. His original body was not one designed for flight and never in a million years would he have guessed he’d eventually become a dragon. Sepulchral had taught him to fly after he had entered the Dragon Planet. Sepulchral was a good teacher, and unlike all of the other Selcouth creatures that were brought to Sornieth, Sepulchral actually had wings back in their world, making him uniquely experienced with flight. But even with such an excellent teacher, Mason felt like he shouldn’t have picked up the skill quite so quickly. It only made it more frustrating that relearning to draw was not as natural to him.

    “Sorry about planning to take off without you,” Mason said after a few miles of silence.

    “Hey, it's cool. No big deal,” Evan responded.

    “What were you going to tell me the other day, by the way? I didn’t mean to brush you off like that. Sorry again.”

    “Oh that?” Evan laughed nervously “That was nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

    Mason glanced at his friend “Alright…” He thought about pushing the subject, but decided to let it go.

    The two flew in silence until it got dark. They camped out in a secluded pine forest for the night and took off again when it was morning. 

    Their flight was uneventful until they flew over a patch of land that was scarred in an unusual way. Most of the Sunbeam Ruins were filled with rolling fields of grass and green pine trees dotted with ruins from a forgotten era. But this patch of land was blackened and dead. It was not burned like a fire found it, rather it looked like a perfect circle of the land just shriveled up and died. Below structures that were not ancient ruins were crushed and destroyed like a tornado ran through the community.

    “What do you suppose happened down there?” Evan asked.

    Mason shook his head “Nothing good probably. Let's keep moving.”

    It wasn’t long before the land began to look more like what Mason saw in his dreams. There were tell-tale signs of destruction, but not quite like the shriveled dead land they had just passed. Mason searched the ground below him and nearly stopped mid flight. There on top of a hill covered in ruins was the same rugged tundra that had spoken to him.

    Mason landed beside them with a thud and Evan landed more gracefully beside him.

    “You!” Mason snarled.

    The tundra smiled and waved “Mason! So good to see you in person. And oh look! You brought a friend.”

    “Why were you in my head? How do you know who I am? What do you want with me?”

    “Holy shit,” Evan was ignoring the tundra and instead his eyes were fixed on the horizon “It’s real.”

    Mason heard a roar and looked up. There in the distance was the rampaging beast, the Emperor Luminax. It was even more horrible than it was in his dreams.

    “Terrifying isn’t it?” The tundra asked, following Mason’s gaze.

    “It’s just… Hard to believe it’s real.”

    “I know. Seeing your first Emperor… It makes you wonder what’s real and what’s fake. But that thing is real alright. It’s destroying lives and the gods are doing nothing about it.”

    Mason snorted “Yeah that sounds about right.”

    “Ah, don’t like gods do you?” The tiny bug dragon from Mason’s dream landed on top of the tundra’s head “I knew this one would fit in well!”

    Mason peeled his eyes away from the undead creature in the distance “Ok, no more talking until you two explain why you were in my head.”

    “Ah that would be Karyu’s doing,” The tundra addressed the bug sitting on their head.

    “How dare you!” Mason lunged forward to swat the bug, but they quickly flew away. Mason ended up hitting the large tundra’s antlers instead. Mason’s hand stung and the tundra glared at him.

    “Maybe instead of threatening my friend, you could sit down and listen.” The tundra shoved Mason to the ground. Mason tried to get back up, but stopped when the tundra gave him another glare.

    Karyu flew back onto the tundra’s head and pointed at Mason “That one tortured a kid god, so I guess I shouldn’t really be too surprised. Still, he has use here.”

    Mason’s eyes widened “How did you-”

    “My name is Perryn,” The tundra cut Mason off and smiled “I’m an Emperor hunter, and my friend Karyu here is a dream walker.”

    “And demigod!” Once again Karyu took off from their perch on Perryn’s head. They circled in the air and as they landed they began to transform. Before Mason’s eyes the little bug dragon grew in size. They spun so fast it forced Mason to blink and with that one blink a new creature was standing where the bug disappeared. Its body was unmistakably human to Mason, but it still had some of the bug features of its dragon form. Antennae sprung up from Karyu’s head and insectoid wings from their back. They wore a long robe and their long purple hair touched the ground. They were still small, Perryn towered over them and so would have Mason if he had been standing, but they were no longer squishable. 

    “My mother is the goddess of dreams for this world, and lucky me, I’ve inherited some of her powers,” Karyu walked up to Mason and poked his snout. He snapped at their fingers “You have the most fascinating dreams out of everyones’ I’ve walked through. So many memories are mixed with yours. Some juicy ones too!”

    “No. You didn’t.”

    “It’s just a shame that lately you haven't been dreaming much. I’m guessing insomnia? Well that’s no good for me or my pals here at The Guild of Osiris! I was afraid if your sleeping patterns continued I would have lost contact with you! And that would have been a real bummer.”

    “Which is why Karyu had to bring me into the picture,” Perryn said “We needed you to come here before they lost contact with you and they thought you would listen to me and not them.”

    “And I was fucking right!” Karyu grinned and then leaned close to Mason and whispered “I just thought Perryn would be more your type. I’m gorgeous, I know, but I’m taken.”

    Mason just stared at Karyu. He opened his mouth and then closed it like a fish out of water.

    “Yes. Karyu was right!” Peryn shouted and then coughed “And now you’re here like we were hoping. Karyu has seen a lot of things about you from their dream walking ,which I know may be awkward and invasive-”

    “You don’t think?” Mason found his voice for a moment.

    “But Karyu has a knack for finding those who are perfect for helping our cause. Mason, is life uncertain to you? Maybe you’ll make a good Emperor Hunter.”

[ladynestaarcheron]

Prompt idea: cassian and nesta’s first disagreement / fight as a couple (if it’s LPG verse i’ll be super happy but it’s up to you how you want to go about it hihi)

anything to make you super happy!! it’s lpg-verse, but you don’t really have to read lpg to understand it. it’s a few months after nesta goes to illyria with cassian.

and hey, has everyone signed up for the fandom-wide holiday gift exchange? it’s gonna be loads of fun and the deadline’s coming up, so please hurry!

---

In his half-millennium of life, Cassian has had plenty of occasions to look back and marvel at the stupidity of his youth. Like how he used to think garish scars and bruises were good ways to show girls he could fight. Or when he thought that he could just sleep off getting blackout drunk. Or when he loved War Week.

It’s not that he hates it, exactly. He may be the General Commander, but he’s still a soldier. Still addicted to the adrenaline of the drills. An intense desire to prove himself, even now, by besting anyone who crosses him in the ring.

But…he is the General Commander. And War Week isn’t just about him giving his all, it’s about ensuring the entire military is in top form. And considering a significant portion of the military just died a few months ago, and another part are actively trying to de-throne Rhys, and the trust he has spent centuries building with these people is falling through...well. It has not been the best week.

It hasn’t been a week, either—it’s the tenth day of this nightmare that it finally ends. All drills have been run, all reports filed, all meetings concluded with the grim confirmation of their worst suspicions: Hybern has weakened them considerably.

And that and all it entails will be there tomorrow morning. So tonight, he can go home, finally, and drown his sorrows…in Nesta.

Just thinking of her tugs his lips upwards. He’s barely slept all this time, always something to do, oversee, correct, and on and on and on, but it’s finally over for just a bit. It’s nearly six in the evening, and the first meeting to discuss reform is tomorrow at eleven, so he has till then with her.

He shivers, not because of the windchill, as he imagines what seeing her again will be like. Has she missed him as much as he’s missed her? Has she planned on welcoming him back into their bed, like he had at every spare moment? Maybe she’s even cooked for him. Maybe duck, like he always makes for her. Perhaps she’s set the table the same way he did on the night he first kissed her—properly, he means, without any imminent existential threat looming over them—with the fine china, like a real homecoming. Maybe she’s dressed up. If she’s dressed up, he should dress up, too. What if she’s laid out clothes for him? She’s always reading about grand romantic gestures, isn’t she? Perhaps she’s been inspired.

Every wild fantasy spurs him faster, and before long he lands at his house, throwing open the door before even setting both feet on the ground.

“Nesta!” he calls, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice. Gods, he’s missed her so much.

But one look inside tells him there’s no romantic dinner awaiting him. There’s only a plate drying on the rack.

Even so, Cassian can’t keep the grin off his face. If Nesta’s not here, then she’s in their bedroom.

On any other day, he might’ve teased her right back and taken his time coming to see her, even made himself dinner until she gave up and came to see him, but it’s been ten very hellish days. He moves quickly to the room, as if participating in one of his drills.

The door’s closed, but he can smell her, feel her, and gives himself just a moment to adjust before he opens it—

Nesta. There, beautiful, alive, in bed, waiting for him, perfect—reading a book. 

She doesn’t look up.

Cassian bites his cheek to keep from grinning. So that’s how she wants to play this.

“Hello, Nesta,” he drawls.

She dutifully ignores him, her dark curls bouncing slightly as she angles her head to the side to flip a page. Oh, how he’s missed this, seeing her read in bed. She sits beside him some evenings, head on his chest, one hand in his, the other holding her book.

“Did you miss me?”

At this, Nesta—finally—acknowledges his presence. She lifts her cool gaze to meet his and holds it for three seconds before looking back down at her book.

Cassian’s grin falters. That wasn’t very fun.

But he saunters up to her anyway, and, laying down on his side, reaches his hand over to slowly crawl up her thigh. “This wasn’t the warm welcome I was expecting, you know.”

Nesta jerks her leg away from him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says, voice icy.

Cassian sits up immediately. This isn’t a game. He looks over her wildly, but her face and posture show only anger.

He reaches his hand out again, tentative, this time, and to hers, not her thigh. “Nesta,” he says, putting as much concern into his voice as he can without her accusing him of being condescending.

“How was War Week?” she shoots at him.

He blinks. “Awful,” he says, smiling uneasily. Has she heard something about it that upset her? He racks his brain, trying to think of what it might be…she knew Rhys was going to be there. Is she upset because they saw each other?

“Are you sure you’ve finished everything?”

He gives up rifling through everything. Nothing’s coming up, and frankly, he doesn’t want to waste anymore of the hours he has to spare with her arguing.

“What are you upset about?” he asks.

Nesta snaps her book shut and straightens her back. She faces him head-on, anger radiating off her like he imagined joy would this night. “You said it would be a week. It’s been ten days.”

Oh.

Right.

“I’m aware,” he says lightly. “It was only meant to go on for a week. But apparently, we’re all completely out of shape. Good news for anyone trying to overthrow the crown,” he adds, touching the tip of her nose. Her glare doesn’t falter, so he continues, in a much softer voice, “Do you really think I enjoyed finding out I had three more days of War Week, when I had planned our reunion out a thousand times in my mind? I wanted—“

“I don’t care what you wanted,” she hisses. “I want to know why I had to find out you weren’t coming back from Emerie instead of from you.”

“I couldn’t come back to tell you—“

“Is the art of letter writing too advanced for your brain to comprehend?”

There’s more than just ire in her stormy grey eyes. Cassian can sense pain, too. “I…I know I should’ve written, but I was just so busy. There was always something—and you know how stupid Illyrian males are, don’t you?” he says with a grin. “And obviously, you like it a lot, but I was never particularly into—“

“Is everything a joke to you?” she demands.

Cassian shuts his mouth. She hasn’t been angry at him like this since…before they started this—thing between them. These past few months have been so easy. Blissful. She doesn’t get mad anymore, only vaguely irritated, and even then, only to give him reason to appease her. But this is an argument. A fight.

How did they resolve those before they got together? Cassian can’t remember ever emerging victorious; only miserable and angry. Nesta’s favour is earned through months of good behavior alone.

But he doesn’t have months. He only has fourteen hours before he has to leave.

“Of course not,” he says, voice low. “It’s just I’ve missed you so much—“

“And how do you think I felt?”

There’s that pain again, etched more clearly on her face now. It thins out her cheeks and tightens her jaw.

“Do I even matter to you? Or do you think you can just waltz in and out as you please and—“ Cassian cuts her off with a tight grip on her hands.

“Don’t say things like that,” he says, serious. “You know what you are to me.”

“You couldn’t find the time to send word you were going to be three days late,” she says, not trying to break out of his hold but not pulling him closer, either. She bites her lip for a moment, hesitating, before she says, “And you haven’t even apologized.”

He goes through their conversation quickly in his mind and swears inwardly. “I’m sorry, Nesta,” he says. “For being late and for not telling you and for not apologizing right away.”

Nesta’s shoulders relax slightly and she pulls her hands away from him to clasp them tightly in her lap. “Well, I don’t want to forgive you.”

This, he decides, is not the right time to suggest all the ways he can make it up to her. Instead he moves closer, and says, “I didn’t write because I was sure I would be here. I spent every second of the overtime doing everything I need to so that I could come back as fast as possible. I didn’t think things would keep coming up, and each time they did, I was sure that it would be the last.”

“Well,” Nesta says, “you’re very ill-prepared for war.”

Cassian grins. “You can see why we needed the extra practice.”

“Hmph,” she says, not smiling. “For future reference…don’t ever do that again.”

“I won’t,” he says immediately. “I promise.”

This calms her considerably, and she leans back against the headboard. “All right, then,” she says, prim. “You’re forgiven.”

His heart skips a beat. His next breath of air feels cooler, more refreshing, somehow. He hadn’t realized just how anxious this has made him. But he doesn’t tell her, doesn’t thank her, worried of what he might say and how she might react. So he puts a hand on her thigh again. “Are you sure you don’t want to hear any of my other reasons? They’re very convincing.”

“No,” she says decisively. “But you can start proving your worthiness right now.”

He grins again, and then he does.

Later, tracing lines up and down her stomach, he says, “You know, you were only angry because you missed me so much.”

Nesta sniffs. “I most certainly did not.”

And there’s the game he’s been waiting for. Definitely worth the extra three days. Although he’ll never catch her off guard like that again. Besides, Nesta’s far more fun to play with when she’s the one setting the rules, anyway.

[heyiwrotesomethings]

Drawn to You

Nejire Hado x Fem Reader A/N: Hello again! I’ve had this done in August so it’s kind of old. I guess one possible warning for this oneshot is mention/ flashback of a bad relationship where the ex was dismissive and cruel with their words. It’s in italics if you want to skip that part. Other than that, I hope you enjoy, Nejire is such a sweetheart!

Quirk: Art-senal (like arsenal but art lol) draws something and makes it come right out of whatever surface that was drawn on! The drawback (hehe) is that carpal tunnel and general nerve pain and numbness of the hands will occur, causing your hands to become immobile after a certain point. ***

When rumors of a transfer student started floating through the class of 3-A, Nejire could not have been more excited. Mirio happily chatted with her, sharing guesses about what their new classmate would be like while Tamaki listened quietly. When their teacher appeared, everyone shot back into their desks and waited for them to introduce the prophesied new student. “Good morning class,” their Sensei greeted warmly. “You are all looking rather excited this morning, so I see that word has moved down the grape vine about the new student joining us,” they directed their attention to the door. “You may come in now.” The rumbling sound of hushed conversation began as the student entered the classroom and Nejire was at the edge of her seat with a billion questions already burning at the tip of her tongue as her eyes took in the new girl as she stood beside the teacher in front of the class. “Introduce yourself to your classmates, please,” the teacher asked, after a few moments of silence. “I’m (Y/n), it’s nice to meet all of you,” (Y/n) answered softly. So softly, Nejire almost didn’t hear her, and she was in the second row closest to the front. “Uh, some people like to say a little about themselves too. Have anything you want to share for the class to get to know you better?” The teacher asked. After a moment's pause, Nejire heard a very quiet “no” fall from (Y/n)’s lips as the girl kept her gaze trained to the floor. “A kindred spirit,” Tamaki mumbled from Nejire’s side.

“Ah, well then, feel free to take that open space in the back and welcome to class 3-A,” the teacher smiled sheepishly. (Y/n) brushed passed Nejire on her way to the back of the class and Nejire smiled sweetly and offered an excited wave. (Y/n) gave a smile in return, though it looked more like a grimace as she made it to the window seat in the back of the room about three more rows directly behind Nejire. As class began, Nejire wished she had a quirk that would give her eyes on the back of her head so she could stare back at (Y/n) and try to learn more about her. Like with any other student she came in close proximity to, she wanted to know everything. Her quirk, her favorite color, where she transferred from, what her family was like, what she likes to eat... really just anything and everything. When the bell finally rang after their fourth class, Nejire practically leapt from her seat and walked over to (Y/n)’s desk. “Hi there! I’m Nejire, nice to meet you,” Nejire greeted the girl as (Y/n) hastily closed her notebook. “Hi,” (Y/n) replied, quietly. “Where did you come from? What’s your quirk? Why did you come to UA? What’s-“ “Whoa there, Nejire!” Mirio laughed. “I think you came on a bit too strong there.” “What do you mean?” Nejire asked, giving him a puzzled look before turning back to the now empty desk. She turned back to the door just in time to see a flash of (h/c) hair disappear around the corner. “Wow, that was fast! Maybe some kind of speed quirk? I need to follow her and ask!” “I think she needs some space Nejire. She’s probably overwhelmed being in a new school with new people and being far away from home... I can only imagine how terrible that would be,” Tamaki shuddered. “Sounds like she could use a few friendly faces to make the transition easier,” Mirio grinned. “She probably went to the cafeteria to get lunch. Let’s see if we can get her to sit with us.” “Great idea, Mirio!” Nejire clapped. “Let’s get going, no time to waste!” The Big Three scanned the cafeteria, but (Y/n) was nowhere to be found. Nejire tried to quell her disappointment as she, Mirio, and Tamaki started eating. She soon regained her usual cheer, offering some food for Tamaki to try with his quirk as Mirio marveled at the possible applications a ramen noodle arm. When they returned to the classroom, (Y/n) was already back in her seat, looking out the window with a dazed look on her face. “Hey, (Y/n)!” Nejire greeted, startling the girl by kneeling in front of her with her arms folded over (Y/n)’s desk. “We were looking for you at lunch. You should totally sit with us tomorrow, it’ll be a lot of fun!” “Um, I don’t know,” (Y/n) mumbled, shifting her eyes nervously. “Hado, get in your seat please, class is starting,” “You got it, Sensei!” Nejire beamed. “Next period is quirk training and we’re sparring today. You should partner up with me,” she quietly told (Y/n) before making her way back to her desk. Nejire couldn’t help but glance back every now and then, flashing the new girl a dazzling smile every time their eyes met. When they made eye contact, (Y/n) would quickly jerk her head down toward her desk and nervously scratch her pencil into her notebook. Nejire wished she could see what she was doing, the movements didn’t seem to match routine note taking and it was fueling her curiosity even further. She just couldn’t wait until quirk training! “Hado! Face forward, please. You are being very distracting,” Sensei chided. “Sorry!” Nejire laughed sheepishly along with most of the class as she faced forward in her chair. She briefly wondered if (Y/n) had laughed too and thought about what it would sound like. Her own smile grew at the thought and she added it to her growing mental list of inquisitions. When class was over, she was held back by her Sensei for a minute for a light scolding. “Just because you are one of the top three students, doesn’t mean that you should be slacking off or distracting others, Hado. Please try to focus during your lessons.” “Sorry, Sensei! I’ll work harder,” Nejire smiled. “I better get to quirk training now or someone will snatch up my partner, bye!” Before her Sensei could object, Nejire darted out of the room and headed towards the locker rooms. She quickly navigated the space and weaved through the other girls changing their clothes to where (Y/n) was changing in the furthest corner. “There you are!” She cheered, causing (Y/n) to jump and quickly finish pulling her workout uniform top over her head. “I’m so excited to see your quirk! This is going to be so much fun!” Nejire continued to speak as she began changing into her own workout sweats. When she finished pulling her shirt over her head, (Y/n) was no longer in front of her. She swiveled her head and watched her scurry toward the exit. “Wait for me, (Y/n)!” Nejire called, adjusting her sweatpants as she skipped over to the fleeing girl. “You sure move fast. Is it part of your quirk?” She asked, poking (Y/n) in the back. “No, it’s not,” (Y/n) mumbled as they walked into the gym, thumbing over the pages of her notebook anxiously. “Hm? Why did you bring a notebook? Taking notes? How will you find time to do that while sparring? Are you sure you don’t have a speed quirk?” She asked tugging at (Y/n)’s sleeve. “I... the notebook is for my quirk-“ (Y/n) answered before Nejire invaded her personal space further, getting very close to her face. “Really? What do you use it for? Tell me!” Nejire demanded, bouncing on her heels and nearly knocking heads with (Y/n)’s. “I draw things,” the girl squeaked, taking several steps back from Nejire to no avail as the girl simply closed the distance without a second thought, her eyes blazing with an inquisitive fire that longed to be fed more fuel. “You draw and then what happens?” Nejire continued, matching each step (Y/n) took back with one of her own going forward until (Y/n) hit a wall on the other side of the training grounds and was quite effectively pinned. “I, um, swipe at the drawing and, uh, it’s like a replica of whatever I drew,”(Y/n) replied, her eyes shifting to look anywhere but the eyes of Nejire boring into her face, absorbing every word that left her lips. “Sounds neat! Will you show me? Like, before we spar? I want to see!” (Y/n)’s voice seemed to give out from all the attention Nejire was giving her so she simply nodded. Her hands shook as she flipped to a clean page and penciled in a quick sketch of an oak tree with a practiced hand. Nejire watched with rapt attention as (Y/n)’s fingers ran over the drawing and swiped outward, launching the sketch off of the page. Nejire grinned, watching the tree take shape and tower over them. It almost looked real, but there was a sculpted look to it that made it look like something right out of a fantasy novel. She looked back to (Y/n) and tugged on her sleeve. “That’s beautiful, (Y/n)! What a fun quirk! My quirk is Wave Motion, it looks like this,” Nejire released a spiral wave of energy from her hand and they watched it flow forward until it eventually died out. “Pretty cool, right? My waves may be slow, but they’re super strong,” Nejire explained. “Girls, please, I don’t mind a little constructive discussion, but do some actual sparring as well,” “We’ll get started now, sorry!” Nejire waved off the disgruntled teacher before turning back to (Y/n) with renewed vigor. “Okay (Y/n), time to show me what you’ve got!” (Y/n)’s hands shook a bit as she brought her battered notebook to her chest. A nervous sweat gathered at her brow as she watched Nejire drop into a fighting stance. Luckily, her previous training didn’t fail her and she quickly dodged Nejire’s kick in her direction. (Y/n) drew a brick wall to hide herself momentarily from Nejire’s sight. It was quickly destroyed however, by Nejire’s spiraling energy quirk. (Y/n) tumbled out of the way, quickly sketching a barrage of sparrows, the lack of detail causing them to look more like flying scribbles as they broke apart upon impact with Nejire’s swinging arms. It was enough of a distraction to allow (Y/n) to take cover behind the tree she had made only minutes before and she quickly got to work on a clone to further distract Nejire. (Y/n) could already feel her fingers begin to numb from so many consecutive drawings so she needed a bit of time to recoup. She sent out her self-portrait and watched as the mindless double ran awkwardly away. The “people” were always weird, sure they looked human enough, but the mannerisms were always off and any attempt at speech sounded like a garbled mess of nonsense. They were best suited as decoys more than anything. The clone did its job, Nejire ran after it, aiming a few wave blasts at it as she trailed behind and quickly started gaining ground. (Y/n) took the time she bought herself to stretch her wrists and fingers, trying to combat the numbness and aching settling in her hands. She was so preoccupied that she failed to notice the figure hovering over her with the help of swirls of energy gathered at their feet. “Boo!” “Ah!” (Y/n) was tackled to the ground by Nejire. Her notebook was knocked from her hands as Nejire’s hands forced her arms up over her head and Nejire laughed victoriously. “I got you! Nice try with that clone deception but it got kind of droopy and fell apart quickly. You need to be pretty quick and stealthy to use your quirk, huh? Can you make drawings in advance or do they need to be fresh? I think if you had things queued up it would be very useful!” Nejire spoke excitedly, her body still straddled over (Y/n)’s as she chattered away. “Can you get off, please?” (Y/n) mumbled, trying to create some semblance of space between herself and Nejire. “Oh right, I should do that shouldn’t I? Wouldn’t want Sensei to think we’re slacking off,” Nejire smiled. She stood and pulled (Y/n) up with her before kneeling momentarily to retrieve (Y/n)’s notebook from the ground. (Y/n) almost had a heart attack when Nejire began casually flipping through the pages. “Please don’t look in there,” (Y/n) quickly asked, pulling the pages out of Nejire’s hands so fast the other girl almost didn’t register it leaving her grasp. “Hm? Come on (Y/n), let me see!” Nejire giggled, playfully pawing at (Y/n)’s hands that tightly gripped her notebook. By the grace of All Might, the bell rang and (Y/n) ran to the locker room, but with Nejire hot on her heels. “Hey, wait up, (Y/n)! Tell me more about the intricacies of your quirk!” (Y/n) ignored her and made her way into the locker room, changing quickly back into her uniform as Nejire babbled beside her completely unaware of the affect she was having on the transfer student. “Hey, hey, (Y/n)? Are you doing anything after school? I have today off from my work study and we could totally hang out and I’ll show you around!” Nejire asked, casually threading her arm through one of (Y/n)’s as they exited the locker room dressed in their uniforms. “Mirio won’t be able to come, but I bet I could convince Tamaki to come along. What do you think, (Y/n)?” (Y/n) shuddered and tried to discreetly pull herself out of Nejire’s grip but the girl with the powder blue hair persisted with her hold. (Y/n)’s gaze shifted uncomfortably between Nejire and the ground beneath their feet as they made their way back to their classroom. “I don’t know, I was going to continue to unpack and settle into my room,” she finally answered after a bit of deliberation. “Oh! Well, I could help with that,” Nejire said, unperturbed. “Tamaki would probably prefer staying in the dorms anyway. Besides, it’ll be easier to talk without any added distractions,” “You really don’t need to help me,” (Y/n) added. “I usually work better by myself.” “It would be no trouble at all! We could order some take out too. I know a great place that does delivery,” (Y/n) felt her eye twitch. She had only been at UA a day. What had she even done to garner such attention? The only reason she transferred was to get some space after breaking up with her ex and with this girl, space seemed like the last thing she was going to get. It also didn’t help that (Y/n) found the girl to be extremely attractive and left her absolutely tongue tied. (Y/n) was honestly surprised Nejire hadn’t given up on her yet, she hadn’t exactly been friendly or sociable. “So?” (Y/n) was jolted from her thoughts as Nejire gently nudged her elbow into (Y/n)’s side. “What do you think?” Ah, what the hell? “Alright,” (Y/n) sighed, flinching when Nejire cheered and hugged her tightly. “We are going to have so much fun! I can’t wait!” Nejire hummed, pulling (Y/n) back into the classroom. “Yeah, can’t wait...” *** (Y/n) couldn’t escape Nejire even if she tried, and she did try. At the end of the day, Nejire practically flew to her side with her bag packed and ready to head to the dorms. “Lead the way, (Y/n). Ready for the most awesome sleepover ever?” Nejire grinned. “Sleepover?” (Y/n) questioned. “Oh! Good luck with Nighteye’s patrol tonight, Mirio!” Nejire waved, seemingly too distracted to answer to (Y/n)’s confusion. “Say hi to Fat Gum for me, Tamaki!” “I wasn’t even supposed to be in today,” Tamaki sighed. “Something serious must have come up, nothing good can come from this.” “Don’t worry, Tamaki! You’ll do great like always!” Mirio smiled, patting his friend warmly on the back, making a small smile form on Tamaki’s lips. “See ya tomorrow Nejire, (Y/n), have fun tonight!” “Will do!” Nejire cheered, flashing a thumbs up before dragging (Y/n) out of the school and veered off into the direction of the third year dorms. “Oh yeah, I was going to let you lead, wasn’t I?” Nejire giggled. “You did say that. You also said something about a sleepover?” (Y/n) reminded, hoping to gain some clarity into the situation. “Mhmm, it just makes sense. The boys are at their work studies so it’s a great time for a girl’s night,” “But, don’t you think we need to know each other a bit better before having a sleepover?” “But that’s what the sleepover is for, (Y/n), to get to know you better! Now come on, we’re wasting daylight!” “But it’s a school night,” (Y/n) whined, grasping at yet another excuse to give her a moment of peace. “Don’t worry, we won’t stay up too late. A good night’s sleep is important after all,” (Y/n) rolled her eyes and rubbed one of her temples, watching Nejire skip ahead to open the main door and usher her inside. She hadn’t transferred here to make friends, she transferred to be alone, to be left in peace in a place where no one knew her. To try to get over her breakup and move on with her life and with it all still fresh in her mind, she really didn’t want to be with this intrusive, albeit sweet, girl. “(Y/n)! Our rooms are in the same hallway,“ Nejire clapped. “How convenient!” She smiled, tapping a door a few meters away on the other side of the hall from where (Y/n) was standing. “I suppose it is,” (Y/n) grimaced, unlocking her own door and flicking on the light. “Oooo,” Nejire rested her chin on (Y/n)’s shoulder, causing the girl to freeze up a bit. “A bit cluttered, isn’t it? You didn’t have much time to get settled in after all. Good thing I’m here to help!” “Mhmm,” (Y/n) hummed distractedly, moving over to the closet to finish hanging up her clothes that she had left on the bed earlier that morning. She quickly fell into a rhythm, listening to each clack of the hangers as they hit the metal bar. “So, where should this go?” Nejire asked, suddenly appearing beside (Y/n) with a folded wooden structure in her hands. “Oh, be careful with that, it belonged to my grandmother. Just put it in the corner closest to the window please,” “What is it?” “An easel. You know, for holding up canvases for painting and such,” (Y/n) replied, gesturing with one hand as her mind tried to put her thoughts in a coherent sentence. “Neat! I couldn’t tell with it all folded up like this,” Nejire said, placing the wooden structure in the corner. “How about these plastic bins, wow! Is this all paint!?” (Y/n) turned and scratched sheepishly at the nape of her neck. “Yeah, I kind of have a bad habit of buying art supplies when...” I’m sad “When I don’t necessarily need them,” she finished after a brief pause. “Do you paint a lot? Did you bring any of your paintings here? Can you show me?” Nejire bounced, scanning around the pile of belongings hopefully. “I brought a couple small ones to hang, they’re in that blue portfolio case,” (Y/n) informed. Nejire scooped up the case and carefully slid out the first thin canvas. The painting was a lovely fall scene where the trees were alight with fiery orange and red leaves with dashes of yellow. The earth below the trees was a rich brown dashed with occasional bursts of color from fallen leaves. Winding through the wood was a babbling stream, water was twisting and weaving with the rocks that were caked in wet leaves and highlighted where the sun peeked through the trees, the beautiful blue water contrasted the scenery in a way that Nejire found absolutely enchanting. “This is amazing, (Y/n)!” Nejire praised, causing (Y/n) to turn and continue to fidget with the clothes she was hanging. “Can your quirk work on these?” She asked as she pulled the other canvases out of the portfolio and appraised every detail. “Mmm, possibly. I can use any medium with my quirk, but I’ve not quite gotten the hang of putting such detailed works into reality. They usually melt away and leave a big mess,” “Do you think I could watch you paint sometime?” (Y/n) was rather surprised that Nejire had asked. “You would really be interested in that? It’s kind of a long process... I’ve been told it’s actually pretty boring,” “Hm? No way, I’d totally be down to watch! I know I may seem a bit antsy, but I know how to entertain myself,” Nejire said, setting up some command strips to hang the art from. “Who told you that painting was boring anyway?” (Y/n) fumbled with her bed sheets as an image of her ex flashed in her mind. She remembered the way their nose would crinkle at the smell of fresh paint. She used to think it was cute, but the memory now left bitter taste in her mouth.

~~~ ‘Just because you have an artsy quirk, it doesn’t mean you need to waste your life on this junk. Come on, let’s actually do something worth our time,’ they smiled as if they hadn’t just said something hurtful. ‘Oh, well, we’ve been going out a lot lately. I actually haven’t been able to paint or draw outside of training for a couple of weeks so I was hoping maybe we could have a night in and we could make dinner or order in, talk, have a show on while I paint-‘ (Y/n) was cut off by a groan as their then partner flopped onto the couch. ‘You know, when I first asked you out I thought I’d find more,��� ‘...What do you mean?’ ‘You’re just so plain, if I had known before that what I see is what I’d get, I probably wouldn’t have bothered,’ (Y/n) felt like hot needles were crawling inside her throat and she gripped her paintbrush tightly. ‘But we’re stuck with each other now, can’t help looking back on the past I suppose,’ they sighed. ‘Guess I’ll text the gang to tell them you flaked again,’ ‘Don’t bother,’ They looked up from their phone, slight surprise morphed into a cocky smugness that made (Y/n)’s head pulse. ‘Ah, I knew you’d come around, babe-“ ‘Tell them I flaked yourself, because I’m not going and I don’t want you here anymore,’ ‘What are you saying?’ They scoffed, rising from the couch. ‘Just a minute ago you were begging for me to stay, now you want me to leave?’ They laughed humorlessly. ‘Is this because I jabbed at you for being boring and predictable? Nice one, you got me. Now put on some shoes, we’ll be late,’ ‘It’s not a joke, take your stuff and leave. I’m done. I’m not going to stand here and let you belittle me anymore!’ (Y/n) proclaimed. ‘You wish you could find something more in me, well, I wish I knew what I was getting into upfront with you so I would have never agreed to go out with you!’ She snapped. ‘Don’t say anything you can’t take back, you’re being crazy-‘ ‘Go!’ (Y/n) threw the brush in her hand, green paint streaked down the ex’s shocked face before the brush slid to the floor. ‘Fine! Have fun being alone the rest of your life, I was the only shot you had and you just blew it!’ They screeched, before turning and stomping out of the room. A few moments later, (Y/n) heard the front door slam shut and she felt like all her energy had been drained from her as she threw herself on the couch. When her guardian got home later that day she asked them where that transfer scholarship for UA was and filled it out with no preamble. Managing to send it out mere hours before the deadline. ~~~ “(Y/n)?” (Y/n) gasped at the sudden pressure of Nejire’s hand on her back. “Yes? Sorry, I was somewhere else I guess,” “No problem, what were you thinking about?” She asked curiously. “Nothing really,” (Y/n) shook her head, “Want to help me set up the tv?” “Are you kidding? Did you forget that I’m here to help you? Of course I’ll help!” *** At some point Nejire found the time to order the take out and the two ate while making a few finishing touches to the room. Light music weaves through the space, often broken by Nejire making comments or asking questions and (Y/n) found herself not minding at all, answering all of the inquiries honestly. Once everything was in place, Nejire darted out of the room to change clothes for the night while (Y/n) tried to find something to watch on tv. “I’m baaaaaack!” Nejire sang, jumping into the bed and causing a ripple effect that nearly caused (Y/n) to slip off of her perch on the edge of the bed. “Ooo! How it’s Made is on, can we watch How it’s Made?” “Sure,” (Y/n) affirmed, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. They settled in under the covers and Nejire talked over the show, adding her own commentary and questions she longed to be answered about the intricacies of making ketchup. (Y/n) found herself not minding, however. In fact, she found it rather entertaining, endearing even. She never expected to share her space with a virtual stranger, much less her bed. (Y/n) had to commend Nejire for her persistence as she wondered to herself just how long Nejire would stick around. Just as her eyes drifted shut, they opened in a flash as her cellphone began to ring on the bedside table. “Who’s calling you? Family? Friend?” Nejire asked through a yawn, apparently she was only moments from sleep as well. The way she was curled up in her own hair at (Y/n)’s side practically in a cocoon of her own design was incredibly cute. “Sorry, I’ll take care of it,” (Y/n) sighed and reached for the phone. All sense of tiredness left as soon as she registered who was calling her and in a panic she declined the call and tossed her phone back on the bedside table. “Why didn’t you answer it? Who was it, wrong number?” Nejire asked, shifting closer. “Wrong number,” (Y/n) answered quickly before laying back down. It could have almost been left at that, except the phone started ringing again. “They don’t seem to think so,” Nejire observed. (Y/n) turned on her side and reached for the phone and once more declined the call, only to immediately receive a third call. This time, Nejire reached over (Y/n) and took the phone herself. “Hello, may I ask who is calling?” Nejire yawned again, resting her head on (Y/n)’s shoulder. (Y/n) laid there absolutely dumbstruck, listening to Nejire’s side of the conversation she was having with (Y/n)’s ex. “Who am I? I’m Hado. It’s rather late, (Y/n) and I are trying to sleep. You want to talk to (Y/n)? Well, she doesn’t seem to want to talk to you. Do you know why that may be?” “I don’t know, I’ve only known (Y/n) for a day, but I’m sure she has perfectly acceptable reasons for not wanting to speak with you,” “No need to be so rude. If this is how you conduct yourself it’s no wonder (Y/n) broke up with you,” “Hey, do us a favor and don’t call back, okay?” Nejire replied sweetly to whatever retort the ex fired at her before hanging up and putting the phone back down. Then she snuggled back into (Y/n) and sighed pleasantly, seemingly content even after the phone call. “G’ night, (Y/n),” Nejire mumbled, her voice muffled from where her face was buried into (Y/n)’s shoulder. “That’s all you have to say? Good night?” (Y/n) found that hard to believe. “I’m sorry that you had a partner like that. I’ll treat you the way you deserve to be treated, much better,” came the sleepy reply. “What are you even saying?” (Y/n) pushed, her neck and cheeks growing warmer with each passing moment. The only reply she received was the sound of faint snoring. *** Over the next few months, Nejire and (Y/n) seemed to be attached at the hip. Quite literally in some cases as Nejire loved to cling to (Y/n)’s arms or hang off her back. (Y/n) got acquainted with Tamaki and Mirio and quickly stepped in a rhythm with The Big Three that made it look like they had all been friends for years. Before long, (Y/n) was feeling much better in her new environment and Nejire was beyond pleased to see (Y/n) smile and laugh so freely. “Hey, hey, (Y/n), I’m going to be patrolling with Ryuko but do you want to hang out when I get back?” Nejire asked after class one day. “Sure, come by whenever,” (Y/n) smiled. She found it rather exhilarating how effortless her relationship friendship! with Nejire seemed to be. Of course communication was key, once (Y/n) came out of her shell, Nejire’s endless chatter became a lot less one sided. They learned a lot about each other’s likes, dislikes, and general attitudes and behaviors and sometimes even seemed to know what the other was thinking without speaking. A talent that that kind of freaked Tamaki out. “Great! See you later then, bye!” Nejire swooped in for a quick hug before gliding off to catch a transit Ryuko’s agency. “Bye!” (Y/n) waved back before heading towards the dorms. Despite how well they were communicating, they never did discuss that phone call awhile back which (Y/n) thought was odd. However, she certainly wasn’t going to bring it up. She’d be happy never to talk about her ex ever again and since they hadn’t tried calling back since that night, (Y/n) felt lighter than she felt in a long time. She smiled to herself before heading towards the dorms, deciding to paint while she waited for Nejire to return. *** It was getting late, though (Y/n) wasn’t too worried. Being a hero in training is often unpredictable and being worked overtime, even for work study, was not an unusual occurrence. It just gave (Y/n) more time to finish up her latest painting, a close up look into a lively tide pool. She was making this particular scene to commemorate the day she had gone out to the ocean with Nejire, Tamaki, and Mirio a week prior and she was planning on giving the finished product to Nejire as thanks for, well, everything. (Y/n) continued to hum along to the light music as she continued to stroke more detail into the piece before her, striving to make it one of her best works yet. Her fingers faltered before she reached the canvas again, a loud thump sounded from the other side of the door, followed by a heavy sliding noise. (Y/n) paused her humming and set her brush and paint down carefully before cautiously approaching the door. Her eyebrows scrunched in confusion as she looked out of the peep hole to find no one standing there. She was about to head back to her canvas when she heard a weak knock coming from a lower position on the door. With a bit of apprehension, (Y/n) unlocked the door and opened it, causing Nejire to fall half into the room as her balance was disrupted. Nejire groaned but smiled all the same, looking dead tired in her scuffed up hero outfit. “Hey (Y/n), work sure was crazy today,” Nejire coughed, looking up at (Y/n) from her spot in the ground. “Nejire!” (Y/n) gasped. “You look hurt. Did Ryuko really let you come back to the dorms like this? Come on, let’s get you to Recovery Girl at least!” (Y/n) said with mild panic before beginning to tug the other girl into a sitting position. “No need to worry, (Y/n). I’m just tired from over exhausting my quirk. I’ll be back one hundred percent after some rest,” Nejire assured, however, the wince she made when (Y/n) helped tug her up did not go unnoticed. “Come on then, I’ll do what I can,” (Y/n) guided Nejire over to her bed and helped her sit. “What injuries do you have?” “Injuries? What injuries?” Nejire laughed, running her fingers nervously through her hair. “Nejire,” (Y/n) warned causing the other girl to pout before peeling off the top half of her hero costume so it fell around her hips, displaying the bruises that were littered across her arms. “Nejire!” (Y/n) exclaimed loudly. “Those look awful, you should really have gone to Recovery Girl or had Ryuko take you somewhere,” “But I was excited to see you,” Nejire whined. “I-“ (Y/n) took a moment to clear her throat and tried to fight back the warmth that flooded through her chest at her friend’s admission. “I’m not going anywhere, you can take your time to take care of yourself first in the future. I don’t like seeing you hurt and what if you had passed out somewhere trying to get back?” “I’m sorry, (Y/n),” Nejire frowned. “You don’t need to apologize, I was just worried, okay? Now, let me whip something up quick for those bruises,” (Y/n) grabbed a sketchbook off of her nightstand and flipped to a blank page as she took a seat next to Nejire. She was so focused on accurately drawing the medicine that she barely registered Nejire leaning into her side to watch her with sleepy eyes. When (Y/n) was happy with the details she swiped over the page and gabbed the newly formed jar of salve before it hit the ground. “You’re quirk is so useful, (Y/n),” Nejire complimented, pushing herself in a straighter position to accept the medicinal salve that was being held out to her. “Ah, thanks,” (Y/n) shrugged, suddenly hyper aware of how close she and Nejire were. “Anyway, rub that into your arms and it should help you from being too sore tomorrow. Then I’ll help you get in your room,” “Aww, but I want to stay with you,” Nejire yawned, rubbing the slave into her arms. “Ooo, chilly,” “Nejire-“ “Please, (Y/n)?” Nejire pleaded. “I require hugs to heal. Also, could you look at my back? I think it might be bruised too,” “First, you do not need hugs to heal and second, yes, I’ll give it a look,” (Y/n) stared in disbelief as Nejire turned, revealing a large bruise right below her sports bra. “Nejire, that’s a huge bruise! What even happened during patrol?” “Just a ragtag group of common villains, really. Nothing much apart but very distracting to fight them all at once,” “Still, this is a deep bruise, I wouldn’t be surprised if you fractured a rib. We are going to Recovery Girl tomorrow,” (Y/n) said, leaving no room for argument as she gently rubbed the salve over Nejire’s back. “Aww, you care about me,” Nejire giggled, craning her head back to rest it against (Y/n)’s chest. “Yes, I do,” (Y/n) replied, turning her face away to hide her probably beyond obvious heart eyes. “I care about you too,” Nejire replied, candidly. She turned over to hug (Y/n) tightly around the shoulders, her eyes catching the swirling blue, white, and green on the easel in the corner. “(Y/n)! Are you painting tide pools? So cool!” She got up and stumbled over to the painting. “Careful, Nejire! You really should be resting,” (Y/n) scolded, following close behind. “It’s beautiful, (Y/n).” Nejire praised. “I’m glad you think so. I was planning on giving it to you when I was finished,” (Y/n) smiled shyly. “Aw, really? (Y/n), you’re too sweet! Whoa, little woozy still,” Nejire stumbled backwards, but (Y/n) managed to still her. “Come on, you need to lay down,” (Y/n) said, half dragging Nejire back to the bed. “Woooo, the room is spinning!” Nejire laughed, flopping onto the bed and taking (Y/n) down with her. “Nejire!” (Y/n) admonished, face blazing as Nejire continued to giggle and hold her close. After a bit of struggling, (Y/n) finally gave in with a huff and allowed Nejire to snuggle to her heart’s content. Music was still played in the background and Nejire’s breathing had slowed to a point that (Y/n) believed her to be sleeping. (Y/n) sighed under Nerije’s weight, absently running her fingers through Nejire’s hair before remembering she had just been painting. “Shoot!” She hissed, raising her hand to her face. A bead of sweat glossed over her cheek as she observed the partially dried colors that were smeared over her fingers. “Hmm why did you stop? That felt nice,” Nejire softly complained. “Um, sorry! My hands are full of paint,” (Y/n) sheepishly replied. “Mm yeah, you also have some on your face,” Nejire informed nonchalantly. “Wha-“ (Y/n) raised her arm and rubbed at her cheek, finding a bit of blue and white paint on her wrist that hadn’t been there prior. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?” “It's cute,” came the simple reply. “Even so,” (Y/n) cleared her throat, “You should have said something! I got paint in your hair and who knows where else,” “That’s okay, we can clean up in the morning.” Nejire adjusted herself a bit to swipe her fingers over the last of the wet paint smear on (Y/n)’s cheek and transferred it to her own. “Look, now we match!” She cheered before snuggling back into (Y/n)’s arms. (Y/n) smiled, her fingers once more taking roost in Nejire’s hair. She never knew she could be so lucky as to have such a wonderful person in her life. “I really like you a lot,” (Y/n) sighed, the words falling from her lips full of love without her permission and immediately making her tense. “I mean-“ “You do? I’m soooo glad you said something! I was actually really nervous to tell you that I really like you too!” Nejire admitted. “I just think about you a lot, you know? I feel like I can’t ever get enough of you, but it hasn’t been very long since your break up so I didn’t want to push you,” “You can’t get enough of me? You don’t find me... dull?” (Y/n) asked timidly. “Never,” Nejire replied with uncharacteristic seriousness. “You are as vibrant as the colors you paint with, (Y/n). Don’t let anyone try to tell you differently,” “Thank you, Nejire,” (Y/n) simpered, a prickly heat crawled up her neck as she prepared herself for what she would say next. “So, would you want to go to the museum with me this weekend? There’s going to be a special exhibit-“ A soft snore broke (Y/n)’s flow and she realized that Nejire had finally fallen asleep. “I’ll ask you about it tomorrow,” (Y/n) smiled and reached for the throw blanket to cover them both, sinking further into the bed and with the comfortable weight over her, her eyes drifted shut and she soon joined Nejire in blissful sleep.

[musicalluna]

disaster duo

i think this was for last last year’s birthday and I’M VERY SORRY. but here’s an unbirthday fic @flange5 i wanted to make you something super good so this took me 1230948302 years. i hope you like it even if it’s not super good. ily!!

--

The sound of Steve's voice coming down the hall from the kitchen is enough to make Tony's heart jump a little higher in his chest. He feels himself start to bounce with each step and mentally covers his face. God, he's embarrassing.

“I know I'm probably putting my foot in it, but I don't know who else to ask.”

“Did someone tell you you were doing that?”

Ah, Pepper. Pepper is a good person for Steve to ask things. She's far too used to Tony to bat an eye at anything Steve might ask.

“I've been told I have no idea how to talk to women.”

Pepper laughs and covers up Tony's snort of amusement. He buys that without needing to be sold. “Well, why don't you ask me and I'll help you remove it if it gets wedged in there.”

“It's...a little personal,” Steve warns, an edge of shyness creeping into his voice.

Tony pauses outside the kitchen door, curiosity piqued.

“Well, that's all right,” Pepper says, a warm smile in her voice. “I like to think we're friends.”

“You do?” Steve says and then goes quiet so fast Tony knows he's turning beet red.

“Oh, Steve, yes. Absolutely.”

“Then I guess that makes my question a little less out of line,” Steve says. His voice is doing that uncertain, self-depreciating thing that does things to Tony.

“Hmm,” Pepper says thoughtfully. “Well, we'll never know if you don't spit it out.”

There's a brief pause and then, rushed: “I want to go on a date.”

–

Tony steps backward without a conscious thought, his heart plunging to his toes.

“Oh,” he hears Pepper say, surprise thick in her voice. Clearly she hadn't realized either, that Steve—that Steve was interested. In her.

Tony's hand comes up to rub at the arc reactor, which suddenly feels like it's being twisted agonizingly in his chest. Steve's interested in Pepper. Of course. Why wouldn't he be? Pepper's…Pepper, and, okay, wow, Tony had gotten his hopes up higher than he thought.

Stumbling back down the hall, he barely hears himself mutter, “Hey,” as he passes Natasha. Tony thinks she says his name, but he doesn't answer, doesn't stop, just numbly makes his way back to his room and shuts the door behind him.

His best friend-cum-crush and his ex.

That's fine. That's great. If it makes Steve happy—

Tony makes a noise, a horrible, wounded noise, and presses his back to the door, sinking down to curl up against it on the floor. It feels like the reactor's been torn out of his chest, hollow and empty and excruciating.

Steve is one of his best friends. That should be enough. It should be enough that Steve is there in the wee hours of the morning when Tony's staring down a bottle and it should be enough to see his smile, limned in blue in the workshop when Tony's showing him his latest work, it should be enough when Steve slumps sideways into Tony's shoulder on movie nights, but it's not, it's not, Tony can't stand the thought of seeing Steve with someone else. Even someone like Pepper.

Maybe more because it's someone like Pepper. At least if he didn't know them he could hate them.

His tears are hot as they streak down his cheeks, tickling as they slip into his beard and Tony burns with mortification. Steve was never his to begin with because he'd been too much of a pansy to say anything and now—

Tony buries his face against his knees, smearing snot and tears on his jeans. His breath is coming in sharp, shuddering waves that hurt down into his gut.

How much false hope had he built up that it hurts this badly?

Whatever.

It doesn't matter. He'll let himself grieve until he's sick with it and then he'll be fine. He'll be okay with being Steve's best friend and giving him advice on how to be less awkward for Pepper in a few days.

Tony presses a hand over his mouth, throat working convulsively.

Okay, maybe a week.

But Steve deserves this, to be happy, to have someone who enjoys art the way he does, and who told Tony that they couldn't date anymore because she couldn't be Iron Man's mistress.

Oh, god.

So now she's going to be Captain America's mistress. It's just him she can't stand by—bullshit, the reasonable part of Tony's brain spits. The only person who's stood by him longer is Rhodey.

Then—what if she turns him down?

Tony hates himself for the wave of cool relief that washes through him at the idea. She'll break Steve's heart and...the thought makes Tony's stomach turn.

Why can't Steve be in love with him? He'd work so hard to make Steve happy. He wants to say that's all he wants, but he doesn't want to see Steve happy with someone else. Thinking about it makes him feel cut open. He wants Steve happy with him.

Too bad, he thinks, letting his head fall back with a thunk against the door and feeling his sinuses start to drain.

Steve wants to be happy with someone else.

–

Tony doesn't come out of his room for two days.

He tells Pepper he's sick and he must sound pretty awful because she just says, with a faint air of concern, “Okay, Tony. Let me know if you need anything.”

The part of him that's still in love with her—that will probably always still be in love with her—aches.

When he finally emerges, he's showered and put on fresh clothes and he's cried long and hard enough that he can put the masks up.

His resolve is immediately tested, because he nearly runs into Steve in the hall.

“Tony!” he exclaims and then his brow dips, mouth pulling into a frown. His gaze sweeps over Tony from head to toe and Tony very carefully reins in the urge to build something from that look. “Are you okay? Pepper said you were feeling under the weather.”

Tony pulls on a smile. “Yeah, caught a little something, but I'm all good now. Just needed some rest.”

Steve's expression softens and warms, piercing Tony through like a shard of glass. “Good. Glad to hear it. Say, speaking of Pepper—”

Tony freezes, smile fixed on his face. Jesus, already?

“I'd like to get Pepper a gift. Do you think you could recommend something?”

“Sure,” Tony says stiffly. “Why don't you get her a massage? That's—” He can't make himself say 'romantic'.

Steve's expression flickers. “Really? You don't think that's—well, you know her best.”

“Yep.” Tony's very proud of the fact that he doesn't scream or otherwise do something unreasonable.

Steve smiles at him, Sunday morning sunshine, and Tony dies a little inside. “Thanks, Tony. I appreciate it. Feel better, okay?”

“Do my best,” Tony croaks and Steve moves past him.

After a moment, Tony coaxes stiff joints into movement and heads down to the workshop.

A distraction, that's what he needs.

–

The distraction doesn't work.

Tony's pulled up at least half a dozen different projects he's been neglecting, but all he can think about is Steve going to get Pepper a gift. Are they already dating then? Like, in an official capacity? They’re at the point where Steve is getting her gifts?

Dammit.

–

The next week is like a waking nightmare.

Tony can’t focus on anything he’s supposed to; all he can think about is Steve and Pepper. Steve keeps checking on Tony, giving him these worried looks. Every time he looks like he wants to say something, but decides better of it. Tony can’t help but be grateful, he doesn’t want to hear about how Steve feels about Pepper—it was bad enough listening to him talk about Peggy and she’s been dead for three years. Christ, he’s a piece of work.

It can’t last though. Steve finally says, “Hey, Tony, can I talk to you?” one morning in between sparring. Tony isn’t even coming close to holding his own—he’s too distracted.

He chews his lip and nods. “Sure thing.”

They move over to the little set of bleachers on the side of the room and Tony sits down, deliberately occupying himself with drinking from his water bottle. Steve sips out of his own, pacing in front of him. He’s wound up for some reason.

Steve blows out a breath. “I talked to Pepper and she said I should just talk to you.”

Tony’s stomach drops out his ass. He swallows hard, barely managing to keep from choking on the water halfway down his throat. Oh god. Pepper knows, of course she knows, and she told Steve oh god.

“Look,” he blurts, “my feelings don’t matter. I’ll get over it, I’m used to it. Just—don’t tell me what you and Pepper are getting up to on dates and for crying out loud, don’t ask me for anymore gift ideas.”

Steve stops, back going stiff, and then turns to stare at Tony. “What Pepper and I get up to on dates—” His eyes go wide. “Tony, no!”

“What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“Tony, I’m not dating Pepper! She’s great, don’t get me wrong. I gave her that gift as a thank you for giving me advice about how to ask you out.”

Tony feels like Steve just cold-cocked him. “What? You asked her on a date! I heard you!”

Steve puts one hand on his hip, pressing the knuckles of the other to his forehead. “That’s what you thought?” His head comes up with a jolt. “You told me to get her a massage!” He turns bright red. “I thought that seemed strange, but I don’t know enough about the 21st century to know for sure.”

“I thought you were trying to give her a romantic gift!”

“That explains her face when I gave it to her.” Steve groans.

Tentatively, because he still can’t believe what he’s hearing, Tony says, “You were asking for her advice on me?”

Steve softens and he smiles the crooked, self-depreciating smile that gets Tony every time. “I don’t exactly have a good history with these things and all the experience I do have is with women. A woman,” he amends.

“Oh my god,” Tony says faintly. “I had a meltdown for nothing.”

Steve rubs the back of his head. “Guess I’m hopeless even with help.”

Tony holds out his hands, hope and happiness rising inside him like a warm tide. “Lucky for you, I’m into that.”

Steve huffs and gingerly puts his hands in Tony’s, his smile solidifying a little when Tony squeezes them and pulls him closer. “So...do you want to go on a date with me?”

Tony pulls him in until he can press his forehead to Steve’s, and he grins, all but bubbling over with euphoria. “Absolutely, I do.”

Steve beams at him.

“Oh, and Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“We are never telling anyone about this. Ever.”

“Agreed.”

[iron--spider]

you’re as good as it gets

“Whoever would have thought Peter would replace me?” Tony asks, peering over at Pepper as they set the table. “I guess I should have. I guess I should have seen it coming. I’m not as cool as I once was.”

 “I am going to record you,” Pepper says, glancing up as she sets the silverware down. “And then I am going to send the videos to Peter, whenever you do this.”

 “Good,” Tony says. “Then maybe he’ll see how much he’s hurting his old man—” Pepper starts coming at him with the dish towel, and Tony laughs, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Sort of.”

 “This is what you wanted him to do, right?” she asks, bracing her hand on the chair and looking at him. “This Octavius guy, doing this with him gets Peter college credit?”

 “The class does,” Tony says, chewing on a toothpick. “The working with him thing is a whole different...thing.”

 “He’s just living his life,” Pepper says, and she’s looking at him sadly now, like she might get it. “Getting better after everything he’s gone through. You know he’s not actually replacing you, he’s just—”

 “No, I know,” Tony says, laughing a little bit. “I know. I’m just being dramatic. To irritate you.”

 “Mhm. Easily done.”

 Tony doesn’t know much about Otto Octavius. Well, he knows everything he learned after he heavily, heavily researched him when Peter started working with him in his lab on the weekends. But, he doesn’t know Octavius as a person, and he doesn’t hardly trust anybody with Peter, even people he trusts. Logically, this is a good thing. Peter’s preparing for college. He’s getting back into the groove of things after...all the bullshit. He was having a hard time with it, for a while. Being gone for five years. His life upended. Tony nearly dying in front of him and losing an arm as a result of the near death. So Tony knows this is good. The kid’s moving on.

 He’s moving on?

He’s moving...on. 

 Tony’s had a lot of people move on from him. He expects it. He expects every day for Pepper to up and leave, for Morgan to pack up her little pink Hello Kitty suitcase and disappear in the wind. Rhodey never picking up his calls again. Happy slamming the door in his face. All of them would probably beat the shit out of him if they knew he still thought that way, but it’s so ingrained in him that it’s hard to push it back.

 He knows it would piss Peter off too. So Tony never says anything to him about his own dumb shit or his worries or his occasional loneliness, despite his firecracker of a daughter who’s been dressing up in Spider-Man costumes lately. But Tony misses Peter. And feels a dumb tinge of jealousy knowing he’s learning and growing with some other asshole scientist mentor guy. Tony is supposed to be the only asshole scientist mentor guy in his life.

 His phone buzzes in his pocket.

 “Speak of the devil,” Tony says, opening up Peter’s message. 

 “See, there you go,” Pepper says, laying out napkins. “He wouldn’t be messaging you if he’d replaced you. He’s too polite for that.”

 The message is a photo—a billboard of Tony himself, the kind of shit that started cropping up everywhere after everyone found out what he did. Suited up, sans helmet, staring upwards with a look of determination and grit on his face, like some kind of stained glass church art. Peter is in the foreground, both eyebrows raised, and it’s captioned “TONY ARE YOU STALKING ME?”

 “What a nerd,” Tony says, full of fondness. 

 “Make sure he knows he’s coming for movie night tomorrow or Morgan will never forgive him,” Pepper says. 

 “Noted,” Tony says, crafting a reply.

 ~

 A couple days later Tony is falling asleep sitting up in the workshop, still analyzing the layout for the new bot he’s creating to accompany DUM-E and U. He’s seen Peter a couple times in the past week, but the kid looks more worn out than normal with every new day that passes. Tony had texted a bit with May, trying not to worry, but that’s practically his every day state of mind, especially when it comes to his kids. 

 His kids. Plural. Two. How long has he been thinking about Peter like that? One of his own. Since before the end of the world? During, while he was gone, when there were things Tony couldn’t change, when the world was so heavy that he had to remove himself from it? When his failure loomed in front of him like a crumbling shadow, the darkness drawing all the light away from him?

 Was it then? Or was it when he saw the kid on their newfound battlefield, like a memory of a lifetime past, an impossible miracle? Talking and talking and talking like he used to?

 Tony leans forward and braces his elbows on the table, digging his thumbs into his eyes, nearly poking his own fucking eye out with his new titanium alloy thumb. It’s been a while and he’s still not used to the new arm. How it looks, how it feels, what other people think. An eternal reminder, just like the arc reactor was. Once again, he’s marked.

 He’s about to call it a night when his phone starts ringing.

 Peter.

 It’s after midnight, and yeah, he’s gotten calls from Peter at all hours of the night, but usually, it’s when he’s in trouble. 

 Tony answers fast. “Hey buddy,” he says. “You okay?”

 Peter’s breath is coming fast, and he doesn’t say anything for a moment. 

 Tony sits up straighter, eyes intent. “Peter, what’s going on?” he asks. “Talk to me.”

 “I—I, I—I made a bad decision. I didn’t know. I didn’t—I didn’t know. Help me.”

 Tony nearly leaps to his feet. Help me. Not I need help. Just help me. “Where are you?” he asks. “What happened? Who did this, what’s going on?”

 “I’m in—I’m in the suit,” Peter says, and Tony doesn’t know if he’s ever heard him sound like this. Only in the moment he knew he was dying. Or when he thought Tony was.

 “I’ll track you, are you safe?” Tony asks, getting up and sweeping towards the exit, a tension headache spreading across his forehead. “Can you stay where you are?”

 “I’ll—I’ll stay close to where I am, it should be—should be okay, but I don’t know, I don’t know.” His voice breaks and he sucks in a few gasping breaths. “I can’t think. I can’t—help me, please, I messed up, I don’t know what to do.”

 “I’m coming, I’m on my way,” Tony says, trembling now, himself, trying to summon the kind of strength that whatever this is needs. “Stay on the line with me, Pete. I’ve got you, just stay there.” He grabs his earpiece on the way out, activating it.

 “Friday, track Peter and give me the fastest possible routes to get to him,” Tony says, starting up the stairs. 

 He hasn’t had a suit on in almost a year. He hasn’t felt strong enough, safe enough, and the others have been covering it. It, the royal It, everything that needed to be done. Tony did what he could and it wound up well, and after that, nobody’s needed Iron Man. 

 But Peter needs him now.

 ~

 Tony can barely get him to talk while he’s on his way over, and that terrifies Tony even more—just short, clipped answers, wavering breathing, and it sounds like a panic attack. But Peter doesn’t seem to hear him, when Tony tries to talk him through it. He’s faraway in his head, too. 

 Tony finally finds him in an unused tunnel in Harlem, and getting over there without drawing a crowd is more difficult than Tony would have liked. But Friday finds him the way in that Peter must have found, and it’s like dropping directly into a horror movie. Quiet, echoes, dripping. 

 Peter crying.

 He’s sitting there, against the wall, his mask balled up beside him. This place is dirty and abandoned, and he looks too bright and vibrant to be here. Even in the state he’s in.

 Tony lets the nanos crawl back into the housing unit and he rushes over to him, kneeling by his side. He glances up, briefly, to make sure no one is keeping him here, that this isn’t a trap, but he doesn’t see anything anywhere. He hopes Friday would alert him to anything like that.

 “Hey, hey, okay,” Tony says, one hand on Peter’s shoulder, the other tipping his chin up. “Here I am, okay? What happened? What’d you do? I’m sure whatever it is, not your fault, we can fix it. We can fix it, together, no problem, kid. You know how much shit I’ve messed up and thought was beyond repair? Plenty. I always fix it, and we’re gonna fix this too.”

 Peter’s eyes finally focus on him, red-rimmed, and he shakes his head. He shudders to his feet, bracing his hand on the wall behind him, and he nearly falls before Tony grabs him and steadies him.

 “Otto,” Peter says, sniffling. “Doctor Octavius. He, he, he—he’s a bad guy, Tony, he’s—I’ve been helping him invent things and working on his specs and I’ve been helping him with all this stuff for months and months and he’s using it to hurt people, to commit crimes. He’s got—an entire team of guys, and I didn’t even mean to find them but I found them, tonight, they’re all these costumed villains, they were—they were working with the Rhino, that big guy I put away last month—”

 “Yeah, I remember,” Tony says, still holding onto him.

 “The police thought he had people behind him, more—more powerful people, but tonight I went after these guys that had robbed a bank on 4th street and I webbed up one of them but the other got away and I followed him—but I realized he was leading me somewhere bigger, and there were—Tony, he was there, Otto, he was in charge—he’s using these—these arms, they look like octopus arms, and I, I—I’m the one that helped—I helped him, I helped him with those—with those specs—”

 He covers his mouth, shaking his head, and before Tony can think about hugging him he steps forward and buries his face in Tony’s shoulder. 

 Peter keeps talking, muffled. “He’s responsible—his group, these people, they’re responsible for so, so much—shit—countless robberies, kidnappings, that—that explosion, at that office building, that happened—that happened in July, that was them, Tony, and people died, and I—and I’ve been—working with him since June—”

 “Stop, stop, stop,” Tony whispers, holding onto him.

 Peter gasps, sounds like he’s gonna start choking, and he claws at Tony’s shoulders. “I should have—realized, I should have known, some—somehow, figured it out, realized, but he—he acted so, so normal, with me, and I thought he was—I thought he was doing something—good, but he’s—he’s not—”

 “And you’re sure—”

 “I’m sure,” Peter whispers, wounded. “Positive. And I—they were picking up and moving their—base and I was—freaking out too much to even—follow—keep track—”

 “Shh, relax,” Tony whispers, ruffling Peter’s hair. “Relax, breathe.”

 Peter stops talking, but his breathing is labored, and he’s holding on tight.

 “The guy that got away, that led you to all this, did he know you were following him? Did he know what you saw?”

 “Don’t think so,” Peter says. He shakes his head. “I should never have—even taken that course, with Otto, let alone started—working with him. I made a bad decision, a—a stupid decision. May is gonna be so disappointed in me. And I know...I know you don’t like him.”

 Tony scoffs, still rocking them back and forth, gently. “I didn’t not—listen, one, May can never be disappointed in you. Please. And me, I’m just—I’m just jealous. I wanna work with you, I wanna hoard you, and that’s selfish of me, whatever. That’s all. But fuck that guy, now I have a reason to hate him. We’re gonna take him down, yeah?” He pulls back, holding Peter by the shoulders. “Yeah?”

 Peter looks positively fucking miserable, but thankfully, uninjured. “I’ve been helping him, Tony,” he says, dejected. “With...God knows what. The arms, they’re—they were supposed to be for limb replacement, but he’s altered them, and they’re—they look dangerous. He was in charge, he was—with all these criminals, some I’ve seen before, some that have gotten away from me and he was—he was in charge.”

 “Listen,” Tony says, stepping a little closer. “I’ve been betrayed before. More than one time. Used for what I know, what I can do. That’s what happened here. Nothing else. You have not and will not ever hurt anybody or anything. You’re a fucking angel, kid, and this does not change that. We’re gonna take care of this. You could do it without me, because you can do anything, but I’m gonna help you every step of the way.”

 Peter heaves a sigh, the kind of motion that shows he’s still horrified and put-upon by all this, but relieved that he’s not handling it alone. Tony knows how that is. It’s always easier to have backup, especially when things are personal. They both take things to heart.

 Peter moves in and hugs him again. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. 

 “Nope,” Tony says, automatically, hugging him back. “No reason to be sorry. My least favorite phrase from you.”

 “I’m just sorry for everything,” Peter says, voice breaking again. There’s a lot more behind that one, and Tony sighs, rubbing his back.

 “Don’t be,” he says. “You’re doing everything right. The world just sucks and good people get taken advantage of. And you’re as good as it gets.”

 “But we’re gonna fix it,” Peter says, tentatively, like he’s hoping to believe it.

 “Yes,” Tony says, firmly. “We’re gonna fix it.”

[sorptomber]

My thoughts on the TMA finale

before we even get into it: this is a negative post. I am not happy. Does this mean you can’t be happy? Of course not! If you got the ending you wanted then im happy for you but figuring this is where I posted all of my magnus stuff, I might as well make one last post about it here. Spoilers, obviously. (also jonny if you see this dont take it personal xx)

My english teacher always tells us that if we’re in an exam and we’ve written a few amazing paragraphs on an essay, if there’s only 10 minutes left in the exam then you’re better off just ending your essay there rather than add on a shitty rushed paragraph because it’ll bring down your mark rather than raise it because you wrote more. This is exactly how I feel with tma, especially season 5. 

I got into magnus around this time last year, it definitely took me a while to fully enjoy it though. After listening to the first 10 episodes, I hopped onto the tma subreddit and basically asked “is every episode statements?” because I wasn’t interested in them in the slightest. I’d heard about the podcast from jonmartin fanart so I expected a lot more character interaction. I fought through the first two seasons, loved the third season, adored the fourth season just for the angst and got a start on season 5 (I was fully caught up by the time 171 came out) I thought to myself “oh hey, one episode per. domain that’s cool, whatever, kinda boring but at least we’re getting to know this apocalyptic world.” What poor little me didn’t know was that the majority of season 5 would just be worldbuilding. over and over and over again. The fact they repeated fears for domains had me more horrified than any of the other statements. I obviously stopped listening a while afterwards because I genuinely found it so boring. 

I read the transcripts, if I even bothered looking at the episode at all. And I think this is where season 5 absolutely fails and kind of fucks up the entire show. We’re used to one base setting, the archives, and we’ve never really been told much about it’s appearance because it looks like a normal ass archive. Before or after each statement we’re used to having SOME sort of character interaction, jon and tim fighting or melanie going fuckin ham, thats the shit I actually listened for. In season 5 it’s all just walking and talking with jon and martin and while that doesnt sound bad, NOTHING ACTUALLY HAPPENS BETWEEN EPISODES. they just talk about the same things, have bad communication and maybe have a few cute moments so that it isnt all doom and gloom, but besides that there’s not actual substance. tma was a show where it kind of caters to two groups, the lot who just want short horror stories read by a random ass british dude and the lot who want plot and character interaction. Seasons 1-4 had both but season 5 was majority just horror anthology. That’s not a bad thing in concept, but it’s a bad thing if you suddenly get rid of most characters and decimate anything actually interesting for the remaining characters to talk about other than “what do you think will happen,” “where do you think this person is,” and random exposition, exposition which is so constantly repeated that characters within the show bring up how it’s said so often.

What frustrated me so much about the finale was that there was literally no need for it. We’ve spent nearly 30 episodes being told everything, more than everything, about this apocalyptic world, yet when it comes to the finale it’s ALL up to interpretation? I’ve listened to so much shit about this world that really failed to interest me all, telling myself itll be worth it for the ending, just for it to end with “i dont know, you decide.” It really feels like a fuckin punch in the gut. It was predictable (which isn’t always a bad thing, but this was VERY predictable) and unsatisfying. I know I’m not alone on this either, I’ve spoken to friends who have thought the exact same thing. It was altogether just a very disappointing end to such a fantastic show.

Personally, I feel like it could have ended pretty nicely at season 3 or 4, maybe jon could have died at the end of season 3, leaving martin behind to deal with elias plans, thats pretty tragic. Or at the end of season 4 maybe jon could have actually killed jonah himself and then run away with martin to safe house, maybe they decide to start a new life there and they never hear from Basira, Melanie or Georgie again, neither of them know what Dasies fate was. Obviously this is just off the top of my head, and I’m pretty sure Jonny had this planned out from the start. I think he still made an incredible piece of media, it get me out of a really bad case of art block and basically carried me through the first lockdown, but I think it’s the execution that let it down in the end.

I don’t know. this is all just me rambling, but I figured I had to let it all out somewhere. magnus was a great experience and I’m glad I got to be a part of the fandom while it was arguably at it’s peak. I’ll definitely keep an eye on rusty quill and jonnys works, but I have to say that I’m just really dissappointed with how magnus ended after the amazing run it had.