#on the other note! my friend is doing very well w the drawings she’s finished abt ten characters :)

[lotus-pear]

actually tearing my hair out bc i sat down to review my fic today since i’m getting close to the publication date (i think i should mention that i write in first person for the initial draft because it goes smoother during the writing process since i’m literally just projecting what’s in my head onto the screen and then go back to change it to third person later) BUT AS I WAS GOING THROUGH THE CHAPTERS IT SOUNDED SO GOOD IN FIRST PEROSN POV :((((((((( but reading fp is kinda cringe imo so i tend to avoid it for the final draft but like AUGH IDK i’m in a dilemma I NEED HELP DECIDING

[camels-pen]

a gift (not a burden)

summary:

Usopp knows who his soulmate is, but he doesn't want to follow some bullshit rules of fate etched into his skin.

Meanwhile, Sanji's a hopeless romantic.

—

second gift exchange fic! this is also for @redriotinggg & i've got some extra notes about their soulmarks i'm probably gonna share at some point

warning: internalized homophobia

Ao3 Link | Chapter 2

Chapter 1: I love you, my friend

“Soulmarks: a way of finding your perfect romantic match. Depending on where it’s placed, the meaning changes—”

“So?” Usopp said, colouring the mane of his fish-lion drawing.

“So,”—Ms. Okra ripped the paper away and he made a noise of protest—“yours is very important, Usopp.”

Usopp sighed, slumping forward on the table. Ms. Okra kept talking about more dumb soulmate facts while Usopp tried to remember her real name. She always bragged that she got the nickname ‘Ms. Okra’ because she sold the best okra in the village, but Usopp’s heard the other adults make fun of her hairdo plenty of times to know the truth.

“Are you even listening?!”

Usopp groaned. “Who cares about soulmates?”

“This is serious, Usopp,” she said, wagging a finger at him. “You have to make sure to find yours soon—”

“Because you don’t wanna come up the hill anymore?”

Ms. Okra stuttered, “Well—I—”

“I didn’t ask you to babysit me,” he grumbled, rolling his broken crayon across the table. “I was doing just fine before the mayor made you guys check up on me. I’m 7 and a half; I’m basically an adult!”

Ms. Okra rolled her eyes. “I’m just saying, you could stand to make a few friends. There are some nice boys and girls who visit on passing ships sometimes—”

Usopp blew raspberries. “You just wanna get rid o’ me. Prolly to steal all the legendary gold I’ve got hidden away.” He grinned. “Did I ever tell you? I went to a famous island made of cheese and—”

“Son of a pirate, indeed,” she whispered, rubbing the bridge of her nose. It sounded like any other curse she’d yelled at him from her shop window.

Usopp gripped his crayon tightly. “He’s gonna come back.” He glared at her. “And he’s not gonna be happy when I tell him what you said.”

“Oh please, if that coward was going to come back, he would’ve done it before Banchina—”

Usopp snatched his drawing and ran out the door. 

“Usopp! Usopp, get back here; we haven’t finished the lesson!” Ms. Okra shouted. “What would your mother say?!”

His mom would be proud of him for sticking up for himself and his dad. And she wouldn’t be so pushy about soulmates. Her mark was in the same spot as Usopp’s, after all, and look what happened.

Usopp spent the night holed up in a cave by the beach, his fish-lion crushed to his chest. The breeze whistled a lonely tune through the stone and sand. He buried his face in his knees and tried to ignore it.

—

Vinsmokes aren’t supposed to get soulmarks, his father sneered.

It’s like an ugly tattoo, his brothers jeered.

Make sure no one sees it, Reiju warned.

“Sanji,” his mother said, a warm look in her eyes, “it’s beautiful.”

“Really?” he asked, curled up next to her in bed. “Everyone else hates it.”

“Really, baby.” She tucked a stray hair behind his ear. “Don’t worry about everyone else; how does it make you feel?”

“Hmm.” Sanji traced each line of his mark with his finger. He smiled. “It makes me feel really warm and good! Like when I eat soup!”

His mom pressed a kiss to his temple and he giggled. “Then, mon chouchou, that’s all that matters.”

“But—But what if they don’t like me, maman?” He sniffled, tears welling up in his eyes. “I’m really bad at everything and I’m whiny and—”

His mom shushed him and pulled him closer. “Don’t listen to Judge and your brothers, okay? You are perfect just as you are. Your soulmate is going to love you.”

“Can you come with me when I meet them?” Sanji hastily added, “W-When you get better, I mean! And—And when I’m older and not as much of a baby!”

His mom took a sharp breath. She buried her face in his hair, the sheets rustling as she tugged him to her chest. “Of course, mon coeur,” she said, her voice sounding odd and muffled. “I’d love to be with you when you meet them.”

—

Usopp’s soulmark was a tiny little thing. Blue waves and a chef’s hat with a spiral pattern all inside a glass bottle. It was barely the size of his fingernail.

Mrs. Barb’s soulmark stretched across her whole back. A big green boar with curly white tusks and yellow flowers for eyes. Mrs. Barb’s tanktop couldn’t even cover it all.

“Rue!” Ms. Okra yelled, her voice easily louder than the sound of Mrs. Barb’s hammering. “You better not be fixing the display stand when I told you to rest!”

“Nope! No fixing here!” Ms. Okra stomped down the street as Mrs. Barb hastily put away her tools and kicked the box under the porch. She and Mrs. Barb whispered something to each other. Mrs. Barb said something that made Ms. Okra burst into laughter and smack her shoulder. Mrs. Barb put an arm around her waist and leaned in to kiss her cheek.

“Don’t get too close, Captain, or they might spot you.” Pepper pulled on the back of  Usopp’s shirt. “C’mon, let’s find Onion and Carrot, they’re still hiding!”

“R-Right! I was just trying to test my limits today.” He grinned. “Gotta practice my famous stealth techniques or I might get rusty!” 

“But I found you first…?” Pepper said, confused.

Usopp turned Pepper around and ushered him further down the alley towards the mouth of the forest. “Of course, of course, but that’s just because I was going easy on you, just wait until next time when I—”

—

“I almost had it!”

“Sure you did, kid!” Patty laughed around the cigarette in his mouth. “Maybe next time you’ll hit the target!” He laughed again, slapping the railing.

Sanji whirled on him. “Fuck off!”

“Hey! Watch your fucking language!”

“You need to bend your knees more,” Zeff called from the kitchen, his voice drifting out from the open door.

“You didn’t even see it!” Sanji yelled back.

“Didn’t have to. I could hear your dainty little steps from here.”

“They aren’t dainty.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Sanji scoffed. “Whatever.” He swiped Patty’s cigarette and ran back inside, giggling while the man chased after him.

“Give that back you brat!” Patty knocked into a rolling cart piled with dirty plates. Carne scrambled to catch them with a curse. 

“Patty!” Zeff shouted. “Quit fucking around and harassing the Eggplant. Either finish your shitty break or get to work!”

“Ugh, dad to the rescue.”

Sanji flushed. “He’s—I mean—he’s okay, but he’s still just a shitty geezer.” There was a smarting pain to his head and Sanji squatted down with a hiss. “What’d you kick me for?!”

“I may be a geezer, but I ain’t shitty.” There was another thud, followed by a deeper hiss. Louder, Zeff said, “And I ain’t your dad, Patty, so get to fucking work.”

“Aye aye, Owner Zeff,” he grumbled.

With the sound of running water, Sanji looked up. Patty was at the sink, washing dishes and sporting a lump on top of his head. He snickered quietly to himself and took a celebratory drag of his stolen prize.

“You gotta stop picking fights like that,” Carne said, frowning down at Sanji. “Also, quit smoking. It’s bad for you.”

“Everybody else does it!”

Carne took the cigarette from Sanji and held it out of reach. “Well, you’re not everybody else, are you?”

“Hey!”

“Sanji, let it go.”

“But Pére!” Sanji whined.

Silence.

Carne had a hand over his mouth. Patty’s shoulders were shaking.

“What?” Sanji said, shoulders rising. “Don’t laugh! You guys said it earlier!”

Before he realized, Zeff leaned down and scooped him into a hug. Sanji stiffened. “W-What the hell are you doing, shitty geezer?”

“Nothing special.” He paused a moment. Sanji grew more tense with each passing second. “Thank you, mon fils.”

Sanji gasped. “You—what—when—?!”

“I wanted to read books from the North, so I learned,” he said. It sounded like that time he told Sanji he’d grow watermelons in his stomach if he ate the seeds. Zeff gave him a hard pat on the back and went back to cooking like nothing had happened.

“When you meet your soulmate, you better bring her ‘round to meet all of us, okay?” Carne said, wiping his eyes. Patty was trying and failing to subtly wipe his nose on his sleeve. “You can’t just run off without telling us!”

“As if I could ever run off.” Sanji leaned back against the counter, trying for smug, but ending up with a wobbly smile. “You guys would never survive without me.”

—

“Alright Zoro, hit me!”

Zoro wound up and punched Luffy in the face. Luffy bounced all across the deck, knocking over anything that wasn’t tied down until he ended up tangled in the railing. 

“Wow, seven bounces; that’s a new record!” Usopp said. “I need to step up my game.” 

“Hey bastards, you’re disturbing Nami!” Sanji shouted, bursting out of the galley.

“Sanji! When’s lunch?” 

“We just had breakfast.”

“And?” 

“And if I let you eat whenever you wanted you’d clear out every speck of food we have!”

Luffy whined. “But lunch is so far away. A little snack wouldn’t hurt.”

“Listen here you shitty rubberman—” Sanji picked Luffy up by the front of his vest. Anything else he said after that was completely lost to Usopp as he got a good look at his wrist.

Now, Sanji had been sailing with them for a couple weeks at this point, and he didn’t particularly put any effort in hiding the obvious mark stretching along the width of his wrist. Usopp could’ve probably named the basic colours and shapes of it based on the glimpses he’d seen. So really, it was no surprise that there was a yellow-orange target with a brown eye in the centre, framed by a green slingshot. 

What surprised him was the fact that it was only now, after seeing the whole picture at once, did he recognize that slingshot.

Holy fuck, Sanji was his soulmate!

Holy fuck, Sanji was his soulmate.

Mr. if-I-don’t-flirt-with-every-woman-around-I’ll-die was Usopp’s soulmate. Dear god.

What was he supposed to do with that? It was proper etiquette to make the soulmate bond known once one person had figured it out, but…

“Radiant Nami, would you like a refill of your tea?” 

“I picked some flowers just for you, my love!” 

“You’re the only girl for me, Nami baby!”

Well, what did Ms. Okra know anyway? She was wrong about a lot of things and all that soulmark junk was stupid anyway. Usopp’s curiousity had been sated, Sanji could keep flirting with girls guilt-free—it was a win-win!

And besides, compared to Sanji’s, Usopp’s soulmark was—fuck, he felt like crying.

“At least have the decency to wait a couple hours before asking for a snack!” Sanji growled, shaking Luffy and unintentionally bringing Usopp out of his head. Luffy simply laughed.

Usopp took a breath. He clenched his fists tight before letting them fall limp. “Hey, Sanji, you mind letting us have Luffy back? We were kinda in the middle of something.” He carefully kept his gaze away from Sanji’s wrist.

“Sure just give me a second, I need to beat some sense into this shitty captain of ours.”

“Give it up,” Zoro said. “That’s impossible with your puny kicks.”

“Puny?!” Sanji let go of Luffy and jumped the railing, butting heads with Zoro. “I’ll show you puny you third-rate swordsman!”

The force of Sanji letting go sent Luffy snapping back through the railing and around the deck before eventually flying through the galley door. There was a crashing noise and Nami screeched, followed closely by Luffy’s apologies between laughter.

“Eight bounces,” Usopp mumbled to himself.

Zoro and Sanji were fighting, Sanji’s sleeves riding up as he twisted around. 

Usopp quietly made his way below deck to the boys’ dorm, wedged himself in one of the corners, and buried his head in his knees with a groan.

—

“How come you’re so…” Nami waved a hand.

“You just gestured to all of me, my dear.”

“I mean, you flirt with pretty much any lady you meet.”

Sanji nodded frantically. “Of course! I can’t just let a lady go about her day without complimenting her!”

“Right.” Nami tapped the edge of her teacup. “Now, I don’t want to be rude, Sanji, but it really seems like you don’t care much about soulmates.”

“Ah, so that’s what this is about.” He smiled. “It’s the opposite, actually. And a little silly, I suppose, but when I was a kid, I didn’t want to miss the chance that one of the customers might be my soulmate. Some only visited the restaurant a few times a year and others only came once while passing through on their travels.”

“So you… decided to flirt with every woman who visited?”

Sanji’s cheeks warmed. “Well, yes, in a sense.” 

Nami raised an eyebrow. “What’s there to be embarrassed about? You certainly don’t have any shame about it now.”

He coughed into his hand. “I… started doing it rather young. And I hadn’t really been able to discern which customers were with their soulmates or otherwise in relationships already.”

Nami laughed. “Aww, Sanji, that’s so cute. I wish I could’ve seen that.”

“Trust me you really, really don’t,” he said, refilling her tea.

She took a sip and let out a satisfied sigh. The galley was silent for a long moment.

“If…” Nami paused. “If you’re waiting for your soulmate, then does that mean you know who they are?”

Sanji shook his head. “Nope, I’m just as much in the dark about her as you are with yours.”

Nami touched a finger to the spot just under her ear, a light blue heart outlining a well-loved crown atop a sandcastle, a single peacock’s feather sticking out of it. Sanji had never seen that style of crown before—none of them had—but then, that wasn’t uncommon when it came to soulmates from different places.

“Sanji,” Nami said softly, her eyes drawn to the table. “You really don’t recognize it?”

Sanji tilted his head. “No, not at all.”

Nami sighed again, this one more tired than satisfied. “Maybe we should get your eyes checked before we cross the Red Line.”

Sanji made a noise of confusion, but Nami refused to elaborate. When she asked about lunch plans, it didn’t take long for him to forget all about it.

—

Bath times were… harrowing to say the least. The guys didn’t have to wash up at the same time, but Luffy—and now Chopper, too—needed a buddy so he didn’t slip under the water and drown. Zoro needed a little persuading sometimes, which was always easiest with company around, and Nami forbade Usopp and Luffy from taking baths on their own, on account of wasting all the hot water messing around. Ever at Nami’s beck and call, Sanji would join bath time to keep order, followed by Chopper who came more for the comradery than anything.  

It wasn’t too hard for Usopp to hide his mark before. It was far smaller than his hand so he could easily cover it with a well placed towel or carrying Luffy to the tub in a particular way. Before, it was out of embarrassment of the size, but ever since recognizing his own mark on Sanji’s wrist, things had become a lot more stressful.

“Alright you idiots,”—Sanji clapped his hands and everyone turned to him—“Nami dearest is still recovering so we’re gonna get this done in no time and leave her, and our precious Vivi, plenty of hot water to soak in.”

Usopp kept one hand on his towel, saluting Sanji with the other. “Aye aye, bath captain!” Chopper and Carue rushed to mimic him, determined looks on their faces.

“But guys, I’m the captain…” Luffy said, pouting.

“Yes, but Sanji’s the bath captain. That means he’s no fun—”

“Watch it, Longnose.”

“Don’t forget afraid of a little dirt,” Zoro piped up from across the room, already having washed himself off and sitting in the back of the tub.

“Wow, I’m impressed,” Sanji said, brow raised. “You actually used your brain for once and insulted me when I won’t fight back. Maybe your head isn’t full of algae.” He smirked. “Though I guess it’s expected that you’re afraid of retaliation.”

“Who’s afraid?!” Zoro yelled, jumping to his feet. “You wanna go, Curly?”

Sanji wagged a finger. “Ah ah ah, what’s the rule?” 

He turned to Usopp and Luffy who both said, in a bored tone, “No fighting in the bath.”

“That’s right.” He started to unbutton his shirt as he added, “So finish up first and I’ll kick your ass later.”

Zoro sat himself back down, mumbling, “I’ll kick your ass later.”

If Sanji heard him, he didn’t show it, and man was Usopp glad for it. The days Sanji wasn’t just tearing out of his clothes as fast as possible to try and splash Zoro were always a treasure. Watching him leisurely expose the skin of his belly, a fine black happy trail dragging Usopp’s eyes down down down, just as he started to unbutton his pants—

“Usopp, hurry up!” He startled at Luffy’s voice, only just realizing he was still wearing his boxers. He quickly shoved them off and grabbed another towel for his waist before dumping a basin of water over Luffy’s head, clearing the suds all over him. Luffy gave a cheer and jumped into the bath, soaking Zoro completely. 

Ugh, what was Usopp doing? He couldn’t just check out Sanji like that! They were friends, crewmates! And Sanji didn’t even like guys, so it wasn’t like there was any chance. Besides, soulmarks didn’t really mean anything: you could be smitten lovers or barely acquaintences just like a relationship with any other person.

Yeah. Yeah! Usopp was probably just… going sea crazy. That’s a thing, right? Where being at sea so long makes you… fall in love with your best friend. Ugh.

“Sorry—I said I’m sorry, Zoro!” Luffy said as Zoro shook him back and forth. “I won’t do it again!”

“Won’t do it again my ass,” Regardless, Zoro let him slip from his grip and flop against the edge of the tub. 

“Usopp! Me too, me too!” Chopper said, covered in soap and holding out the basin. 

“Of course! The great Captain Usopp would never leave you hanging!” Usopp shifted in his stool. “Close your eyes and hold your breath.” Chopper did as instructed and Usopp poured the basin over him, slower than he did for Luffy. 

Chopper shook from head to toe, sending water flying everywhere. Usopp made a noise of surprise as he was soaked right back. “Thanks Usopp!” Chopper said, running for the bath. 

“Geez, give me a warning next time!” Usopp sighed, twirling some of his wet locks around his finger. “Man, I wasn’t even planning on washing my hair today.”

“No use complaining about it now.” Sanji said, pulling up a stool next to him. He held up Usopp’s shampoo bottle and shook it a little. “Want some help with it?”

“Please.”

—

Sanji laughed, the sound followed by a loud squirt of shampoo in his hand and a faint floral smell. Usopp turned his back to him and sighed happily at the first touch. They sat in relative silence—

“Chopper, do not turn into Walk Point—”

“Zoro, you don’t have to be jealous, we can take turns! You take the duck and—”

“I’m not gonna ride either of them!”

—as Sanji scrubbed shampoo into Usopp’s scalp. Usopp leaned back at bit more, his head tilting up. Like a cat wanting to be pet, Sanji thought fondly.

He took his time lathering up the suds and rubbing thoroughly at differents bits of sea salt and grit; he did the same for his own hair and he’d be damned if he didn’t do the same for his friend.

He combed his fingers through Usopp’s hair, taking his time to start from the ends and work his way up to the root, like Usopp taught him. Eventually, he ran his nails from the top of his scalp to the back of his nape in one smooth motion. Usopp had a full body tremble and sighed contentedly, the sound deep and satisfied. Something warm pooled in Sanji’s gut and he suddenly wanted to do anything to hear it again.

He repeated the motion, but Sanji only saw the curve of Usopp’s smile. A sight he held close to his heart, but not what he was hoping for. He ran his nails along the sides of his hair, scratching good and hard. Usopp huffed through his nose. Following the thread, Sanji put his fingers behind Usopp’s ear and scratched again; this time he had to rush to catch Usopp before he hit Sanji’s chest.

“Falling asleep?” Sanji asked with a laugh.

“Mmmno,” Usopp said, voice slow and drawn out. He tilted his ear towards Sanji and Sanji could see both his eyes were closed. “Keep going?”

Ah, maybe a dog would’ve been a better comparison. Sanji could almost imagine a little tail wagging against the floor. “‘Course. Can’t leave a job half done.” He grabbed a little more shampoo and got back to it, being sure to keep one hand right where Usopp wanted it.

To Sanji’s delight, Usopp sighed far deeper than before and pratically melted into his lap with hardly a thought; his arms lay limp over Sanji’s thighs and the back of his head pressed into Sanji’s stomach. The poor guy must’ve been tired from doing repairs on Merry earlier if all it took was a little head scratch or two to have him fighting sleep like that. Maybe Sanji should rinse off the shampoo and usher him off to bed—

Usopp sighed again, the sound closer to a pleased moan.

Well, this was benefitting both of them, really, so Sanji couldn’t just stop out of the blue. He had to be thorough in helping Usopp—he offered, afterall, and it’d be rude not to see it through. 

Usopp slid down a bit more, head turning to rest on Sanji’s thigh as Sanji scratched behind the other ear. His movement jostled the towel over his shoulder and it slipped to the ground.

Sanji noted it, absentmindedly, and glanced at the newly exposed part of Usopp’s chest without a second thought.

His hands stilled.

“Mmm? Why’d you stop?” Usopp asked. Sanji hardly heard him over the roaring in his ears. “Sanji?”

Blue waves. A chef’s hat. A distinct pattern of spirals. All encased in a small glass bottle.

There was a sharp inhale and suddenly the warmth across his thighs and stomach were gone.

Usopp stuttered some excuse as he left. Sanji was frozen, his eyes glued to the spot where his matching soulmark stared back at him.

His matching soulmark.

His matching soulmark.

And Usopp hadn’t said a word.

He sat there, covered in shampoo suds and wondering where he went wrong.

[kroosluvr]

Do you have any shio within P2? TatsuJun is a given (and canon, fight me) and i know P2 isnt exactly a game where romance could bloom lol, but still, based on the character dynamics, are there pairings you like? Platonic stuff as well

YES. OMFGDFKJGHSKJ ok so yes yes yes i am obsessed w tat/sujun... they make me tear up all the timeee theyre so sweet and i love them

HERE ARE OTHER SHIPS THAT I LIKE,

anna x lisa (HEAR ME OUT. OKAY. ETERNAL PUNISHMENT UNIVERSE/THIS SIDE.) tldr lisa learns that anna is close friends w her crush tatsuya so shes like aha i should get close to her too!!!! but anna is just so caring and sweet towards lisa completely obliviously that shes like Wait a second. anyway i'll live and die by thsi because it's sooo cheesy adn cute and i have to draw them again I NEED MORE PPL TO UNDESRAND ME (also since my delusion is from this side before shit starts going down there IS room for romance. <- copium

eikichi x tatsuya: yeah. Yeah. dudes who r guys etc.

eikichi x hanakouji: obviously peak.... i REALLY loved the little developments of eikichi's character throughout p2 and the moment when he embraced hanakouji BUDSGHJDKAJGW do u want me to die. theyre so cute and SUPER CUTE IN EP

EP gang ships: i like all of them. bias towards ul/abao but i love all of them dearly. if i think abt it baofu is my fav out of the 4 so i think i fixate on him the most... i want him to be happy. (on that note have u read pulse.txt today. well u shld. mind the explicit warning tho ehe)

oomf on twt mentioned jun/eikichi too and i was vrey intrigued. adn i saw a lisa/eikichi art like yetserday and i was also very intrigued. im impartial towards tatsuya/lisa myself as well tho i like unrequited love so HEHHHE

not a romantic ship but also tatsuya/anna's friendship is SO important to me broooo akghsdkvg it acutally punches me in the gut how close she is with this side!tatsu and how she's in a much better place in EP bc she's not alone??!?!? and also i feel very strongly abt IS!anna being close with jun (through Joker) and EP!anna being close with tatsuya but not both in the same universe. idk but its so tragic :') as u can tell anna's my fav chara (besides tatsu) so i just uuwah ueeeueee IW ANT HER TO BE HAPPY SO BAD

im ok about anna/noriko!!! not crazy abt it but i think noriko's puppy crush is cute. as i said i love unrequited love trope so idk i like the idea of it remaining as just a crush btwn them

i think theres also def room for me to like ships w the p1 guys (yukino elly nanjo) BUT I NEED TO FINISH P1 FIRST SO I GET TJHE FULL GIST AUUFSGJDGHW but whenever i look at ao3 i see like nanjo/katsuya and im just so intrigued but i want to finish p1 so i get the full nanjo picture first...... soon..soon clenchfist

ANYWAY I THIJNK I COVERED EVERYTHIGN HERE BUT TTHIS IS JUST THINLY VEILED ANNA/LISA PROPAGANDA SORRY. COUGHS INTO SLEEVE

[caramelmochacrow]

polym4id cariňosa <3

notes/me going insane abt them under the cut bc i know the tags would be long if i didn't!

first up! carinosa is a folk dance that originates from the colonial era of the philippines. it tells the story of a man and a woman falling in love but are too shy to properly show it so they do a little hide and seek type of thing. the fan and handkerchief play a very important role for the dance because it helps tells the audience their shy way of showing love.

my headcanon for dalia's mother is she's filipino and her father is japanese. her brother has no canon appearance yet so i just made one up for him!

i headcanon dalia being very close to her filipino side of the family since her mother always video-called them when she has the chance ever since she was a kid. her relative gifts her and her brother presents every time it was their birthday or any holiday.

marika is literally the "ideal" dalagang pilipina (on the outside). fair skin, nice attitude, has a good career as a model, and is very sweet. dalia's relatives would probably like her a lot if they didn't know abt the fact marika does NOT clean her room n stuff.

"tito" in english is "uncle", not to be confused w "ninong" which is used for godfathers (ive accidentally called my tito 'ninong' more than two times bc i didnt know this difference when i was younger). the feminine equivalant for both words are "tita" and "ninang".

no one is wondering this but the reason i didn't get any of their boobs out is bc that would be. not good to do. it's a no no. that era in the philippines was very conservative on that kind of thing, so it would be a bit disrespectful (to me) to do such a thing. also how am i supposed to get the tits out w that outfit huh? (and i cant drAW BO--)

also also. if ur curious why some tagalog words remind u of spanish or anything reminds u of something from spain, it's bc spain colonized the philippines for 300 years. that's why some filipinos have "spanish" names. my middle and last name r spanish bc of this. (idk if some of this is correct tho bc i havent went to a filipino history lesson for like. two years technically. reason why i kinda remembered this is bc we were taught this ever since we were like. in kindergarten.)

that saori and dalia one is based on an image in the wikipedia page of carinosa. i rlly liked it a lot even tho it isnt even part of the dance lol. that was the first drawing i did for this and it took me a while to finish haha.

this isnt connected to the drawings (kind of) but back in my old old school in the philippines we had to dance the carinosa for this annual dance competition against every grade, from the kindergarteners to the damn high schoool students. it was a mixed school so there were boys n girls and i was paired up w one of my friends, all of us were practicing rlly hard but when the performance day came, my friend and his brother (also my other friend i think) wasnt there. so i had to be paired up w the girl his brother was supposed to be paired up w, and considering the fact this song is abt a two lovers n stuff it made it pretty gay lol. we did well but we didn't win, i forgot who won tho...

also rika's necklace is from that one art from the character designer where's theyre wearing the yoba academy uniform.

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary398

10/24-25/24

thursday - friday

pumpkin patch was fun:

we just kind of stood around a while, we were gonna go out earlier but something dumb happened, my gf's mom broke her wrist because she went to go yell at the neighbors and decided, walking back, to cut across the little rocks between the houses, instead of just using the sidewalk. my gf's brother even, he was with her, saying let me help you, come on the sidewalk, and i guess she was just so mad about the neighbors being loud(??) that she had to walk back across the rocks and she tripped, in her flip flops, and broke her wrist. since she just had surgery on her shoulder, and that arm's hard to use, and this broke her good arm's wrist, she's now really in need of help, and this situation is so... i know that when someone breaks any bone of their own, they feel like the stupidest person ever, nobody else can find them dumber than they feel. but god. it's obviously sad, i feel horrible for her and when i heard i was really worried. it sucks. i wonder if she was drunk at all or not. but i don't know. this situation is so stupid, because she's also, how to put this, i don't know, basically racist about these neighbors. just that they're loud and not white i don't know. i get being bothered people play music loud late or something but how bad is it when you're separated by a few feet... like even when my neighbors partied when i was a kid, it wasn't really unpleasant. i guess it's different, when you sleep in the living room. i get telling them to turn it down but the way she talks about it. it's a little crazy. and how righteous she feels for fighting people. it's strange. it's strange how people can be like this, after so long, still be fixing to start fights with others, i don't know. i don't know what does it, and what makes it hard to not be like that for some, for that to be the only kind of engine in your life, if that makes any sense. like a productive internal force. productive meaning, well not what you typically associate with the word. life-generating i guess. feeding off of conflict like she does.

am i like that? i hope not. i like messing with people a bit, and being a hater sometimes. but idk. i try to keep to myself and do things mostly. that feels better.

today i did write, more transcribing, about 5 or so? notes app thingies, some bigger, some smaller, quite a few appended to other sections making it less of an issue of like, i won't need to find where to put them, instead, they're now parts of other big chunks that need their place.

i didn't begin drawing daan. i keep thinking though, doing all the characters i finished the game with, that would be a good milestone for me, art-wise, it'd make me learn a lot i think. so i hafta!!

okay, other stuff. tomorrow i'm gonna post pictures from the fair, but i have 2 days of selfies, here's from when we went grocery shopping, i thought it was a cute look idk:

and then me todayayayay:

i like how i look in these a lot... very not ugly but i felt ugly at the pumpkin patch. so... win some lose some i suppose.

maybe i'll say more about this tomorrow, i'll try to, i should try and think deeply about something... but there was some ai generated stuff at the pumpkin patch, super obvious, or, i guess not really, if you're looking you'd see but nobody's really looking. i guess i can just talk about it now but looking at it with my friends, pointing and laughing, and thinking about how these images just work because they're gestures of cultural images, cowboys, aliens, you know, it just functions, no one notices or cares, so i don't know. these images exist now as a sort of thing beyond even 'image' i mean they're like, you don't contend with it, we're so surrounded with images/spectacle that we don't even need to interact with the image, it shapes us, reinforcing us constantly you know, or reinforcing itself upon us, it's the mechanism ai imagery relies on. it's so odd. it's hard to feel positive about it in any way when confronted with it like that, like, here is this infinitely reproducible cultural image, forever, here it is kind of rotten, fucked up, but all it being fucked up and melty, obviously...faulty ? in some way, these faulty images, all that says is rather than something else happening, that's a muck that could be shaved off better off the infinite reproduction line, 3d printing bits that you need to sand down i guess. it's really really odd. it's just shapes now, shape of cowboy, alien, whatever, the shapes then tell you okay, i'm in this theme, i recall someone saying these things help us get closer to sludge, undifferentiated mass, something that makes me think of 'uncreated night' what milton described in paradise lost, it seems less like that, it really is so totally from a perspective, and maintaining a perspective that these images are useful, it's so custodial, it's so useful, it helps create something where something more abstract, something like a white wall, nothing but where you are right now, night in a dusty place with some rocks and terrible food, some rides, that's not just it anymore, you're somewhere a little more themed, it's easier to swallow because it shows you something. showing you something, everything has to show you something, ai imagery is really the endpoint of us needing to be bathed in images constantly, to have the spectacle unfold for us, for these things to be/surround ourselves with, subsumed by the image. it's not about the fact they steal even. it's that this perspective is reproduced, it's that it maintains it. it is mechanical maintenance of a perspective and ideology. i ought to be more... precise about this. but i'm sleepy, it's hard i hope i'm making sense. but this is the mechanism by which alienation is maintained, isn't it, that there's all these things, sketched out, reproduced, ways to be, and not just ways to be, but paths of enjoyment drawn out, not just paths of enjoyment, but images of history, images of out there, images of fun, refers back to numerous other things, we're now seeing the referring back, we're in the mechanical use of these images to more speedily keep up an illusion, the illusion never needed much work or creativity, it's why these are so ready to be used here, just as stuff in the background, that there is a background to life, that this is... life has a backdrop, places need to be certain ways. i don't know... i feel i need something more solid under me to speak about the spectacle here, and the custodial function but the fact, i don't know, the fact it's things you'd never give second thought to, only if you look to see the faults, it feels janitorial, a perfectly unthinkable place, as in, you cannot think about it, you pass through it, focus on the important stuff i suppose, the important part being that you're having fun and totally not being scammed by the ticket prices for rides... and that you're totally not absorbing images which quietly impress upon you, no matter how flimsy they are, what kind of place you're at, and the content of them, everything is so normal.

everyone thought that ai would always be so weird and fucked up, artists always try so hard to not have fucked up anatomy, but ai proves, as does some other art i guess, that if you make something that seems normal enough, people will vaguely look, as we all vaguely 'look' at plenty of images day in, day out, inundated with the things, and accept it.

it's complex and strange, it feels really strange. it feels like there is so much to express, seeing it in the wild like this, not just online, not just in something made to be on the computer, you know... and not from just... some guy, but adorning rides and games at the pumpkin patch. there's plenty of other things out there like that i'm sure, but this feels really, i dunno, these machines, you assume they're decently old, but this is like, they're so so so current, up to date. still death-trappy but the images are new and current, 'current' fidelities at least, it's so much, it's almost as if that aspect as well, within a fidelity that enables the looking past the thing, the creation of the profoundly normal image, the correct image, as in, it shifts, continuously, can be regenerated, but at its root, it will be the thing you remember or know. or the cultural object you know, without any real, as it's derived from some kind of fiction.

i dunno. is this silly? i guess. i try to remain ambivalent or, i guess, i just want my critiques to be different from those which defend copyright, they evidently are still, but it feels really odd to see it like this, just in a place for kids basically, you know. is this just where we are now? i thought it'd be a little bit out. but it's now, you know. i thought stuff like that willy wonka thing was more special. as in, i dunno, unique for being a scam. now that it's been figured out how to make these things reinforce the cultural norms and assumptions, i dunno. it feels very fast, and more easy, than it was with other art forms. maybe not. photography one could say, that was used quickly, anything i suppose always was. but the technology itself, the methods, they feel pointed at this use. passing under a range of being detected or cared about because of the way the images have the dslr high resolution thing going on. i dunno i don't know i dun know.

funny how i get up and walk around and get new ideas:

first, that this once again illustrates the super-human, not as in, super-human like superman or something, but super human as in very human, surpassing nothing, qualities of ai, that it is in line with thinking towards efficiency, ascendancy, teleology applied to all domains, everything can 'be better' and better means a streamlining of the factory floor. thought here as well about scenes from megalopolis, especially the one of the ape's back straightening, the posture... the posture, nothing post-human here this is the imagination directed at the future seeing how to work out right now, this is the teleological fantasy materially instantiated. ai images on carnival rides.

second, this is the more interesting and disquieting thing for me, is that what i described as flimsy images, and we have to be careful to not discuss the quality of these images in terms of ugly, and so on, 'poorly made', but qualities of believability, as in things related to fingers, stuff that convinces you, what you're looking at refers to reality or what one can see, at least, in some way. this is why artists pay mind to anatomy and things, and there are plenty who distort it greatly, but this is, even if done through automatism, even if pointless or something, or, i don't know, this is really beside the point, frequently artists will do things beyond regular or do things which may make their work unbelievable, regarding style, distancing themselves from 'life' or reality. why is it that ai gives me this sense of reinforcing it, i do not think it is because i am wrong, it's not really contradictory, it's simply that ai, by collating so many images, it mirrors a populist vision, it simply agrees with the basic image, it reproduces that thing, it's not flimsy since it agrees with that essential image, perhaps, it's flimsy in any sense of "believable image" and believable here does not mean you believe it is real, it really means, just that it has some tethering to formal constraints common even in kitsch stuff, that things be regular in 'that' way, as in, santa has 5 fingers, instead of, santa at the highest resolution possible, brightest cheeks imaginable, happy as can be. it functions on emotions in ways, as all kitsch does but it does so without needing grounding, or, we are beyond needing grounding because what is sought after, desired, and reproduced, are images which agree, again the populist angle becomes salient here i feel like, it agrees with the crowds, a futurism which propels strong images, or, useless images strongly.

okie dokie... i need to sleep,

so,

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[felilly]

the mark(s).

pairing: leeknow x reader | best friend to lovers au, childhoodfriend!leeknow, neighbor!leeknow, nerd!leeknow

word count: 2.488 words

tw: nsfw content — humiliation, marking, thigh riding, pet names, breast playing, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (pls play safe dont do it), a lot of praising.

note: english is not my first language, this story might have some grammar errors.

"Argh I can't do it anymore!" you slam your head to the table and throw away the pen you held before. It's been 2 hours since you asked Minho to jump to your room from his window bedroom because you just remembered you have a quiz tomorrow. You're suck at math, hopeless even. So you decided to wake your childhood friend who is also your neighbor Minho to come teach you math.

Ruffling his hair, Minho threw his head to the sofa "I should be the one saying that! It's been 2 hours and you can't even solve 5 questions with the same formula. What the heck y/n!" Minho takes off his glasses, massages his knitted brows while you lay your head on the table with your hair covering your face.

"But it's so boring and you can't expect me to remember the whole formulas when I have no fun trying to learn it" You finally lift your head and now place it on the sofa. Minho is sitting on the sofa while you're on the floor, so your head is now positioned beside his thigh. You turn your head towards his direction and stare at his exposed thigh. It still surprises you whenever you see his thigh, because how can your nerd childhood friend have this thick and toned sexy thigh when all he does is study in his bedroom every night?

"So you're blaming me because my teaching method is boring?" Minho asked, surprising you from your thoughts and making you lift your head to meet his eyes.

"Yes"

"And you're saying you can learn easily if you have fun?"

"Correct"

"Then let's have some fun."

He straightens his back and pulls you into his lap from the back, resting his hands on your hips. "Minho what the fuck? P-put me down!" You squirm trying to get back to your spot before, but Minho's grip on your waist is too strong. He pulls you closer, making your back fall on his chest, then puts his lips close to your ear and whispers "I'm gonna give you a point for each correct answer and you can exchange every 10 marks for a special prize." Then proceed to nip your ear gently. You whine and suddenly feel weak as you questioned "a-and if I got it wrong.. W-what will you do?" You whimper as his one hand slowly travels from your hip to your inner thigh.

"If you got it wrong.." Minho gives it a gentle squeeze then suddenly, he slaps your ass with another hand harshly. You let out a surprised moan, almost screaming, but immediately put your hands together on your mouth to muffle your voice. "I will give you punishment for each wrong answer" You swear you could feel him smirking from his tone when he's answering you, and ofcourse you have to curse him inside your head for that.

"Now, now, kitten. How could you answer those questions without holding your pen?" Minho gently removes both your hands from your mouth and gives you the pen you threw earlier. "Oh and I hope you can lower your voice. Don't forget your parents are sleeping downstairs" He tells you while pushing your upper body towards the coffee table gently where your books and notes are scattered.

Here you are now, sitting on Minho's lap with your upper body on the coffee table not so far while doing some math problems, trying to get the correct answer. Not so comfortable.

You couldn't get the first three questions correct, so Minho makes you arch your back a little to make your ass lift up a bit and smack it three times. You feel aroused by the pain on your ass and the way he made you arch your back, making your clit rub against his bare thigh, but you try your best to concentrate and finish this humiliating study session asap.

After eight more slaps on your ass and another 55 minutes, you finally solved 10 math problems correctly. Your panties are drenched, your forehead is sweating, now you lay down your head and upper body helpless on the table. The sight Minho sees of you sitting on his laps with noticeable wet panties, messy hair, and sweat making his dick hardening. He smirks and then slowly lifts your upper body back on his chest.

"Good girl, you did very amazing y/n. I hope you remember everything I taught and do well tomorrow" Minho says gently while patting your head and parting the sticking hair on your forehead, tucking it behind your ear. "Now for your reward.." He slips down your spaghetti strap tank top, moves your hair into one side and you can feel his lips touching your skin.

"10 points for 10 correct answers."

Suddenly, Minho slammed his lips on your right neck and sucked it hard. You screamed because of the sudden contact and quickly put your hands on your mouth again to stop your own voice. Your scream slowly becomes a whimper, then a moan as Minho's hands travel your body everywhere and pull your top down to your stomach, exposing your bare chest.

Suddenly you hear a knock on your door.

"Y/n is everything okay?" Both you and Minho freeze when you hear your mother's voice calling you from the other side of the door. "I heard you scream. Did something happen?" You are slightly panicking because you don't want your mother to open the door only to see her daughter sitting on her childhood friend's lap with naked top.

Minho takes a look at your face and smirks "Go on, answer your mother before she comes in." He whispers in your ears

"Because I won't stop." He attacks your shoulder with another bite and sucks it. You hold another muffled moan and try to collect your voice "Y-yeah I'm okay. Just.. a-ah a little bit frustrated from studying!" You lied, trying your best to sound as normal as possible while Minho's hand kneading your left breast.

"Okay don't stay up too late." You heard your mom reply and walked away from your room.

Just when you're about to let out a sigh of relief, Minho abruptly pinches your nipple and gives you the third mark under your jaw. You gasp and unconsciously rock your hips against his thigh, making him clenches his thigh and help you rocking your hips. "Fuck.. Kitten you're drenching all over my thigh.." Minho growls, as a wet spot of your slick makes his thigh soaked. You moan as you feel your clit is satisfied by the contact with his thick thigh.

"Mi-Minho.. Ah- shit… Minho-" You whimper when he places the 4th mark on the back of your neck, paints it purple while kneading your breast and moving your hips with the other hand. "Shush.. Be a good girl and wait patiently for your prize. I haven't finished putting the remaining mark on you" Minho whispers as he slips his hands off your breast to your other hip. Your mind is clouded. All you could do now is only nod and moan louder as he picks up pace a bit more.

Your muffled moan and soaked pussy turn him on even more. He pulls your body even closer to his and leaves two more marks on your back. You could feel his boner on your ass and you automatically grind on that. "F-fuck" Minho hiss at the sensation. He flipped your body so now you are sitting on his lap facing him. He lost it when he see your erotic expression breathing hard, covering in sweat, with hickeys all over your neck. Without warning, he uses one hand to grab your ass harshly, pulling you closer and connecting his lips to yours. His kiss is like heaven, you feel like your head is light when he sucks on your lower lips and inserts his tongue to explore your mouth. His tongue teases yours before swirling it together and pushes inside your mouth even deeper.

You pull apart when you're out of breath, creating a saliva string between you two. But Minho didn't give you time to process and immediately put his lips on your collarbone to leave the 7th mark. He trailed a kiss from your collarbone to your nipple and sucked it like a baby. You throw your head back because of the sensation and run your fingers on his soft locks. Minho sucks the skin on each of your side boobs and leaves 2 other marks then back to swirl his tongue on your other nipple. With his mouth sucking your niple, one hand groping your ass and the other kneading your breast, you feel overwhelmed and grip his hair even tighter.

"M-Minho.. Please..!" You whine with teary eyes and grind your clit on his hard on. He growls when your pussy grinds his boner and your pretty voice begging for him. He puts his last mark on your throat, sucking it harshly. His mouth and hands slip off you and push you away to take a better look at your body.

You have purple marks all over your body. He places it on your neck, throat, shoulders, back, under your jaw, collarbone, and breast. It's everywhere. He admires you like you're one of his canvas filled with his artwork. He pulls you back closer to his body, his erection brushed against your clothed pussy as he kissed you again. His hands squeezed your ass, earning a whimper from you. He barely gave you a chance to breathe.

He carries you to your bed with lips still connecting to yours then puts you gently on the bed, his body hovering over you. "My pretty kitten has been a really good girl.. I think it's time to reward her now, right?" Minho whispers sensually next to your ear, his one hand dangerously close to your throbbing pussy. You nod and moan louder when he slides a finger to draw a line on your wet slick. "Yes… F-ahh.. fuckㅡ Yes Minho p-please.." You moan, lingering your hands around his neck to pull him closer.

"Tell me what you want princess and that will be your prize for being such a good girl today." Minho praises you while traveling a kiss from your ear to your neck.

"Y-you.. I want you Minho" you whine softly, pressing his head on your neck to feel him harder.

Minho chuckled darkly "But dont you already have me here? Tell me what you want me to do." He rolled his tongue on your nipple making you arch your back.

"I.. Ahㅡ I want you to f-fuck me! P-please.. Bury your dick deep inside me and make me feel good..!" You moan and look at him with teary eyes full of lust. At that moment, something inside him snapped.

His hands pulled your pajama shorts and panties in one move, he threw the fabric carelessly, revealing your wet glistening pussy. Minho groans at the sight, he then runs a hand on your thigh while sucking on your thigh skin. He peels off his t-shirt and shorts, throws it somewhere in your room, revealing his toned body and his hard on dick leaked with precum and angry red tip. Your face turns red when you see what he's been hiding all this time behind his nerdy look. He can't help but chuckle at your cute expression. He positioned himself back to you. His chest pressed against yours as he pushed you down on the mattress.

Minho gave you a peck on your lips before positioning his dick on your entrance. "You ready?" he asked. You put your arms back around his neck again and nod, whimpering a small yes. He slowly enters your throbbing pussy as you clench at his size, earning a growl from him. "Y/n.. S-stop clenching- fuck.." Minho tries to push even deeper, searching for your deepest part. "S-shit sorry.. I ahㅡ I can't, y-you're too.. big…" You can't help but dig your nails on his back, leaving some crescent moon that will not fade till tomorrow. You can feel his dick fill you perfectly. He lets you adjust him for a moment before pulling his dick out slightly before pushing in again. You moan his name like a prayer, pulling his body closer till there is not even a tiny space left between you two. His thrust becomes even harder, Minho's hand sneaks to your hips, holding them in a bruising grip as he pin you down and pound you hard on his dick, his hips move faster to ram your tiny hole with incredible speed.

"M-Minho!" you gasped "F-feels good.. ah fuck-!"

You moan when his thumb comes in contact with your clit, gently rubbing the sensitive button. Pleasure built in you like you're in euphoria. He fucked you like you're the most precious, beautiful, ethereal person in this world. With his last thrust, you cried out his name, burying your face in his neck as your orgasm hit you like a brick wall, making your whole body shaking in pleasure. Your pussy clamped down around Minho's dick, you let your juice flow out around him with every pulse of pleasure that slammed into you.

"Fuck.. So good baby, you feel so good for me" Minho grunted, thrusting up into you a few more times before he found his own release, moaning your name as his cum shot up into you and filled you inside.

He plopped down his body on you, dick still connecting with you slowly softening. He lifts his body a bit and brushes some hair sticking on your face. Minho patted your head a few times until he saw you breathing more calmly, then pulled his dick out slowly making you flinch because of the overstimulation.

"Never thought I could finally fuck my childhood crush." Minho said, making you look at him. "Wait, you had a crush on me?" You asked him, can't believe what you just heard. "Still do. I would refuse you for ruining my beauty sleep if I didn't"

You give him an unbelievable look, then smile and close the distance between you two and kiss him on the lips. "Idiot. You should have tell me sooner so we could fuck sooner too." You giggle.

Minho looks at you and blink his eyes a few times, confused. He then chuckled and patted your head "Oh well, we're a couple now. We can fuck anytime you want." He said hugging you tight.

"You did great today, I hope you still remember the things I taught you after I fucked your brain out" Minho smirks while playing with your hair.

You punch him playfully "Thanks for today, asshole" You mumble, hiding your happy smile.

"Thanks for the lesson? Or thanks for the good fuck?" He teases you, making you push his body off you and fall from the bed.

"You're so annoying!"

[mha-princess]

Crossing Lines - Part 2/3 [Bakugou x Fem!Reader]

part one is here | part three is here

Genre: Angst | 18+ | College AU | Ongoing |

A/N: The next part will most likely be the last part, as I don’t want to draw this out to the point where it’s annoying (⁍̴̆◡⁍̴̆ )⊃♡- Anako

Word Count: 2.5k+

Warnings: bakugous an asshole/very minor violence/explicit language / mentions of sex

Summary: falling for Katsuki and keeping it a secret was easy, but still being secretly in love with him after developing a friends with benefits relationship is hard.

Masterlist | Request Rules | Request Box

“Wait how long has this been going on ?” Mina questioned shoving bits of bagel into her mouth.

“ A month....... maybe five.” You shrug standing up to throw your plate away. You had invited Mina over for breakfast to talk about what had happened last night between you and Bakugou.

“So you’ve been hooking up with Bakugou for that long? I didn’t even notice, well no one noticed, not me, not Kami, not Kiri. Speaking of Kami and Kiri, where are they? I thought you invited them?”

“I did. They can’t just walk down a flight of stairs to get here, not everyone lives off campus.” You giggle at her unawareness and sit back down at the kitchen table. Mina nods.

“So what did you say her name was.” Mina questions, It takes you a minute to recall.

“Hayami?” You say slightly uncertain.

“Hayami? Yeah that definitely doesn’t ring a bell.” A few minutes late you and Mina are startled by the slam of your door.

“Hey, Hey, Hey.” Kirishima announces happily strolling over to the kitchen table and taking a seat, Kaminari following behind him.

“Ejiro how the hell did you just get in here?” Kirishima laughs and holds up a key.

“Bakubro said he stopped by and he accidentally grabbed this when he left.” He said tossing you the key. “So how are my favorite beauticools doing today?”

“Not good we need help with something.” Mina says taking her phone from her pocket.

“If it’s anything about classes we can’t help.” Kaminari says taking Minas bagel and finishing it.

“It has nothing to do with classes, as if we’d ask you two himbos for help.” Mina rolls her eyes. “Do you guys know a girl named, Hayami?”

Kirishima furrows his brow. “Hayami? I don’t think I ever even heard of the name.”

You turn to Kaminari who also has his phone out.

“What about you, Nari?”

“One moment.” He walks over to Kirishima and hands him his phone, leaving you and Mina to stare at eachother.

“Ohhhhhh Hayami! I do remember her! We met her the night me, Kami, and Bakugou crashed the arcade.” Kirishima facepalms. “She gave us her number but I don’t think any of us ever reached out.”

Mina scoffs. “Someone did.”

Kaminari and Kirishima looks at you both confused.

“Come again?” Kaminari says setting his phone on the table.

“Yeah? Is there something we’re not in on? Why are you worried about her out of all people?” Kirishima questions leaning forward in his chair.

Mina then explains to them your situation. Kaminari and Kirishima look at eachother in shock.

“Y/N! That’s like rule number one of friends with benefits! You don’t question outside affairs!” Kaminari groans.

“I know! But I love him Kaminari and I need to know if there’s someone else. I still have hope. Hope that he might like me. ” You say pain evident in your voice.

“Well if it’s any help I think I have her Instagram.” He says taking pity on you and opening Instagram. After finding it he quickly flips his phone face down.

“On second thought maybe that’s not a good idea.” He laughs nervously causing everyone at the table to look at him confused.

“Kaminari let me see your phone.” Kirishima says, standing up from the table. Kaminari quickly grabs his phone.

“I don’t think that a good idea, really.” He says slowly backing away as Kirishima grew closer.

Kirishima lunges at him and in an instant Kaminari is pinned to the ground.

“Y/N, catch.” He chunks the phone to you. Your hands easily grasping it from the air. Mina comes over, peeking over your shoulder and immediately she sighs, yeah this was a bad idea.

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

“Maybe it’s not what it looks like?” She says, blatantly ignoring the facts. Your eyes begin to burn.

Kirishima releases Kaminari from his hold and they walk over to you.

“He doesn’t even go to the cafe with us. He says it makes him look stupid to be in such a soft setting. But there he is with a girl. I mean she looks like his type. Cute button nose, black hair, brown eyes.” You clench your jaw, forcing back tears.

“Y/N don’t be like that! Your Bakugou’s type or else he-.” You cut Kaminari off mid sentence.

“If I was his type he wouldn’t be with her.” Tears streak down your cheeks and leave wet stains on the table. After a minute you get up from the table and grab a napkin to wipe your eyes.

“I’m sorry guys. I’m not his girlfriend I shouldn’t be upset.” Your friend come to your aid and crowd around you, engulfing you in a big hug.

“Don’t apologize for the way you feel babe.” Mina says.

“Yeah Y/N you have feelings. That’s only human.” Kirishima’s hold on you tightens a bit.

“And we’re always here.” Kaminari adds. After a few minutes of letting you bask in your sadness, they release you form their hold.

“Sorry for the hold up guys, but we need to get to class.” You chuckle and wipe the remaining tears from under your eyes.

“Yeah Mrs.Chu is always on me and Mina’s case about attendance.” Kaminari rolls his eyes at the thought of that lady.

“Soooo am I drivi-.”

“NO!” You all cut off Mina before she can finish. Today had all ready started off bad, and endangering your life with Mina reckless driving was the last thing you needed.

“I’ll drive.” Kirishima says grabbing his keys and opening the door. “Now come children, before we’re late.”

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

The day couldn’t possible go by more slowly. You couldn’t remain focused due to your situation, the situation that you started I must stress. You know it shouldn’t be pestering you, but you just couldn’t handle losing Katsuki to some random girl.

From the beginning you found yourself drawn to Katsuki. Yeah that might sound cliche, but it was the truth. The ash blonde hair that was slightly unkempt, the red eyes that could cut deep even if you were just glancing, and a smirk that held so many inaudible warnings. He was unruly, but at the same time beautiful.His personality was arrogant and short tempered, but that just made him all the more alluring.

The unapproachable heart throb is what he was. Pretty in the face, but dementing and vulgar in many different ways. Ways that should've been a warning, but weren't.  

When you first started hanging around Katsuki it was mostly kirishima's doing. He felt that all his friends should at least be formally aquantainted with one another, so some days you would have study sessions at your apartmet other days you would all would crash at the dorms. And every moment you were around Katsuki the more you were drawn to him.

One day Kirishima had left you two alone at the dorms to go re-up on snacks with Mina and Kaminari. Now this was most likely the only time you would be alone with Katsuki, so you took it upon yourself to ask him a couple of ‘questions’.

“Katsuki?”

“What?” he answers his eyes never leaving his phone.

The top half of his body hangs off the edge of his bed, his shirt barely covering his stomach.You go over and sit on the floor in front of him. Slowly, you reach up and run your hands through his coarse head of hair.

“The hell are you doing?” He questions, but doesn’t stop you from playing in his head.

“Can I ask you something.” The tone of your voice was soft but serious.

Bakugou then rolls over onto his stomach and throws his phone into the abyss of sheets beside him. He stares at you and the nervous you should’ve felt earlier makes it’s way into your body.

“You gonna speak or what?” He says annoyance leaking from his voice. You roll your eyes.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“Nope.” He responded rolling back over and grabbing his phone.

“Like you’ve never had one? No boyfriends, no girlfriends, no significant others?”

“I answered the damn question, no boyfriends, no girlfriends, nothing, relationships aren’t my kinda thing. The hell are you asking me this for anyway? ” He rolls back over, his eyes cutting deep into your thoughts.

“W-What about hookups?” Bakugou’s face goes blank for a minute before that cocky smirk makes its way to his face.

“Tcht is this what you were going on about? If you wanted some dick you couldve just said that.” His smirk grows as he watches you panic.

“We can hookup if that’s what you wanted to ask. But I have lines that shouldn’t be crossed.” He says rolling back over and chucking you his phone.

“Put your number in.” That cocky son of a bitch, not even letting you answer or explain yourself. I mean it’s not like you would’ve said no anyway. You hand him his phone back.

“Y/N wants to be fuck buddies with me? I didn’t peg you as the type.” He grins, his eyes burning right through you.

“Well you said you aren’t looking for a relationship, so I don’t see the harm in it.” You shrug. Bakugou nods in agreement, but raises a brow.

“I know I said I’m down but we can’t do any lovey dovey shit. This has to be strictly no feelings attached.”

Now, after he finished that statement a bell should’ve went off in your head. From that point you should’ve know that liking Katsuki wasn’t a good idea and hooking up with him would only lead to you hurting yourself, but clearly you were blinded. Blinded by the thought of him and blinded by the want of him because if you would’ve noticed you wouldn’t of still been sitting at your desk half dazed ten minutes after class had let out reminiscing about how you got yourself into this mess.

“Y/N, aren’t you going to leave, clearly your not staying behind for extra help, as you didn’t even write down the notes that were on the board.” You look down at your notebook, yeah it’s blank.

“I’m so sorry Mrs, I’ve had a lot on my Min-.”

“I don’t need your excuses, just get going so I can lock up.” You nod and grab your things. Upon picking up your phone you notice a message from Kirishima.

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

Message

Kirishima :)

Ummmm please don’t bite my head off for this but something came up and I had to leave early, Mina and Kaminari have dance practice and I didn’t want you to be stranded.............. So Bakugou is going to take you home, be at the front of the school. Ok? Ok. Love you ttyl 😘

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

Your mouth hung ajar at the message. Why? Kirishima why? Why would he set you up for failure like that? You sigh as you walk out of the school doors.

It took a few minutes before Bakugou arrived and when he did your day only worsened. As you drew closer tot he car it was clear that someone else was in he front seat. A black haired, brown eyed someone. With gritted teeth you open the back door of the car and chunk your stuff in not saying a thing.

“Hello!” The girl exclaims as she turns around in her seat, sounding way to preppy and happy about this situation.

“You are?” You say not the least optimistic, Bakugou glaring at you from the rear view mirror.

“I’m Hayami.” She smiles and holds out your hand for you to shake. You turn and look out the backseat window.

“What are you his girlfriend?” Your jaw clenches as her face goes red. You stop her before she can answer that question.

“Katsuki can you drive? I have somewhere I need to be.” Hayami turns around in her seat as Bakugou mashes the gas.

The drive is silent until Bakugou starts taking a bunch of unfamiliar turns.

“What are you doing my house isn’t this way?” You say sitting up in your seat.

“I’m dropping Hayami off first.” He says pulling into an unfamiliar driveway.

“Thank you Katsuki. We should do this the same time next week.” She smiles and he nods in approval. She then steps out of the car and shuts the door. He sits there for a minute.

“Are you going to get in the front seat or stay back there like a dumbass.” You roll your eyes.

“Fuck you.”

Bakugou quickly puts the car in reverse and once again begins taking a bunch of unknown turns.

“Where the hell are you taking me?” He doesn’t say anything, but a few minutes later you find yourself in a vacant parking lot. He then gets out and climbs into the backseat.

“What the fuck is your problem?” He says shutting the door.

“I’m not the one with the damn problem.” You cross your arms and look away from him.

Annoyed with the way you were acting his hand grabs a hold of your cheeks, pressing your mouth inward as his lips ghost over your ear.

“Your a fucking brat.” You pry his hands from your face.

“I’m not a brat your a fucking asshole. Breaking your own damn rules. Did you tell your little girlfriend how the night before you took her on a date you were just at my house fucking me? Or did you tell her how many times you ate my pussy in that front passenger seat? I bet she doesn’t know anything about that now does she?” Your voice bitter and slightly heavy.

“I’m not fucking her, unlike you she has the potential to be more than a fuck toy.” Yeah he shouldn’t of said that. Upon finishing his sentence the palm of your hand quickly made impact with the side of his face, causing a sound that couldve been heard if anyone was near by.

“Take me home.” Your choke as your eyes began to burn. But he doesn’t move he stares at you still in shock from the hit. This time you push him to make him gain contact with reality again.

“I said take me home!” You shout tears now fully rolling down your face. He doesn’t say anything, but you can tell he’s angry.

“Your fucking crazy Y/N. This, whatever the fuck we have going on is over. I don’t need your bullshit ruining what I have going on.” He says getting out of the backseat and back into the front.

The rest of the ride was silent. Bakugou was speeding clearly not wanting to be around you after slapping him senseless. Although you wanted to, you didn’t cry, you’d rather wait to release your tears when you got to the comfort of your home.

He slammed on the breaks as he pulled into tge front of your apartment complex. No words were exchanged. You simply grabbed your things and shut the door behind you. He didn’t apologize, hell he didn’t even look back to make sure you got into your apartment, he just drove off.

When you finally made it to the comfort of your room. A weird sense of pain hit you. It wasn’t the same kind of pain you felt yesterday, it was a unfamiliar pain. A pain so severe it caused your heart to physically hurt from your emotions that were running rampant.

A toy. That’s all you were to him and all you were ever going to be. Frustrated and a sobbing mess you take a piece of paper and a pen and begin to writing.

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

People always say it’s better to have loved and to have lost, than to never of loved at all, but what if you’ve lost everything including yourself? What if you loved someone so much that you were willing to give them everything including your body, in exchange for nothing but a few minutes of being close them? Am I pathetic for wanting him to love me? Am I even more pathetic for having ignored the signs? The signs that he was no good for me. Bakugou Katsuki. The epitome of my pain, the epitome of my hurt, but the one I love most. It’s better to have loved and to have lost, than to never of loved at all, but I’ve lost all worth, all self love, and all reason to even try. ─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

You fold the tear stained paper and slide it into your desk drawer. You then grab your phone and make a much needed call.

“Yes?”

“Is this Izuku?”

[cacoetheswriting]

fluff alphabet - spencer reid

A = Attractive (what do they find attractive about the other?)

It would be safe to say you’re strangerly attracted to his genius. Many people find it annoying, how he spits facts completely unwarranted, but not you. His vast knowledge of quite literally anything is what sparked your interest in the young doctor in the first place.

Spencer on the other hand is captivated by your smile. The kindness behind it; how truly genuine it always is. He especially likes when he is the reason that smile spreads across your face, from cheek to cheek, illuminating your perfect features.

B = Baby (do they want a family? why/why not?)

Definitely yes, and you know Spencer would make a great dad. He has a way with kids and it comes to him so naturally. Frankly you can’t wait for the day you get to tell him you’re expecting.

C = Cuddle (how do they cuddle?)

One arm wrapped securely around you, pulling you in as close to him as possible. Your head resting on his shoulder landing just below his chin. He smells your hair taking in the scent of your shampoo before placing a soft kiss on the top of your head. 

D = Dates (what are dates with them like?)

He likes to take you out to the movies where you share popcorn and a large soda. A lot of coffee dates where he enlightens you on books he read or reread and you fill him in on the latest pop culture gossip. Nothing too adventurous but never boring.

E = Everything (“you are my ____” (e.g my life, my world…))

“You’re my home.” Spencer whispered, his hands cupping your face. You blinked a couple of times registering what he just said but before you got a chance to respond he continued. “When I’m with you, I feel so comfortable and at peace. I can truly be myself around you, no judgement or scrutiny.” He took a soft breath. “When I’m with you I feel at home and that doesn't make much sense to me but you’ve told me before that not everything has to make sense. Especially when it comes to love.”

F = Feelings (when did they know they were falling in love?)

One evening at a bar with your friends you repeated a fact to the group that Spencer had told you earlier in the week. It caught him off guard because no-one really listens to the rambles that come out of his mouth. Yet here you were, the biggest smile on your face as you reiterated: “chewing gum boosts concentration.”. You glanced at the young doctor from across the table. His eyes lit up as they locked with yours. That’s when he knew. 

G = Gentle (are they gentle? If so, how?)

Spencer is one of the gentlest souls you have ever met. He has an incredibly pure and kind heart. He always puts you first and would never dare to do anything that could hurt you. Your happiness is his priority and even though he’s not the most physical person he always does everything in his power to make you see how loved you are. 

H = Hand/Hold (how do they like to hold? how do they like to hold hands?)

For many reasons he isn't the biggest fan of public displays of affection. But when he does hold your hand, he traces down your fingers gently with his own before intertwining them. He’d then lift your hand to his lips and place a soft kiss on your knuckle.

I = Impression (first impression/s)

At first Spencer found you quite hard to read. He’s usually not good at social cues or interactions therefore it took him longer than the rest of the team to really get to know you. 

You on the other hand were instantly mesmerised by the young doctor. The wealth of knowledge he possessed was captivating and in a way inspiring.

J = Joker (are they into pulling pranks?)

Definitely; Spencer loves a good practical joke. He also has quite a good sense of humour. Not everyone always understands his jokes but they never fail to make you giggle.

K = Kisses (how do they kiss?)

When Spencer kisses you he does so with all his might. Unlike his usual gentle demeanour, when he kisses you it’s always with immense passion. He cups your face with his hands and pulls you in as close as humanly possible. 

L = Love (who says I love you first?)

You do - however completely by accident. “Did you know nutmeg can be fatally poisonous?” Spencer asked as the barista handed you a brown paper bag with a pumpkin dessert bar inside. “A little dash of nutmeg in a pumpkin pie or on your eggnog gives it extra flavour Spencer.” You noted flashing him a smile. “Too much nutmeg, however, can be toxic. Two to three teaspoons of raw nutmeg can induce hallucinations, convulsions, pain, nausea, and paranoia that can last for several days.” He stated. You couldn't help but laugh. “I love you Spencer but I’m not going to die because of a sweet indulgence.” It took you a second to register what you just said. Your free hand travelled to your mouth covering it with a soft gasp. “Shit Spencer, I didn-” “You love me?” He interrupted. All you could do was nod in response. 

M = Memory (their favourite moment together)

After a particularly hard case Spencer drives you home, like he has done so many times before. He walks you to the door of your apartment and waits until you are safely inside. He places a soft kiss on your forehead and says goodnight - which is when you ask him to come inside, stay the night. Rather than going to sleep however you stay up baking what turned out to be the worst brownies either of you have ever tasted. 

N = Nickel (do they spoil? do they buy the person they love everything?)

Spencer is not an overly material person. He prefers to shower you with words of affirmation and subtle compliments. Although when he does give you a gift it is always extremely thoughtful and definitely something that means a lot to the two of you.

O = Orange (what colour reminds them of their other half?)

If he had to associate a colour with you it would be yellow. Yellow - the colour of optimism. The colour of sunshine and enthusiasm. It stimulates the left side of the brain, helping with clear thinking and quick decision making. 

P = Pet names (what pet names do they use?)

He shortened your name. It was unintentional when it first happened but you liked the way it sounded so it stuck. You on the other hand, if you’re not using his first name, usually call him ‘honey’ or ‘sugar’ which he used to hate. If you’re feeling giddy you’ll call him by the original nickname you came up before you were dating: ‘suspence’.

Q = Questions (what are the questions they’re always asking?)

“Are you okay?” - you are his priority therefore he likes to make sure nothing is ever wrong. “Do you need anything?” “How are you feeling?” 

R = Rainy Day (what do they like to do on a rainy day?)

When the weather outside is far from ideal and the two of you are not out working a case, Spencer likes to curl up on the couch with you. He’ll put on an old back and white movie as you provide the drinks.  

S = Sad (how do they cheer themselves/each other up)

If he’s feeling sad you find yourself reaching for a random book on his shelf and reading the first few chapters aloud. His head rests in your lap, eyes closed, as he listens to the sweet sound of your voice. 

If you’re feeling down, Spencer will draw you a bath. He’ll light a couple of candles and dot them around the bathroom. He’ll play relaxing music through the speaker of his phone as the two of you enjoy the warm water together. 

T = Talking (what do they love to talk about?)

The short answer, everything. You never run out of topics to discuss and the conversation flow is always pleasantly smooth. 

U = Unencumbered (what helps them relax?)

Quite simply you. No-one knows Spencer the way you do and even though the two of you haven't been together for very long you know exactly what to say or do to calm him down.

V = Vaunt (what do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

Spencer is modest which is one of the things you admire about him. The one thing he truly shows off is his knowledge of pretty much everything - even if he does it unintentionally. 

W = Wedding (when, how, where do they propose?)

“Almost fifty percent of all marriages in the United States end in divorce or separation.” Spencer said turning off the documentary you just finished watching. “Researchers estimate that forty-one percent of all first marriages end in divorce.” He continued. “Well, lets hope when we get married we’ll be in the lucky fifty-nine percent that lasts.” You teased, a small smile circling your lips.

X = Xylophone (what’s their song?)

Let’s Groove by Earth, Wind & Fire. The song was queued by Penelope at one of Rossi’s famous get togethers - before you and Spencer were dating. She swayed and twirled, soon joined by Morgan, as the rest of the group watched and laughed. You glanced at the young doctor and before he got a chance to protest you dragged him into the middle of the room to dance. 

Y = You’re the ___ to my ___ (e.g the cookies to my milk, the macaroni to my cheese)

“You’re the Holmes to my Watson.” He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Why am I not Watson?” “Because you’re not that kind of doctor.” You nudged Spencer playfully. He couldn't help but laugh under his breath. “That is a terrible analogy.” “Terrible or not, it’s true.” 

Z = Zebra (if they wanted a pet, what pet would they get?)

He wouldn't want a pet for now. The job is too demanding, he’s away for long periods of time and there'd be no-one to take care of it. Perhaps in the future, when you’re married and have kids. Perhaps. 

-

[crown-anon]

aah i thought of a req!!!!! could i maybe request one shots or hcs (separate) w dream, sapnap, n wilbur with a s/o (preferred he/him!!) who draws a whole lot,, n one day they catch him drawing him?? tysm :]

@ghcstbnr asked

gn i just realized i made a typo i meant cc catching reader drawing them- but ty again :)

of course! it's kind of long, sorry about that

I took a little creative liberty with the notion of "catching you drawing." also Sapnap's looks kind of long but it's also dialogue heavy. if you want me to redo it, I will. hope you like it 💗

& a note to everyone else, I don't write for Wilbur yet! I only write for the dream team at this time. sorry about that! this will probably change in the future, though, so look out 👀

CW: swearing

format: one-shot

people: dreamwastaken, Sapnap

pronouns: dreamwastaken's piece is ambiguous, Sapnap's piece uses he/him

edited 27 April 2021

—

dreamwastaken

since he doesn't use his camera, you find yourself with your boyfriend in the studio more often than not. when he's gaming casually, you play together, or one of you will cheer the other one on. when he's streaming, sometimes you interact with the viewers, or read donations for him; sometimes you just sit next to him, soaking up his energy and warmth. when he's working long days and long nights to edit videos, you're content with just relaxing together in the same space. at times you have to drag him out to the kitchen to eat, or help him to bed if he passes out, but…he's really cute when he's focused. (and you're starting to think he does it on purpose just so you can dote on him.)

today is a little different. he's recording for a manhunt that's meant to drop in a couple days. you're quiet, trying to avoid disrupting them. you're perched up on the loveseat, staring fondly at him across the room. he's so animated, the way his eyes shine when he talks to his friends, how he tears up when he laughs…

Patches mews at you from the arm of the couch, as if to say, disapprovingly, I cannot believe how sickeningly sweet your inner monologue is.

and you try to understand where she's coming from, you really do, but the sun's starting to set, and the gentle rays slotting through the blinds are shifting from white to gold.

he looks so divine, you decide. it's unfair. how could I not love him? he's seriously pretty. and before you can stop yourself, you're sketching him out on your tablet. you glance up at him fast to get the details right, and look away just as quickly. he never meets your eyes. soon your whole page is covered in little Clays, capturing the way he feels, the way he acts, the way you feel about him. Patches jumps off the chair, with all the moving. and before you know it, you've drawn up a whole page of concept art of your unfairly beautiful boyfriend. Patches was right about me, you muse to yourself.

fuck. Patches. the same Patches who's been meowing at you for the better part of an hour, now sitting patiently at the door? there's no way Clay didn't pick up on all that noise, you fret. but he's still playing, looking intense as ever. relief washes over you, replacing the guilt.

come here, girl, you think to yourself, knowing Patches wouldn't have even understood you if you spoke. sorry to keep you waiting. and you rise, slipping quietly out the door with his cat in your train.

—

you're coming back to the studio. Patches, fed and sated, is napping in another room. opening the door, you have to stop yourself, you freeze. your boyfriend's kneeling on the ground, sitting on his heels, right next to the door—you'd have hit him if it opened any further.

"baby, what are you…" the words die on your tongue.

my book. my sketchbook. my sketchbook full of drawings of him. shit, he's gonna think I'm such a simp! the embarrassment, the shame, the fear, it's overwhelming you.

you hear your voice break. "…what happened to recording…?"

"finished half an hour ago," he says simply.

and that was that. for the first time in ages, the silence hanging between you was thick and heavy with tension. you wait. and wait. and wait. you wait for the criticism, the hate, the argument that never comes.

suddenly, he seems content with what he's seen, when he looks up at you adoringly, and takes one of your hands, giving it a soft squeeze. "is that…me?"

you've lost your voice, all you can do is nod.

"you…you think I'm beautiful?" he glows.

ah, I suppose I did write that, somewhere in there. you look away. all the things I've said…

he brings your hand up to his lips and leaves kisses on your knuckles.

you sound small. "do I not tell you that enough?" you pause. "that you're beautiful? that I love you?"

and just like that, his nervousness dissolves into euphoria. you both start laughing at the same time.

"oh my god—" he wheezes. "—you're so sappy."

"only for you," you blurt out, and start laughing harder. but he quiets, he hesitates.

"only for me," he repeats.

you sink down onto the floor next to him. he's staring so fondly at you, you can't help but smile back.

"only for you," you affirm.

he rests his hands on your knees, pulling himself closer to you. he's so close to you, you can feel his blush. you let your eyes close, softly.

but the kiss never comes. instead, you're met with a "then what about all those drawings of Patches?"

laying on the floor, tangled up in each other, in hysterics, you distantly think I hope he remembered to leave the call from recording earlier.

—

over dinner, you meet his gaze, and he gives you that look. that stupid, handsome look; the one with the smile and the danger behind his eyes. he makes a point of pausing mid-bite, but it takes you a minute to notice that he's stopped eating.

"what's up, honey?" you ask, sounding a little more concerned than you should have been.

he shrugs dramatically. "oh, nothing…just figured you'd appreciate a muse." there it was. the teasing. you knew it would happen eventually. but the tone, it's kind, it's tempting; gentle, unlike a serious jab.

so all you do is roll your eyes, but you can't help the way your mouth quirks into a smile. "you're so dumb," you murmur with affection, and shake your head at nothing in particular.

Patches curls her tail around your ankle as she passes you by.

—

on the couch hours later for movie night, you're the last one up. Patches is curled up in Clay's lap, purring. Clay, in turn, sleeps soundly in your lap. (you think if he could purr, he would, but he settles for humming softly when you play with his hair.) you might think it's funny looking back on it later, but it feels so tender and vulnerable now. you like calm evenings like this one. Studio Ghibli plays quietly on the flatscreen; you don't know which one, you're not really paying attention anymore.

you're busy tracing the contours of Clay's skin, feeling more than seeing his shape in the dark room. mapping him out in your mind, learning his figure like you're seeing him for the first time again. you think you understand him a little bit better, every day you spend together. and with confidence, you make your first stroke, illuminated by the moon.

—

Sapnap

you only barely stop yourself from drawing a big "X" across your paper. exhale, and start erasing furiously. don't rip the paper—well, we didn't need that sheet anyway. ball it up and throw it at the dark, cobwebbed corner of the room. along with the rest of your mistakes.

you're trying. you're really trying. but those lips. his fucking lips. fuck.

your boyfriend smiles at the camera as he gets a donation with a sweet message on it. it should be so easy. he's right there. right here.

you check the time. it's been an hour. you've been trying, and miserably failing, to get his lips right for an entire hour. today, at least. you scoff at yourself, your misery, and pinch the bridge of your nose. it isn't fair.

his camera's on, and he's live, so you know you can't be in there with him. nobody knows you're together, and you don't want know what kind of backlash to expect if people found out. so you've been avoiding his streams…the whole room where he streams, really.

you've kept yourself busy by drawing. and you've cycled through many subjects in your life, and eventually, been able to draw whatever you put your mind to with enough time and effort. the problem is, your sights have been set on Sapnap, even for months before you got together. okay, maybe that isn't the problem. the actual problem is that you fucking suck at drawing him.

you get going, start it out, do an okay job, but midway through screw it all up somehow. to make things worse, your reference is his 2D image. he doesn't…know that you draw him. you're terrified to say. so you can't use the real life Sapnap as a reference, like you would prefer.

ugh, and this one's ruined too. you rip it up and throw it at your growing pile of paper balls, but being tiny confetti-sized pieces of paper, they don't make it very far. great, something else to clean up later, you huff at your own thoughts. it isn't fair.

—

"[name]?" he calls for you. you're one step ahead, already opening the door. you can't remember when you got here and decided to brood outside his room.

"hey, do you think you can—" he tears his eyes from his camera, his waiting audience, to look up at you expectantly. when he sees you he stops immediately, looking concerned, standing to meet you.

"what is it?" your voice is flat.

out of view of the camera, he mouths, are you okay? you only shrug and avert your eyes.

he falters, contemplates, sits back down at his desk and starts to talk to his viewers. "hey guys, I'm sorry for the short notice, but I gotta cut this stream short. my…" he glances at you for approval, only to see you motioning with your hands as if to say, no, don't.

(you yourself don't really know what for. no, don't end the stream for me? no, don't out us like this?)

he looks back. "…my friend…something came up with my friend. I have to take care of it. it's really important." you can tell he has trouble finding the right words. you can tell it throws him off, he's acting out of character for his internet personality. do you blame him? isn't this your fault? "sorry again. bye guys!"

the second he made the last click, he gets up and pulls you into a hug. it's unexpected, it knocks the wind out of you. you're certain he feels the tension.

"babe…what's wrong?" it's muffled by your neck and the sweater you're wearing. you just hold him, saying nothing.

he pulls away and holds you by the shoulders. "look at me. what's wrong?"

you feel all the more embarrassed. it's so silly to be upset about. "I…I…well, it's a lot."

he shakes his head, to say I'm not going anywhere, but his expression softens, his grip loosens. "do you want to talk about it?"

you sigh. "it started as 'I can't draw for shit', then it became 'why am I afraid of asking you for help?', and finally, worst of all, 'why the fuck can't we be seen together?' it isn't fair. it's never been fair. I'm sorry."

he thinks about it for a second. "okay, what makes you feel like we can't be seen together?"

"are you joking?" you snap. "we're two fucking boyfriends. in this society." he didn't look hurt by the outburst, but the guilt crept in anyway. "…I'm sorry."

he shakes his head, "do you really think I'd let that happen? I wouldn't ever let anyone hurt you, darling. remember that."

"I know, I know…" you don't know what to say. "it's easy to forget, I guess."

"what are you afraid to ask me for help about?"

"I…" shit, you guess you have to tell him. close your eyes, breathe, "I've been drawing you. trying to draw you. but I can't, it never turns out right."

you peek, and he's red in the face, stuttering. "me? you draw me? of all the hot people out there?"

you furrow your eyebrows at him. "don't give me that shit. you know you're cute."

he shakes his head incredulously. "are we talking about the same person here?"

"dude, your smile is literally the most radiant fucking force of nature I have ever seen."

"you're hot too! why are you coming after me?"

"I'm not 'coming after you', you're being defensive about your looks, when you shouldn't be! you're gorgeous, baby."

you're both giggling like girls at a sleepover, the anger and frustration long forgotten. now it's a war of who can be more grossly in-love with the other.

"what part of me," he manages between laughs. "are you having trouble drawing?"

"oh god," you groan, remembering yourself and your dilemma. "your lips."

"my fucking lips? you would think that—"

"no," you warn. "shut up. don't say it. don't you dare say it."

he leans in close, his hands have moved up to cup your face. you shiver.

"don't worry," he grins. "I won't."

the kiss is long and sweet, nothing like the ones you've shared in the past. he takes his time, you savor each other. you feel time stop ticking, you feel your heart stop beating, you feel the way he tilts his head. you grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him in. and when you part, you're breathing heavy, in tandem.

"thanks," you manage. "but I needed to see your lips, not kiss you into next saturday."

"nah," he laughs. "I think you needed that too."

you choose your words thoughtfully. "do you need me, too?"

he hums, and—

ding!

dreamwastaken donated $69!

:)

you could die. you could really, seriously die.

the response is instant. you don't even see Sapnap move from you to the PC, flushed down to his neck, apologizing, apologizing, and apologizing again. "change of plans, guys, we're doing an art stream!"

the chat is filled with "huh?"s and "what?"s.

"huh? what?" you didn't have the time to process what just happened.

karljacobs: I thought we were doing a make-out-with-our-secret-boyfriends stream :(

he smiled warmly at you. "yeah. my lovely boyfriend is going to draw me! he's been wanting to for a really long time, and his art is really good. let's go get your stuff."

you're in so much shock that he makes it past you and out of the room, while you stand there waiting. after a pause much longer than you intended, you hurry after him.

—

down the hall, in your room, he's got your sketchbook tucked under his arm, closed. you're sure you left it open when you came out.

you only barely get the words out. "um, did you…go through it? please don't laugh."

your heart sinks when he laughs heartily, but he grabs your hand, resting it on your book, about to hand it off. but he holds you there for a second. "of course not. I respect your privacy." he ponders for a moment. "I respect you."

you can feel the sigh of relief when you let it out. "I…love you."

your holding your book now, as he moves to collect the boxes containing your pens and pencils and colors. he gets them all together, but before he picks them up to head back, he turns around to face you. "is this too much?"

you absently reach for a hand, tracing over the lines on his palms. and you think about it. am I okay? is this too much?

"I don't think so. not with you. I'm okay."

he moves to open the door and grab the rest of your things. "well then, let's not keep them waiting!"

—

edited 27 April 2021

[thunder-at-dawn]

June 4th

finally finished this!! the character for the day was Foolish so of course I’m making this eternal duo. bold of you to assume that I wouldn’t

word count: 1,554

prompt: hiding spots

character: foolish gamers

warning: this is a sfw tickle fic! don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable :]

Well. This sucked.

Maybe going adventuring without armor wasn’t a good idea.

Ever since the red banquet, Foolish would do anything to avoid even thinking about it. He would build. He would talk. He would dance. He would eat. He would build some more. He would do anything he could go get it off of his head.

One day, he had gone exploring, to a further point beyond where he was familiar with. The totem god found himself in a place full of mountains, and he had started to climb. To distract himself from any negative thoughts. Foolish climbed as high as he could, smiling happily as he was able to get a good view over the land. However, at one point, he lost his footing and fell.

He didn’t fall super far, but it was enough to temporarily wound him. Foolish fell on his side, landing at an awkward angle. He groaned as he sat up, rubbing his head before continuing to go on his adventure.

Fast forward, about a day later. Foolish sighed in disappointment when he lifted up the fabrics of his clothes to notice a bruise on his side from the fall. He knew it would be gone quickly, but it was still annoying to deal with. He pressed down on it lightly, flinching at his own touch. It didn’t exactly hurt like he thought it would, but it was still a little fragile, apparently.

He decided that today was probably a good day to rest. He was always building and doing things all the time, it would be nice to take a break. Digging through his chests, Foolish grabbed a bag of cold ice, a shiver going down his spine as he grabbed it and placed it where the bruise was.

“That should hopefully help a bit...” He mumbled to himself. It was a nice, warm day in the desert. Foolish headed to the open floor in the middle of his summer home, lying down on the ground, the bag of ice resting on his side. He watched as the clouds in the sky passed through the desert, and felt the warm sun on his face.

This was quite relaxing, Foolish thought to himself. If he didn’t have a freezing cold ice pack on his side, he could probably fall asleep right now, honestly. He gently closed his eyes, resting peacefully, feeling the sun beating down and giving him warmth. When Foolish opened his eyes, he was met with someone’s head watching over him, upside down. Startled, he let out a yell and attempted to sit up, accidentally clashing heads with the newcomer.

“AH- shit!” She hissed, rubbing her head. Foolish sat up fully, and was now able to recognize who it was.

“Eret! I’m so sorry, are you okay?!” Foolish asked, sitting up completely now.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine.” She winced, rubbing at her head more.

Foolish was...a bit conflicted right now. As much as he enjoyed Eret, there was a small problem.

Ever since the Red Banquet, he had noticed that Eret seemed to get a bit more...protective. Caring. Motherly. Touchy. Which wasn’t bad, of course. It was a completely reasonable reaction after all that had happened. However, because of this, she was bound to question the ice pack on his side, and Foolish was well aware of how...sensitive that spot could be when touched. He knew Eret would want to investigate if she noticed it.

“What’s with the bag of ice?”

Ah, shit.

“Oh, uh-“ Foolish looked towards the ice bag that was now on the ground, slipping off of him from when he had sat up. “I was just- it’s really hot today, y’know? So I was just...putting this on me. To help cool down.”

“On...on your side?” Eret raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t your forehead be better?”

“Um...maybe. But, uh...preferences. Y’know?” He said, trying to hopefully get the other to drop it.

“...No, Foolish. I don’t know.” She chuckled awkwardly. “Here, lay down.” Foolish obeyed, lying back down on the ground of his temple. Eret grabbed the ice pack and placed it on top of Foolish’s forehead, a soft, quiet laugh accompanying her as he shivered at the touch. Eret mumbled out something about the weather before taking off her coat, placing it beneath Foolish’s head so he didn’t have to rest his head on the hard floor.

“Man, this thing is cold.” Foolish muttered, a shiver going down his spine.

“Well, duh. It’s an ice pack. You should know that it’s cold from having it on your side of all places.” Eret grinned at Foolish’s...well, foolishness. “Say, did you go exploring the other day, by any chance?”

Foolish sat up in surprise, holding the ice pack to his head. “What? Yeah! How did you know?!” He asked.

“Ponk told me that he saw you heading north the other day, but didn’t know where you were going. I just made a guess.” The queen shrugged, laughing softly. “Did you find anything interesting?”

“Other than some cool views, not really.” The totem sighed. “I had to climb a little bit to see them, though. I wasn’t really looking for anything in particular, I just wanted to see if there was more out there.”

When her old friend mentioned climbing, the wheels started to turn in Eret’s head, and she started to think of an idea. “Climbing, you say?” She asked slyly. “Is there any chance you may have...hurt yourself, while doing so?”

“Nope!” Foolish was quick to answer, concealing the truth. “...I am a very skilled climber who definitely did not hurt himself. Why do you want to know?”

“Hmm...” She investigated Foolish up and down, taking note of his facial expression and body language. “Are you sure? Because I’m not sure if that’s the case.”

“W-What? No. Eret, what reason would I have to liHIHIE-“ Foolish was cut off by a sudden squeak of surprise coming out of his mouth when he felt a squeeze at his knee. “EHERET! Whahat ahahare yohohou doHOhoing?!”

“Just giving you a checkup! I want to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself at all while climbing.” Eret smirked, clinging onto Foolish’s knee and continuing to squeeze. She repeated the process with his other knee, watching as the other started to dissolve into a giggly mess.

“Eheherehehet! I prohohomihise, thihis ihisn’t nehecehesSAHARY!” Foolish retreated back to the ground on instinct, laying down and squirming around as Eret dug in between his ribs. He dropped the ice pack, and it fell to the ground as he laughed.

“Foolish, I’m just trying to help! You could’ve broken a bone while climbing, and I’m making sure that nothing is broken!” A playful smile graced Eret’s face as she poked and prodded, vibrating her fingers in between each and every rib.

“Ihi’m fihihine, Eheherehet!” He giggled, lightly batting at the other’s hands.

“You don’t know that!” She said, continuing her playful attack. When she moved her hands down towards Foolish’s torso, he took notice, and quickly put both hands over his side to protect the bruised spot.

Eret blinked in surprise, pausing the movements of her hands. “...Foolish.”

“Eret.” He mimicked the other.

“Foolish...is this is bad spot?” She smirked, hovering her hands over where Foolish held his.

“Nohoho...” Foolish lied, giggling in anticipation.

“You sure?” Eret raised an eyebrow. Before Foolish could answer, she dug a hand into his other, unprotected side. He let out a shriek in response, drawing his hands away to continue to bat at Eret’s. She only used this as an opportunity to squeeze at Foolish’s other side.

“WAHAHAHAIHIHIT- EHEHEHEREHEHET!” The totem cackled, throwing his head back and squirming around in an attempt to escape the touches.

“I’m just trying to help out! Stop rejecting my help, dude! That’s such a rude thing to do, I’m just trying to be a good friend!” Eret giggled herself upon seeing Foolish’s reaction.

“IHI’M NOHOT HUHURT, IHI’M FIHIHIHINE!!” Foolish yelled out, his laughter starting to turn high-pitched and squeaky. Eret continued for a little longer before drawing her hands away, leaving her friend to curl in on himself and giggle. The fabric of his clothing had ridden up in the struggle, and Eret was quick to notice what Foolish was so desperate to hide.

“...So, you did hurt yourself.” She said out loud.

“...Yeheah, I dihid.” Foolish finally admitted through his giggles. “Ihit doehesn’t huhurt thohough, I feel just fiHIHINE!” He squeaked when Eret started to trace a finger on his bare skin.

“It doesn’t look that bad, it should probably heal in a day or two.” She acknowledged, laughing a bit to herself at Foolish’s giggling before a lightbulb went off in her head. “Oh my goodness, wait. Did you not tell me you bruised yourself because you were worried that someone would touch it?”

A small light pink hue appeared on Foolish face as he realized that his friend’s guess was spot on. “...Mayhaybe.”

“Oh my god.” Eret laughed, continuing the tracing over his bruise. “This doesn’t hurt at all, right?” She asked, smiling when Foolish shook his head. “Alright, good. Because I don’t appreciate when I’m lied to, Foolish. And apparently, I need to get that point across.”

Foolish looked up at his friend, confused. However, all suddenly came crystal clear, and his high-pitched, squeaky laughter rang throughout the desert.

[aeonghaseyo]

Your Trace, My Treasure

Summary: Marc and Nathaniel write and draw, respectively, on each others' notebooks because it's DEFINITELY a couple thing to do.

Word Count: 2105 AO3 link

Relationship/s: Nathaniel Kurtzberg/Marc Anciel Category: M/M Characters: Nathaniel Kurtzberg, Marc Anciel, Alix Kubdel (mentioned), Marinette Dupain-Cheng (mentioned), Juleka Couffaine (mentioned), Rose Lavillant (mentioned), Alya Cesaire (mentioned) Language used: English Author's Note: The creators of MLB really need to give the side characters screen time. The love square isn't the only romantic set of ships in the show and there are much more cute ships to write about. And so in my first time of writing a Miraculous Ladybug fanfic, it's about a ship that's entirely not part of the love square. This is my final workshop output from a creative writing class I enrolled in during the summer to get units in advance. Special thanks to my professor and two of my classmates for their feedback; I couldn't have made this work even more wonderful without their help. For the non-love-square ship and this being a successful workshop output thus far, I think I'm gonna give myself a pat on the back and more fanfic ideas to write. :)

Compared to the courtyard at Françoise Dupont High School where the lively chattering of students can be heard and the scrambling of footsteps were a staple, the art room was its own entire world of silence.

It was supposed to be a calming silence in that same art room where Marc and Nathaniel were to work on art-related endeavors of their own, but the former found this unwelcoming and rather deafening. It weighed down on his being that the atmosphere was unbearably awkward, much like he was most of the time even before he met Nathaniel and became his partner in creating comic books about Ladybug, Chat Noir, and their akumatized alter-egos who turned good and served as part of the superhero duo’s akuma-fighting team. Despite a remarkable development from being acquaintances, to newfound partners, and now to a bloomed romantic couple, Marc Anciel, as awkward as ever and still testing the waters on this newfound relationship, couldn’t shake this nagging feeling of inadequacy as someone’s significant other.

It just goes to show him that even though his romantic feelings for Nathaniel had been reciprocated at Day 0, it does not remove the remaining unease that Marc currently feels at Day 1. It was his first time in a relationship, and it was with the boy whose drawings he admired so much from the school paper. Simply put, it was too good to be true.

Unfortunately, the awkwardness Marc felt wasn’t masked enough, and Nathaniel immediately noticed from his place by the table beside his raven-haired beau. How could he not? It was very obvious, from the way Marc’s hand shakily distorted his usually refined, elegant script while writing the next chapter of their comic to the way his expression was contorted as if he was constipated. Nathaniel thought to himself that it was still an adorable sight, but clearly, something was up, and it wouldn’t do well to just ignore whatever troubled his beloved partner. Attempting to break the ice, the redhead cleared his throat, then spoke to call Marc’s attention.

“Marc.”

The novelist jolted in surprise at the utterance of his name. “Y-yes, Nathaniel?”

Leaning in for a better view of the page Marc was writing on, Nathaniel replied, “Your handwriting’s different.”

“W-wait, really?” blurted out Marc, quickly covering the page with his gloved hand. “I d-didn’t know you were p-particular with handwriting.”

Nathaniel placed a gentle, caring hand on his boyfriend’s with a smile aimed directly at him as he clarified himself, “It’s not that, Marc. I’ve seen it and it’s great. Right now, it just looks… wobbly. You’re nervous, aren’t you?”

Even if Nathaniel was a recluse in his own class, he could very well read into the emotions of people, but he doesn’t show it that often. As endearing as it was as a show of concern towards shy Marc, it was also overwhelming for the raven-haired novelist to have been the subject of such deep perception, even from the boy his heart palpitates for.

It was then that Marc’s fight or flight response reminded him in a split-second that he needed some sort of diversion for Nathaniel not to remind him of his own awkwardness.

“Isn’t it weird that our art teacher didn’t come here?” Marc rapidly questioned as he struggled not to look at the red-haired boy beside him. Despite this attempt to keep Nathaniel’s focus off of his disposition, glancing towards the door and not at Nathaniel did not help stop the blood from rushing to the novelist’s fair cheeks. His partner might be tired of this, of him, already, but that light chuckle of pure amusement coming from Nathaniel disproved that thought.

“Hey, hey, settle down Marc,” chided Nathaniel, “he might be running late. It’s okay for us to use the art room so long as it’s reserved around this time. Good thing that he reserved it at an earlier time than usual.”

With innocent green eyes, the raven-haired boy looked his boyfriend in the eye and asked, “H-he can do that?”

“Of course, he can. Let’s just wait for him, okay?” reassured Nathaniel, his left hand making its way on Marc’s right shoulder discreetly. “I’m sure my other classmates will arrive here shortly too.”

A shy smile emerged from Marc’s face as he replied, “Okay, Nath.”

Suddenly, a ringtone from the phone which was in Nathaniel’s pocket sounded audibly enough to catch both the boys’ attention. The redhead immediately fished out the device from his pocket and unlocked it, revealing three unread text messages from his close friend Alix.

Hey Nath! Something came up and I couldn’t swing by the art room. Love troubles again with Marinette. Juleka and Rose are also helping out with me so they can’t come.

I can’t believe that Marinette got invited personally by Adrien to his photoshoot but she can’t even give him her handmade gift or ask him out. Because she’s such a wuss, I got dragged here in the park by Rose because Mari needs all of her girl friends to push her towards Golden Boy Agreste YET AGAIN.

And apparently Alya alone couldn’t do it. Sorry! You’ll have Marc to keep you company anyway. Have fun! ;)

So much for those girls coming over to the art room. Nathaniel let out a sigh as he muttered, just enough for Marc to hear, “I stand corrected. The others aren’t coming.”

Catching on his partner’s crest-fallen demeanor and gazing at his face with sympathetic green orbs, Marc replied, “Guess it’s just the two of us for now.”

The next minutes were spent in silence again, with Marc continuing to finish a paragraph while Nathaniel sketched a bird’s eye view of the Eiffel tower as the background in one panel of the comic storyboard in his notebook. After several minutes elapsed, however, curiosity got the best of Marc, and so, with the tip of his pen lingering on the period of his last sentence, he kept on glancing at Nathaniel and the storyboarding he was working on. Besides the sheer focus that was evident in Nathaniel’s turquoise orbs, the shy novelist couldn’t help but notice the fine, steady strokes his beau’s hand were making with his fine-pointed mechanical pencil. So neat, so pristine. It’s amazing how he didn’t need an eraser to erase certain portions of his drawings over and over.

Marc had seen artist sketches himself of both people and objects, mostly done by his friend Marinette. As someone aspiring to become a fashion designer, she would be engrossed in sketching designs day by day, passion ignited by the sparks of inspiration she draws from around her. However, since Marinette’s sketches had obvious hints of disorder, as it normally is with crude artist sketches, it clearly contrasted with the otherwise structured sketches Nathaniel makes for his comic books. Marc, fully in awe, couldn’t help but take a break from his writing and stare at the red-haired illustrator’s creative process right next to him.

Meanwhile, Nathaniel, thanks to the strong, overbearing feeling of being watched, was getting overly conscious of his work. Keeping his composure to the best of his ability, he quickly turned to Marc and asked, “Do you need something Marc?”

Snapped out of his trance wide-eyed, Marc inwardly panicked. ‘Oh no, I must be staring at him too long! I hope I didn’t spook him too much.’

Scrambling for a sensible response, the novelist stuttered out, “I-i want to write something in your notebook.”

Setting down his pencil while his turquoise eyes were still on Marc, Nathaniel blinked inquisitively. “Oh, why would you want to do that?”

“B-because,” the shy writer reasoned, “I want to write something to remind you of me. T-that is, if y-you don’t mind.”

The red-haired teen averted his gaze from his partner as he remarked, “You know I don’t let anyone write on my notebook, Marc.”

This response triggered the disappointment that Marc had anticipated from the moment that they started continuing to develop the rest of the comic book they were working on together. It was even more daunting for the timid writer that their art teacher and the rest of Nathaniel’s classmates who were usually in the art room with them did not show up at that moment, or even at all. Marinette would tell Nathaniel that it’s a great idea for his newfound love to leave special traces on his personal notebook while Rose, somehow finding this romantic, would gush at this gesture with Juleka mumbling to herself in response. But what would have been the cherry on top for Marc at the moment is that if Alix was there to egg on Nathaniel, pressuring him to give in and let his boyfriend write something in his notebook. At least the comic relief from Alix’s teasing would help alleviate the collective awkwardness the couple felt at that moment. God, if only it wasn’t just the two of them in the art room at that moment.

But alas, he was alone, helpless and daunted, and he was facing the dragon which was Nathaniel, or whatever Nathaniel thought of him at that moment.

However, all of the fears and doubts that plagued Marc left him when Nathaniel continued with a small, endearing smile on his face, “But for you, I’ll make an exception.”

The novelist beamed at his boyfriend, green eyes sparkling with delight. “R-really?”

“In one condition.”

Marc took and held in a quick breath. “Anything, Nath.”

The illustrator picked up his pencil once again and uttered, with an outstretched hand right by Marc’s notebook, “Let me draw in your notebook.”

It was at that moment when Marc could feel his heart flutter, accompanied by the butterflies in his stomach as he opened his own notebook to the very last page and laid it out right by his beau’s workspace.

“It would be my pleasure.”

In a span of 2 minutes while Nathaniel was drawing on the last page of his boyfriend’s notebook, Marc, fidgeting and tapping his pen softly on his chin, racked his brain for a simple yet memorable piece to write on the first page of the illustrator’s notebook, which was left empty out of personal preference by its owner. Hoping to obtain bit by bit of inspiration, he glanced at Nathaniel, then at the empty page, then at Nathaniel, and so on and so forth. This went on, albeit unnoticed by the redhead, until mere seconds after, he scribbled away on the page once he had gotten attuned with his creative writing flow.

After both of them finished leaving their traces on each other’s notebook pages, Nathaniel and Marc gave each other back their notebooks and instantly opened them to where they each left their special mark. Struck with awe, the novelist softly traced the outline of the drawing and his emerald eyes were drawn to Nathaniel’s signature which he left underneath the recently drawn portrait. A tinge of pink formed on Marc’s cheeks as he admired every stroke that constituted this drawing of him done by none other than the boy he once looked up to, now loved, and who loved him back.

“No one’s written me a poem before,” Nathaniel uttered as he perused every line written by Marc on that now extra special page in his notebook, eyes taking in every word written in that distinct elegant script that served as an epitome of beauty that the redhead beheld. One particular line at the end of the writing, however, caught him by surprise: the words ‘Je t’aime’ accompanied by Marc’s signature in that same fancy handwriting the illustrator adored dearly.

Having regained his composure, Marc turned to Nathaniel and asked, “Do you like the poem? I-i thought of it on the spot so it might not exactly be to your liking, but-”

“I love it,” interrupted the red-haired teen breathlessly, wrapping an arm around his significant other and squeezing his shoulder. “Really Marc, you make the most wonderful written pieces.”

An expression as bright as day graced Marc’s features as he replied, albeit with a bit of shyness in his voice, “Y-you really think so?”

Nathaniel threw any single hint of hesitation in his being out the window as he placed a tender, loving kiss on Marc’s forehead. “I do. We’re meant to be partnered together, after all.”

And just like that, the uncomfortable awkwardness that haunted Marc was instantly warded off, and in a flash, he enveloped Nathaniel in a tight, warm, loving embrace and leaned into him in newfound solace. The silence in the art room has never been this comforting as the couple relished in this seemingly endless embrace together.

[thesweetestkimberry]

Beach Day

Pairings: Hanta Sero x Reader

Summary: 1-A goes to the beach, a day that began with insecurities and mishaps turned into a night of new love and acceptance.

Warnings: OOC characters, Mineta being a perv, might be some curses?, mentions of stretch marks and insecurities of the body

Notes: SO this was kinda written with a fuller body in mind because I have one, and a lot of the time I struggle with accepting my body. It’s not a huge factor in the story but it is there. I hope this story kind of helps you forget those insecurities for a bit.

『° 。✰˚⋆☾⋆。✰°』

“How come you’re still wearing your clothes (y/n)?” Uraraka asked sincerely as you tensed, shooting her a nervous smile, “I’ll take it off in a bit! I just wanna get situated.” You said taking a sip of your drink from your spot on the sand. You and Mina had set up underneath a large umbrella, putting your towels side by side and arranging your belongings.

“She’s just insecure.” Mina said, making you flick sand at her while she laughed, “Whaaat!?” The girls shouted, “You have nothing to be insecure about!” Momo tried, making your mind race,

“That’s what I keep telling her!” Mina once again interjected. It took all your will to not find a way to zip his trap with your quirk. “American and Japanese ideas on the body may be different, but that doesn’t mean yours is bad.” Tsuyu said in her usual blunt manner making you sulk,

“And with that new bathing suit Toru and Mina picked out, I’m sure you’ll look great!” Jiro said shooting you a thumbs up as her earphones waved. Knowing you weren’t gonna win this, you sighed, “Okay, but only for a bit.” You said as you began to remove your shirt and shorts.

The girls twittered amongst each other about how you looked, which made you insecure about your body. Your fingers subconsciously raced over the stretch marks on your stomach, breasts, and thighs, your mind shooting to what the ones on the back of your arms and thighs looked like. 

 Finally stepping out from under the umbrella, you tried to cross your arms over your stomach, which was softer than the skinny toned girls in your class. The pink girl huffed and tried tickling you to get you to ease up, tickling you to do so and as a result of your laughter, heads began to turn, and some stared a lot longer than you would’ve liked.

Suddenly you heard a loud SMACK, the boys who were playing volleyball winced and groaned. Turning your attention towards them, you saw Sero with a quickly reddening imprint of the volleyball on his face, making you cringe.

Kaminari patted Sero on the back and laughed, “That’s what you get for staring.” He joked, making the boy flush. “Don’t act like you guys didn’t look!” He yelled loudly making them all tense as you looked over. They all threw their quirks at him, either shocking, singeing, or freezing him.

You quickly turned away when the girls called you over again to join them in the water, which you had agreed too, since you usually swim far enough for the water to reach up to your chest. You and Tsuyu swam for a while, the other girls played with a beach ball on the other hand, laughing and splashing water at each other.

Suddenly, you froze and shrieked.

“Something touched me!” You yelled as you frantically looked around, Asui tilting her head curiously. “Was it some seaweed?” She asked you as you wiped the water off of your face,

“No no, like, something touched my ass!” You said as she disappeared into the water, probably to look around.

After about a minute, you heard splashing and yelling. Looking over in that direction, you saw Asui break the surface and come out holding Mineta with her tongue. Swimming over to the shore and shaking him

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You said exasperated as he trashed in her hold, swimming back to shore to meet her. “I think this is the piece of trash that touched you.” She muttered as best as she could with her tongue sticking out.

“Hey let me go! I’m thorry it was just out there! You know you thouldn't be wearing thomething like that if you didn’t want anyone to touch you!” Mineta said aloud making you cover yourself as best as you could with your hands, even pulling down the bottoms to cover your ass that was barely poking out.

“The hell you say scumbag?” You heard an aggressive voice say, making you flinch. “He touched (y/n)!” Mina shouted as she came to console you, seeing how you had gotten.

“Give me the scumbag, Frog.” Bakugou said with a chilling smirk making your skin crawl. Asui did as he asked and tossed the kid at him, Bakugou caught him by the head effortlessly, careful to avoid actually grabbing his quirk. Mineta thrashed and cried out, pleading for help while everyone turned a blind eye.

“I'm about to win this game you damn extras.” Bakugou said as he ran back to the court, everyone following. 

Getting into position to serve, he threw Mineta up into the air as he screamed. The blonde ran up and jumped into the air, and spiked the screaming student using his quirk, sending Mineta over the net and creating a mini crater in the sand.

The other girls cheered while you winced, still covering your body. “Hey, you okay?” A voice behind you spoke. You turned around to see Sero, still adorning the bright red mark on his face, 

“Yeah.” You said with a small chuckle, reaching out to hold his face. He blushed as you examined the injury, noticing that you were very close to his face. “Check out this new spell that I found.” You said as you closed your eyes and focused on him, chanting some spell quietly, you then looked back up at him and smiled.

You gently bounced in your spot, making Sero notice how the air dried your hair, adding beach waves to your hair. “What’d that do?” He asked rubbing the back of his head, You pulled a small compact mirror from your bag nearby and showed him his reflection,

“Oh shit! You healed it?” He asked as he poked at his face, only making him flinch and gasp in response. “I only made the visual injury disappear, the pain is still here.” You said as he gently poked his face still. 

“It’s kinda useless, I know.” You said looking down dejectedly, but Sero quickly and gently grabbed your chin and tilted it up to look at you. “Nonono, it’s great! It’s pretty cool actually.” He said with his contagious smile. Realizing what he did, the two of you blushed, but before you could say something Kaminari cut between you two, 

“Leave room for the holy spirit.” He said leaving you two at about 3 feet apart, both laughing.

When the day began to darken and the air turned chilly, you all bundled up and started a bonfire with the help of Todoroki’s quirk. S’mores were made and stories were told and laughter was flowing. Everyone was having a great time, and you and Sero couldn't help the glances you two would share.

You later found yourself separating from the group and walking along the shore, feeling how your feet left imprints in the sand. 

“Mind if I join you?” A voice came from behind you, the wet sand concealing his nervous approach. You turned with a smile at the newcomer, nodding as you turned back around, “Of course. What draws you over here Sero?” You ask once he takes his place next to you, the boy in question shyly rubbed the back of his neck, 

“Well, you.” He mumbled, head turned away from you, obscuring his answer. You turned to him and asked him to repeat what he said, making him fluster, “W-Whales, you know?”

You chucked at how quickly he answered, turning back around and craning your neck up to the sky, “I don't think we’ll see any whales, but we can see the stars.” You say as the boy turned to look at you, seeing as though you had stopped walking. “They’re beautiful.” You whisper.

Sero looks at your hand that rested at your side, empty and waiting, practically begging for him to take it into his own. 

And that's exactly what he did. 

At the feeling of his hand in your own, you turned your attention to the blushing boy, your face turning into the same shade. “Sero?...” He swallows the nervousness he had gotten stuck in his throat, preventing him from speaking properly. “(y/n), we’ve been friends for a while, but I found myself wanting to be more than that.” Realizing where this was going, you stepped closer and squeezed his hand.

“You're beautiful, and I don't just mean physically. Your everything is beautiful! Your eyes, your smile, your personality. Not to mention you're so strong in so many ways! Your quirk, your reason to become a hero, the way you just exist is an amazing thing alone,” he rambled, words nearly blending together, your brain nearly frying to keep up with what he was trying to say.

“But why me?” You whisper more to yourself, only for him to hear you, “what do you mean?” He asks lifting your chin so his eyes could meet your glossy ones, “I don’t look like Momo, or-or Mina,” you begin, not looking directly at him in shame, “I’m not pretty like the other girls in our class im-” Sero cut you off with a hug, “Stop that, I don’t want Momo or Mina, I want you. It’s you who distracted me earlier from the volleyball, it’s you who I imagine holding close, your body is beautiful and you know why?” He asks holding you at an arms length to get a good look at you, as you shook your head, “It’s beautiful because it’s yours.”

You stare at Sero with wide eyes, admiring how cute a blush looked on his face, “Look what i'm trying to say is-” grabbing his cheeks and planting your lips on his, his eyes widened for a second, hands flying up in surprise, only for his eyes to begin fluttering closed as you deepened the kiss, his hands finding their place on your waist and pulling you in. With chests against each other, you both could practically feel how hard your hearts were beating, almost threatening to burst out of your chests.

He groaned against your lips when he felt you begin to pull away, making you giggle at his reaction, “can I finish my sentence next time?” He joked, eyes still shut in bliss, “maybe you just talk too much,” you quip back, now meeting his eyes, “I mean if that's your way of getting me to shut up then I'll just never stop talking.” 

The ocean stretched to where the two of you were, the surprisingly warm water sending a shiver through both of your bodies. “So, would you want to maybe go out? Maybe be my girlfriend?” He asks lightly squeezing your sides, making you sigh contently. “Not maybe,” you begin, pulling him down to another kiss, however you stop just as you feel his breath fan over you, “definitely.”

“Thank you Hanta.”

『° 。✰˚⋆☾⋆。✰°』

[helenazbmrskai]

Not Alone

Title Not Alone

Pairing Yoongi x OC

Summary University is kicking your ass so you always make sure to dedicate a day for yourself and take time to pamper your body and soul. However, you’re cautious around Yoongi your roommate and double-check the d-day to prevent accidents. You're not a fan of revealing any skin because of your insecurities but it’s just happening to be the day when you are - not so alone.

Genre university au, roommate au, romance and fluff, smut

Warning(s) smut (body worshipping, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, messy sex, first time, virgin reader, dirty talk, vanilla sex, yoongi has a virgin kink but not explicitly mentioned) implication of insecure reader, shy and curvy reader

Word count: 9k

Masterlist

This universe is related to my other fic I wrote recently ’one time boy space friend’ you can read that one here.

Washing the excess shaving cream off of my hand I grab my phone I previously placed on the toilet’s folded lid lightly humming the outline of the song currently playing. The new playlist Yoongi recommended is full of bangers as always I have no doubt his fate was eventually to end up as a music major. I take a glance at my reflection when I was able to secure the new position for my phone on the laundry basket with the top slightly open reminding me that I need to do laundry if I want to have clothes to wear.

I take a glance at my reflection removing the fog that made the lines of my face blurry with a towel hanging next to the sink on a hook realising later that I used Yoongi’s looking back at the sheepish smile that greets me in the mirror I placed the fabric back hoping that Yoongi won’t mind.

An unknown rap song’s first beats suddenly interrupted by an incoming call that the familiar piano version of my favourite song signalled. I smile seeing the callers ID, placing the toner back to its dust-filled spot next to Yoongi’s shaving cream I make sure to use the right towel this time to dry my hands with before swiping right on the call.

”Hey, What’s the matter?” I answer it with a huge grin plastered on my face making my cheeks ride up into a chipmunk-like smile.

Our class was cancelled at the last minute so I wasn’t expecting a call from her she told me while we were waiting for the instructor to arrive that she has plans with his boyfriend Jimin. Only having calculus that day after an exchanged heated curses for our lazy professor for not e-mailing about the reschedule I happily took a sweet nap and made an easy breakfast I normally don’t have time to consume or even make in the morning I was able to get my relaxing time to start earlier so it meant more time for me since Yoongi supposedly took the afternoon shift.

This piece of information I remembered while chewing on my sandwich as I thanked the gods that I overheard his conversation about the shift change last night when I went to get my late-night snack but seeing the date expired on the comfort food I had to engage in a yoghurt instead.

”Y/N. Are you home?” She asked matching my good mood in the background I heard clinking noises of a pan she must be cooking. I insert my head through the large black t-shirt’s hole as I started to freeze standing here only in my undergarments the effect of the hot shower faded leaving me in the significantly colder bathroom.

”Of course. I started my pamper routine. I cannot tell you how good it feels to be hairless. If only my hair would grow this fast.” She chuckles hearing my banter the faint sounds of crepitation usually the hot oil makes overpowering her giggle for a few seconds. I remember the sandwich I ate this morning around ten-ish that did not prove to be enough. I get sidetracked with what should I make for lunch.

”Oh, so Yoongi is working?” Knowing about my only one rule regarding this d-day I like to call it is that no man should be around when I’m wearing this revealing clothing. He only saw me wearing jeans and yoga pants before these jelly-like legs cannot make a debut in front of eyes outside of mine.

”Yep.” I confirm. I take a look at the time I still have lots of time to relax before I should start that assignment I postponed.

I have everything planned out since Yoongi usually comes home from work in a grumpy state he likes to shower first and then he retreats into his room to do his assignments and sometimes he writes a song or the song even could be the assignment itself I honestly don’t know how’s everyday life as a music major. Yoongi is not exactly the talkative type.

My silent activity is helping his concentration and the best thing is that I have the apartment by myself to do what I please and leave the comfort of my room wearing what I please without worrying.

The best would be if I could rent out my own apartment but I know I wouldn’t be able to pay it by myself and the fact that Yoongi and I share the expenses of the bill makes things so much more easier.

”Why did you call though? I’m sure it’s not because you already miss me.” Tired of holding the phone up I place it back where it was before leaving the call on speakers so I can rub the cocoa scented lotion into the skin on my legs.

”Right. I almost forgot. Jin taught you that Mexican dish that I don’t know how to pronounce its name, right?” Her voice fades a little mid-sentence probably changed ears hearing the cooking noises seeping through the background she seemed very busy.

”What about it?” I question closing the lid of the lotion after I rub the remaining cream on my hand onto my neck so nothing goes to waste.

”I need the recipe.” She demands. I laugh how desperate she sounds through the phone. I make my way out of the bathroom I need my notebook since I didn’t memorise the dish I only made it once and as it was previously stated with the help of Jin.

”Hold on I don’t remember where I left the notes.” I arrive at the kitchen area placing the phone on the counter I begin rummaging through the drawers bending down to peek at the content of each. Spoons and forks. The second one where Yoongi placed the aprons and towels my notebook must be in the last one. ”So, what are the plans for today?” I ask while still searching for the black shiny cover of my notebook.

”Well, I wanted to cook something Italian since Jimin told me once he wanted to try it out but a crucial ingredient is missing so I thought about making that one you told me about a few weeks ago at Jin’s birthday party. After I’m finally done with this shit I’m going to sneak into his room to give him the blowjob of his life while he’s playing some shit games boys do and tell him lunch is ready.” The huge breath she took before starting the word vomiting makes me praise her lung capacity.

Finally. The book was under the aprons what a hassle. I straighten up turning the pages when I hear the front door opening and shut soon after. I turn to see the face of the intruder as I’m still standing in the middle of the kitchen with my hair evidently wet from the shower I took earlier only in my panties and a huge ass shirt to cover myself with.

Yoongi drops his coffee-stained shirt by the foot of the couch the angle is letting me see the living room area without a problem but he can’t clearly see the kitchen from there but my relief is not long-lasting as my friend decides to choose that moment to speak drawing Yoongi’s attention to where I’m standing.

”Y/N are you still there? Shit. I burnt my finger.” Grabbing the phone off the counter I switch off the speaker option and push the device against my ear.

”Yeah, um, I’ll send you the recipe via message. Good luck. Bye.” I aggressively push the red phone button at the bottom left side of the screen until the call ends. Hearing my voice Yoongi walks through the door separating the living room and the kitchen to halt his steps when he takes the image in.

It’s not one of those best times to ponder over how good looking he’s after finishing work and how he always smells like freshly brewed coffee which is not a surprise knowing the fact that he works at a coffee shop near our rented place.

He doesn’t wear the shirt uniform it must be the one he got rid of because of the stains today he wears a simple white t-shirt with washed-out blue jeans. Focusing on his face again I see that his eyes no longer studying my face instead his gaze dipped lower and I swear he's not so subtle about ogling at my exposed legs. My legs!

”You’re … early.” I talk first considering my options. A, I can still make a run for it but the damage is already done. He saw me. Or B, I can try to make small talk pretending that nothing is embarrassing at all just to later enter my room and dig a hole with all of my self-pity and scream into my pillow.

”Um, there was a shift change but I finished 2 hours early in return.” He explains this time his gaze was on my face the entire time no more strayed glimpses. Fuck. I should have paid attention to the whole conversation. ”Don’t you .. have class normally this time around?” He trails off a faint trace of blush appears on his porcelain skin. I use the notebook to hide my panty line that peeks out of the shirt.

”Class cancelled.” I’m horrified how my voice sounds so high pitched the embarrassment paints my cheeks bright red. ”Um, I have something to do in my room so I’ll be there.” I use the lame excuse to escape from Yoongi when I close the door behind me I close my eyes as well because of the extreme humiliation I had to go through.

My phone buzzes in hand I suddenly remember the recipe I promised. I write a quick message to her attaching the picture of the ingredients and notes to help her with the preparations. Now since I’m done with the responsibilities I can swim in my tears for the time being.

I can’t believe after months of caution fate decided to take away from me the deserved me time days. Yoongi is probably weirded out by me too I don’t know how to look him in the eye from now on and it’s a serious problem. For lords heaven, we live together! There’s no way I can avoid him without being obvious about it.

I mean maybe I’m just overreacting. It’s Yoongi we are talking about. He most of the time doesn’t give a flying fuck about anything he certainly won’t mention it and for obvious reasons I won’t either so I can just leave things like that. Just acting as usual like he didn’t saw my legs and my black underwear not to mention he is the very first one to see it I mean outside of my family of course. He’s a boy. No. A man. And he saw me underdressed like that.

It’s okay Y/N, let’s see the bright side at least he saw me when I was shaved. Well, that doesn’t help. Not at all.

”Shit. I’m hungry.”

I waited an hour and forty minutes to be exact despite the rumble of my stomach I sat down to start the book one of my friends lent me to read and I’m over a quarter of the pages when I decided enough is enough.

I waited long enough so he must be cooped up in his room slash studio for the rest of the day. But to be extra cautious I peeked out before fully leaving the safety of my room. I stop once I step into the corridor listening for any noises that might indicate Yoongi has indeed occupied his nest the soft sounds of the synthesizer helps me to relax I leisurely make my way then in the direction of the kitchen.

As I flip the switch the room is enveloped in light. My favourite mug is sitting on top of the counter even though I don’t remember leaving it there. I walk to take a closer look the mug is filled with coffee it’s in a light brown colour so it must a latte. It smells like latte indeed.

My favourite drink. There’s a note glued to the bottom of the mug it’s a messy handwriting and I don’t have to guess to know to whom this belongs to. How did he know my favourite coffee order?

”Sorry for startling you earlier. - myg”

The simple worded note even had his initials at the end. Realising that I never tried out his coffee made me curious about the taste. He works as a barista so It cannot be bad. I’m always late for class so I never had the chance before going into the shop when he’s on duty and order a drink from him.

Most of the time I’m saving on it and just use the shared coffee machine. Don’t blame me I’m just a broke university student.

But if I drink this I won’t be able to sleep it’s pretty late. Fuck it. I’m going to drink it. Not that the unholy time for coffee consumption deterred me before and picked up on some of Yoongi’s personal characteristics I think I can confidently say he doesn’t care either.

I bite into my lip while carefully straightening the lines out on the sticky note. After I was convinced the note won’t come off of his door I leave to go to bed.

”Thanks for the coffee. I liked it. – Y/N.”

***

”Can you guys stop shovelling food into your mouths for a millisecond. I’m serious!” Hitting the table for further emphasis.

Rori and F/N digging through a pile of food before our morning class is something I got used to first as I befriended them and it doesn’t bother me any other time but I wanted some serious advice for once and they don’t even stop digging to say well that’s was awkward. Or shit that sucks.

Not that I don’t know that without them telling me. I appreciated the note and the subtle apology he didn’t phrase it like hey dummy I’m sorry for seeing your sausage legs my bad. Also, it would be unlikely, too wordy for him he’s tight-lipped even in messages. I don’t remember he ever told me like a two full sentence in one go.

”Serious for what Y/N? He saw your underwear and legs. Tell us if you display your boobs or something. Now, I would be interested.” Rolling my eyes at the sarcastic remark I steal one of her favourite apple pie sticks for good measures.

”Hey! I was going to eat that.” She pouts but I take another big bite out of it. It’s too sweet for my liking but everything for the even sweeter revenge. If there’s one thing I learned about these two throughout the years of knowing them is that they take their food very seriously. ”Look. We love you, that’s why I’m going to tell you this. It’s not a big deal.” She pats my cheek before picking up her fork again.

”So what happened F/N. Did you gave Jimin the blowjob of his life?” I used a quote mark at the end of the sentence just how she phrased it yesterday. Rori is more interested in that, of course, there’s nothing more important than sex.

”Let me say the food was cold once we were finished.” She chuckled bashfully. Do I have the right set of friends? Maybe I should be pickier about who I call as a friend.

”So he’s big?” Rori asked with a smirk and I almost spitted out the diet coke onto the dining table. We are in a fucking coffee shop for god damn good. Thankfully not the one Yoongi works for but I think he has morning class so he won’t be working either way.

”Please don’t go into details.” I plea and Rori presents me with a devilish grin while picking the chicken breasts out of my salad.

”It’s fine Y/N. I was a virgin too before Jimin. Your time will come, not that it’s a choice.” F/N tries to console me.

”It’s a choice just not mine.” I murmur it under my nose stabbing my salad with the fork before chewing on it without the meat it’s quite sour.

”Yeah. It’s because you and F/N are both have big sticks up your asses.” Used to her blunt remarks I’m not even hurt or surprised for that matter. The busy cafe drowns out the voices of their inappropriate talk at least.

”It’s not our fault that you fuck every man with a pulse.” F/N retorts back with a giggle satisfied with the remark we exchange high fives.

”How do you know it’s a requirement?” Rori lifts one of her brows making us do gagging motions.

”Ugh, That’s disgusting.” I abandon the food on my plate that was a bit too much and we are in the middle of breakfast.

”A person cannot even joke here? I wasn’t serious. Duh.” I should really search for those new friends.

”That’s something I can believe.” The insult wasn’t even spoken out too loud but she heard me all the same and it earned a kick under the table from Rori with his high heels, I returned the glare she sent my way.

***

”Oh, hi.” I step aside to let Yoongi enter, he furrows his brows in concentration if I wasn’t running late I would ponder over the fact how he measures my body by centimetres. I fidget with my earrings but without a mirror, it’s a difficult task to carry out.

”I thought we’re going to meet with the guys at 8.” Realising the motive behind his stare I nod furiously.

”Yeah. But Rori accepted that guy’s offer to taste wines and she’s afraid she’s going to be abducted so me and F/N will accompany her.” I tell him and he doesn’t seem pleased I wasn’t either at first but I hope he won’t do anything with three girls there.

”Be careful. Anyone else knows about this?” He asks with evident worry lacing his voice he steps closer helping to finally get that chape snap into place.

”Jimin knows and I think Jungkook knows too.” Once he’s done he restores the distance between the two of us. ”Also you know F/N she’s apt to be violent.” Yoongi nods.

”Fuck. I’m late.” I swear as I look at the time. With hurried steps, I pick up my boots and size up my keys ready to leave.

”See you later.” Hearing his voice calling out to me I look back smiling a little managing to whisper back a ’see you later’ of my own. I think this was the longest conversation I held with him so far, what a shame I couldn’t stay to talk more.

The wine tasting went better than I expected. That guy is filthy rich he gave us a little tour around the house before letting us each pick out 5 wines of our liking. We learned that he’s a sports major he’s a swimmer and he told us stories about his practises with the swimming team and talked awfully long about his wins and trophies. To be honest he seemed like a bit eccentric and pompous for me but Rori liked him.

We were late because our taxi on its way to the bar got into a little traffic jam. I got a text from Yoongi at the same time F/N got one from Jimin they were curious about where we are and how we are. We wrote back a short text that we’re almost there.

”So? Whose’s the guy?” Jin asked once we are seated down. F/N took her place next to Jimin and Rori beside her leaving me with the only option of sitting down next to Yoongi at the other side of the table.

Once I’m comfortably seated I look around the table I catch in the corner of my eye Namjoon and Jungkook taking shots. Yoongi grabs his alcoholic beverage before him from the table our shoulders brush against each other due to the motion. I bite the inside of my cheeks don’t want to fidget in place.  

”He’s a sports major.” Rori told Jin she told him about our little tour but she conveniently left out the offer about a threesome that I politely declined.

”Oh Y/N you remember that guy who wanted to get your phone number?” Scrunching my nose as the scene flashed before my eyes, of course, I remember. That was one of my most awkward moments and believe me when I say there’s a lot of option to choose from on my list and it’s still the worst. As far as I know, that guy was a sports major too and he was very persistent.

”Yes, what about him?” I nod. I try to shoo the pictures out of head but a forming blush creeping up my neck quicker than I realise.

”Well he’s here. And he’s coming this way.” F/N tells without looking my way her eyes trained behind my form probably to report back his every move. I physically have to hold myself back from whimpering and its not the good kind.

”Shit.” I bite my lower lip don’t want to make things more obvious I don’t turn around to confirm it.

”Oh. I remember. You gave him Rori’s number, don’t you?” Jungkook, you traitor. He was with me when it happened I was flustered enough that he asked Jungkook is my boyfriend or not that I didn’t want to expand my suffering so I gave him my friend's number. She told me if someone I don’t want tries to get into my pants and bothers me I can use her number as a bait knowing her even though my pants were not on the line I still did that. Well, she did more than that after.

”Then what’s the problem?” Jin asks so invested in our conversation that I want to smack him on the neck.

”I was sexting with him and we fucked.” She shrugs. That was what I tried to say. I really don’t want to face that guy.

I stand up with so much vehemency that I almost knock down a glass from the table it’s Yoongi’s empty glass at the bottom of it there’s a thin line of whiskey left. Yoongi grabs my thighs to stabilise me. Looking over his shoulder I saw that said guy indeed walking into this direction.

”Uh, please dance with me?” I grab Yoongi’s hand surprising him for a moment or two but lets me pull him up.

”You have a habit of running away, huh?” I look back to get a grip at the situation. I led Yoongi into the dance floor even though I don’t even know how to dance. He sees the panic settling in my face so he starts guiding me with his hand flat against my lower back. There’s a lot of bodies to avoid so Yoongi is extremely close.

”I don’t like confrontation.” I subtly hide behind his broad shoulders I can see it on him how he tries to stop himself from laughing. I like the sound of his laugh.

”I’m aware.” He purrs into my ear pulling me closer by a hand wrapped around my waist the sweet scent of his cologne hits me like a tone of bricks. I’m painfully aware how his body touches mine my breast pushed against his flat ribcage I can feel him inhaling and exhaling the used oxygen.

”Y-your hand Yoongi.” His hand is dangerously low on my back I’m sure he feels the curve of my ass under his fingers. The bar is dimly lit so my blush remains subtle in a certain extent seeing me blush so many times I wouldn’t be surprised if he would recognise it before it fully blooms on my face.

”What about it?” He clearly wants me to say it but there’s no way I’m going to bluntly say that his hand touches my ass. Rather die.

”What are you doing? Are you drunk?” I defensively ask answering the question with my own questions. He openly finds my antics amusing because this time he laughs. That gummy smile makes my knees weak for him he strengthens his hold on my waist like he knows it.

”My car is here. I’m as sober as I can be.” The hand I placed on his chest when he suddenly pulled me closer itched. He’s touching me and he’s sober. Heaving a sigh he replaces them around his neck I can’t relish in the feeling as his hand on my ass beyond doubt gone since he places it back soon after even lower. The grin he shows me makes me want to give him my fist instead of my virginity.

”Then why are you touching me?” My confidence wavered significantly as he lowered his head his lips closer than ever but instead of kissing me, he blows air into my ear riling me up with the gesture.

”This makes you uncomfortable?” I wanted to say yes, but the full truth would be it’s undeniably uncomfortable and exciting it makes my blood boil under my skin and it scares me how much I want him to touch me tossing aside my insecurities just to feel him like this. At least he knows his boundaries. I don’t know what would I do if his hand suddenly moved.

”No. I’m just embarrassed.” I nervously twist a hair at the nape of his neck didn’t realise the act just when I did it.

”You ran away because you were embarrassed yesterday too?” I stop toying with his hair once the words register in my head. Is he talking about the kitchen incident? And here I thought that there’s nothing more that could make the situation more awkward.

”Y-yes.” The confidence I felt before left me I shy away from his eyes the way he sized me up that day still vivid in my head.

”Why?” A perfect arch of his eyebrows indicating that he wants his answer this time and I am about to give him.

”Because you were staring at me.” I tell him oh so matter of factly. He practically beams at the offered answer the glint in his eyes telling me that’s the answer he seeks in the first place and he has his own set of words in return.

”Wanna know what I thought about while staring at you?” His eyes pinning me to my spot I wouldn’t dare to move away even if I wanted to he seemed determined to get under my skin and maybe under my clothes too.

”No.” I challenge drunk by the boldness maybe the gin tonic I consumed earlier and the wines finally appearing be to be the liquid courage I needed. Reading between the lines Yoongi tells me despite the answer.

”I imagined how you would look like wearing my shirt. It would cover you below your knees since you are tiny. Tell me you’re wearing one of those black panties I saw before?” I don’t answer but I let him pat my knee I can feel his warm palm under the fabric of my jeans he continues with more words even bolder than the first.

”I imagined how you would look like under me on my bed wrapping those long legs around my waist.” Affected by his words I mirror his hungry expression. He’s normally not a man of so many words and hearing him talk this much makes me feel special that he’s talking to me because he feels the need to let me know what’s plaguing his mind. I entertain the idea that maybe he wasn’t sure how to convey the message since I’m so shy he didn’t have a lot of opportunity cornering me before the kitchen incident. Perhaps it was the undo he needed.

”Tell me Y/N. Do you find me attractive?” His fingers stroke the flesh of my jaw he’s getting confident as I don’t push him away.

”You are attractive.” I tell him honestly and he grins but not in a malice kind of way his grin more like a boyish grin that boys wear after hearing that their high school crush likes them back. The happy kind of grin.

”Have you thought about me too? Like I did.” The next question hits differently it’s not so innocent and I wasn’t in the illusion he is.

”Yes.” Holding onto the boldness I agree.

”Tell me.” He urges. He’s sober I remember. Avoiding his stare I let my shyness getting to the best of me he brushes a strand of hair behind my ears coaxing out the reply. It feels nice to be touched by him.

”It’s embarrassing.”

”I told you mine. You have to tell me your fantasies so I can make them come true.” He trails a finger following the line of my collarbone my outfit leaves literally everything to the imagination the only skin he can feel is on my arms.

”You’re unfair.” I whine the words out Yoongi stops his movements to see the emotions behind my eyes. He seems confused by my conflicted expression. His eyes were always expressive and I loved staring at them. Those rare moments shared, eating together at the weekends letting me hear one of his song he proudly introduces.

”How so?”

I take a deep breath cupping his cheeks. ”You look good with dyed hair but I prefer it black. You look the best when you come home from work all sweaty because the air conditioner still not gotten repaired in your workplace so you always take a shower before doing anything else.” There’s glint catching the light in his orbs watching me closely while I tell him the things I locked away in my memories. He caresses my wrist with a raised hand the other directly resting upon mine as it's his face still trapped between the heels of my palms.

”I like your voice.” I let the words flow out like a river caught up in a thunderstorm. ”I always wanted to know how it would sound like moaning my name. I like your hands too.”

”What about them?” A big smile stretches his face knowing too well he won. I don’t feel the frustration of losing I’d gladly accept this fate again and again if it will give me the same results at the end of this.

”Yoongi.” I whine.

”Did you imagined this? Or this?” His hands leaving their position fondling the flesh on my hip hiding me behind his body he walks a hand up my decolletage.

”Stop, we are in public.” I hiss.

”No one pays attention Y/N. But I’ll gladly take this to the bedroom.” The offer temps me but I remember the boys.

”We can’t. You are the only sober one and the guys need their ride home.” I reason and Yoongi groans in frustration. He forgot about them already. He looks at the booth the others are drinking and laughing.

”If I tell Namjoon to stop drinking he would be sober enough to drive them back.”

I shake my head it would be too dangerous and considering he competed with Jungkook about who can take more shots I bet he’s drunk like a donkey alongside with the younger boy. ”I’m drunk too.” I tell him when he tries to come up with more solution.

”Fine.” Yoongi hugs me close probably to hide his displeased face doesn’t want to sound so desperate maybe he’s embarrassed.

”Don’t be like that. I promise if in the morning when I sobered up you still want to do it I’ll let you.”

He perks up gently pushing me away to look into my eyes. ”Let me do what?”

”Let you take me.”

 ***

I feel something warm tickling my sides a sudden wave of cold air hits my stomach but the cold soon replaced with a warm and wet feel against my skin. My eyes narrowly open I try to fidget away wrapping my fingers around the comforter when I feel that wet and warm feeling on my thighs.

Hands and tongue. The fog in front of my eyes clears I don’t remember when did I fell asleep or how did I end up here. Where am I? I spot the synthesizer in the corner Yoongi’s synthesizer. Yoongi’s room.

”Yoongi, what .. ah” My voice raspy from sleep the way he rubbed his nose into my neck just to deliver a long kiss to it after halted my question before I was able to voice it out.

”Did I wake you up. My bad.” He smiled into my skin loving the way my heart beats erratically with his every touch, his hand above my breast feeling the movements of it.

”You don’t sound so sorry about it.”

”Do you have a headache?” He caresses the side of my face helping to curl the locks behind my ear that interfered with my vision. The thoughtful gesture made me smile up at his face mirroring his expression of tenderness.

”No I’m good. I didn’t drink that much.” My fingers itch to touch his face maybe it’s because of the dreamy state I’m currently in that I have the confidence in doing so. I brush my hands through his bangs his eyes closing the caress urges a smile he grabs my hands once I’m about to pull away to move it against his mouth giving a small kiss onto my palm before intertwining them with his much larger ones.

I could get used to this. The image of him looking so raw and so vulnerable his eyes puffy with sleep lazy motions of his fingertip exploring my body under the duvet. My shirt is rolled up just below my breasts the shirt’s neck hangs around my shoulder in a loose coverage it smells like Yoongi just like the covers. Looking down I realise it’s not my shirt. It’s his.

”Glad to hear that. I want you to repeat your promise to me.” Yoongi burrows his face into my neck again his hair brushing against my bare skin the hand that’s not holding mine drops under the covers finding my hip guiding me to drape my right leg over his waist facing each other sideways.

”Promise? Can you be more specific?” I boldly move my hand caressing with feather-light touches his side I can feel his bare torso and hips under my fingers he shivers and not because of the cold. He’s shivering because I touched him and he’s not wearing a shirt. The thought crosses my mind that the shirt I’m wearing is the one he did wear the whole day but not now. Every other day I would be embarrassed but I quite liked the idea of wearing his clothes in his bed.

”A tease I see.” He recovered quicker than I would like he gave a quick peck onto my shoulder where his shirt didn’t cover that much skin. He cupped my breast above the fabric of my bra the sudden feel of him squeezing me there I whined a little bit too loudly. I pulled my hand away shielding my face due to embarrassment.

”Yoongi.” I shyly call his name. He let his hand stay there but he remained motionless giving my hands each a kiss just where my eyes would be if I didn’t hide behind my limbs. His hand felt warm against me where my bra wasn’t covering his two fingers rested directly on the skin of my breast.

”Do I have your consent baby?” I gulp my shy personality says no but my body says yes for me.

”You can have anything.” I place my palm against his that lays on my body my eyes still closed but I don’t shield my face anymore. The words came out as whispers even though I wanted him to hear me say it. I wanted him to go on.

”Love. Answer me.” I open my eyes again when I feel his hand leave my boobs to cup my face with it instead.

”You can have me. You can fuck me. Did it answer your question or should I be more specific?” I wet my lips poking my tongue against the inside of my cheeks trying to calm down the rapid movement of my heart my hands shook as I grip his hair moving my mouth against his to not just say but show my consent. I want this. I want him.

”No. I think it was explicit enough, I like seeing you blush.” Hearing him say that makes me blush harder and he gifts me with a gummy smile basking in the responsive reactions. I would be more embarrassed if I wouldn’t feel the sticky substance dampening my underwear.

”Do you have something in mind? A preference? Or can I surprise you.” The way he explicitly asks about my sexual preferences makes him appear hotter a new wave of arousal hits me making me grind my thighs together forgetting that Yoongi’s leg is between them. I know he felt the wetness but doesn’t comment on it he instead pushes his knees further up parting my legs.

”You d-decide.” I moan when his knee brushes against my crotch. He hummed delighted by my answer. Placing back his hand once more squeezing my breasts before undoing the clasps behind my back. He slowly lets the material fall he strictly looks into my eyes not wandering downwards seeking out my every reaction. I gave him a little nod he takes it as the permission he needed he moves the cover so he can take a look.

”So pretty.” He sighs into my skin he turns my body to be flat against the bed the cold sheets meeting with my back goosebumps travelling up my spine. ”So soft.” He mumbles the endless of praises dragging his fingers over a nipple before licking it with his tongue a choked moan leaves my parted lips his hair gently caressing the skin. He circles the nipple with his poked out tongue kneading the other neglected one with his free hand. Mewls and sighs, in turn, filling the room trying to keep my voice quiet but it’s hard since the only thing I can concentrate on is his mouth on me and his hands those long fingers as he drags them down on my body a finger slides under the waistband of my panty he stretches the material out before letting it snap back into place. The uncomfortable feeling of it sticking to my folds gets frustrating by every passing minute.

”You smell good.” His raspy voice helps me return from my sudden astonishment I scrape his scalp with my long nails as I weave my fingers through his hair he lets out a low growl my skin covering up the noise the vibration he sends up my body by it makes me tighten my legs around his waist my underwear covered cunt pressed against his firm chest forces a not so silent whine out.

”It’s m-my lotion.” I reply absentmindedly. He hums into my collarbone not sure my answer registered truly in his brain I feel him taking a big inhale before pulling away he pushes himself up with the help of his hands planted beside my head looking with heavily lidded eyes taking in my hazed eyes and swollen lips before connecting our mouths. I almost forgot how good of a kisser Yoongi is.  

The light touch against my inner thigh makes my hip jolt up in surprise Yoongi’s eager mouth swallows all the sounds and whimpers. ”Relax.” He purrs aiming for my hips soothing circles into my skin. I take a few deep breaths Yoongi waits patiently for me to calm down a little the way his eyes sizing me up like I’m some kind of goddess eases some of my nerves. Once he’s positive I’m not going to run away he lets his palm touch me the barrier that’s my underwear stays in place as he drags his fingers directly onto my heat. I feel it throb under his ministrations having confidence after a few moans I let out he gets bolder using more pressure to dip between my folds the underwear’s silky touch lets him move smoothly. ”Can I feel it? I want to make sure you’re wet enough before I do anything else.” Nodding even before the question was fully out I anticipate a laugh or something to tease me about my eagerness. I don’t think I wanted someone this bad before to touch me. But he doesn’t laugh he seems as eager as I feel. He slides a finger under the damp material but he retreats too soon. ”Please, can I take it off?” To persuade me further if his plea wasn’t enough he rubs his fingers where my clit is over my panty. The plea was enough but I’m not complaining. I manage to signal him with a breathy yes. Don’t have to tell him twice he slides the ruined material down my legs his big warm hands gripping my inner thighs preventing my legs from closing before he can take a look.

”Look at that. So pink and swollen for me.” Previously he was careful with every move waiting for approval before doing anything bold but like he’s lost all the continence in him Yoongi drags two fingers up my folds coating his fingers with my arousal letting just the tip of his fingers penetrating just to pull back. I let out the loudest moan blushing as I realise just how loud I sounded but Yoongi doesn’t seem to mind, not at all. He wanted to coax more of those sounds as he bent down parting the lips with his tongue letting out his own moans while tasting me and if it’s even possible at this point I feel more turned on than ever.

”Warm too. Sorry, my love, my hands are a little cold but I hope you don’t mind.” He finally slips a finger in my eyes slightly open he watches me with a grin loving the way I squirm wanting it chuckles deep and I don’t mind at all. The stretch his one digit means feels familiar reminding me when I was chasing relief on my own but his fingers are so so much better longer and thicker. I can’t wait to feel the second one.

”I want to make you cum on my tongue.” Delivering a kittenish lick sucking on my clit for the demonstration before he goes on. ”Just to bring you another orgasm with my fingers.” Yoongi curls the one finger in me rubbing it into my throbbing walls ”Lastly let you cum around my cock.” He throws his head back moaning sinfully just thinking he’s about to make everything he said come true. ”You deserve at least three orgasms but I shouldn’t be greedy your virgin cunt can’t handle three.” He eases another finger in this time the stretch is a bit more uncomfortable.

”Let’s start with two.” He says settled with the idea he places a wet kiss onto my hip before finding my abused clit again sucking and rolling it around his tongue my walls contacts around his two digits I feel the sticky substance coating my inner thighs and dripping onto the sheets the mess, the way Yoongi’s hair tickle my thighs, the way he moves his fingers inside me, the pleasure gets overwhelming something starts to build up promising a relief I never had the chance of feeling before.

”Yoongi fuck, Yoongi” His name spills from my mouth and it seems to encourage him to be faster.

”It’s fine.” He tells before sucking harshly on my clit. ”Cum for me.” The proud grin he forms still buried between my legs and the vibration of his hum makes my legs shake I let my head fall back into the pillows closing my eyes until I see literal stars.

He stops lapping my juices once I’m finished the proud smile still plastered on his face licking his lips capturing the remaining of my pleasure. He looks so hot. I never knew I’m capable of coming this hard.

”Good?” Placing a kiss onto my nose he caresses my arms I didn’t realise I was grabbing onto the sheets this tight I let Yoongi place my hands onto his shoulder blades he moves to get between my legs once more.

Instead of answering, I can’t help but impatiently point out. ”You’re still wearing clothes.” I grab his hips pulling on his sweatpants playfully.

”Wanna take it off?” He asks smirking. I roll my eyes at his cockiness not that he’s all talk when it comes to his skills but he has more ego than he can manage and I’m not going to increase it for him.

”So what? Don’t tell me you are not eager even more than me to bury your dick into my virgin pussy.” His eyes grow bigger for a split second before it regains its original state, so he can be startled too. I’m surprised by my boldness, but god, it’s worth it seeing him so fucked up by those words.

”You’re playing a dangerous game Y/N. I need my self-control right now.” Something shifted in his eyes he looks like he’s about to devour me. Yoongi shifts onto his knees to get rid of the final barriers between us. I close my eyes my shyness returns too soon but Yoongi doesn’t mind it I open my eyes again as he positions myself above me placing a firm kiss onto my lips he senses I’m anxious.

”Do you trust me?” Seeing the open vulnerability in his shiny orbs, not entirely clouded by lust makes my head swim with a lot of suppressed emotion. I feel the urge to smile lifting my head from the pillows beneath me I give him a peck.

”Of course I am.” I kinda like you. I bite into my lips before the next sentence could slip through we’ll talk about this another time. Right, the only thing I want to focus on is Yoongi. Only Yoongi. His tip brushes against my stomach, shit, I haven’t seen how big he is. His lip pressed to mine swallows the tiny moan leaving my lips as he pushes the first inch inside parting my walls in a painful stretch. Fuck. He’s big.

”Tight.” Yoongi moans, more in pleasure than I am currently in but it’s ok. He made me cum I want to see him cum too. ”Relax for me angel I won’t hurt you I promise.” Relishing in the way he caresses my side I try to relax my body he pushes another inch in slowly his tip must be fully buried by now.

”That’s right. You’re doing so well.” He praises his eyebrows knit together in concentration he’s holding himself back because of me. Touched by the gesture I move my hip to meet his advances he slips in deeper than he intended his groan significantly louder by the sudden pleasure.

”Does it hurt?” He pulls himself together to keep the eye contact he caresses the skin under my eye I nod before answering.

”A little.”

”Let’s try a few more thrusts if it still hurts after that I’ll stop and eat you out again. Shit. Maybe I should have made you cum again for the extra lubrication.” Yoongi regretfully gazes at my face.

”It’s fine. Just go slow.” I say the burning is bearable I’m getting used to the feeling slowly but not sure if I can cum again.

”My baby is so tight.” I’m definitely a sucker for those pet names. It helps me focus on his words instead of his slow thrusts. ”I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel. Feeling you wrapped around me a dream come true.” I experimentally squeeze around him and he lets out a loud moan his head nestled into my neck groaning and moaning between filthy words his pace got quicker but I don’t stop him even though it’s not feeling as good as him eating me out. I want to please him though and by the sounds, he seems very pleased.

”Are you alright?” He stops after hearing a louder whiny moan on my part but I don’t let him I circle my hips in place dragging out moans from him but he forces himself to reset his previous slower pace. I’m not having any of it. I want him to cum and want it soon.

”Yoongi” I whine out his name an idea foggily forming at the back of my head. ”Yoongi, I wanna ride you.”

”Are y-you sure?” He stills inside of me waiting for the confirmation and I nod inviting him into a kiss that turns slopy by time. I feel his hands grabbing at my waist to change position this way he sinks in deeper.

Holy shit it feels so much better.

”Fuck. Do you like this?” He grips my hips dragging his cock touching every sensitive part in me as my walls swallow his shaft he pulls me up just to let me sink down with a needy moan I’m starting to feel the appeal.

”Yes. I-ah-think.” I can almost picture the way my eyes roll back behind my skull right now. What was I saying? ”Go faster.” I choke out and Yoongi with a following set of groans obligates I’m too far gone to pay attention to how Yoongi watches with hungry eyes that I ruin the bedsheets.

”I like that you are so messy.” He places a stray hair behind my ears our chests pressed together so he can thrust up faster and harder. Yoongi holds me in place taking control the way his eyes shuts involuntarily and his member twitching inside of me signals that he’s close.

He’s breathtakingly beautiful as he reaches his high he’s so lost in the pleasure my walls provide so tight around him that he doesn’t have the mind to kiss me back so I just press them together for a minute longer. My legs ache because of the exercise but I let him use me to ride out his high the pretty sounds and satisfied look he gives me once seated firmly inside me with our mixed cum spilling out he looks down where our body connects rubbing the skin of my hip lovingly while watching me ruin his sheets. He likes that I’m messy.

”I hope you like me back because I don’t think I could fuck anyone else from now on.” I end up in a pit of laughter leaning my head on his shoulder he feels my body shake with the motion Yoongi whines in overstimulation when I accidentally squeeze his spent member. I peck the skin where my head previously rested before searching for Yoongi’s eyes.

”I do like you back.” I admit it shyly even though there’s nothing to be shy about his dick is still inside for fuck’s sake.

”Glad to hear that.” His grin returns faster than the speed of light. ”I thought I fucked your brains out when you suddenly started laughing. I was concerned for a minute.” I try to hit his shoulder but he’s faster grabbing my hand by the wrist and gives the flesh an attentive kiss the gesture is sweet and melts my heart.

”How are you feeling?” It’s cute how he seeks my reassurance. He lets me move away careful when pulling out so I can finally take the previous position lying down.

”Hm, sore but good. I just need .. some time. I don’t think I can stand up just yet.” I offer my honest reply burying my nose into the duvet that got tossed aside. He leaves the room making me confused but once he’s back with a towel in hand I pierce two and two together. It’s his towel. The thought is enough to make me blush furiously.

”Spread your legs for me.” I take the request as an order shyly spreading my legs so he can clean me up. ”There. All cleaned up.” The bed squeaks under the weight of his one knee pushing me further into the sheets. Yoongi bows down to kiss me his tongue teases my lips as we kiss asking for permission that I eagerly permit.

[some-kindofgnome]

august slipped away

i. ii.

Otherwise known as the Thanksgiving fic.

characters: mirio x f!reader

wc: 2.6k

warnings: smut (18+ please!), quirkless AU, angst, Thanksgiving long-distance woes, mirio’s very ugly little subaru

notes: Happy Birthday @drapetomaniac​! I’m so glad I was able to get this finished on time. I’m so grateful to have met you on this lil site, so consider this my birthday gift to you! 💖  This serves as a part ii to my Kinktober fic “with autumn closing in.” It got ANGSTY. I hope you love it.

on the prompt: “It’s November – the month of crimson sunsets, parting birds, deep, sad hymns of the sea, passionate wind-songs in the pines.” This beautiful line was written by Lucy Maud Montgomery, a wonderful Canadian writer, in her novel Anne of the Island, published in 1915.

MASTERLIST

Mini Prompt Event!

It’s November – the month of crimson sunsets, parting birds, deep, sad hymns of the sea, passionate wind-songs in the pines.

Despite the traffic, the drive into your hometown’s been remarkably quiet. You’ve hitched a ride with a friend, and with Starbucks in your cupholders and weeks worth of laundry piled into her trunk, you ride back in near-silence.

She knows what’s on your mind as she pulls off the exit, the all-too-familiar sign that marks your hometown sending a rush of anxiety straight to your gut.

You’re not looking forward to this weekend as much as you should be. You miss your family- your parents, your dog, your bedroom- but there’s another gaping question mark that fills the rest of the weekend, too harrowing to ignore.

Mirio.

After a very tearful goodbye at the end of the summer, things were good between you. You texted all the time and called him whenever you could. You even wrote letters back and forth in the first month of the semester. Mirio’s were never decked out in stickers or lavish penmanship like yours were, but they teared you up all the same.

But college is difficult. And you’re both starting this year, so it’s been a lot for both of you to adjust to. You and Mirio always kind of sailed through high school without too much extra studying, so the amount of work it takes to do well in college has been a massive wake-up call.

It’s putting a strain on your relationship with him. Slowly, at first.

You were too busy with papers and assignments to call during the week, but he was too busy with practices and games and training to call on the weekends. The letters dwindled in frequency and then ceased altogether. Now you’ll go days without hearing from each other at all.

There’s never been a doubt in your mind that long-distance was going to be difficult. But you’re pretty sure it’s not supposed to feel like this.

Your friend drops you off in the driveway and squeezes your tight shoulder. She promises you that it’s going to work out, one way or the other. Then she pulls away to continue to her own city and you climb up the front steps with two garbage bags of laundry in your hands.

You’re attacked by your ecstatic dog at the door, and your mother doesn’t follow far behind. The house is already fragrant with the spiced aroma of baking pumpkin pies, and your mother cries as she hugs you tightly. So do you.

A few minutes later, with your first load of laundry spinning away, you flop onto the couch. To your delight, there’s a text from Mirio. You’re kind of hoping to see him tonight, but you’re not sure what time he was planning on getting into town. Still, a text from him seems promising.

Home yet? It reads.

You’re trying not to let it show that you’re brimming with happiness.

Just got in, you text breezily, curling your knees to your chest with a little smile tugging at your lips. It feels so good to talk to him again here, knowing you’ve got nothing but time to spend with him this weekend.

You text back and forth a little bit, soft little messages about how good it feels to be home and how glad you are that he got home safe. The last message you type out feels indulgent but so good, and you send it with every expectation of an immediate response.

Wanna come over?

Read 7:12 pm

Dull silence persists from your phone. One hour goes by. Two hours. The temptation to send him another message is overwhelming. You’ve been well past the point of avoiding double texts for as long as you can remember.

But this feels… different. Like you shouldn’t bother him. Like, somehow, that’ll only make the silence worse.

So you don’t. Fair enough.

The next day, you’re up to your elbows helping your family get ready for dinner. Your mom has an unfortunate habit of pulling out the stops, but the meal turns out fantastic. Dealing with your extended family is as draining as always, but you’re texting Mirio every so often under the table and he seems happy enough to respond.

You think about bringing up his sudden disappearance last night, but figure he’d been preoccupied with his family. Tonight, his texts are in good spirits.

It’s not until you’re curled up in bed with a belly full of turkey that you try again.

Wanna do something tomorrow? I have brunch in the morning, but I could meet you after.

Read 10:36 pm

Nothing.

Fool me once, you don’t want to let yourself think. But Mirio’s pretty good at putting his phone down when it’s time for bed, so you tell yourself he’s just gone to sleep. He’s gone to sleep and in the morning you’re going to wake up to a sweet little text from him with fresh plans from the afternoon.

Unfortunately, the trend continues. You catch and hold his attention for a few messages a time every day, but every time you mention meeting up in person, you get radio silence. It’s gotten to the point where you know it’s on purpose, and yet every time you fail to confront him, your embarrassment deepens.

Mirio doesn’t play games with you. It feels wrong, to have him jerking your heart around like this. But you give him the benefit of the doubt all weekend.

Finally, it’s Sunday. Your washed, folded laundry is packed neatly in the hallway. You’re finishing up dinner and your family knows, at this point, to keep quiet about Mirio.

You’ve given up on seeing him entirely.

As your family cleans up, you try one more time. You know you shouldn’t. You have every expectation of being treated the same way you have all weekend- why should this time work out any differently?

But you do it anyway.

Hey… I know you might be busy with family stuff, but we’re both going back tomorrow so tonight’s kinda the last chance I can see you…

To your surprise, just a few minutes later, you get a reply,

Want me to pick you up?

Within half an hour, his familiar little Subaru is waiting for you in the dark. Your heart clenches tightly, watching him parked in the driveway. You haven’t seen him in months.

You’d expected a happier reunion.

Still, there’s a sort of lightness that tugs at your heart as you pick your way down the front steps. You tug open the passenger’s side door- the inside of the car is toasty from the rattling little heater that’s always smelled just a little bit burnt.

Mirio has a sad sort of tired smile on his lips, but you can see the relief in his gaze. You’ve almost forgotten what he looks like in real-time like this.

“Hi,” you gasp, almost shyly. You tug the door shut and he shifts the car into gear. You can’t help the little clench of anticipation you get when he puts a hand on the back of your seat to glance over his shoulder.

When he looks back at you, he looks a little brighter.

“Wanna get some coffee?”

He takes you through the Starbucks drive-thru and buys you both iced coffees. The ice rattles cold and sweet inside the cups as he drives you out of town, taking you up the winding road to the point. Neither of you says a thing. You haven’t planned a thing, but you don’t need to.

As you draw closer to the familiar little lookout, your stomach tightens.

Something feels very wrong about the way he’s treating you. By the time he pulls off the road and rolls along the battered gravel path, you’re almost in tears.

You should’ve seen this coming the first time he left you on read. Mirio’s never left you on read before.

“Well,” you mumble, your heart pounding in your throat. You know you’re going to regret this, but it’s killing you to sit in silence. You reach into the centre console and grab your coffee, shaking it weakly in front of him.

“At least you bought me a coffee before breaking up with me.”

Mirio reacts visibly in the dark next to you.

“What?” He looks over, dark eyes shining with betrayal. His blonde brow is firm and set, but there’s genuine surprise in his expression.

“Break up with you?” His voice is trembling. “W-why would I-“

Now you feel even stupider. The tears come, hot and fast and unrelenting. Your next words come in a pinched sob.

“Why wouldn’t you?” You’ve cried like this in front of him before, but this is the first time it’s ever seemed embarrassing.

“I tried to see you all weekend, all I wanted was to see you.” You’re sniffling wildly, and you knee open the glove box because you know he always keeps tissues there. “I missed you so much and-and you wouldn’t even talk to me.”

He whimpers your name, quiet as a prayer. He’s tearing up, too, gripping the steering wheel tightly with his face screwed up in pain.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks. “I was… I thought…”

He’s pausing like you’re going to interrupt him, but you don’t. He bows his head, continuing.

“I was afraid to see you,” he confesses, “because I thought you wanted to break up with me.”

The relief you expect doesn’t come. Instead, a deeper, sicker pain wraps itself around your heart.

“Why would you think that?”

“Because you don’t talk to me anymore,” he ejects. “Not in the same way. I… I know you’re busy, and I know I’m busy, but… things just felt different. Ever since Homecoming, I-I just…”

Homecoming was the one weekend that Mirio had been to visit you since the summer. That was a reunion that felt as good as it was supposed to. You’ll never forget bounding out of your residence hall to find him there, leaning against the edge of his little car like it was a souped-up Harley Davidsen. You’ll never forget the way he laughed when you launched yourself into his arms.

But that was where the bliss had stopped.

Homecoming was a bad weekend for him to visit. You should have seen that coming. You were busy with your brand new friendships, hopping from party to party. And though you were both all smiles when he was climbing into his car again on Sunday night, you’d known he left feeling a little neglected.

“Mirio,” you sob, reaching for him. You pull his eyes to yours with a hand under his jaw- a little unshaven, scratchy- and his cheeks are wet with fresh tears of his own. “I missed you like hell. I love you. I mean that every single time I say it. And I-“

You hate this kind of thing with him. Neither of you takes conflict very well. And though there have always been fights, this is the largest reckoning you’ve ever had.

“I had so many plans for us this weekend,” you admit, and the hurt takes over. Because no matter how you resolve this, that’s time that you can never get back. “And now I have to go back tomorrow and so do you and this is all we’re gonna have.”

“I know,” he sniffles right back. His voice is weak. Trembling. You haven’t seen him like this since his dog died, right after you graduated high school. “God, I-I… I’m so sorry.”

He’s reaching for you now, winding his arms awkwardly over the centre console to pull you close. You have to lean way over but you do, burying your face into the chest of his jacket.

You both sob openly, for nobody but yourselves.

“I don’t want it to be like this,” you plead. “I don’t want to be fighting for things to feel right. I can’t take four more years of this, Mirio, I can’t.”

He’s stroking a palm down the back of your head now, burying his nose into your hair.

“It won’t be,” he promises. “I’m gonna try harder. I’m gonna- I promise.”

“It’s both of us,” you reply. Your voice drops as you start to, slowly, regain control. “It’s me too. I need to try harder, too. I don’t want it to end like this.”

You nose your way to the surface, peering up at him. You both look ridiculous, faces pinched and teary. But none of that matters when you’re leaning up and he’s leaning down and he’s kissing you, all soft and loving in that way that used to make you melt.

It still does.

You let it grow heated, let yourself grab him by the cheeks and pour all of the desperate longing you’ve been doing into this kiss. It becomes very clear to you that you’re not going to be getting out of this car a single woman. And relief spreads warm and gooey through your gut.

“I wanna,” you whisper, pulling back with your eyelashes fluttering. Mirio cups your cheeks and warmly swipes the last of your drying tears away. He leans in and nuzzles the chilled tip of your nose with his.

“You sure?”

You bite your lower lip and shoot him a quiet, sly little nod.

This time, when you climb into the backseat together, no blankets or pillows are waiting for you. But you don’t care. You let him splay you across the narrow back seat, hitching one knee up over the backrest and stretching the other one out alongside him.

It’s a good deal colder this time around. And you can’t wait to get to each other. Your clothes are barely shoved out of the way by the time he’s nudging his stiff tip against your folds. You’re pushing the long hem of his sweatshirt out of the way for him, and he looks down at you with such determined adoration that you wonder why you ever doubted his love in the first place.

He eases into you slow and gentle, just like the first time. Very unlike the second time, harried and rushed under the covers of your rickety dorm bed.

You drag his lips to yours while he bottoms out inside you, wrapping that free leg around his hips and keeping him buried tight.

He fucks you just like that, in deep, tiny little strokes that nudge the tenderest parts of your belly and send pleasure trickling right down your spine each time. He kisses every part of your skin that he can reach, whispering his devotion to you over and over and over again until his voice breaks. Until all he can do is grunt and sigh and shake above you as he pours his climax into you, bringing you to a quiet little peak beneath him.

You stay tangled for a long time, despite the cramps quickly developing in your forcibly angled limbs. He lays between your thighs, listening to your heartbeat as your lazy fingers drift through the sweat-damped strands of his golden hair.

“Hey,” he murmurs warmly, lifting his chin to find your eyes. “I wanna drive you back to school tomorrow, okay?”

“What?” You frown. “Mirio, that’s two hours in the opposite direction for you. Don’t-“

“Please,” he insists, and something in his tone makes you stop. He slides his hands up your sides. “I want to. I didn’t… I should’ve seen you more this weekend. Let me. Please?”

You give a breathy little laugh, laying your head back against the edge of the seat. Your heart throbs with that all-too-familiar warmth.

“My mom’ll be pissed,” you tease, and you feel him grin against your chest.

You’re going to be okay.

[kaylaxwrites]

Catch the Wind

Pairing: Matt Murdock/reader Words: 7.2k Summary:  You like Matt. You’re pretty sure he likes you too. Then why does he say no when you ask? What is he hiding and why won’t Foggy tell you?Request:  “How about an old friend of Foggy and Matt, who has this will they won’t they thing with Matt and she finally tries to act on it for her only to get turned down by him. His decision was because he is too focused on being Daredevil and doesn’t want her to be swept up in that so they decide to be friends, but it takes a strain on her relationship with Matt but also with Foggy too. Then like decide where it should go from there” (anon)  A/N: decided to put this all in one part at an attempt for more notes lol

For me to love you now Would be the sweetest thing T'would make me sing Ah, but I may as well try and catch the wind

“Catch the Wind” - Donovan

You had been best friends with Matt Murdock for nearly as long as you could remember. As the longest—and oldest—resident of Saint Agnes Orphanage, you had been assigned to show Matt around when he first arrived after his father’s death.

You quietly knocked on the open doorframe. The boy inside sniffled and quickly wiped away his tears before turning towards you. “Come in,” he said, never meeting your eyes. At first, you assumed he was embarrassed to be caught crying.

“Nice glasses,” you offered, hoping to draw his attention away from the death of his parents—or whatever happened to his family that led him here.

The boy pushed the glasses higher up on his nose. “Oh. Yeah. Thanks, I guess.”

You stepped across the room and took a seat on the edge of his bed. “You must be special. Sister Anne would never let me wear sunglasses inside.”

“Oh, they’re…not really…sunglasses.”

He spoke so quietly, you didn’t really make out what he said. So you continued talking anyway. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Matt Murdock.”

You stuck your hand out for him to shake. “Nice to meet you, Matt Murdock.” You froze awkwardly as the kid made no motion to shake your hand. But then you put everything together—his dark glasses, the way he never met your eyes, the cane you were now noticing against the wall—he was blind. And you were an idiot. “I’m, uh, holding out my hand for you to shake.”

“Oh, sorry.”

At last, you shook hands, and you tried not to let the awkwardness sink in. “Um, so Sister Maggie told me to show you around. Do you want to go?” Matt nodded and stood, collecting his cane off the wall. You stood as well, unsure of yourself. “I’ve given this tour a dozen times to newbies, but never to a blind guy. How does this work? Do we hold hands or…?” You quickly shut your mouth. Obviously, you wouldn’t be holding hands—why would you hold hands with a stranger?

“No,” Matt chuckled. “Just give me your elbow.”

“Oh, sure.” You did as Matt said and led him out to the hallway. “I don’t know if they told you, but your room is the third one on the right. You must be lucky. You got a single room. Most of us have to share.” You directed Matt down the stairs until you were on the first floor. “We can’t go in now because they’re setting up for dinner, but the dining hall is here on the left. Breakfast is at 7 on weekdays, 8 on weekends, and dinner is always at 6.” You led Matt further down the hall and out the door. You stepped into a small, sunlit courtyard.

“This is the way to the church,” you continued explaining. “I don’t know if you’re Catholic, but you’re gonna be here real soon.” You stopped in front of the doors to the church, but didn’t go inside. “We’re required to go to Mass Sunday mornings and Wednesday evenings, as well as the weekly Mass school gives.”

“School?”

“Yeah, Saint Agnes also runs a school on the other side of the block. It’s where we all go.”

“So I won’t be able to go to my old school anymore?”

You sighed. Newbies always had a hard time finding out they’d no longer be attending school with their friends. “No. Sorry.” His face fell. “But! I think we’re in the same grade, so we should have some classes together. I remember when I was the new kid, but, hey—you already got one friend. It shouldn’t be too bad.”

“What friend?”

You nudged his shoulder. “Me, doofus.”

Matt smiled softly at you and from that moment on, you were thick as thieves.  

As you grew, you slowly realized you probably had more-than-friends feelings for Matt, but you never spoke about them out loud, nor did you dwell on them very often. Matt was your best friend—your only friend—and you didn’t want that to change. So you locked the butterflies in your stomach down tight and shoved those feelings in the back of your brain. It didn’t help that as you neared graduating high school, everyone thought you were dating. You even caught the nuns who worked the orphanage whispering sometimes about how wonderful the two of you would look married—as if things would ever get that far.

When you went to college, your pool of friends expanded by one: Matt’s roommate, Foggy. Foggy quickly became your other best friend—since you were around Matt all the time, it made sense that you and Foggy would be close as well. In fact, it was to Foggy one drunken night when you confessed your feelings for Matt for the first time.

You and Foggy stumbled back to campus after a night out on the town. You, Foggy, and alcohol were never a good mix—you always tried to drink the other under the table until neither of you could stand upright. You leaned against each other for support as Foggy fumbled with his keys to the dorm. You laughed loudly when he dropped them and fell trying to pick them up, but he quickly shushed you. “Shhhhh. Matt’s trying to study,” he slurred, trying and failing to whisper quietly. Matt said he couldn’t go out with the two of you that night because he had a test on Monday morning.

You made a zipping motion over your mouth, but giggled again as you watched Foggy unlock the door. He was on his knees, the doorknob at eye level, as he concentrated on putting the key in the lock as a surgeon would make an incision. He fell on his stomach when the door finally swung open. You leaped over him as soon as you could, eager to see Matt and annoy him to stop studying.

But the room was empty.

You turned to Foggy (finally standing), almost pouting. “Maybe he had to go to the library?” he offered. You shrugged, and then collapsed onto Matt’s bed. You weren’t sure your legs would hold you up any longer.

Foggy puttered around the room, trying to drunkenly change clothes, as you snuggled into Matt’s pillow. You closed your eyes to stop the world from spinning, but that made you realize how tired you were. “You know,” you yawned, almost half asleep now, “I think that girl at the bar really liked you.”

“Who? The pink shirt?”

You nodded into the pillow. “Yeah, she kept looking at you and smiling.”

“Huh.”

You peeked open one eye to stare at him. “Are you not going to ask me why I didn’t act as your wing woman?”

Foggy’s cheeks flushed. “Uh, no, that’s okay.” His voice was higher pitched than usual. What was he trying to hide? If you could move your limbs, you would have crossed the room to stare him down. As it was, you tried to be as intimidating as you could with your face half squished in a pillow.

“Who do you like?” you asked after a moment, finally coming to the conclusion that he must have a crush on someone.

“No one. Who do you like?” he countered.

“I’ll answer if you answer.”

He stared at you for a moment before flopping back on his bed. “You know the girl from my study group?”

You quickly sat up, instantly regretting it as the room—and your stomach—swirled uncomfortably. But you pushed it aside. “Marci Stahl? You like Marci?”

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Don’t make a big deal about it.”

“Ooh, I am so going to have to tell her.”

“Don’t!” Foggy quickly turned to face you.

“Why not? I already know she likes you.”

“She does?”

“Um, yeah, it’s obvious.” That, and she sat with you at lunch one day and had asked about him.

“Cool,” he sighed happily, laying back down. You huffed a laugh, surprised that was all he had to say. You slumped back into Matt’s bed, eyes drifting closed. You were almost asleep when Foggy called you out on your promise. “Who do you like?”

You froze. You tried to search for a fake name, but the copious amounts of alcohol you had this evening meant you couldn’t think of one. So you sighed and figured you might as well say it. Foggy wouldn’t tell, right? And it was probably best you got it out of your system. “Uh…Matt?” you said quietly. You weren’t even sure if Foggy heard you.

But he did, and after a moment’s silence, he asked, “Have you told him?”

“Definitely not. I didn’t want to mess anything up between us and now…”

“Elektra,” Foggy finished for you.

It seemed Matt had been hanging out with Elektra more than you and Foggy lately. You tried not to let it get to you. Matt was allowed to have other friends, after all—even girlfriends—but something about her gave you a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach. You couldn’t put your finger on the feeling or why it was there, but it worried you nonetheless.

“You won’t tell him, will you?” you asked. But Foggy was already asleep.

You were pretty sure Foggy kept this secret over the years, as Matt never once mentioned it to you. Or he was so drunk he forgot about it. That, or Matt similarly thought you should just be friends and never brought it up himself. Either was okay with you.

But now your feelings were somehow growing and you were ready for things to change.

You were hanging out at Matt’s apartment—you always did, every Friday. It was tradition. The two of you were tucked into opposite ends of the couch, watching random things on your laptop. You described what was happening whenever an audio description wasn’t available. But it had been several minutes since you last spoke. Matt hadn’t dozed off, like you originally believed, but he was lost in thought. You tried not to disturb him, thinking he was planning his opening for a case or something like that.

But the three glasses of wine in your system had other plans.

You slowly slid across the middle of the couch until you were inches away, thighs nearly touching. Matt gave no indication that he noticed you. “Hey, Matt?” you whispered after a few moments of silence. His head tilted towards you, indicating that he was listening, but he said nothing. “Can I tell you something?”

“Always,” he replied. He turned his body to face you, realizing from the tone of your voice, you guessed, that this was serious.

“I-I—uh…” you began. You heart pounded. What even were words? “Ilikeyou,” you finally breathed in one rush of words.

“I like you too.”

Your heart constricted. “More than friends, I mean.”

“I know.”

What? Your brain froze. You couldn’t comprehend. You were expected Matt to laugh you off, Matt to turn you down, Matt to do anything but that. “You—you do?” Matt nodded. “Then why…why didn’t you say anything?”

“I could ask you the same question.” He was smiling at you.

“I didn’t want to change anything. Between us. But I told Foggy once in college… I think maybe part of me thought he wouldn’t be able to keep his big mouth shut.”

“Oh, he told me.”

Your eyes widened. “He did? Oh, I’m gonna kill him.” You sprung from the couch, searching for your phone. But Matt stopped you with a hand around your wrist.

“Hey, it’s fine.” He pulled you back to sit next to him. Your thighs were pressed against one another. “I thought you wanted him to spill.”

“A bigger part of me wanted him to forget. We were really drunk that night.”

Matt’s thumb moved to rub circles on the inside of your wrist. Goosebumps raised on your skin. “I remember.” You were surprised he did. But you guessed maybe it was hard to forget the time your best friend told your other best friend that they liked you. Even if you weren’t there. You were sure Foggy gave him all the details.

Matt continued to rub circles into your skin and it was hard to think about much else. Your eyes raised to meet his. You sighed. His eyes were so gorgeous. You wished he didn’t hide them behind his glasses all the time, but you understood. Even then, you wished you could stare into his eyes all day.

Your gaze flicked down to his mouth. Before you knew it, your lips were pressed into his. He froze for a second, not returning the kiss, and you panicked. But before you could pull away, his hand was on the side of your face, pulling you closer. As your lips crashed into one another, you regretted not doing this sooner. He was an amazing kisser.

As things delved deeper, you turned to press your body tightly against his. You threw one leg across his lap and eased him back against the back of the couch. Your hands roamed—through his hair, over his shoulder, down his arms, across his chest. But when you brushed across his ribs, he gasped in pain and pulled back. You instantly sprung off of him.

“Oh, my god, are you okay?” you asked. “What happened?” You knew Matt somehow amassed a large collection of bruises and broken bones—he was just clumsy, he’d tell you ever since they started appearing in your teens. But you weren’t so sure. You’d never even seen Matt stumble once. You slapped Matt’s hands away as you reached for the bottom of his shirt, pulling it up to reveal his ribcage.

Blue bruises stood in stark contrast to his skin, surrounded by cuts and scratches of various depths. He winced when your fingers ghosted across the widest bruise—was a rib broken? Several other injuries trailed around his side and you figured his back was in similar shape.

“What happened?” you demanded once more. “Have you gone to the doctor? Were you mugged? Did you call the police?”

Matt’s hands landed on your shoulders to stop your barrage of questions. “I’m fine,” he said, but he gave no further explanation.

“That’s not fine, Matt.”

“I saw a nurse. It’s nothing that won’t heal in a couple of days.”

You breathed a small sigh of relief. But you were still left with so many questions. “Who did this to you? What happened?”

“I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. But it’s handled. They won’t be bothering anyone else.”

“That’s good,” you sighed. You wanted to ask more questions, but you knew Matt was being purposefully vague. Why wouldn’t he tell you what happened? Why didn’t he tell you that he was hurt? You wanted to press him more, but you knew Matt was as stubborn as a bull and there was no way you’d get any more information out of him. Tonight, at least. So you decided to distract yourself with the other question filling your head. “So…what about us?”

“We can’t.” Matt’s answer was immediate. No hesitation.

You felt as if a horse had kicked you in the chest. Your breath was knocked out of you. “What?”

“I…we can’t. There’s too many things going on and I can’t risk it.”

“What’s going on? You can tell me—you can always come to me. You know you can.”

Matt hung his head, leaning over his knees. “I can’t.”

Your eyes stung with unshed tears. Matt always came to you. You practically told each other everything. Had you messed things up by confessing your feelings?

“Does it have to do with your bruises?” you said softly.

Matt didn’t reply.

You stared at him, searching for words to say, begging for him to say something. But each of you remained silent.

Nothing.

“I have to go,” you said at last. You scrambled to throw on your shoes and gather your things.

Your heart shattered when Matt made no move to stop you.

“Do you know what’s going on with Matt?” you asked Foggy, pushing your food around with your fork. The two of you were at your favorite diner for your regular biweekly lunches.

“Uh, no. What do you mean?” Foggy’s eyes instantly darted out of the window. He fiddled with his hands. Foggy may be a lawyer, but you had known him long enough to know he knew exactly what was going on.

“I was at his place the other night and he had these bruises…” You gestured over your ribcage, indicating where Matt’s bruises were located.

“Oh. He probably fell down the stairs again. You know Matt.” Foggy chuckled nervously. He wouldn’t meet your eyes.

“Mhm,” you hummed skeptically. You stared Foggy down. Once or twice, he would glance up at you, but his gaze fluttered away when he realized you were still staring. The waitress brought your checks over and he fumbled getting his money out of his wallet and struggled with gathering his things. Before he could get up and leave, you spoke his name, forcing him to look at you. “Foggy. What’s going on with Matt?”

“Nothing, I swear—”

“Foggy.”

He looked at you and sighed. You were hoping he realized you wouldn’t back down. “I can’t tell you.”

“Why.” It wasn’t a question. It was a demand.

“He promised me not to.”

“Is he in some sort of secret blind Fight Club?”

“If only.”

You reached across the table to grab Foggy’s arms. You leaned towards him. If your college days taught you anything, you might be able to puppy-dog-eye your way to get what you want. “Foggy. Is he in trouble?” you said slowly, quietly.

He turned his head, looking away, as if to find somebody who would rescue him from your gaze. But there was no one. “Y/N, I…I really can’t do this.” His voice was weak. “I can’t tell you.” He pulled free from your grasp, standing and walking away from you. “I’ll see you next week,” he said over his shoulder as he exited the building.

You sat back in your seat, resting heavily against the booth. What was going on? There was nothing, nothing that they had hidden from you before.

At least…not that you knew of.

So why were they hiding this?

You ignored their texts and calls over the next couple of days. You were angry that they were keeping things from you. You were upset that Matt had rejected your feelings just like that, so easily. Your emotions overwhelmed you and you weren’t sure how to process them—so you just ignored them.

After about a week of the silent treatment, they sent Karen over to your apartment one night. She carried your favorite takeout in her hands as a bribe. You took it, of course, but you weren’t happy about it.

“They’re worried about you,” Karen said once the two of you were sat at your table, food dished out in front of you.

You speared a vegetable with a little too much force. “Yeah, well, they wouldn’t have to be if they would just tell me what’s going on.”

“I’m sure they have good reason.”

“You didn’t see the state Matt was in. Something big is going on.”

“Matt said he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Maybe he was mugged and they don’t want to tell you so you’re not worried?”

“I wish that was the case.” You turned to face her. “How are you so calm about this? I mean, don’t you think something’s up?”

“I talked to him a few days ago and…he’ll tell us when he’s ready.”

You huffed and rolled your eyes. With Matt’s stubbornness, he wouldn’t tell you anything until the information leaked on its own. You’d have to wear down Foggy or…

Karen sighed. She could tell she wasn’t going to be able to get through to you. She decided to change the subject before you could rant any more.

“Seen anything good on Netflix lately?” she offered and the two of you made small talk for the rest of the evening.

A few days later, you were cursing yourself as you were backed into an alleyway. How could you be so stupid? You dropped your guard walking home for one minute and look where it got you. You knew to always be aware of your surroundings, so why did you stop to check the notification on your phone? Just one cute video sent from a friend of her dog and you were about to be robbed of your belongings…or worse.

You tried to form an escape plan—or at least a get-out-alive plan—but your brain was short-circuiting. You nearly shrieked when a dark mass seemingly fell from the sky. Your heart sped faster. Was this man an accomplice to your attacker? Would you now have to face two men to get out of this alley?

But you breathed a small sigh of relief as the man rose from his crouched position on the concrete. You had seen enough pictures in the Bulletin to recognize that this was the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. In the flesh. Right here in front of you.

The masked man took only one step forward but it was enough to send your would-be attacker running for the hills. The masked man cocked his head to the side, listening for a moment, before turning to face you. “Are you alright?” he asked. His voice was comforting, like an old friend.

You let out a shaky breath. “Y-Yeah, I’m fine.” You crossed your arms in an effort to hide your trembling hands. “I wish I knew all it took to scare someone away was to wear a mask. Maybe I’ll start carrying one around.”

The man smiled, small but tense. “If only that’s all it took.”

You glanced awkwardly around the alley, unsure of what to say next. “I, um, thank you?” You cleared your throat. “Thank you,” you tried again. “I…I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t shown up.” You tried to clamp down on your wandering thoughts, but it was hard to stop the flashes of possibilities in your brain.

“Is there anyone you could call to come get you?”

Matt. Foggy. Karen. But you still didn’t feel like reaching out to any of them just yet. You shook your head. “No. My apartment’s just two blocks away, anyway. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’m okay. I’m just a little shaken, but I can make it. Thank you.”

The man hesitated a moment longer, seeming to check that you would actually be all right, before scaling the nearby fire escape in leaps and bounds until he disappeared in shadow. You took a moment to collect yourself before stepping out into the warm light of a streetlamp. You hesitantly made your way home, skittish and jumping at every little noise. You sighed a breath of relief when the deadbolt of your front door finally slid closed.

Even though you were on the fifth floor, you went around your apartment, checking that every window was locked and secured. You pulled the blinds closed for good measure. You froze when you spotted a figure crouched on the fire escape across the street, but smiled as you realized it was the masked man, seeing you safely home. Despite the evening’s events, you felt safe knowing the masked man was protecting the city.

You spotted the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen several more times over the next few weeks. You would catch glimpses of him on your walk home, spot him in shadows from out your window, heard the stories of those he saved. It was comforting, knowing he was out there. You didn’t think his persistent presence would one day turn against you.

You awoke in the middle of the night to a noise in your apartment. You laid still, ears searching for another sound. You relaxed when you heard none after a few minutes. Maybe your neighbor just dropped something, you thought. You closed your eyes and tried to fall back asleep. You tensed again at the sound of fabric rustling, realizing after a moment it was just your window curtains in the breeze. What had you so jumpy tonight? You had seen the masked man just this evening, keeping watch over the block. You knew nothing was going to happen…

You were nearly asleep when a hand clamped over your mouth and nose.

You were dazed and confused when your eyes finally fluttered open. You weren’t in your bed—had you fallen asleep working at the kitchen table again? You moved to stretch your arms and back, but something tugged tight at your wrists. You glanced down with groggy eyes to find a neatly knotted rope around each arm. You kicked your legs to find that they were similarly bound.

In an instant, your sleepy mind flashed to full clarity.

Not good. This was definitely not good.

Your eyes focused just ahead of you. Across a small wooden table was a well-dressed man with dark hair. He was sitting casually, almost lazily, with one leg draped across the arm of his chair. He was twirling a knife idly in his right hand and barely glanced at you when he spoke. “Finally awake?”

“Where am I?” you responded, giving another futile tug to your bindings.

“New York City,” the man deadpanned. You nearly rolled your eyes—you could’ve figured that one out yourself. The sounds were distant, muffled, but you could still make out the sound of the hustle and bustle of the busy city. You couldn’t exactly tell which borough you had been brought to, but you knew you weren’t in a residential area. The room you were in was big with tall ceilings, dim construction lights, and no windows aside from darkened skylights on the roof. An abandoned factory. A warehouse, maybe.

Well, isn’t that just a bit cliché.

You shivered as a draft eased over your skin. The building certainly didn’t have central AC—you were freezing in the thin pajamas you had been kidnapped it.

Kidnapped.

You had just been kidnapped. Why this was only registering now, you weren’t sure. You fought the panic rising in your chest. Hyperventilating now would be no good and you didn’t want to know what would happen if you passed out. A count of five to control your breathing, then: “What do you want from me?”

“It’s not you we want, sweetheart.” He rose from his seat, straightening his suit jacked and adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves. He slowly stepped around the table and you couldn’t help but be reminded of a jaguar stalking its prey. You tensed when he disappeared behind you, but he was only gone for a moment before tossing several issues of the Bulletin across the table. “It’s him.”

You cautioned a closer look at the papers in front of you. Featured on each page was a different grainy photo of the man in the mask, Daredevil, whatever they were calling him these days. “I don’t—I don’t know him.”

“You don’t?” The man—your kidnapper—pulled out a few photographs, placing them slowly in front of you. The first was of you and Daredevil walking side by side. It was taken shortly after he had saved you from that alley, you realized, when he escorted you home. The second was a picture of the fire escape landing just outside your window. You were leaning out the window, handing him a bottle of water—the defender of Hell’s Kitchen needed to be hydrated, right? But glancing at the third picture, you were unsure of what it had to do with you. Until you realized it was of him kneeling on the rooftop of the building across from yours.

“We’ve been trying to track him down,” your kidnapper continued, “as he’s been interfering with several…business ventures of ours. He’s been very hard to locate. Fortunately for us, your apartment is one of his more…frequented locations. We just want to know who he is. Then we might be able to…set you free.”

“But I don’t know him!” you insisted again.

Your kidnapper retrieved a knife from his pocket, sliding the flat of it up the side of your arm. “It would be easier on the both of us if you just told me his name.”

“It would be easier if you’d just listen! I don’t know—” Your words abruptly cut off as the man slid the point of the knife against your thigh—not deep, but enough to slice through your pant leg and draw a thin line of blood. You could almost laugh. You were expecting much, much worse. “That’s the best you could do? I’ve had paper cuts worse—”

Your eyes widened. Why were you mouthing off at a time like this? Why would you say that? Stupid, stupid, stupid… In a flash, the man’s palm struck across your cheek, turning your head sideways. You tasted blood. Your lip was split. Fantastic.

“I just need a name.”

“I don’t have one!”

“Then let’s just hope he finds you in time.”

“What? No, please, please!” you shouted as his fist collided with your temple.

It was a slow night for Matt. He hadn’t stumbled across any emergencies needing his assistance nor could he hear any in the surrounding area. The night was almost too slow, it seemed. Without anything to do, he jogged across rooftops until he reached your apartment building. He always told himself it was just part of his nightly sweep of the neighborhood, but deep down, he knew it was more than that.

It had been weeks since you’d talked to him—well, talked to him as Matt, that is. You had been his best friend for nearly two decades now. It pained him every day the two of you didn’t talk.

But it wasn’t like he didn’t understand.

He rejected you. He probably broke your heart and, to top it all off, he was hiding a huge secret from you! He understood why you were giving him the silent treatment—he’d probably do the same if the roles were reversed—but he was thankful he could still at least check on you every day, even if it was as the Daredevil. He just wished you wouldn���t take it out on Foggy, too.

Foggy was torn, to say the least. He hated to see his two best friends apart like this and hated knowing he had contributed to it in some way. He wanted to tell you Matt’s secret, he really did! But he couldn’t. He desperately wanted to tell you so you could talk some sense into Matt, get him off the streets every night, but he couldn’t betray Matt’s trust like that. Even as much as he wanted to. He’d tell Matt as much, but things were already tense between them as they were.

Shaking his thoughts aside, Matt stepped gently onto your fire escape. He first noticed the cool air seeping out the window to your apartment. How many times would he have to remind you to lock it? He made three quick raps against the pane, alerting you to his presence. He waited for you to answer, but you never showed. He turned his attention away from the city and directed it to the inside of your apartment. But…he couldn’t hear you.

He could hear the loud thumping of the heartbeat of your upstairs neighbor and the quieter beats of her two cats but not you. He slid your window open wider and slipped into the space of your kitchen. The air was still. You hadn’t been here in a few hours. Dread pooled deep in his stomach.

Matt pulled his phone out of his pocket. Normally, he left it behind, but part of him hoped you would end your silent treatment one of these nights. Whatever the reason, he was thankful he had it. He just had to assure himself that you were okay—perhaps you’d gone to the store or out to a movie with a friend. He quickly dialed your number, paling when he heard your phone buzz on your bedside table. He hung up. Foggy’s number was next.

“Matt?” Foggy asked groggily, disoriented from waking up and confused that Matt was actually calling him.

“Have you heard from Y/N?” Matt asked quickly.

“No. Why? What’s going on?”

“Nothing. I just…stopped by her apartment and she’s not here. She’s not answering her phone.”

“I’m sure she’s fine. She’s probably at a friend’s place. Asleep. Like we should be.”

“Yeah. Goodnight.” Matt ended the call, nearly throwing the phone across the room in frustration. Something wasn’t right about this. He paced across your apartment, freezing when he caught the scent of…cologne? His heart dropped a little. Maybe you found somebody to replace—

His mind made the connection. That was the same cologne as one of the crime bosses he’d been following.

This time, he did throw his phone across the room.

You realized at some point you’d gone unconscious. You awoke to a throbbing in your skull and sharp pains across your abdomen. You couldn’t feel the rest of your body, but you generally felt like you had been hit by a truck. The taste of blood was heavy on your tongue. You pried your eyes open, but everything was blurry. Was one of your eyes swollen shut or just could you not see from the pain in your head? You pried your eyes open further and winced. Swollen. Your eye was definitely swollen.

You couldn’t catalogue any other specific injuries. All the pain swelled together, indistinguishable from one another. You thought maybe a finger was broken, but you couldn’t tell for sure. It definitely hurt every time you tried to flex your hand, though. You also realized deep breaths were something to steer clear from.

Your captor noticed your movements and stepped into your field of vision, leaning against the table in front of you. “Back, are we?” he asked. He casually bumped your knee with his, almost affectionately. You hissed from the pain the movement caused.

“Didn’t…didn’t think I could leave,” you wheezed. You’d certainly begged for it earlier. But your kidnapper made it clear the Devil arriving would be your only hope. Your kidnapper…you really needed to give him a name.

“Not yet.” Your captor—Zane. Yeah, let’s call him Zane—picked up a knife from behind him and twirled it in the air. You tensed, waiting for the pain to come, but he just continued to stare at you.

“Okay, listen,” you begged. “I’m weak. I’m weak, I know I am. I’m weak to torture. If I knew anything, it’d have spilled already. You’re good—you’re good at what you do, but I don’t have anything—”

“Flattery gets you nowhere. Besides, that isn’t even the goal anymore.” A glint from the knife was your only warning before it was embedded in your thigh. You screamed, begging, pleading, that your hero would find you.

Your bloodcurdling scream sent ice down Matt’s spine.

He had been poised outside the warehouse, waiting, listening, trying to find the best course of action to rescue you. But that sound had him throwing caution to the wind. He dove through the nearest window.

Three men were in this hallway. Matt dodged a bullet one of the men fired before ripping the gun out of his hands. A solid strike from the butt of the gun rendered the man unconscious and Matt turned to face the other two. His mind turned to autopilot as he incapacitated his enemies. Every move was instinctual, every hit uncaring.

At last, he found where you were being held in the center of the building. He tensed as he stepped into the room, hands raising in a sign of no harm. You were being held at gunpoint. Every step he took pressed the gun tighter into your temple, so he froze, thirty feet away from you.

Tears were streaming down your face. You knew a gun was being held to your head, but you weren’t conscious of much more than that and the knife still hilt-deep in your leg. Ringing in your ears drowned out all other sound. You weren’t sure how the Daredevil made it across the room or took down Zane, but you instinctively reacted when hands pressed down on your shoulders.

“No, please, stop!” you begged. “I don’t know who he is, I swear.”

Slowly, your senses came back to you. “Hey, it’s me. Calm down,” you heard. Your eyes fluttered open. The masked man blearily came into focus. You wished you knew what he looked like. He’d probably have such gorgeous eyes… “Y/N, hey.” A hand tapped the side of your face. “I need you to stay awake, okay? I’m gonna get you some help.”

“My eyes closed?” you mumbled. You were trying to stay awake, but your eyes had plans of their own.

“Yeah, they did.” He knelt down to untie the rope around your wrists and ankles. Once free, he tucked an arm under your knees and behind your low back. “This is going to hurt. I’m sorry.” On a count of three, he lifted you into his arms and you were out like a light.

 You groaned some time later as you were laid gently on what you thought to be a couch. You couldn’t tell where you were—higher thinking was on the backburner currently. The pain quickly erased any thought that came into your mind. You fought to open your eyes, though. You had to know if you were safe.

You were in a small apartment, on a living room couch like you originally thought. An expansive first aid kit was spread on the coffee table next to you. Several of the tools were bloodied; several packages were ripped open. You raised your eyes higher to find a woman and a man having a heated discussion. The man you knew—it was the Daredevil. You could tell even though his back was turned. The woman, though…you weren’t sure her identity. She wore blue, bloodied gloves and the ears of a stethoscope were around her neck. You caught the last of her argument.

“She needs a hospital, Matt. Only surgeons are qualified to remove impaled objects. And I, as good as I am at stitching you up, am not a surgeon.”

You thought hard to make sense of the words. Who needed a hospital? And wait… “Matt?” you croaked. She said Matt? Daredevil instinctively turned at the sound of your voice and you gasped at what you saw. His mask had been removed. You met the eyes of your best friend. Matt Murdock. “What? It’s you?” Matt sighed and ran a hand over his face. Fuck. This was everything he was trying to avoid. “This was why you had those bruises?” He nodded. “Foggy knows?” He nodded again. This was too much for you to wrap your head around.

Matt knelt by your head and took one of your hands in his. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry. This is why I couldn’t tell you, why we couldn’t be together. I knew someone was going to use you to get to me. It’s all my fault—”

You stopped his tirade with a whisper of his name. “Matt, it’s not your fault.” You reached up to wipe a smear of blood off his cheek. You weren’t even sure who it belonged to—you, him, or one of your kidnappers. “It’s not your fault. We’ll talk about this later. Right now I’m in a lot of pain and getting a lot of blood on a stranger’s couch. I need to know what the plan is.”

Matt turned to the woman and then sighed. “This is my friend Claire. She’s a nurse at Metro General. She’s going to take you to the hospital, okay?”

Matt moved to stand, but you gripped his arm. “You’re not going?”

“I’ll meet you there as soon as I can. I have to change clothes first. I can’t show up looking like this.” He gestured broadly to his bloodied suit. Your grip tightened. You didn’t want him to leave you. “I trust Claire with my life. She’s safe.”

You slowly loosened your grip. “Be fast,” you whispered. Matt nodded.

He and Claire loaded you into the passenger seat of her car. Matt pressed a kiss into your temple before closing the door behind you. Soon, the car was moving and you bared your teeth through the pain each turn and bump caused. Claire was a constant stream of “sorry.” You fought with everything you had to stay awake, but with the adrenaline gone, you felt every injury at full volume. But one ginormous pothole was all it took for your strength to shatter.

You groaned as you came to. Your eyes fluttered against the bright lights, but once they adjusted, you found you were in a hospital room. “I want to stop waking up in random places,” you whined. This was the third strange place you had woken up in since…however long it was since you were last at your apartment. A calendar on the wall said it was Sunday. So, two days.

Matt startled awake at the sound of your voice. You glanced over at him. He’d been trying to sleep in one of those uncomfortable hospital chairs. He had dark circles under his eyes, worse than usual. Had he been here this whole time? “You look like shit, Matt,” you said.

“Y/N, I—” he started, but you cut him off.

“You don’t have to apologize. I understand now, I do.” Matt slid his chair across the floor until he was right by your side. You reached down to take his hand.

“But if I—”

“There’s a million things both of us could have done differently to not end up right where we are. The blame’s not all on you, Matt.”

He was silent for a few moments. He pressed the back of your hand against his lips as he thought. “How are you not mad at me?” he eventually asked.

“They got me on the good drugs right now, I think. But once they release me…ooh, you’re in for it.” You squeezed his hand, smiling.

“Yeah?” He returned your smile.

“Yeah.” You sat quietly for a few moments, your heart monitor filling in the easy silence. “So are you really blind? Or is that something to throw off people from finding out your secret identity?”

“You think I’ve had an alter ego since I was ten?” he laughed.

“You never know,” you shrugged. You burrowed deeper into your pillows. “I think I’m going to take a nap now. Will you stay?”

“Always.”

You were nearly asleep when you had to murmur one last thought. “I love you, Matt.”

“I love you too.”

[bloodgulchblog]

ALRIGHT I FINISHED WITH HALO: BLOOD LINE.

(This post, naturally, contains spoilers for the twist in a 13 year old comic run. If that’s a problem, avert yon eyes.)

The first and most obvious thing I have to say about Blood Line is that the artwork is excellent. It’s not just serviceable, it’s dynamic and colorful and fun and I love it. The artist was Francis Portela, who did it from pencils to inks to colors, and I’m very impressed.

Look at this!!!

If you want to see someone drawing Halo 3 era armor really well (looking at you, my RvBs) there’s a lot to look at in Blood Line.

Plotwise, the story tells us that it’s not about war, or survival. It’s about family. What’s going on here is that Black Team (Black One, fearless leader; Black Two, the curious intel one; Black Three, rowdy heavy weapons guy; and Black Four, the cool-headed sniper) and a smart AI (Iona) have been shipwrecked due to a mysterious alien attack. So has a Covenant team: a Sangheili shipmaster and his younger brother, as well as a gaggle of Grunts and a pair of Hunters.

When Black One and the Shipmaster’s brother are both captured by a Monitor’s Weird Forerunner Bullshit™, the Spartans and the Covenant team up to go get their friends back.

The teamup is fun because not only is absolutely nobody happy about it, but it also highlights a little of the similarity between Spartans and Sangheili (which I’ve been all about since pretty much forever.)

Plus I just really like this little bit where Thon finds out that the Spartans have been bluffing about having ammo left when they super do not, so he gives Black Four a gun. (Three is fine, he ripped one out of a Sentinel.) This actually takes place a little before the last image I posted but w/e.

Speaking of Four and Three, the story on the Spartan end is heavy on them. (I personally miss Two, who was my favorite in the short story with Black Team that we had in Evolutions. She isn’t in the comic much.)

There’s tension between Three and Four because once upon a time when they were kids, they both had a crush on the same girl: One. This is, of course, highly relevant to that second image above. It’s also the section of the plot I’m the most eh about.

As Iona is riding around in Black Four’s armor, she learns that he harbors resentment toward Three. Three caught Four and One making out and reported it. One and Four were brigged for a little to discipline them.

Black Team also had a bitter rivalry with Red Team, which I do not think is any relation to any other iteration of Red Team. During the brig incident, they snuck in and beat the shit out of Four so bad he lost an eye. After that, when Black Team was reunited, they ambushed Red Team and kicked their shit in as revenge. They got brigged for ten days, never spoke of it again, and that was the end of that.

Except.

Except.

The spoiler is that it was not One and Four who had the awkward youthful relationship. It was One and Three. Four was the jealous one.

The one who lost an eye was actually One.

Four has felt so guilty about this for so long that he worked up an alternate version of events in his head. Meanwhile, the Monitor is hacking his armor to fuck with his perceptions and convince him to attack Three.

Eventually, though, One and the Shipmaster’s brother breach containment, there is a lot of shooting, and One figures out something important.

On a related note, I really love how many panels they do where they flip between the Spartans in the current day and the Spartans how they looked as unarmored trainees in the same postures. Really nailing that childhood trauma.

The Covenant don’t make it out of this one, as a contrast for how Black Team pulls their shit together. Reff thinks he can take control of the Forerunner installation and become a new Prophet of his own Great Journey, and starts shooting down the Covenant fleet that was coming to claim this prize. Thon tries to kill him (which sucks because Thon always protected his brother when they were kids), Reff kills him instead, and then the Monitor comes back for the grudge match and kills Reff. Reunited Black Team takes down the Monitor, and then prepares to head out and try to find a wrecked Covenant ship they can steal to get home.

OVERALL, I think this one was great. I’m not particularly objective about the relationship drama because I always find love triangle shit really boring and I’m especially eyeroll about it with Spartan-IIs, but I can handle it because the issue isn’t actually romantic tension anymore as the group has grown up. The sibling vibes in this one are very strong. What’s important here is Black Four’s guilt about what he did and how it lost Black One her eye, not an ongoing love triangle thing.

Unfortunately, I also know this is the last we really get of these characters. They are killed off mostly offscreen in a Halo 4 era comic, and I think that’s a shame.

GOOD NEWS, THOUGH: I’m done with Halo comics until I get back to a couple more years into the canon, and they are eventful years.

BAD NEWS: Those years contain a lot of Karen Traviss.