#sorry this got so long but hhhh plants

[granny-core]

Inspired by Héléne, can you tell us about your gardening? What do you prioritize and how do you go about making choices? ♥️ Alicia in the US (Iowa)

Yesss!💖💖💖 I could talk about gardening for ages, hahaha! I'm sorry if this is more information than you asked for.

Two things that very much affect my priorities are space limitations, and the cold Norwegian climate. Another thing is that I personally care more about maximizing the amount of food I get to harvest, than I do about the aesthetics. This means I usually go for cold hardy vegetables that will tolerate a short growing season and don't take up too much space, and don't grow flowers that aren't edible. This garden came with a lilac hedge surrounding it though, so that's a bonus!

The space I have available is greatly limited by the fact that I don't own my home, so all changes I do to the garden have to be at least somewhat reversible for future tenants. I currently have three raised beds, as well as lots and lots of large pots, haha. My biggest priorities are potatoes and carrots (super easy to grow in this climate, nourishing, and makes for a pretty good amount of food in a small space), as well as tomatoes (because I really like them). I usually go with early micro-dwarf cherry varieties in pots, because they grow quickly and will have time to ripen before it gets too cold. I can also carry them back inside if some days are colder in spring. Aside from my staples, I like to try something new every year, like daikon, bell peppers, sugar snap peas, strawberries, pumpkins, etc. I do have IBS though, so I try not to grow veggies that I can't really eat, like beans, onions and garlic haha. I tend to keep some fresh herbs too, but the cold and wet summers here make some of them quite hard to grow, so I stick to stuff like chives and parsley.

I also grow some edible flowers, mostly for fun. Violas and pansies are my favourites, and I usually end up growing way more of them than I should. I also like to have some dwarf sunflowers around.

If I am able to afford buying a home, I would like to plant raspberries, blackcurrants and redcurrants as well. Most Nordic gardens have them because they are super easy to grow, stay forever with little to no care, and produce lots and lots of berries no matter how awful the summer weather gets, hahaha!

Summing things up, I prioritize veggies that I know I like, that tolerate the climate, and that don't take up too much space. I also try to save some money on seeds by collecting my own!

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Protector

Prompt: if prompts are still open: virgil as an adventurer who keeps accidentally befriending the monsters he’s supposed to be fighting (aka the other sides)? have a wonderful day! (and don’t feel any pressure to do this at all, and if your inbox is meant to be closed absolutely delete this ask)

Thanks for the prompt, babe!

Read on Ao3

Warnings: sympathetic remus & deceit, some ptsd flashbacks but nothing super explicit

Pairings: LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR, can be platonic or romantic but Virgil’s definitely got some gay panic in there

Word Count: 8153

 Virgil’s got a simple code when he’s not on a hunt. Don’t hurt whatever you don’t absolutely have to, and odds are, it won’t hurt you. Now and then there’s a bit of an, um, incident where that doesn’t quite work out as well as they’d hoped, but by and large they get by.

Or: 5 times Virgil helps a monster he was supposed to kill, and 1 time the monsters help him

He sighs as he walks outside, grabbing the pair of gloves from the rickety tray and tugging them over his weathered hands. The front garden isn’t nearly as overgrown as it was when he found this little cabin in the middle of nowhere, but it’s got a long way to go before he can walk through without tripping over at least one overgrown bramble.

 There’s a very persistent mint plant that’s slowly and surely trying to choke the flowers. Virgil bends down and starts to toil in the dirt.

 “Come on,” he mutters, because he’s allowed to talk to plants when no one else is listening, “let’s stop doing that, you don’t have to be literally everywhere…”

 The mint doesn’t protest verbally, because it’s a plant and plants can’t talk, but Virgil would swear it tries to hold onto the dirt as he pulls it up, holding his hand under the roots to catch the dirt.

 “Alright, come on out, then, let’s just…put you in here.”

 There’s a plot of dirt in a crate resting at his knee. He pats the soil. Fresh enough. The mint plant looks almost contrite as he tucks it into the corner.

 “Next time I go see the townspeople I’m sure you’ll make some tea-shop owner very happy.”

 The rest of the garden goes similarly. By the end, he’s filled the crate almost halfway when his hand catches something sharp.

  The blade gleams as it flashes through the air. The child screams. His eyes widen—

 “No,” he grits out, flattening his hands into the dirt, “no, it’s…it’s okay. We’re okay. It’s…hhhh.”

 As he exhales, his shoulders slump, head bowing almost to his chest. The sounds of blades swinging through the air fade as the breeze rustles the leaves surrounding the cabin. The faint smell of mint cleanses his nose of blood.

 Virgil opens his eyes and carefully moves his hand away from the rose.

 “When’d you get here,” he mutters, carefully lifting the leaves to examine the stem, “don’t remember seeing you.”

 The thorns snag on the little pieces of dirt hanging from his gloves. He glances around. There aren’t any other roses nearby, not that he can see. And it’s probably not very good for it to be growing in the middle of this choked soil patch.

 He stands and makes his way back for the sharper trowel.

 Something hisses.

 His grip on the trowel doesn’t waver but he turns his head casually to glance over his shoulder.

 Something crouches in the garden, just barely visible over the crate. A tuft of hair, not dark enough to be a bear cub, not light enough to be a squirrel. His arm relaxes against his side, trowel snug against his thigh.

 “Hello,” he calls, watching closely, “is someone there?”

 He blinks in surprise when a cat pokes its head over the crate.

 “Uh, hey, there,” he manages, “uh…what’re you doing all the way out here?”

 In response, the cat leaps elegantly over the crate. It’s a slim thing, but not underweight. Its fur is bluish-gray, almost like a stormcloud. As Virgil watches, the cat sneezes and its fur turns a dappled brown.

 Virgil sighs. “So you’re the mischievous sprite I’ve been told to get rid of.”

 The neighboring village has tried several times to make him seek and destroy the sprite’s nest. Apparently, it’s been causing all sorts of problems. Books going missing, glasses breaking in the middle of the night, jars of preserves broken into. Now, that’s not really what Virgil calls a punishable offense, but the villagers were insistent that he find it and fight it. He’s done one of those things.

 Well, technically, the sprite found him.

 “There’s not much here that would interest you,” Virgil says, gesturing at the unkempt garden, “but if you want to tell me what you do want, then—hey!”

 The sprite, of course, doesn’t wait for him to actually finish inviting it inside. Instead, the door creaks as the cat darts between his legs and vanishes.

 “Be careful,” he warns, “there are sharp things.”

 He pushes open the door to see the cat perched on a precariously high shelf, sniffing at the books. He sighs.

 “I can get those down if you want, it might be easier than doing whatever the hell it is you’re doing now.”

 The cat ignores him, pawing at the thick leather cover. He sighs and pulls off his gloves.

 “Alright, just—wait a damn minute.”

 Virgil grunts as he lifts the book of the shelf and carries it over to the table, opening it and waiting. The cat jumps up onto the table and sniffs at the pages. Its tongue laps at a word.

 “You want more about that? Okay, let’s just—“

 Yes, Virgil is talking to this sprite. He’s allowed to do that in his own home.

 He turns the pages until the cat chirps.

 “This? This what you want?”

 The sprite stares at the page. It goes unnaturally still.

 The hairs on the back of Virgil’s neck stand up.

 Then it breaks; the cat shakes itself off and jumps down.

 “That’s it? You done now?”

 The cat’s tail twitches gracefully as it struts back to the door. Virgil rolls his eyes and follows it out.

 “Well, I’m glad I could be of service,” he mutters as he closes the door.

 Something rough touches his hand. He looks down. The sprite looks back up at him and licks his hand again.

 “…you’re welcome.”

 The cat sneezes, its fur changing back into the deep bluish-gray. Without another look, it takes off, leaping effortlessly over the crate and disappearing into the woods.

 Well, stranger things have happened in Virgil’s life.

 Shaking his head, he gets back to his garden. He glances at the rose before deciding that, eh, what the hell, it can stay another day. He finishes filling the mint crate and sets it near the front door, ready for his trip to the village tomorrow.

 “Ah, thank you!” The tea shop owner beams as he hands it over. “I’m sure this’ll be plenty.”

 “I’ve got more than enough, I promise.”

 “Well, since that sprite disappeared, I won’t be running out nearly as often!”

 Virgil blinks. “Huh?”

 “Oh, the sprite you got rid of!” She smiles. “Thank you kindly for that, it was ever so pesky.”

 Virgil just nods.

 ————————————

Virgil opens his eyes and doesn’t quite reach for the dagger he keeps in the nightstand but it’s close.

 “There’s a dog in my bed,” he mutters, “standing on top of me, drooling on my face.”

 The dog just barks. And changes color.

 He sighs. “Are you the same one from last time? Was the book not enough for you?”

 The dog barks again, jumping off the bed and trotting to the kitchen, its nail clicking on the floor. Virgil lets his eyes close for a second before getting up and following it.

 “Alright, the book it—whoa.”

 The dog is, um. Not a sprite.

 A huge mastiff elemental sits in the middle of his kitchen. It looks up from when it was nosing at what remained of a chicken carcass and rumbles. Virgil raises his hands.

 “I’m not going to hurt you,” he says lowly, “even though you did break into my house and wake me up. What do you want?”

 The elemental turns and moves through the house, out toward the woods. Virgil stuffs his feet in his boots and follows, tucking a slingshot and his knife into his pockets as he goes. The elemental moves through the trees with an inhuman grace, the very edges of the leaves it passes smoldering. A thin tendril of smoke wafts past Virgil’s nose.

  “She’s still inside!” The guard shouts as Virgil wrenches his arm away. “I have to go get her!”

  “Sir, you’ll die!”

  “She’s still—“

  The top of the house crashes down as—

 Virgil closes his eyes and brings his kerchief up to his nose. He breathes deeply. Freshly baked bread. Honeysuckle. The slightly tacky smell of leather oil. Breathe in, breathe out.

 When he opens his eyes again, the elemental has paused, glancing back at him.

 “I’m coming,” he says quickly, “I’m coming. Keep going.”

 He shrugs the old ghosts off his shoulders and follows.

 The elemental leads him to a clearing. Underneath a large, dead white tree, there’s a small den of moss. Virgil’s breath catches in his throat.

 The villagers had sent him a warning about a curse in the area. Fires had been going out. It had been impossible to keep warmth in the houses over the long winter nights. They’d been seeing figures in the smoke, sightings of, well, a mastiff. They’d contacted him to try and get it to leave.

 Well, the mastiff elemental is here, under the tree, looking back and forth between Virgil and something he can’t see, buried in the moss.

 “Is there something you wanna show me,” he asks softly, coming a little further into the clearing, “in there?”

 The elemental whines. He walks forward until he catches sight of a stone in the middle of the bed of moss. It’s cracked in two.

 “Is this what you wanted to show me,” he calls, shifting into a crouch, “this stone?”

 The elemental huffs, nudging his hand. It reaches past him and tries to pick up the stone in its mouth, only for it to drop. It puts its nose down and whines.

 “…was this your favorite stone to play with?” The elemental butts its head against his shoulder. “I’m sorry it broke. How’d it happen?”

 The elemental points its nose toward a jagged boulder in the corner of the clearing.

 “Ah, I see.”

 And you know what? Yeah, Virgil gets it. He’s dropped shit where he shouldn’t have dropped it before and it broke. What does it matter that this elemental is so upset over accidentally breaking its favorite toy that its warmth is so low the nearby villagers think it’s a curse?

 “Hey,” Virgil murmurs, reaching out to cup the two halves of the rock in his hands, “it’s okay. This rock—good choice by the way, very good choice—it’s part of the Perse Mountains, right? So it’s susceptible to fire magic.”

 He reaches into his slingshot bag and pulls out two small rocks. Using one on either side, he sandwiches the two halves of the broken rock together and holds it out to the elemental.

 “Now breath on it.”

 The elemental exhales carefully, bathing the rock in a steady stream of fire. Sure enough, in a few moments, thanks to Virgil holding it steady, the rock glows a soft yellow and reforges.

 “That’s good.” He takes it carefully between the stones and rolls it around the moss, trying to cool it. “Okay. Try now.”

 The elemental takes the rock gingerly between its teeth and yips.

 Virgil chuckles. “I’m glad I could help.”

 The elemental spins in a circle before turning back into the dog and licking Virgil’s cheek, barking excitedly.

 “Okay, okay, you’re welcome, jeez.” He half-heartedly shoves the dog’s head away. “You’re getting slobber all over me!”

 The dog pulls away and takes the rock into its mouth again, snuffling happily. Virgil shakes his head and gets up.

 “If that’s all, then I’m gonna go home.” The dog licks his hand one more time. “Yeah, yeah, okay.”

 And if a fire is already burning when he gets back home, well, that’s just a surefire way to know there was never a curse for the villagers to worry about.

 Get it? Surefire?

 Shut up, he’s hilarious.

 ————————————

“Ah, Virgil!”

 Virgil turns. The blacksmith waves at him from the market stalls. Dodging fruit carts and weaving his way through passers-by, he stops in front of the man and gestures to the new wares.

 “Good season, Anbel?”

 “Oh, the best!” Anbel gestures to the coin chest behind him. “You know how it is, goes in and out of season.”

 Absentmindedly, Virgil rubs at the scars on his arms. “I know the feeling.”

 “Anyways, I got that dagger you gave me to repair.”

 Anbel reaches behind him and pulls the dagger out of a leather bag. He holds it up. The deep gouges in the blade are gone, the handle isn’t tarnished anymore, and it looks…good.

 “Thank you, Anbel,” he says, reaching for it, “so how much?”

 “No charge.”

 “Come on.”

 “No charge,” Anbel repeats, “not for you.”

 Unbidden, a flush rises to his cheeks as he tucks the dagger into his belt. “Anbel…”

 “Alright,” the blacksmith says, holding up his hands, “I’ve got a favor to ask.”

 Virgil sighs. “What’d you do?”

 “Why do you assume that I did something?”

 Virgil just gives him a look.

 “…alright but this time it wasn’t me.”

 “Uh-huh.”

 Anbel smacks his chest. “I’m serious, there’s something wrong in the woods outside of town.”

 Virgil sobers, taking a step closer. “What is it?”

 “Dunno. But my horses won’t go past a particular stretch of land and I need to be able to make the trip next moon.”

 Virgil chews on his lip, thinking. “Did they run away or just refuse to go near?”

 “Refused to go near.” Anbel shakes his head. “Don’t know what’s gotten into them. They’re good mares.”

 “Have any others reported anything?”

 “Cindi had trouble getting through too.”

 “Where is it?”

 “Just before the bend in the river. Near the trees.”

 Virgil sighs. “I’ll have a look.”

 That’s how he finds himself wandering down the main road on the next cloudy day. He glances around to make sure there aren’t any other villagers nearby before he starts looking around. There’s a small grove of trees near the riverbank, a mound of rocks next to the bend in the road, and a rapid system rushing just out of sight.

 Maybe the horses were scared of the rapids? They’ve been known to spook before. But no, Anbel makes this trip every season. If the horses were going to spook at the rapids, they’ve done it before.

 Virgil frowns, coming to a stop in the middle of the grass between the road and the river. What could they’ve been startled by? There’s not enough space to hide anything here. The rocks are on the wrong side of the road. The river isn’t close or loud. And the trees aren’t close enough together to hide anything between them.

 …between them.

 Virgil holds very, very still.

 Out of the corner of his eye, one of the trunks shifts.

 He doesn’t move quickly, doesn’t draw his dagger, just lowers his eyes to the grass and turns, facing the trees, and takes a step backward. Then another. Then another. When he’s over ten yards away, he looks up.

 “I mean you no harm,” he calls, “I have no wish to interfere. I was told that there was something that scared a few horses and wanted to make sure everything was alright.”

 The breeze rustles through the leaves.

 “I am happy to leave you here,” he continues, risking a step closer, “but I know that…this is probably not where you’d like to be. This isn’t an especially damp forest.”

 The trunk shifts again.

 “If there’s something I can do to help—“ he risks another step— “I’d be happy to.”

  There.

 The trunk shifts and seems to shrink inside as a jaculi unwinds itself from around its base. It blinks lazily at him with amber eyes, golden scales rippling in the faint light from the cloudy sky.

 “Hello,” Virgil waves, “can I—will you let me come closer?”

 The jaculi hisses and lays its head near the ground.

 “Thank you.” Virgil walks forward carefully, stopping a few feet away and crouching down. “Now, what brings you here? You look like you’re an awful long way from home.”

 The jaculi hisses again, its head swiveling toward the river. Virgil looks. Across the bank, he can see a much denser forest and what looks like a storm brewing.

 “You’ll be hurt,” he realizes, “if you try and stay here…”

 The jaculi coils tighter around the tree trunk.

 “How’d you get over here,” Virgil mutters, “you’d’ve needed to swim across…and that also won’t go well for you.”

 There’s a soft rustling as the jaculi buries its tail in a pile of leaves near the base of the tree. Virgil glances over to see it rubbing its face halfheartedly against the bark.

 His eyes widen.

 About a month ago there had been a terrible storm. His little cabin had barely held together. He’d heard reports from the tavern owner that it’d blown one of the old trees right over.

 “That’s how you got across,” he murmurs, mostly to himself, “you climbed across the tree. And now it’s gone and you’re stuck.”

 The jaculi blinks remorsefully at him.

 “Okay,” Virgil mutters, “okay, we can…we can figure this out.”

 They’ll have to do it at night. There’s no way the jaculi will feel safe enough to move while it’s still light out. There’s an old barn that never finished construction just over the ridge. One of those timber pieces is probably long enough to get over the river. And he can make a bridge wide enough to support the jaculi’s weight.

 He explains his plan to the jaculi, feeling a little ridiculous, but he’s allowed to explain what he’s doing to help someone, it’s fine, and says that he’ll be back. Promise.

 The landowner gives him a weird look when he asks to borrow the timber.

 “It’s too long for you to do anything with it,” he says, still helping Virgil load it onto a sled, “and much too tough for you to cut by yourself.”

 “It’s fine just the way it is,” Virgil says, “and thank you.”

 He waves Virgil off. “Keep it. You’re doing better than I am with it.”

 Virgil’s back at the river bend by sundown. He can’t see the jaculi anymore—it’s probably hidden itself for safety—but he calls out when he arrives.

 “I’m going to use these to make a bridge for you. It shouldn’t take me too long.”

 The pieces of timber are ungainly, to make a colossal understatement, but Virgil grits his teeth and slides them out of the sled. He wades a little into the river and—

  The water is so cold it burns. He has to keep going. It’s gaining on him. He’ll be safe in the water.

  The growls get closer and his foot slips—

 “No,” he mutters, “no, it’s not that. I’m fine. I’m standing, I’m not hurt, I’m not drowning.”

 He blinks down at his boots, the water swirling around his ankles. The timber in his hands shifts as he breathes. He’s fine. He’s fine.

 “Okay…okay.”

 He grits his teeth again and heaves, bringing the piece of timber with him. He wades further until it’s swirling around his waist. The piece of timber is just long enough to reach the other side. Onto the next one.

 He gets the five of them stretched across the river just as the last of the light vanishes. Panting, he struggles back up onto the side of the river bank and splays out onto his back, eyes closed.

 A low hiss sounds in his ear.

 He just manages to avoid a scream.

 “Hey,” he gasps instead, eyes flickering open to see the jaculi coiled up a few feet away, “uh…please don’t do that.”

 The jaculi just blinks at him.

“Uh…why don’t you, uh…” Virgil holds a hand to his chest, trying to get his breathing back under control. “…try out the bridge?”

 The jaculi slithers closer, flicking its tongue out against the timber. It looks back at Virgil.

 “Go on,” he encourages, “you can do it.”

 It slithers on, testing the boards against its weight.

 Virgil holds his breath until the jaculi vanishes into the trees across the river banks, slipping further and further into the darkness.

 Anbel leaves on his trip the next moon.

 ————————————

Honestly, when the kraken explodes out of Virgil’s well, he just sighs and fetches his bath so he can get the poor thing out.

 “Easy,” he grumbles when the kraken squirms so much he almost drops it, “you may be a young one but you’re still heavy.”

 Panting, he drops the tentacled beast into the full tub, his arms flying up to shield his face from the shower of sparkling drops. Judging by the happy trills and clicks, the kraken likes it in there. He shakes his head.

 “So that’s why I’ve been asked to fight a monster in the sewers,” he muses, watching the kraken’s tentacles writhe giddily in the metal tub, “just how did you end up so far inland?”

 The kraken, of course, does not deign to answer. Instead, the tentacles latch onto the side of the bath and threaten to tip the whole thing over.

 “No, you idiot,” Virgil shouts, grabbing onto the other side and weighing it down. He winces when more water spills onto him, drenching him head to toe. “Now look what you’ve done.”

 What the kraken has done, apparently, is get Virgil close enough so that its tentacles can haul Virgil into the tub.

 “Hey!”

 Virgil spits water out of his mouth, much to the kraken’s delight.

 “That was rude.”

 The kraken just chirps happily and wriggles around. Its tentacles stick to Virgil’s clothes and pull him through the water.

 Virgil’s chest tightens.

 One of the first things they teach you about krakens is never get in the water with them. The second thing they teach you about krakens is do not get in the water with them. The third thing they teach you about krakens is not to get too close to their tentacles so they don’t pull you into the water with them.

 And yeah, this is Virgil’s bathtub, not a river, a tide pool, or the open sea, but you can drown in an inch of water.

 Virgil presses his back up against the rim of the tub. The kraken seems to realize something’s wrong and settles, burbling softly.

 “Hey, bud,” Virgil says shakily, “I, uh, what’re you doing here?”

 The kraken twitches a few tentacles and more water slops over the edge.

 “Right…” Virgil shakes his head. “Okay, well, uh, I would rather not sit here and soak through all of my clothes, so I’m just going to—“

 As soon as he tries to move, the kraken wraps a tentacle around his leg and tugs.

 “Okay, okay, not leaving, not leaving, um—“ Virgil reaches down and takes a handful of the grass. Worst comes to worst, he can tip the tub and get the kraken back in the well.

 The kraken lets go as soon as he settles back in the water. Virgil looks at the creature carefully.

 There’s a mark on its head. Discoloration, probably, but still obvious. As he watches, the kraken burbles to itself and starts making little ripples in the surface of the water with its tentacles. After a moment, it starts gently pushing the water towards Virgil.

 The water laps at Virgil’s knees in little waves, not enough to wet him anymore—not that it would matter at this point—but enough to bounce back and make more patterns. The kraken trills softly and keeps doing it.

 Does it…want to play?

 Slowly, Virgil lifts his hands up and starts to push the water back. The kraken, realizing that Virgil is indeed committing to the idea that he is going to play with this kraken, trills louder and uses more of its tentacles to move the waves bigger.

 “Yeah? Is that how it works?” Virgil moves his hands. “Like that?”

 The kraken chirps.

 He’s not really sure how long they stay there, playing with the water, but it’s long enough for the sun to go down in the sky and Virgil to get more than a little chilly in the water.

 When the kraken notices that the water is rippling more around Virgil and he’s not moving his hands any faster, it wraps a tentacle around his ankle and tugs.

 “What? You tired?” The kraken leans its head against the side of the tub. “Okay. Well, I don’t know how long you can stay in here—“

 He cuts himself off when the kraken jabs a tentacle toward the well.

 “You wanna go back in there? It’s so small and cramped, and the sewers in town aren’t much better.”

 The kraken insists.

 Sure. Why not.

 Virgil grunts as he lifts the kraken back into the bucket, carefully lowering the creature down into the well. He hears one more trill before splashing sounds indicate that the creature is gone.

 Funnily enough, reports of the sewer beast vanish overnight.

 When Virgil wakes up panting from a nightmare of ropes around his neck, the glass of water on his bedside table is perfectly cold.

 ————————————

Virgil curses as the sole of his boot slips. He just manages to catch himself against the cliffside before splitting his knee on a harsh spire of rock. Gritting his teeth, he forces himself onward.

 The cliffs frown over him as he makes his way up the pass. The rocks crumble threateningly as his boots crunch, crunch, crunch. The sword on his hip feels too heavy. He curses, tugging his glove the rest of the way onto his hand.

 He never was one for dragon hunts.

 The message came in a week ago. Some poor terrified soul had come screaming into the town, ranting about dragons, missing people, curses, the whole lot. Virgil had taken up the call and set off, promising to get to the bottom of it.

 He never promised to hurt anything.

 Thunder rolls ominously in the distance and he bites back another curse. There’s a cave up ahead, he can see it just over the next ridge, he’ll rest there.

 In all honesty—and he can be honest, now there’s no one else around—he hates these kinds of missions. Finding something is one thing. Going to get something is one thing. Rescuing someone is one thing.

 This feels like something else.

 There’s something in his boot. There’s a wrinkle in the thinnest shirt he’s wearing. The sword belt is digging into his hip. The voices in his head won’t shut the fuck up.

 The cave is right there.

 He all but collapses to his knees as soon as he makes it inside, just as the first drops of rain land on the back of his armor. He breathes a sigh of relief, heading further into the cave, into the safety, out of the storm.

 It’s quiet here.

 He takes the knife out of its loop on his belt and sets about setting up a fire. There’s a reasonable stash of dry wood here, probably enough to keep him going throughout the night. He makes a small bundle and lights it, blowing on it until it catches and burns merrily.

 Shrugging off his pack, he leans it up against the wall and starts to dig out the dried meat. He tears off a long strip with his teeth and chews slowly, staring into the flames.

 There’s something nice about fire. Not all fire—he’s got the burns to prove that—but this fire. Controlled fire. He sits back on his hands, brushing aside the eggshells to lean against the cave wall.

 Controlled fire is…justified chaos. It’s strange, to think of chaos as being justified. But that’s what it is. A controlled burn. Snapping and sparking amidst a small mound of wood, warm. Safe. It’s strange to think of fire as safe, too.

 Virgil sits back, finishing off his meal and closing his eyes. The fire is very, very warm. Much warmer than he would expect for just a small campfire. And a little irregular, too. It comes in waves, pants, almost.

 …wood, eggshells…

 Okay, look.

 Look.

 Virgil’s tired, okay?

 It’s not like this is what normally happens to him on hunts.

 He knows what he’s doing.

 He does!

 It’s fine.

 This is fine.

 This is so utterly fine right now.

 But…okay, yeah, maybe Virgil’s not been paying as much attention as he should be. And maybe he’s fighting down a panic attack right now. And maybe he’s frozen in fear to the floor of this cave and not sure how he’s survived this long.

 Whatever.

 Virgil cracks an eye open.

 “…hey, there, dragon.”

 Surprisingly enough, his head does not get immediately bitten off. Instead, the dragon looks at him, nostrils puffing hot air into his face. The smell of dank cavern air mixes with what Virgil really hopes isn’t decomposing human.

 “Um…fancy seeing you here?”

 The dragon huffs louder, still staring into Virgil’s soul. He risks a glance over its shoulder to make sure that yes, this is the only dragon in this cave, there aren’t suddenly going to be five of them. He spies the scales trailing further into the darkness, muscular legs, long, powerful tail. The dragon growls, snapping his eyes back.

 “Hey, uh—didn’t mean to invade your cave.” Virgil scoots backward. “That was absolutely my fault. I can, uh—well, I can’t really promise to leave you alone, but I, uh…rain check?”

 As if on cue, thunder booms from outside.

  Shit.

 A lower growl sounds from the dragon as its mouth curls up. Wow, those teeth are long…

 “Can you, uh—so I know that this is a pretty big request, considering I just, you know, invaded your cave, but uh—maybe don’t eat me?”

 Judging by the growl, that’s a no.

 “Okay, I, uh—“ Virgil risks a glance around. His fire is still burning. Maybe he can at least get the dragon to back up before he—

 He pauses.

 Near the fire, the dragon’s leg looks…wet. Its scales are stained with a dark splotch coming from somewhere higher up. As he watches, the dragon shifts its weight and it gets wetter.

 “You’re hurt,” he says softly, “you’re—oh, god, you’re hurt.”

 He looks back up. The dragon’s snarl doesn’t quite soften, but its mouth relaxes a little.

 “I’ve got salve and bandages in my pack,” he says cautiously, “if you let me get them, I can—I can help?”

 Slowly, ever so slowly, he moves his hand to his pack, keeping the other one raised as he opens the flap and takes out the bottle and the bandages.

 “Can I have a look, please? I’m just gonna…”

 The dragon huffs cautiously as Virgil turns, moving around its body to crouch next to its injured leg. Now that he’s closer, he can see what’s happened.

 A shard of metal is lodged in the soft space between two of the scales. Every time the dragon moves, it shifts, spilling more and more blood. Judging by how loud the dragon is breathing, it must really hurt.

 “You poor thing,” he mutters, “how long has this been here?”

 No response.

 “We gotta get it out,” he says instead, looking for something he can use, “if we leave it in you might get infected, or…something else bad will happen.”

 He pulls a pair of pliers from his pack and the dragon snorts.

 “Easy, easy—“ the dragon’s eyes go wide at the glint of the flame off the metal— “hey, it’s okay, I’m gonna use these to get that metal outta you, yeah?”

 It seems an hour before the dragon calms, gingerly stretching out its leg so Virgil can see the shard. Taking a deep breath, he hooks the pliers around the edge of the metal.

 “Ready on three, okay?” He grits his teeth. “One…two…three!”

 He yanks.

 The dragon roars as the metal shard comes out in his hands, the side release almost sending him toppling back into the fire. Quickly, he discards the tools and reaches out to soothe the dragon, petting its scales and hushing it gently.

 “Shh, shh, it’s out now, it’s okay, it can’t hurt you anymore.” He runs a hand over the dragon’s heaving back. “I’m gonna help you, okay? I’m here to help.”

 It seems to calm the dragon, its breathing slowly but surely calming down as Virgil continues to speak softly to it. Honestly, if it were this easy to calm himself down, he would have a lot fewer problems.

 “I’ve got to clean it,” he says after a minute, “just to make sure you don’t get infected. Then I’ll be done, okay?”

 The dragon swivels its massive head around, looking at the wound, then back at Virgil. It heaves a great sigh and its chin comes to rest on the floor, staring at him. Guess that’s as close to permission as he’s gonna get.

 “Thank you. This, uh, this may sting a bit.”

 He barely gets a flinch as he starts cleaning the cut. Dragons. Once he’s wrapped the dragon’s leg as best he can, he turns to peer at the shard of metal he pulled out of the wound. He holds it up, examining it in the firelight.

 It looks…wrong.

 It’s too thick to be just something that happened to get in there, but too jagged to be something natural. It looks like it snapped off of something, but it’s not the right shape to be an arrowhead or a piece of a building. So what…?

 He turns when the dragon starts to move.

 It heaves itself to its feet, testing out its weight on all four legs. When the pain doesn’t shoot through, it lumbers off, further into the cave. Its head dips down, out of sight for a moment, before it turns and starts back toward the fire, dragging something in its mouth.

 Virgil’s eyes widen when another bag is dropped in front of him.

 “Is this…is this someone else’s?” He lays his fingers carefully on its surface. “Did…did you…did someone else come here before me?”

 The dragon huffs.

 With trembling fingers, he flips open the bag. There’s a good store of meat in here, a change of clothes, something for armor, it’s a provisions bag. One side has a little loop attached with nothing inside.

 “…someone tried to stab you,” he realizes in horror, looking back up at the dragon. “Someone tried to fight you but couldn’t. So they stabbed you in the leg.”

 His fists clench.

 “They hurt you.”

 Another huff. Then the dragon nudges the bag toward him again.

 “Is there something else in here?” Virgil starts sorting through the possessions. He lays the clothes to one side, the bottles to another. When he gets to the food, the dragon leans forward and snorts, blowing hot air into his face.

 “This? This is what you want me to get?” He looks at it. It’s just more dried meat. It, uh, it actually looks a little better than his. “Are you hungry?”

 The dragon snorts at Virgil’s pack, then at the food in his hands.

 “…are you…giving this to me because I’m still hungry?”

 Another huff, longer this time, and the dragon’s head comes to rest on the floor, eyes staring up at him.

 Virgil swallows around the sudden lump in his throat. “Well, that’s—thank you.”

 The dragon rumbles as he starts to eat, eyes blinking lazily. Virgil tries not to mind too much.

 And…honestly? It’s not that bad. He’s had worse audiences when he’s just trying to eat. The dragon switches its tail every now and then, huffing gently to keep the fire going. It’s…nice.

 Virgil finishes eating as much of the food as he wants and tucks the rest away. He takes a moment to just…look.

 “The other person,” he says eventually, “the one that hurt you…they—I think they wanted to kill you.”

 The dragon stares at him like he just said the sky is blue.

 “No, really, I—I don’t think they wanted anything else.” He shakes his head. “We’re not near enough to any villages for that to be the reason, there aren’t any traveling paths through here, there’s…there’s no other reason. I think they just wanted to kill you.”

 The cave falls quiet as the rain pours outside.

 “…I think they wanted me to kill you too.”

 Virgil’s chest aches. Something in his right hand tingles.

“Why do they always want me to kill you?”

 And he’s not just talking about the dragon now.

 It’s always the same.

 Fight this. Kill that. Rescue us from this. Save us from that.

 What if you’re not the ones that need to be saved?

 Virgil lets his chin drop to his chest and sighs. His sword hangs heavy at his hip. His hands tremble in the burning light of the fire.

 “I hate to impose,” he manages through a sluggish tongue, “but…may I stay? Just until the storm passes?”

 A low thud makes him look up. The dragon shifts, its tail curled in a half-circle around Virgil and the fire. It huffs softly.

 “Thank you.”

 ————————————

Sometimes he has sleepless nights. Drifts in blackness and emptiness until it’s time to get up. Or he’ll close his eyes for what feels like an instant before he wakes up the next day.

 Sometimes he has restless nights. Can’t sleep, can’t manage to get more than a few minutes of tense darkness before his eyes shoot open and he has to reassure himself that’s he can sleep.

 Sometimes he has good nights. Dreams of sunshine and warmth and the safety of a hot drink between his palms. Closing his eyes and just hearing the peaceful hum of his cabin.

 Most of the time he has nightmares. The good ones are just mixes of monsters he can’t see coming, kills he wishes he didn’t have to make. Losing someone he should’ve been able to save.

 This one’s a bad one.

  Jaws close down on his arm. The creature whips its head back and forth, shaking him like a rag doll. He grits his teeth and tries to—

  His eyes widen as the burning roof collapses on top of him. A heavy beam falls onto his chest and he can’t move, he’s going to—

  The cliff face collapses under him and he plummets, fingers scrabbling for a hold against the crumbling face. He can’t reach, he can’t reach—

 “….shut up, you’re gonna wake him up!”

 “If you stop shouting, then he won’t.”

 “Shh, the both of you.”

 “This is certainly working, I think we should all keep talking like this.”

 “Oh, don’t you start!”

 “Hey, hey, shh! He’s waking up!”

 Virgil is waking up, as a matter of fact, and he also has no idea where he is or what’s going on. He does know there are at least five people in this room with him though. That’s either a good thing or a really, really bad thing.

 He can feel rocks under his head. Is he still in the cave, then? How other people…here? Where’s the dragon?

 “Hey,” one of the voices says, “are you okay? You kinda, uh, well, you weren’t looking very good for a little bit there.”

 “Back up, you morons, you’re gonna scare him!”

 “We’re not scary, shut up.”

 “You’re scary.”

 “All of you be quiet,” the first voice says, before it softens again. “Hey, can you open your eyes?”

  Well, I’ve definitely made worse decisions.

 He wholeheartedly concurs with that thought when the first thing he sees is genuinely one of the most attractive people he’s ever had the pleasure of meeting face to face.

 “There you are,” the beautiful person says, “good morning. Is your head alright?”

 “Uh—“ not now gay panic— “uh?”

 “Back up, Logan,” another person says, “let me see.”

 Logan—great name, sure, why not—moves out of the way, and oh god there’s two of them.

 “Hi!” The other attractive person leans over Virgil and gods— “are you hurt? You looked a little upset while you were sleeping.”

 “You—“ Virgil does not squeak— “you watched me while I was sleeping?”

 “Well, you fell asleep and Roman got worried, so—“

 “I’m sorry,” Virgil interrupts, “who—who are you?”

 The person in front of him tilts his head. “Don’t you recognize us?”

  I would absolutely fucking remember meeting you, and I do not.

 “Patton,” Logan says, “he’s a mortal. He won’t—we are not as we were when he met us.”

 The butterflies in Virgil’s stomach ice.

 These…these are creatures. Is he—what supernatural force did he piss off?

 Logan smiles at him and winks. First off, rude, but—

 Virgil squints. One of the man’s eyes is a deep bluish-grey. The other one—the one he just winked with—is a dappled brown.

 Oh.

 “…you’re the sprite.”

 “I am,” he says, “my name is Logan.”

 Something nudges his shoulder. Virgil looks over to see Patton offering him a round stone.

 “…the mastiff elemental?”

 “Patton, actually.” Patton smiles and gestures over Virgil’s other shoulder.

  Why are there five of them and why are they all so pretty?

 “Can you guess who they are?”

 One of them rolls his eyes. “Yes, that sounds like a perfect use of time that isn’t at all a waste.”

 “Okay, so you’re the jaculi.”

 He smirks. “Janus.”

 The one near the entrance to the cave just cackles and bounces on the balls of his feet. Almost like…

 “You made me spill the bathtub over my whole yard!”

 He cackles louder. “Yes, I did!”

 Virgil rolls his eyes. He’s not fond. He’s not.

 “Remus,” Logan scolds, “you said you were just going into the well.”

 “He took me out!”

 “Yeah, because that thing is cramped as hell.”

 “Aww,” Patton coos, “how sweet.”

 “Well,” the last one says, smiling softly from one of the darker corners of the cave, “we knew that, didn’t we?”

 Virgil turns, looking hard into the darkness. The last person stands, walking over slowly, leaning most of his weight on one leg. As he moves into the light, he sits down on the log and reaches down. Virgil’s eyes widen as he gets handed the last of the dried meat.

 “You’re still hungry,” the person says softly, “I can tell.”

 Virgil cannot eat right now, thank you very much. Instead, his eyes are fixed on his bandage, still tied sloppily around the person’s leg.

 “You’re the dragon.”

 “I am. But you can call me Roman.”

 “…does it still hurt?”

 “Oh, this?” He smiles and moves his leg. “A little. But it’s almost better,” he finishes, reaching over to gently bump Virgil’s shoulder, “thanks to you.”

 Yes, hello? Virgil would like for someone to explain what’s going on, please.

 “I’m sure you’ve got questions,” Logan says, also sitting down, “and we can do our best to answer them. But first…are you alright?”

 Uh, no. “Why do you think I’m not?”

 “You’re breathing faster than most mortals do at rest, your face is more flushed than it was, and you were troubled while you slept.”

 …shhh…

 “I, um…I was having a nightmare.”

 “Ooh,” Remus says, plopping down on the floor with his chin propped up on his hands, “was it a bad one?”

 “…you could say that.”

 “Remus,” Patton chides, “don’t.”

 Remus pouts but hushes, reaching out to toy with a stick. Patton rolls the stone between his hands.

 “You did seem upset,” Janus says, “can we help?”

 “H-help?”

 Janus raises an eyebrow. “Yes, help. Or is that not a thing most mortals do?”

 Um. Well. Uh, hang on.

 “Are you just going to be mean to him,” Logan sighs, “or are we actually going to make an effort to be friendly with the person we have decided to befriend?”

 “Can one of you explain what’s going on?” Patton nods to Virgil. “Before he decides we’re all mad?”

 Roman sighs. “Virgil? Are you still hungry?”

 “Huh? No, no, I’m…I’m okay.”

 He smiles. “Good. This…this might sound a bit strange, but…try and keep up?”

 “As weird as it might sound, this isn’t the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

 Roman blinks in surprise, a small smile coming over his face. “Isn’t it?”

 “Well, you must have some idea of what I do for a living.”

 Roman’s smile only grows. “Yes, as a matter of fact, we do.”

 Logan clears his throat. Virgil turns, seeing the book from his cabin appear in Logan’s hands.

 “Did you—is that my—“

 “I can assure you,” Logan says softly, “that I did not steal your book from you. Rather, this is a copy, generated from the information I was able to learn.”

 “What did you want?”

 “We were cursed.” Logan closes the book with a snap. “Cursed to take on forms that were hated or feared or simply a nuisance.”

 Virgil’s stomach drops. Cursed?

 “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, “that sounds…awful.”

 “It was,” Janus mutters, “completely inconvenient and an utter waste of time.”

 “You say like it wasn’t your fault.”

 “Oh, right, it was absolutely only my fault.”

 “You two,” Patton huffs, “enough.”

 Virgil’s still trying to wrap his head around everything. “Wait, hang on, so—you were cursed? Were? Past tense?”

 “Well,” Janus gestures to himself, “I don’t exactly look like a snake anymore, do I?”

 He raises a finger when Virgil opens his mouth.

 “Careful, dear.”

 Virgil snaps his mouth shut.

 Roman rolls his eyes and places a hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “You broke the curse, my friend. Or at least…you helped us break it.”

 “But how? I didn’t—I didn’t do anything.”

 He raises an eyebrow and gestures to the bandage. “You don’t consider this doing anything?”

 “Or this?” Patton holds up the stone.

 Logan taps the cover of the book. “You helped us. When you had no reason to, past the goodness of your heart.”

 “We would’ve been hurt,” Janus says quietly, “or hunted without you. They certainly would’ve killed me.”

 “And me,” Remus says.

 Patton nods. “And me.”

 Roman simply taps his leg. Right. They already tried to kill him.

 Virgil blinks. “So…me helping broke the curse?”

 “You caring broke the curse,” Logan corrects gently, “and, well, when you...when you seemed to be in need, we wanted to care for you too.”

 Oh.

  Oh.

  Oh, fuck.

 “So,” Roman says, smiling up at Virgil, “how can we help?”

 “Help? With—with what?”

 “The nightmares.”

 “Oh,” Virgil mumbles, averting his eyes, “you, uh, can’t. Not really. They’re not a curse or magical or anything. They’re just nightmares.”

 “But there must be something we can do.”

 He shakes his head sadly. Believe him, if there were anything five unfairly attractive people could do, he’d tell them. But there isn’t. “They come with the job. There’s not—no one can do anything.”

 He can practically hear Patton frowning. “That’s not very fair. You do so much for others, don’t they—don’t they care?”

 Virgil shrugs. “Life isn’t fair.”

 “So take what it won’t give you.” Janus folds his arms. “They don’t care for you. Even though you care for them.”

 “They do care for me,” Virgil argues, “they’re kind. They help me.”

 “Not with this,” he shoots back, “not with what you really need.”

 “You protect everyone,” Roman says softly when Virgil opens his mouth to argue again, “who protects you?”

 Who protects the protector?

 “…no one.” Virgil shakes his head. “No one but me.”

 “Well, you’re right. That doesn’t seem fair at all.” Logan sets the book aside and it vanishes into the darkness of the cave. “Perhaps we should endeavor to fix that.”

 “F-fix it?” Virgil’s head jerks up. “How?”

 “Let us protect you.”

 “Protect me?”

 “Do keep up,” Janus sighs, but he’s pretty sure he can see him smiling over there, “at the very least, we have magic. That should offer you something.”

 “You don’t have to decide right now,” Roman says quickly, “but…thought we’d offer. Think it over.”

 …well, if ‘protection’ involves seeing them more often, Virgil can definitely work with that.

 “While I think it over, will you tell me how you got cursed?”

 “So it was entirely Janus’s fault—“

 “It was not!”

 “Yes, it was!”

 As Remus and Janus start arguing, Virgil smiles and leans back against the wall of the cave. Roman waves his hand and the cave wall warms, almost cradling Virgil. Logan settles on his other side, weight solid against his arm.

 Yeah, he could get used to this.

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[lavenderlattaes]

20 with hyunjin please

a/n: someone give me lessons on making better titles,,,, hhhh (also i lowkey wanna make a full length fic with this lmao)

when practice is over. | hwang hyunjin

⇒ pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

[ high school! au ]

⇒ genre: fluff

⇒ prompt: #20 Kissing in a stairwell, giving them an artificial height difference.

⇒ word count: 1.1k words

⇒ warnings: one teeny tiny violent comment from seung but it’s all cool, and maybe hwang hyunjin in general just bc lol

Finally, you thought, no more stuck-up chaebol heir classmates, no more piled up homeworks, no more final exams, no more stress. It’s just you, your animes, and your limitless tubs of ice cream over summer break. You bid goodbye to your best friend, Kim Seungmin, knowing he still has lots of stuff to do as class president despite it being the last day of the year already. You usually wait for him and walk home together, but today, you had to make a few stops before heading home anyway. 

“Wait for me before watching the latest episode of Black Clover or I’m going to snap your wrist in two!” Your overly violent and passionate best friend calls out as you head for the door, making you whip around to stick your tongue out at him as he rolls his eyes and waves his hand. You let out a chuckle, knowing he’s just joking about breaking your wrist, since someone else is going to end up breaking every single one of his bones if he even tries to break at least one finger on you. Nonetheless, Seungmin loves you and only does it to get on your nerves and emit a response from you, knowing how emotionless you can be at times.

Let’s just say he’s one of the very few people you can actually tolerate at school. The two of you didn’t fit well at such a prestigious school, but with brains like yours, you both got scholarships and are studying the best education with almost zero expense on your part. You can handle a few stuck-up chaebol heirs for quality education.

“Hey, Y/N! Going home already?” Another friend of yours, Han Jisung greets, also making his way outside his room which was across from yours. You shake your head with a smile. Despite being the son of the CEO of a huge music label company, Jisung was pretty down to earth and fun to be around. He’s met all of the biggest idols to date, but he’s never let that get to his head, which is why you like him. 

“I have to meet up with the captain,” you say with a teasing smile and Jisung lets out a loud laugh, knowing what you mean. 

“Aight, I’ll see you around for the summer, then. You have to go see some concerts with me. You and Seungmin and the whole gang. My treat,” Jisung says and you thank him for the offer before you both part ways.

You reach the stairs, waving at your junior, Yang Jeongin. His dad owns the school but he’s an absolute angel, and all of your friends love him too. He heads for the theatre club room, and you head down the stairs, eager to reach your destination. You reach the first landing and round the stairs making it down just a few steps when you stop in your tracks. 

Your breath hitches. Standing just a few steps below you was Hwang Hyunjin in all his soccer uniform glory, his long, blonde hair held back by a loose half ponytail and a headband. His hair was kinda messy, and it was probably from running around the field so much.

“Hey,” you manage to squeak out after a few seconds of silence, and Hyunjin chuckles, biting on his lower lip lightly.

“Practice ended early a few minutes ago and I was waiting for you already,” he says, moving up one step. 

“Sorry for making you wait, I ran into Jisung in the hallway.” You say sheepishly and Hyunjin nods, his lips upturned in a small pout.

“I missed you too much, baby,” Hyunjin sighs, moving up one more step so he can reach for your hands. He takes your hands in his and swings them to the sides gently, his head tilted as he gazes at you, making your knees go weak.

Okay, so maybe you don’t really hate chaebol heirs, especially ones that play soccer and go by the name Hwang Hyunjin.

“What are you up to today?” He asks you, placing his large hand on your hip gently, moving you to the side by the wall, so other people can pass. Your cheeks heat up when a group of seniors pass by, smirking at you and the soccer team’s captain. You still weren’t used to all the attention and affection, since you’ve only started dating a few months ago and Hyunjin’s been chasing after you for far longer than that.

“Hmm, just going to watch the latest episode of Black Clover with Seung, after he’s done with class president stuff,” you say, looking away shyly. Hyunjin tsks, cupping your face and turning your head to face him.

“Look at me.” He says and your eyes reluctantly turn to him, making a bright smile grace his features. “Perfect, there’s my pretty angel,” he sighs dreamily and you feel like disagreeing because he literally exists there and you can’t even come up to his own beauty’s level.

“I’ve got meetings to attend to with Dad tonight, so I’ll be busy. But I’ll call you before you head to bed, okay?” He tells you gently and you nod, your cheeks heating up when his thumb caresses your cheek softly.

“Okay, now, kiss me.” Hyunjin says so casually, making you gasp and hit his shoulder.

“Hwang Hyunjin!” you exclaim as he whines, letting go of you to rub his sore spot. “Ow, that hurts,” he says, making you gasp and move down the steps to check his shoulder.

“Wait, really? Oh, I’m so sorry Jinnie, you caught me-��� 

Noticing the close proximity, Hyunjin turns to you and slips an arm around your waist, pulling you into him as he plants a kiss on your lips. Your eyes widen and your hands grip his shoulders, kissing him back anyway. A full smile breaks out onto his face, making him break the kiss. You both gasp for air and you stare at him.

“You’re crazy,” you whisper, your cheeks a dark shade of red now as your eyes frantically look around, hoping no one saw a thing. Hyunjin chuckles, leaning up to kiss your lips again with a soft peck. He nuzzles his face in your shoulder since you’re taller now on the staircase, his arms wrapping around your waist to hug you properly.

“Let me enjoy this, Y/N. I love kissing you,” he says with a wistful hum, his eyes closed in content. You sigh and shake your head, wrapping your arms around his shoulder, your hands coming up to play with his messy hair.

“Fine. But only because I know you did well during practice today.” You stroke his long blonde locks gently, relishing in the way he moves closer to you at the simple gesture. You soon hear the sound of faint footsteps and see his co-captain, Lee Felix round the staircase, still in his soccer gear as well, a confused look on his face. He turns around and his eyes meet yours before landing on his captain wrapped up in your embrace. He stares at Hyunjin in disbelief before turning to you and you piece it together.

“Hwang Hyunjin, you skipped practice again?!”

[kim-chann]

Matsu’s reacting when you say you want a baby (Yes and No):

//season 3 spoilers: I’m so soft after hearing that some of the Matsu’s wants future kids in episode 5 hhhh, so sweet 💕💕✨✨

The house that they shared was too quiet, so quiet, that he could hear his own heart beat in his ears. Comparing to a quiet hike, the mountain of quietness whenever you stop walking made you feel like someone was covering your ears.

The ringing in his ears because of the sudden quietness made him anxious. It was natural sure, but here he stood, in his house, in front of this S/O where silence deafened their ears just after four words left his S/O’s mouth.

“I want a baby.”

Osomatsu:

Yes: “A baby?” Osomatsu spoke, repeating what his S/O said. His eyes were wider than usual and his face was visibly anxious. His S/O nodded, “Yes, I want a baby with you, Osomatsu...” As they stepped closer to him, he his knees felt weak; like an unknown weigh was pulling him down. As soon as his S/O cupped his hands, he collapsed into his lovers arms and let out a sob that he didn’t know that he has been holding. 

“Of fucking course, babe, I thought you’d never ask.” His voice was shaky and muffled in his lover’s shoulders but he couldn’t help it. Kids are great after all, and he wanted his own-- his own offspring where he can love and raise with his lover. But never in a million years where he thought his S/O would want a child with him. It was like a dream to him. 

Osomatsu feels a bit embarrassed that he got so emotional at his S/O’s proposal, he just wasn’t mentally prepared for such a scenario. 

Osomatsu removed himself in his lovers arms before he smiled at his S/O. His smug grin returned to his face and he smothered his lovers face with kisses, “Want to try? Right now?” He’d ask between kisses.  

“Osomatsu!” A giggle left their throat at soon as he begun to kiss at their cheek that trailed down to their neck. “Come on! Not here!”

“Aww! Fine... let’s go to the bedroom.”

No: His face was pale, his eyes were unreadable as he bit in his lower lip. “K-Kids?” He repeated. He thought of such a thing, wanting kids with his lover was a good thing, yes, but was he really prepared for this?

“Yes, Osomatsu, I want a child with you...” As his lover approached him, he felt a wave of guilt wash through him. His lover gripped his hands as his arms felt limp; like he had no control over them. His muscles felt so tense that he couldn’t move. 

“I--” He tried to speak but his speech was incoherent as his emotions were all over the place. With little control over his hands, he gripped his lovers hands tightly and forced out the words: “I can’t.”

“You can’t?”

“No, babe, I can’t.”

The look of disappointment flashed on his lovers face and the weight on his chest doubled. He panicked a bit and tried to reassure his lover, “I-I mean, think about it! Kids are great and all, but are we even prepared for this? Kids are expensive and loud as hell. I...” he sucked up a breath.

“I just don’t want kids, S/O... I’m sorry.”

Karamatsu:

Yes: His eyes were sparkling bright as soon as he hears his lover say those words. “My love!” He exclaimed and brought them into a hug, planting kisses onto their face and brought them into a deep, long kiss. “I’ve always wanted to have kids with you, dove, it’s like a dream that I’ve always pictured! A family with you, and the kids that we must have.” He emphasised his point by rubbing your belly with a painful smirk. His smirk only widened when his lover giggled. 

“Really!” His lover would exclaim, sharing the same excitement that Karamatsu had as his cheeks were reddening from smiling so big. 

“Of course my love! I was wanting to ask about kids for a while now, but I couldn’t have the confidence to ask.” He confessed, trailing his hands over his lovers waist and gave them a warm smile. He felt a bit embarrassed by the confession, and that his lover was the one that had to ask such a life changing question. 

“Well, it’s better now than never.” His lover shrugged. Karamatsu smiled and brought them into a deep kiss, the kiss begun to make the lovers into a more intimate mood as Karamatsu broke the kiss with a loud smack.

His lover exclaimed when Karamatsu carried them bride-style and laid quick kisses on their cheeks as he led them towards the bedroom, making his S/O giggle at his excitement and affection.

“I can’t wait to see my little Karamatsu Jr~”

No: “You want kids?” He’d repeat, making sure that he was hearing his lover correctly. He felt his heart stop in his chest as his body straightened; nervous and frightened from the sudden confession. Karamatsu always fantasied about wanting kids, but now that he had a lover, imagining a family made him feel... anxious. 

“Kara?” 

His lovers voice snapped him out of his head as his eyes stared deep into his anticipating lover’s eyes. He knew that they wanted him to say yes, he wanted kids, of course he did. But... he just wasn’t ready.

“My love, please...” His spoke gently, his voice was oddly quiet which surprised both him and his lover. “I don’t think that I’m ready for kids.”

“...But I thought you said you wanted kids?”

“I know, my love, I know.” He spoke, “I want a Karamatsu Jr. but I don’t think I’m prepared to become a parent. My love... can you give me time to think about this?”

His lover’s eyes were filled with disappointment from his answer, but as soon as they smiled at him, they nodded, “Of course, Kara, take your time.”

“Thank you, my love...”

Choromatsu:

Yes: “Huh? Kids! With m-me?!” He pointed at himself, his voice loud as it echoed throughout the house. His cheeks were flaring as he felt himself die internally. This was something that he’d thought about, and the thought itself made him feel painful butterflies in his stomach. 

“Yes, Choro! I want kids with you!” His lover would exclaim, matching the same energy that he resinated. “I’ve been wanting to have kids with you for a while now, but I didn’t know how to ask you. But I needed to get it out of my chest, can we have kids?”

His eyes were wide and his face was red with such embarrassment. He didn’t know what to say. He took a second to think about the scenarios of having a family with his lover. Unexpectedly, the thoughts made him extremely happy.

Choromatsu swallowed a breath and grabbed his lovers hands, “Y-Yes! I would love to have children with you!” He’d rest his forehead onto their hands, as if he was bowing in a begging way. 

His venerability made his lover laugh as Choromatsu raised his head up in confinement, “W-What’s so funny?”

“You don’t have to bow, Choro! You’re so cute!”

His cheeks flushed, and gripped his lovers hands even tighter, “I’m serious! I want to have kids with you!”

His lover’s giggles subsided as they cupped his cheeks, “I got that mister, and that makes me incredibly happy to hear that...” 

Tears leave his eyes in happiness as he brings his S/O into a hug, “I love you so much, S/O, I want to be married to you one day too...” 

No: “Eh? K-Kids?” He would stutter as soon as he heard his lover confess such a thing. He loved his S/O, yes, of course he did, but staring a family? That was something that he never really thought about. “Are you sure? Why do you want kids?”

His lover smiled at him, “I love you so much, Choro! It would be my true happiness if I could have kids with you.” Their hands cupped his and he felt how clammy and sweaty they were. They were nervous, he could tell. Kids was such a huge thing to think about, and to even have as lovers. It took huge responsibility, and the thought made him sick to his stomach.

Imagining kids with his lover made him happy, but his heart banged with guilt, knowing that he never dreamed to have kids. 

“S/O, kids with you would be wonderful...” His lover smiles, “But I don’t think that we’re ready to have them.” The smile dropped. 

“What?”

“Kids are a huge responsibility, we don’t even know how to manage children, and don’t know the first thing about them. We’re not ready...” He confesses. He tried to remain confident, but his heart was betraying his demeanour. 

“So... you don’t want kids?”

“...No... I don’t... I’m sorry.”

“Ah, o-okay...”

Ichimatsu:

Yes: He’d choke on his tea as his lover confessed those words. “Kids? W-With me?” His half-lidded eyes would be wide as shock wrote his every movement. “This is just a joke, right...? You’re pranking me, aren’t you? Hahahah, very funny, kitten...” He laughed dryly, taking another sip of his green tea. 

“No, Ichi! I’m serious! I really want kids with you!” 

He spat out his tea once again as he faced them, “N-No, you’re not serious, c’mon, stop messing with me...” 

His lover approached him and gripped his hands and squeezed, “Matsuno Ichimatsu, I want to have your kids and want to raise a family with you, It would be my dream to start a family with someone like you.”

Ichimatsu froze where he sat and stared at his lover, his throat making incoherent noises that tried to imitate words. “W-Why? I’ll be a horrible dad, I’ll be such a bad influence, our kids would hate me, and--”

A quick kiss silenced his anxiety as his words no longer came out of his mouth. “I know this is a big decision, Ichi, I’m serious that I want to have kids with you. I love you so much, I would love to take a big step forward with you.”

Ichimatsu hands shook in his lovers hands, “I--”

“If you don’t want kids, Ichimatsu, that’s fine! I love you, and anything that you want and don’t want is alright, it is a big decision after all, so--”

“...I do want kids.”

“What?”

“I want kids...”

Now it was his lovers turn to be shocked. His S/O was lost for words as Ichimatsu stared into his lover eyes with nervousness, but determination in his eyes, “H-having kids... would be nice...”

His lover smiled as tears formed into their eyes, “You don’t understand how happy that makes me feel, Ichi...!” 

Ichimatsu’s flushed cheeks made it hard to smile with his burning cheeks, “I’m am too...!” He pulled his lover into a tight hug. 

No: “K-Kids? Are you serious?” He’d ask, laughing dryly as he rolled his eyes, “Kids are nice, but having my own would be troublesome... I’d be a bad dad too.” He took a sip of his green tea. 

The silence made him curious as he turned to face his lover. The unreadable expression on their face made his heart race a bit, “Wait, are... you were being serious?” HIs eyes widened. He pinched himself in his hand and winced when he felt the wave of pain. 

This was fucking real. 

Ichimatsu tried to calm himself down, realising that this wasn’t a prank and that his lover genuinely wanted children. He tried to speak but he didn’t know what to say. “W-Why would you want kids with me...?”

HIs lover stepped closer to him and sat down in front of him. The distance made him a bit more nervous, but felt appreciative that his lover understood that he needed his own space. 

“It’s because I love you, Ichi. I love you so much that I really would love to raise a kid together.” Their smile made his heart pang with guilt. 

He never dreamt of having kids, and the thought of him made him scared. He knew by heart that he doesn’t want any of his own offspring and take care of them because he knew he’d raise them in such a bad way unintentionally. 

“...No.”

“Hm?”

Ichimatsu sucked up a breath, “I don’t want kids...”

He’d never forget the look of sadness in his lover eyes before they locked hands and smiled. He could see all the pain just by staring into them. 

“T-That’s fine, Ichi, I love you and respect your decision.” 

Jyushimatsu:

Yes: “Kids! Kids!” He’d exclaim, “Of course I would love to have kids!” If it were even possible, his smile would widen and his would pick up his lover and spin them around. The sudden act of eagerness made his lover laugh as he laughed along with them. 

He wanted his own kids and even he was prepared to be a father with his lover. With his learned ability from Eitarou, he knew at least some knowledge of how to raise kids. He placed down his lover and gave them a kiss, “I’ve always wanted to have kids with you, S/O, but I thought that you’d refuse to have kids with me.” He scratched the back of his head, self-conscious of his own confession. 

“None-sense, Jyushi! I love you so much, I’m so sorry that you thought I don’t want to have kids with you.”

His wide smile returned to his face as his cheeks flared up in happiness. “I love you so much, thank you so much!” He’d pull his lover into a hug that was gladly returned from his lover. 

Tears and sobs escaped Jyushimatsu, surprising himself and his lover. He’d never experienced so much happiness before that he couldn’t help but cry in joy. 

No: He covered his mouth with his sleeve, “Kids? Are you sure?” HIs eyes were shaped as a cats as if he were in thought. “Why?”

His lover felt a wave of anxiety from the way he was acting. “I love you, Jyushi! It would be amazing to raise a child with you!” They’d confess, their cheeks glowing red from the words that they spoke. 

Jysuhimatsu removed his sleeve from his mouth and stared at his lover with a sad look in his eyes. His smile was not as big as his S/O was used to as he stepped closer to his S/O and linked hands. 

“S/O, having kids with you would be amazing,” His voice wasn’t loud, as it was kept at a in-voice volume. It scared his lover a bit. 

“But... I don’t want kids.” His smile dropped and he refused to look at his lovers eyes. 

The house went quiet as the ticking of the clock echoed in their ears. 

“I-I--”

“I’m sorry, S/O.”

He could hear his lover suck in a painful breath, “No, i-it’s alright... erm, excuse me.” His lover shuffled away from him as he sighed out and covered his face with his hands. 

“Im sorry.”

Todomatsu:

Yes: “Kids!” He exclaimed, his phone dropping from his hands as his body froze where he stood. “Are you being serious? You want to start a family with me?” He asked, spitting out questions as his lover tried to answer them all. 

“Yes, Totty! I want to raise a family with you!” They smiled at him, their cheeks red from the confession. 

Todomatsu smiled and brought his lover into a tight hug, “You don’t understand how much that makes me feel...! I wanted to have a son or a daughter with you! Raise them to be a prince, or a princess. I-- ugh! I love you so much!” He’d kiss his lover’s cheeks as they giggled in unison. 

“I honestly, thought you’d say no!” His S/O said, making Totty shake his head. 

“I didn’t like the concept of kids, but as I was on Instagram, babies are so cute! It would be so cute to raise one with you and spoil them.” Tears were in his eyes that spoke true happiness. 

“You changed your mind because of Instagram?” His lover asked, a chuckle left their mouth. “That’s so funny and cute at the same time!” 

His S/O laughed at him, but Todomatsu shut them up with a quick kiss. “But even if it weren’t for the media, I would still love to raise children with you, S/O! I love you so much!”

“I love you too, Totty!”

No: “Huh! Kids?” He’d ask, his attention was now on you instead of his phone. “Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“...Why?”

“...huh?”

“I mean, kids are super cute and all, but they’re loud! All they do it scream, make a mess and cry all the time. I don’t really want a baby because I’m the one that’s your baby.” He winked.

His lover was a loss for words. That wasn’t that they expected at all. 

“So... you don’t want a child?”

“Mm... no. You have me! I’m your baby, right?” He laid his head into your lap and gave you puppy eyes. Your cheeks flared from how cute he looked, as you stroked your hand through his hair. 

You wanted a baby with him, yes, but he must’ve thought that this was some sort of joke because of his reaction. I think you should ask him again, without him being on his phone. 

[gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights]

Rating: T

Summary: From cleaning up their city, to strengthening their partnership, to untangling their love lives—New York has taught Ladybug and Chat Noir that they can get through anything together.  Well, everything except automatic doors.  (New York special reveal fic)

Word Count:  6722

XXX

Marinette had gotten back from New York three days ago, but it wasn’t until she saw Chat Noir that she really came home.

He’d arrived early to the meeting spot—a rooftop where someone had planted a pot of blue forget-me-nots—and he hummed under his breath while perching at the roof’s edge.

“Little kitty on a roof... all alone without his lady…” 

She thought she’d overcome the stutter in her heart when she heard that tune.  But that was before she’d almost lost her partner again.

“Not alone anymore,” she said, plopping down next to him and bumping his shoulder.

He didn’t bump back.  That was weird.

“Kitty?”  She leaned forward, trying to get a better look at his face.  The mask made it difficult to tell, but she was pretty sure his green eyes were rimmed with red.  “Are you alright?”

He shrugged too quickly.  “It’s nothing.  I’m really glad to see you again, LB.”

“Which is why you haven’t looked at me this whole time.”

Finally, he met her eyes, and she gasped.  He’d definitely been crying.  A lot.  What had… what had happened?  Was it just seeing the city for the first time since they’d been back?  Mayor Bourgeois had done a surprisingly good job of organizing the cleanup, but there was still a long way to go.  That was the reason they’d come out on patrol tonight, so surely he’d expected the damage.

Could he still be upset about everything that had happened between them?  No.  He knew she’d forgiven him.

Still, she squeezed his hand just in case.

“Chat.  You know you can always tell me the truth.”

His eyes went wide, and then fresh tears welled in them.

“I—right.  I promised I’d never hide the truth from you again.”  He wiped his eyes with the heel of his free hand.  “I’ve just been stupid.  Even more stupid, if that’s possible.”

“You’re not stupid,” she said.  Stupidly.  She didn’t know what would help, but surely she could come up with something more comforting than that.  “You’re the brave, amazing, irreplaceable Chat Noir.”

He snorted.  “My girlfriend thinks I’m replaceable.”

The world screeched to a halt.  The moon could’ve fallen from the sky, and she wouldn’t have noticed.

“You have a girlfriend?”

Chat Noir winced.  Oops.  She probably shouldn’t have shouted right by his ear.

“I had a girlfriend.  For almost a month.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

His brow scrunched under his mask.  “I didn’t want you to think I was trying to make you jealous.  And… I didn’t tell anyone, actually.  It kind of had to be secret in case my father…” He shook his head.  “Sorry.  I don’t want to get too close to my identity.  Which is another reason I didn’t tell you.”

Of course.  There was no good reason for him to tell her.

She still felt like she should’ve known.

“I’m sorry.  You had every right to keep your personal life private.”  She rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand.  “And I’m sorry about your girlfriend, too.  She clearly doesn’t know who she’s missing out on.”

He looked up from where he’d been staring at their hands.  “I—uh-um-hhhh-yeah.”

She made a noise somewhere between an eep and a cough, jerking her hand back so quickly she almost fell backwards.

“I—I mean, anyone would be lucky to date you—no!  Um, you’re a catch?”  Oh, that was even worse!  What was wrong with her?  “You—you know what I mean!”  

His head tilted.  “I, um. Do I?”

She dropped her head in her hands.  She didn’t even know what she meant.  She was still in love with Adrien.  The last thing she wanted to do was give Chat false hope.

“Sorry,” she groaned.  “Lately I can’t get two words out without making a mess of things.”

“Join the club.”  He snorted.

“I might not be much help, but… do you want to talk about it?”

“You—you’d let me?”

“You did say you weren’t going to hide things from me anymore.”  She smiled, bumping his shoulder.

This time, he bumped her back.  “I guess I did.”

He paused, seeming to gather his thoughts.  The sounds of traffic drifted up from below to fill the gap.  Funny how even the traffic felt more like home in Paris.

“It was my fault, as usual,” he murmured.  “I didn’t tell her I was leaving Paris, either.”

“You didn’t?”  It made sense that he wouldn’t want to hurt his partner, but why would he hide from someone in his civilian life?

“Like I said.  Stupid.”  He shook his head.

“Not stupid enough to break up with you over.”  She frowned.  “Not if she really loved you.”

That probably wasn’t the most tactful thing to say, either.  She hoped Chat’s girlfriend loved him.  He’d always been so full of love, it was difficult to imagine him with someone who wouldn’t return it.

“It… wasn’t just that.”  He took a deep breath.  “Promise you won’t hate me?”

That question didn’t reassure her, but she still knew her answer.

“You’re my best friend, kitty.  I could never hate you.”

The tension drained from his shoulders.

“Right.  I should know that by now.  It’s just hard to remember, when I’m so scared and stupid and—I think I might have accidentally cheated on her.”

Marinette blinked.  Chat?  Cheating?  The boy who would rather turn Marinette down in front of her Marichat-shipping papa than hide his feelings for Ladybug?

“What did you do?”  

His ears drooped.  He looked so limp without the over-the-top confidence that normally filled him. 

“I danced with another girl.  And hugged her a lot.  I thought it was as friends but then my other friend posted some pictures of us to Instagram, because she didn’t know that I was dating K—my girlfriend, and it looked way worse than it was and my girlfriend thinks I’m in love with this other girl and I… the worst and best thing is she might be right.”

Wow.  That was.  There was a lot to unpack there.

“You’re… in love with… two people?”  Neither of which are me?

No.  Bad Marinette.  This wasn’t about her; this was about Chat Noir.  Besides, she wanted him to move on!

“I don’t know.  All I know is that I never wanted to hurt either of them, and I feel awful.”

...Was this about her?  The sentiment definitely hit too close to home.  

“It stinks, doesn’t it.” She sighed.

“More than Plagg’s cheese.”

That got a smile out of her.  “I wish I knew how to help, but the truth is, I’ve never had any luck with love either.”

Chat’s brow furrowed.  “But what about the boy you…?”

Her throat clogged.  Memories flashed through her mind—her and Adrien dancing in the sky, tumbling through doorways, accidental touches and soft smiles and words she’d said too late. 

“This isn’t about me,” she said, banishing those thoughts.“We’re working on your love life tonight.”

Unraveling hers would probably require an intervention from Bunnyx.  Or a Lucky Charm.  Why hadn’t she thought of that before?

Because Tikki would kill me, probably.

“I don’t think there’s much to work on,” he muttered.  “I blew it with my girlfriend.  And what if I do try to ask out the other girl, but I just make the same mistakes again?”

Marinette smiled and placed her hand over his arm.  “You always learn from your mistakes, kitty.  And you’re always thinking of other people first.  If you just learn how to be honest with everyone—including yourself—I don’t think you’ll have a problem.”  

Wow.  Three whole coherent sentences.  That was miraculous.

“Heh.  And you said you didn’t have any love advice.”

“Well… I guess I can give it, but I can’t take it.”  She grimaced.  If only she’d been honest with Adrien…

But it wasn’t over.  She knew how much he meant to her, and she knew what she stood to lose.  Somehow, she’d find a way to tell him.

He bumped her shoulder.  “Come on, bug.  Spill the tea.”

She blinked before bursting out laughing.  “Spill the tea?”

“What?  That’s what you say when you want your friends to tell you some juicy secrets, right?”

“Ew.  Please never call my secrets juicy.  They’re more like… tangled up yarn, so knotted even I barely know what’s happening anymore.”

He winked.  “I’m a cat.  Playing with yarn is what I do best.”

She bit her lip.  He’d opened up to her.  By her own logic—that of no unnecessary secrets—she should return the favor.  But could she really do that to him, knowing how long he’d pined after her?

It doesn’t matter.  He’s in love with someone else now.  Maybe even two someone elses.

The thought was still so bizarre, she could hardly comprehend it.  Clearly he’d been serious about the yellow rose.  He’d moved on, and she… well, she was still where she’d started.  Chasing after Adrien, falling farther and farther behind.

“Maybe another night,” she said.  A coward’s retreat.

He gave her a long look before nodding.  “Alright.”

She let out a breath of relief.  Another night.  He was an outside perspective.  She would tell him later, if only because he might give clearer advice.

She stood and dusted off her legs, even though there was no dirt there.

“Vacation’s over.  We’ve got some cleaning up to do.”

XXX

“Hey.  It’s okay.”  She squeezed Chat’s hand when he paused in front of their statue.  Or, well, what was left of it.  Senti-Robostus had snapped the bronze Ladybug off, then tossed her into the front of a nearby convenience store.  The statue of Chat Noir looked lonely without her perched on top.

“This isn’t one we can fix, is it.”  His voice was sandpaper-rough.

“No.  I don’t think so,” she admitted.  “But it’s okay.  I never really liked that statue anyway.”  

It always reminded her of Copycat, who had turned out to be a total creep.  The Ladyblog had had to ban Theo’s accounts from the discussion boards too many times for comfort.

“...We should get moving again, then,” Chat said, but neither of them did.  They remained standing in place, still linked by their hands.

They’d been shifting rubble for hours, using their enhanced strength and even their powers.  Each time Marinette fed Tikki and transformed, she felt more exhausted than the last.  But Chat had to feel even worse.  His Cataclysm was the most useful for clearing chunks of broken walls, while her Lucky Charm was less reliable when not facing a concrete enemy.  The one score had been a bag of cement mix to fill in a busted sidewalk.

“We can’t fix everything in one night,” she said.  “We can patrol again tomorrow.  Or maybe the night after.”  She had a feeling she’d be too sore to move in the morning, enhanced strength or not.

“Easy for you to say,” he muttered.  “It’s not your fault that everything’s broken.”

She stared at him, stunned.  “Chat.  This is just as much my fault as it is yours.”

“But—”

“No buts.”  She pressed a finger to his lips.  “Paris is our city.  Not yours.  Not mine.  Ours.”

He didn’t argue, but his gaze still remained fixed on the ground.

“I could have stayed.  I could have downloaded an akuma alert app.  There are so many things I could’ve done differently, it could eat me alive,” she admitted, her voice trembling.  “I don’t want that to happen to you.”

“It’s so hard,” he whispered.

She dropped her hand from his lips.  “I know.  But we’ll get through it together.”

He was silent for a moment before nodding.  “You’re right.  You and me against the world… or in this case, you and me against a bunch of crushed buildings.”

She smiled.  It might not be a glamorous part of the job, but they would do their part to make it up to their city.

She raised her fist, and he bumped her knuckles gently.

“I’ll let you know when I’m free for next patrol,” he said, a little more life returning to his voice.  “Probably the day after tomorrow.  My family’s been on edge lately, with… well, you know.”

He nodded towards the broken statue.

“Right.  I’ll keep an eye on Plagg, then.”

Chat chuckled.  “Plagg” was what she’d named the little cat toy that he had the remote for.

This time, she looked forward to hearing the toy’s tiny mew.

XXX

It turned out to be three days before they could meet for patrol again.

“Soooo.”  Chat walked backwards in front of her, grinning in a way that was somehow both obnoxious and adorable.  “It’s another night.”

Oh.  She should’ve known he wouldn’t let that go so easily, especially now that he seemed to be in a better mood.  Had he asked out the other girl he liked?  Or did he patch things up with his girlfriend?  Or maybe he did neither, and he just knew how to move on.

“Technically, it’s not night yet.”  She pointed to the sun that sat low over the skyline.  “Also, there’s a—”

He tripped over a crack in the sidewalk, then toppled backwards against a No Parking sign.  The metal clanged like a gong where his head hit it.

“—pole behind you.”  She giggled.  

He pouted, rubbing the back of his head.  “No Parking?  Why would anyone even try to park here?”

They’d arrived at the worst scene of damage: in front of the Eiffel Tower.  There wasn’t even a road left to park on.  Most of the chasm had been filled in by now, but there were construction crews repairing the pipes and electrical wiring that had been uprooted.  

Of course, the workers had gone home for the evening already.  Marinette and Chat would have to be careful not to get in the way of their unfinished work.  Luckily, there was still plenty of rubble to move, and they’d come prepared with their powerups tonight.

“I’ve got two sets of ears, my lady.  That makes me twice as amazing of a listener.”  He swiveled the leather ears on top of his hair.  When had he learned how to control that?

“Why don’t you save the interrogation for after patrol?”

“It’s not an interrogation!  You accepted my yellow rose, which means we are friends for time and all eternity.  And friends can ask each other about important things in their lives.  Like their crushes.”

“I regret ever bringing that up.”  She pulled the purple macaron from her yo-yo and tossed it into her mouth.  At least she couldn’t say anything incriminating while she was chewing.

The power shocked over her, leaving her magenta space suit in its wake.  A grin tugged at her lips.  She’d never get tired of that.

“It can’t be that bad.”  Chat unzipped a pocket and dug out a purple slice of camembert.  He made a face before chewing it.  “Not as bad as this nasty cheese, anyway.”

He transformed too, plasma-like wings sprouting from his back.

“You know, I can make you the powerup macarons, too.  That way you only have to use the cheese if you’re giving it to Plagg.”

“Wait, really?”  His eyes widened.  “Why didn’t you say that weeks ago?”

“Because it’s too fun to watch you make that face.”  She smirked and flicked his glowing bell.  “But I’m willing to pass up on that in exchange for you leaving my love life alone.”

He sighed.  “If that’s really what you want.”

He looked surprisingly dejected.  Was it just because she was keeping secrets?

“I’m surprised you want to know about… Him,” she said quietly.  “I don’t want to make you feel worse.”

“You don’t have to worry about me, my lady.  I haven’t figured out exactly what I feel for my friend yet, but your advice has helped me start.  I just want to help you in return.”

He smiled behind his helmet.  He meant it.  Somehow, despite all the times she’d turned him down, he just wanted her to feel better.

“Alright,” she relented.

“I swear, I—wait, what?”

“I said alright.”  She chuckled.  “Though I’m a little curious how you planned to convince me.”

He blushed.  “I was going to swear on my honor as your friend that I would take your not-juicy secrets to my grave.”

“Thanks for the thought.  Now come help me with this chunk of cement, and I’ll ‘spill the tea.’”

XXX

It was surprisingly hard not to spill too much tea.  As they flew pieces of rubble out to space, she told him everything she could without jeopardizing her identity.  A few unspecific details, vague confession plans, even that there was another boy in love with her.  Though that seemed less relevant now that she realized she couldn’t quench her feelings for Adrien.

“Wow.  Can you imagine being dense enough not to realize Ladybug is in love with you?”  He sighed wistfully.  Maybe he hadn’t completely given up on her then.

“He’s not dense.”  She grunted as she shoved the chunk of road with her shoulder, finally sending it floating off out of the atmosphere.  “He’s sheltered.  And I don’t always send the clearest signals.”

“I guess helping set him up with a different girl would be a mixed message.”  He winced.  Without giving names, she’d explained the whole double-date fiasco.  He’d been polite enough to stifle his laughter.

“I told you my love life was tangled.  I don’t know that there’s anything you can do to help, but thanks for listening anyway.”

She adjusted her wings, slowing the flare from her jet pack.

“Wait.”  He grabbed her hand before she could begin her descent towards earth. 

She stopped, barely daring to breathe.  Had he changed his mind?  Did he still want to be a thread in her knotted love life after all?

“You told me to be honest with myself,” he continued, his voice soft but sure.  “It sounds like you’ve already done that—so be honest with him, too.”

Oh.  She grimaced.  Of course he’d use her own advice against her.  

“It’s not that easy.”

“I know.  But if you never tell him how you feel, you’re not giving him the chance to swoon at how amazing you are.”

He mimed falling backwards, literally head over heels.  He turned a full 360 degrees in midair before grinning back at her.

“You’re such a dork.”  She shook her head fondly.  “You’re right, though.  That’s what everyone else has told me too.  I can’t keep backing down, not if I want anything to change between us.”

Despite imagining a thousand scenarios where they were married with three kids, Marinette found herself unable to picture herself actually asking Adrien out.  It felt as far away as an alternate universe.

“I can help you out, if you want,” he said cheerily.  “Just put your communicator in your ear, and I’ll feed you all the best pickup lines in real time.”

She laughed.  “Thanks, but I think my awkward stuttering will still be better than that.”

“You’re right.  You should give yourself some credit.  You did call me a catch, after all.”  He winked.

“Chat!”  She punched his arm.  “I was just trying to cheer you up!”

“Uh-huh.  Suuure.”

He was just messing with her.  He wouldn’t be trying to help her with Adrien if he still had a crush on her, would he?  Even after all this time, it was still difficult to tell when he was actually flirting, and when he was just engaging in friendly banter.

...When she thought of it that way, it was less surprising that his ex-girlfriend had misjudged his actions too.

“What about you?”  She asked as they floated back towards earth.  “Do you have any updates on your love situation?”

“Sort of.”  He sighed.  “My girlfriend is clear about her feelings.  She’s given me too many second chances already, and my uncertainty has hurt her.  I can’t expect her to keep waiting while I try to figure out what I want.”

“That’s fair.”  Marinette nodded.  “I’m glad she can be so honest with you, even if it hurts.  She must trust you a lot.”

If only she could have that kind of trust in Adrien.  She… she could, couldn’t she?  Their friendship wouldn’t be destroyed after one tiny declaration of love.  Not after everything he’d said about her in New York.

Right?

“She’s never been afraid to speak her mind.  It’s one thing I really admire about her.”  Chat smiled wistfully.  “I hope that she finds someone who’s better to her than I was.”

“Chat…”

“No, my lady.  She deserves someone who’s as decisive as she is.  Someone who can love her the way she loved me.”

That sounded almost familiar.  Hadn’t Marinette had that same thought about Chat Noir?

“Yeah,” she murmured.  “Yeah, I guess she does.”

XXX

“What’s on the agenda today?”  Chat asked brightly when he arrived at their rooftop.  “Restoring the Arc de Triumph?  Planting more grass in the park?”

“No.”  Marinette fidgeted with her hands.  She’d rehearsed how to ask this a thousand times in the past few days, but she still felt stupid.  “I actually, er… I wanted to take you up on that offer.”

His ears perked up.  “You’re going to let me cut your hair?”

“No, not that offer.”  She smacked her forehead.  She’d forgotten he’d mentioned that when she’d complained about how her pigtails stuck out of her space helmet.  “The one you said?  About the communicators, and helping me, with um, Him…?”

Chat’s jaw dropped.  It would have made a great photo, if she’d gotten out her bugphone in time.

“You’re actually going to use my pickup lines?”

“No!  Those are still awful.”  Except the one about her being the lady of his dreams, but he didn’t need to know how soft that had made her.  “In fact, I don’t actually want us to use our communicators at all.”

He blinked.  “So, you want to take me up on my offer, but you don’t want me to do a single thing I offered.  Makes perfect sense.”

“Ugh.  Sorry, I’m so bad at this.”  She should just pretend she was explaining a plan to Alya.  Or maybe that she was coming up with a solution to her Lucky Charm.  That was never so awkward, right?  

“I want you to use this,” she clarified, pulling the toy cat out of her yo-yo.  “I always chicken out before I tell him how I feel.  I was thinking, if I felt like you were there… I might be a little braver.”

He still looked stunned, but a smile slowly crept across his face.

“So I can be your wingman?”

“...Sort of, I guess?  All you need to do is push the button when I inevitably start to panic.” 

His head tilted.  “But how will I know when you’re trying to talk to him?  You need a Plagg, too.”

“You’re one step ahead, kitty.  I was thinking we could go pick one up before patrol.  Since you’ll be keeping it, you should get to choose what kind of buzzer you want.”

He beamed at that.  “Brilliant as usual, my lady.”

Whew.  She’d worried he would think it was stupid.

“Come on.”  She unhooked her yo-yo from her waist.  “The store I bought Plagg at was set to reopen today.  If we’re quick, we can get there before they close for the night.”

He kept pace with her as they swung and leapt towards the west side of the city.  The novelty shop had been in the path of destruction, but by now most of the buildings were functional again.  

The repairs had restored Chat Noir’s good humor, too.  Either that or he’d sorted out his own romances.  Curious as she was, she found herself too nervous to ask.

I’m asking out Adrien.  It doesn’t matter if Chat Noir gets a girlfriend.  Him having a girlfriend hadn’t changed things between them before, after all.  He’d always be her partner.  Always.

She dropped down in front of the store— 

—and felt her soul leave her body.

“Nooooo,” she groaned, gaping at the brand new, shiny, automatic doors.

Chat Noir landed beside her and strapped his staff to his back.

“What’s wrong, my lady?  Are they all out of—” He blinked at the doors, too.  “Oh.”

Oh?  Was her fear of automatic doors that obvious?  Okay, fear was a strong word, but there was no way she could get into the store with her dignity intact.  She’d embarrassed herself in front of Chat plenty of times, but it was still light out, and too many civilians were on the street.

“I, just, uh—feel a draft coming out of this store! Maybe another place sells the same kind of toys?”  She grinned uncomfortably.  

It wasn’t likely.  They were marketed towards people in long-distance relationships. She’d been lucky to notice the beeper toys when she was looking for design inspirations in this out-of-the-way shop.

“Maybe.  Do you know where?  Most stores will be closing pretty soon.”

She sighed.  That had been such a flimsy excuse, she was surprised he’d even bought it.  

“No, it’s fine.  You just—might want to go in without me.”  She tapped her fingers together.  “They, um, have some toy spiders in there that are reeeeeally scary.”

“Oh, no!”  He replied too dramatically.  “I’m, uh, afraid of spiders too!”

“...Are you making fun of me?��

He grinned nervously.  “Why would you think that?”

“Because I know you’re not afraid of spiders.  You picked one up and moved it the other day because you didn’t want to kill it.”  It had been really cute, even if she’d originally screamed for him to squish it.

“Crud, I forgot about that,” he said under his breath.

They were drawing stares by now, standing in the glow of the shop’s windows without stepping inside.  One little kid waved at them, and Chat waved back.

“It doesn’t matter.”  She shook her head.  “We’re going in this shop, and we’re getting you a beeper toy, and we’re not going to be stopped by some stupid automatic doors.”

“Automatic—wait, you can’t get through automatic doors either?”  

She didn’t answer.  She was busy slamming into the glass.

“Ow,” she muttered with her nose squished against the door.  Which still.  Didn’t.  Open.

Behind her, Chat Noir started to laugh.

“Shut up,” she said, but it probably didn’t have much effect when muffled by the glass.

“Sorry, sorry!”  He rushed to help her as she peeled herself off.  “It’s just, this happens all the time to me and my good friend.  I thought I was going to be the one smushed like a bug on a windshield.”

“There’s only one bug here,” she said, brushing off the front of her suit.  “And she’s going to get through those stupid doors if it’s the last thing she does.”

“My lady—”

Frustrated, she banged her fists against the glass— 

—and shattered it into a million pieces.

Sirens blared.  She yelped, jumping back towards Chat.  

This was it.  Her life was over.  She was going to go to jail and lose her miraculous all because she’d used super-strength on a stupid door!

“Uh-oh.”  Chat gulped.

“M-miraculous ladybug!”  She yelled on reflex, though she didn’t have a Lucky Charm.  Could a Lucky Charm even fix this?  A villain hadn’t done the damage at all, unless she counted as a villain, because she’d just committed vandalism, and oh no the owner was coming towards them and— 

“Ladybug!  Chat Noir!”  The man with the white mustache looked more concerned than angry.  That was… that was good, right?  “Did an akuma come through here?  Do I need to evacuate?  There’s no one else in the store right now.  I don’t think anyone realized I’ve reopened.”

She blinked.  Would it be alright to lie, just this once?  To avoid being arrested, losing her miraculous, and letting Paris fall to Hawkmoth?

“No, no, there’s nothing to worry about,” Chat answered for her, holding up his hands.  

Meanwhile, the shopkeeper pressed a button on the wall, turning off the alarm.  If only her pounding heart could be quieted so easily.

“It was an accident,” Chat continued.  “It’s my fault.”

...Wait, what?

“I was trying to hold open the door for my lady, as all good gentlecats do.  But my powers of destruction and automatic doors don’t get along.”  He smiled ruefully, then produced a wad of euros from his pocket.  The shopkeeper looked as shocked as Marinette was. “I hope this will be enough to cover the damage.  And I’m very sorry.  You have a lovely shop.”

The shopkeeper’s glasses slid down his nose.  He pushed them back up, still not moving to accept the money.  “Chat Noir... this is far too much.”

“Consider it a tip.”  He winked.

A tip of… she couldn’t count every bill in his palm, but she swore that was at least three hundred euros. Where did he get that kind of money?  Did he have some kind of superhero donation drive she didn’t know about?

“Please, at least buy something,” the owner insisted.  “If there’s no akuma, then I assume you were coming to make a purchase?  Or was it a return?  Was the item you purchased not to your liking, Ladybug?”

“N-no, it was perfect!”  She said quickly.  Her heart still hadn’t stopped pounding.  He remembered her.  What was his name again?  She should be better at remembering citizens’ names.  “I—we—um, wanted another one, actually.”

“A matched set.”  Chat grinned.  “Would that be alright?”

“Of course.”  He looked relieved.  “Right this way.”

Chat stepped through the broken door frame—which opened just in time to trip him.  Marinette tried to catch him by his tail, but his weight dragged her down too.  They both ended up sprawled among the broken glass.

“Oww…” He groaned against the tile floor.

She picked a shard out of her cheek.  “Why does this keep happening to me?”  

The shopkeeper blinked down at them.  “On second thought, I’ll bring my options out to you.”

That was probably for the best.  While he left, she and Chat untangled their limbs and helped each other up.

“Sorry.”  He grimaced.  “I didn’t mean for my bad luck to rub off on you.”

“Bad luck?”  She tried to brush some glass out of her suit, but it just ended up sticking in her hand.  “If anyone’s unlucky, it’s me.  This kind of thing happens to me all the time.”

“My lady, you haven’t been this clumsy since the day we met.  And I know for a fact that automatic doors hate me.”

“They hate me more.  I couldn’t get through them once in New York.”

“Me either.”

She blinked up at him.  Glass shards were still scattered in his hair, reflecting the shop’s bright lights.  Yes, she could picture him being this unlucky—but could they really both be unlucky in the same exact way?

“I fell in a tangled mess with my crush, and then the doors kept smacking into us.  I’m pretty sure my ribs are still bruised from it.”  There was no way his luck was worse than that.

Pink flushed across his cheeks.  “Uh… me too?”

She snorted.  “It’s not a competition, Chat.  You don’t have to make up stuff to prove you have worse luck than me.”

“I’m not making anything up.”  He took a step forward and brushed a piece of glass from her bangs.  “Did you say that happened to you and… and your crush?”

His voice came out as a squeak.  But—if he was being serious— 

How many French kids had been in New York last week?  And more importantly, how many had been repeatedly squished between automatic doors? 

No.  There’s no way.  She was the girl who couldn’t even get through automatic doors—she was not this lucky.

“No, you couldn’t be her.”  His face fell.  “She wouldn’t even sit next to me on the plane.  There’s no way she has a crush on me.” 

Her mouth hung open.

“Adrien?”  Her shout was tinged with panic.  She was lucky that the street had cleared out, probably because the citizens thought their heroes were investigating an akuma. 

His wide eyes snapped back to hers.  

“M-Marinette?”

“Oh my gosh.  You’re—you’re really Adrien.  Adrien Agreste.”  The love of her life.  Who couldn’t even believe she liked him!

She wanted to shatter like the automatic door.  Maybe then she could avoid the horrible, soul-crushing embarrassment of admitting her feelings after committing accidental vandalism.

“And that’s… okay?”  His voice was barely a whisper.

“Okay?” Her grin must have looked manic, which probably didn’t reassure him.  She tried to force a normal expression.

...What was normal again?

He swallowed and rubbed the back of his neck—only to grimace and pull out another glass shard.  

“Sorry.  I—you didn’t want to know, and—” His expression turned to horror.  “Do I have to give up my miraculous now?”  

“What?  No!”  She clasped her hands over his before he could even think of removing his ring.  “Adrien—you’re the only Chat Noir for me.  I’m thrilled it’s you.”

“Really?”  His ears perked up.  “But I thought… I’m confused.  You said you were stuck in the automatic doors with your crush… but that was…?”

She smiled as tears pricked her eyes. 

“You.”  

After all this time, it was him.  Adrien was her partner.  

And she could trust her partner.

She rested her hand on his cheek, careful not to press any pieces of glass deeper into his skin.  “It’s always been you.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled, filling with water that spilled over onto his mask.

“Even when I thought I was moving on from you, I guess I was falling right back.”  He chuckled and wiped his eyes.  Then he rested his hand over hers.  His ring was a spot of cold against her fingers.

“This would only happen to us.”  She laughed too.  “And here I wanted your help to confess to, well, you.”

“That would’ve been awkward.”  He grinned.  “If we didn’t realize each others’ identities now, we would’ve then.”

She snorted.  “I wouldn’t give us that much credit.  We’ve both been stupider than that before.”

“Fair enough.  All this time, Ladybug was in love with me!”  

“You do realize that means you called yourself dense, right?”

He smacked his forehead, then winced.  “Ow.  I’d like to contest that, but I think I just proved it.”

She held back a laugh.  “As long as you don’t tease me for taking two years to confess to you, I’ll call it even.”

“Two years?”  He blinked.  “You’ve had a crush on me for that long?”

She shrugged sheepishly.  “I did say it’s always been you.”

His expression melted into something so soft, she could hardly stand it.  So it was a relief when he pulled her into an even softer—if glass-filled—hug.

“It was you, too.  Marinette you,” he murmured by her ear.  “It took me too long to realize it, but I always knew there was something special about you.”

Her heart soared at that, even higher than when they’d been dancing in the sky.  It all made sense now.  Alya had posted those photos on Instagram.  Neither of them had known Adrien had a girlfriend—Kagami, probably.  Hopefully she wouldn’t end her friendship with Marinette over this.  They were supposed to have their weekly orange juice tomorrow; Marinette would make sure to be honest with her, too.

But right now, that could wait.  All she wanted to do was feel the warmth of Adrien’s arms—Chat Noir’s arms.

“It was Chat Noir you, too,” she admitted.  “I didn’t want to let you go.  I think I took your love for granted, even when I was in love with ‘Adrien.’”

She felt his arms tighten when she said love.

“Considering you were torn between me and me, I think I can forgive that.”  He chuckled.  “Actually, I could do more than forgive you.  I could kiss you right now.”

Tingles shot through her.  Was she ready for that?  She’d hardly been able to imagine this moment—and she’d definitely never imagined it like this.  Covered in glass, Chat’s claws gently cupping her shoulderblade.

Somehow, it still blew all of her fantasies out of the water.   

“I could let you,” she softly replied.

He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against hers.  “Really?  I mean… I can still hardly believe this is happening.  I can still hardly believe you’re Marinette.”

She frowned.  “Why?  Because I’m so clumsy?”

“No, because you’re so—” he waved a hand, searching for the word.  “Perfect isn’t the right word.  You’re endearing, and smart, and brave enough to stand up to my father.  You can crush me at video games, and you can forgive me even when I don’t deserve it.”

“Adrien—”

“I left you.”  

In that moment, something shifted in her mind.  She knew he was Adrien, but finally, she could hear it in his voice.

“I left you twice.  As Adrien and as Chat Noir.  How can you still want me?”

She took his face in both hands.  Never again, not for one second, would she let this boy feel like he wasn’t wanted.

“How could I not want you, Adrien?”

He broke, the tears flowing freely.  They glimmered off the bits of glass still stuck to his face.  She wished she could clear both of those away, that she could stop him from hurting.

“See?  This is why I can hardly believe it.  I’m not supposed to be this lucky.”

“Me either.  But I’m tired of worrying about what we’re supposed to be.”  She smiled.  “I love you, kitty.  And if you plan on collecting that kiss—”

He did.  Somehow he was both clumsy and careful, probably because he was dodging the bits of glass still stuck to her face. Not that she minded.  It was him, and it was her—Adrien and Marinette, Ladybug and Chat Noir.

Though it should’ve been the last thing on her mind, she couldn't help thinking that both of Alya’s ships had sailed tonight.

She was just about to deepen this kiss when Adrien pulled back.

“What?”  she asked.  Had she been that bad of a kisser?

But no, he was looking at the shopkeeper.  Who had his arms full of animal toys, and a face red enough to blend in with her suit.

“Oh—ah—sorry to interrupt.”  He cleared his throat.  “Did you still want…?”  

Her face flushed too.  She didn’t think it was possible to be any more embarrassed after breaking the man’s doors, but she hadn’t thought it was possible to kiss Adrien without spontaneously combusting, either.

“I don’t suppose we need one now, do we?”  She glanced at Adrien sheepishly.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t want one.”  He inspected the boxes in the man’s arms.

“If afraid we’re out of Ladybug toys.  They’re our hottest selling item right now.  I even looked in the back to be sure none were hiding there.”

Adrien grinned, and she remembered why she never would’ve guessed his identity.  That toothy smile was all Chat.

“That’s okay.  I know the next best thing.”

XXX

“I hope you know that I’m never going to press the button,” Marinette said when they returned to their rooftop.

“What?  And I thought you loved me.”  Adrien put a hand over his chest in dramatic offense.

“You obviously don’t love me if you thought the best toy to represent me was a cow.”

“Cows are so cute though!”  He held up the black-and-white cow beeper toy, which he’d already named Stompp.  “And she has spots, just like you!”

Cows might not be cute, but Adrien certainly was.  And he knew she couldn’t resist his pleading kitty eyes.

She sighed and pressed the button.

“Moo!” Chat mimicked the toy.  “See?  Moo and mew!  They even sound alike.  What noise would a ladybug have made, anyway?”

“It would probably just call you a dork.”  She smirked.

“Or it might tell me it loves me.”  He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Or,” she took his hand, “you could just be happy with your real girlfriend telling you she loves you.”

His smile was soft and warm, enfolding her like a blanket.

“I think I can live with that.”

[kyunsies]

So I guess I can't send pictures on anon :( I was gonna send you pictures of my plants... maybe instead I'll post about them and send it to you idk 😐 but the plant I got is called a Money tree! Though right now it's really small!

Congrats on your exam today!! I know you'll nail it tomorrow too!!! 🥰🥰 I told my sister "hey!! Mädch got a 92% on her exam today!" and she said "oh yay!!" So we're rooting for you over here 🤩

I AM a musician! I checked out that channel and surfed through the videos to find one I thought would be interesting and I ended up watching them react to oneus to be or not to be. I had the weirdest flashbacks to when I was in college seeing them in those classrooms!!! My college classrooms looked the exact same, honestly. The chairs with the swing around desks, the chalkboards with staff lines taped on, and the grand piano in the background... like.. those are my people!!! Everything they said made perfect sense to me and honestly.. there were times when I said the exact same things they did at the same times LDJFHF but anyway I will probably watch more of their videos, I really enjoyed the lil talking session they did after watching the video!!

I kinda have a lot of thoughts about mx and their US vs Korean vs Japanese releases, but I haven't done enough listening and I don't know how the members feel about their different styles within their discography, besides the very little I've heard them say in interviews and similar content, so I don't necessarily feel comfortable saying much (aaand I don't know how much you care to listen to me talk about it lfsjskdh), but their English songs really seem like just another facet of the ever multifaceted mx, y'know? Like, they're just.. rounded musicians that are able to have a multitude of styles and sounds while still being them. Anyway that's simultaneously more and less than I wanted to say, so I'll stop there haha, sorry for going off on that a little bit 😅😅

Oh jeez sorry for the giant wall of text in this ask.. but I hope you're able to rest tonight and do well on your exam tomorrow!! 💖 dkbtho

yeah love u can't send pics on anon :((( but u are more than welcome to send me a pic in the DMs !!!! i would love to see ur cute plants <3m money tree sounds so cUTE hehe

and THANK YOU about my exam ;_____; i was so scared on it but i can't believe i got the grade i did ,,,,,,, i feel like i guessed on a lot of question LOL :') and i did okay on my exam today!!! i initially got an 80% on it which is eh but my prof did some iteam analysts and ended up getting a 82% which i can't really complain about !!! i'll take it hhhh AND PLS U TOLD UR SISTER TOO :(((( you both are so incredibly kind, thank you so much <3

and ahhhh YOU KNEW WHAT THEY WERE TALKING ABOUT :ooo i feel that's like, really high lever music terms (from someone who has never studied music intensely) like ,,,,, syncopation??? modal mixture ?? all that stuff i'm just like e,,,,,,,,,, musicians must study so much to even pick that up from non classical music u know?? they blow me away eveyr time, you guys are absolute geniuses when it comes to that stuff hhhh crazy !!!!!! i'm glad that video was able to bring back some nostalgia for you !!!! i enjoy so many of their videos <3 i suggest watching the ones for shinee (atlantis and don't call me, i think you'd like those videos) bc they have really cool things to say about shinee (i mean it's SHINEE so <3) ,,,, thank u for checking them out :)

and yeah like we'll never know how the members feel about it !!! like they might love the change of pace or they might hate it ya know? we don't really know that and like , me personally i actually don't like a ton of their japanese releases either but i do think that mx definitely covers a wide variety of sounds, and even tho they don't really push the boundaries musically when they make english things, i do think its MONUMENTAL and AMAZING that they are even making english albums in the first place !!!!!!! it really shows how dedicated they are to just making music, i think it sets them apart from other groups objectively. like look at how much music they have been releasing ever since debut, they barely get a break and i think that shows they just LOVE making cool music and i'm always always proud of them whether their music is right up my alley or not <3 mx are an amazing group and i'm so happy we get to experience their talent together with monbebe !!!!! :D

ANYWAYS DON'T BE SORRY LMAO i just sent a long paragraph about how much i love and respect mx HHH we are on the same wavelength <3 but i hope you've had a nice day angel !!!!!! <3 love u !!!!!!

[buckyssoul]

Sweeter Than Syrup

Paring: SamBucky x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3,425

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: polyamory, sexy times (a dumb amount of dirty talk), a little bit of a praise!kink, my general foul language, also an abundance of pet names (I have absolutely Zero self-control okay,,)

Summary: just a cozy day in with your boys,,, breakfast, cuddles, oh and a hella explicit threesome. fr it’s like 85% smut, im so sorry hhhh.

A/N: HEY!! I died for like a year. But I’m back now with renewed inspiration thanks to the sambucky show (: also huge shout out to @empyreanwritings​ for beta reading for me. I don’t know what i’d do w/o you, steph. ilysm <3

Bucky was pulling the last of the French toast off the skillet when he heard you and Sam walking down the hallway to the kitchen of your shared floor at the Avenger’s compound. He smiled when he heard your harmonious laughter as you came through the doorway.

“Hey, Bucky” you smiled as you walked over to him swiftly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and placing a delicate kiss on the tip of his nose. “It smells delicious in here” you sighed happily.

He smiled warmly and placed his hands on your hips, “Hi, baby” he replied softly as he leaned in to kiss your lips. He pulled back sooner than you would have liked and smiled at you with nothing but love in his eyes. “You guys are back just in time, everything’s ready.” He pecked your lips once more.

Sam came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, squishing you between your two beautiful boyfriends. He kissed your neck softly from below your ear down to your shoulder causing a tingle to go down your spine. He then leaned forward, squeezing you between them more in the process. But you didn’t care, in between Sam and Bucky’s arms was your favorite place to be. He kissed Bucky softly on the corner of his mouth, “Hey Buck, we missed you” he smiled happily at the soft puppy looking man.

“You dorks were only gone an hour” he chuckled lightly, smiling as his heart warmed being so close to the two loves of his life.

“Which is 59 minutes long enough to miss you” you replied with a genuine warm smile as you leaned in to kiss his dimpled chin.

Sam pulled away first, turning around to get the plates, cups and silverware out of the cabinets to set the table. You gave Bucky one more soft kiss on his plushy pink lips before going to get the butter and drinks from the fridge. Bucky smiled to himself, wondering how the hell he got so lucky. He grabbed the syrup from the pantry as well as the French toast from the counter and made his way to the table where you and Sam were already sitting. Sam poured himself a glass of orange juice then he handed the bottle off to Bucky knowing that’s what he would want too.

“Here, baby. You want some?” Bucky asked lifting the orange juice bottle toward you.

“You know my girl loves her chocolate milk, Buck” Sam jested and winked at you.

“You’re ridiculous,” you couldn’t help but laugh and shake your head at him, “You’re right though, I do love me some chocolate milk.” You winked back at him as you grabbed the half gallon and started filling your glass.

You filled your plate first and started to dig in before either of the boys. A deep moan erupted from your throat, “God Bucky, this is so fucking good,” you sighed as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Bucky and Sam locked eyes smirking at each other, which you missed being lost in the wonderland that was Bucky’s French toast.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it, sweetheart” he gave you a cheeky smile.

“I’m glad too,” Sam smirked.

After breakfast was done you all found yourselves in the living room. Bucky was lounging on one side of the couch and Sam was on the other, they liked to have you sitting between them. You went to sit down on the middle cushion, but Bucky grabbed your arm and pulled you into his lap before you could sit all the way down. You squeaked as you fell ungracefully into his strong arms. He pulled you close to his body and began planting light kisses all over your face.

You were giggling uncontrollably, “Bucky, stop!” you laughed harder as his fingers started to tickle your sides.

“I’ll save you baby!” Sam shouted as he grabbed your legs and dragged your body to lay between them. Your head was now in Bucky’s lap as Sam crawled up to lay between your legs. He wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his head on your breasts, “Ah, my favorite place to be” he sighed as you chuckled at him, chest still rising and falling heavily from trying to catch your breath.

Bucky ran his fingers through your hair, you looked up at him and smiled softly before relaxing your head back down and letting your eyes fall shut. You brought your hands up to begin rubbing Sam’s toned, muscular back. His eyes fluttered closed as he relaxed further into you, letting himself take in this moment with the two people he cared about most in the world. Bucky looked at you both, smiling to himself, he was so in love.

You released a soft moan as Bucky started massaging your scalp. Sam’s eyes shot open at the noise. He looked up and his eyes immediately locked with Bucky’s. They shared a smirk with each other again. They loved the sounds you always made for them. Sam slid his hands up your sides and slowly started massaging your breasts. You let out a higher pitched whine and heavy sigh at his ministrations.

Sam sat up so Bucky could tug your shirt over your head while he tugged off your jeans, you didn’t protest. Both of them took in your appearance, your soft skin on display for them only covered by your thin black lace bralette and matching thong. Sam, still sat up on his knees between your legs, started to massage up your thighs while Bucky reached down to toy with your pebbled nipples through the fabric of your bra.

“So soft and warm for us, angel” Bucky hummed lowly as Sam lightly rubbed his thumb over your clothed clit.

You arched your back up at their gentle touches, silently begging for more friction.

“You’re so pretty, love” Sam praised you, voice barely above a whisper, as he pulled your thong off. He leaned down to put his mouth to work on you, but you stopped him by planting your foot against his chest gently.

“You two are wearing far too many clothes” you smirked and raised an eyebrow at him daring him to test your patience. You rolled off the side of the couch to your feet and turned to face them, waiting for them to lose their clothes. They stripped faster than you’ve ever seen them do so before, both of them left in just their boxers within seconds. Without speaking you gently moved Sam by his shoulders, so he was laying on his back in the middle of the sofa. You leaned down to kiss him, moaning when he pushed his tongue into your mouth, you could still taste the syrup lingering on his tongue from breakfast.

You pulled back with a soft smile, “I can think of somewhere else I’d like that tongue to be” you chuckled as he nodded enthusiastically.

“Ain’t gotta tell me more than once, baby” he smiled as he tugged you by your hips to straddle his face. You sighed in immense pleasure when his warm lips wrapped around your clit.

You looked over to see Bucky with his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, slowly stroking his shaft as he watched Sam eat you out, eyes hooded, tip of his cock red and weeping, begging to be touched. You salivated seeing him standing there, naked and needy.

“Come here, baby” you motioned for him to join you on the couch. He came and rested on his knees in front of you. You pulled your bralette off, tossing it to the other side of the room.

You grabbed Bucky, lacing your fingers through the silky hair at the base of his neck and pulled him to you connecting your lips, he brought his flesh hand up to cradle your jaw as his metal hand started lightly pinching your hard nipples. The sensation causing you to moan into his mouth and grind your hips down on Sam’s face. Both of them took advantage of your haze, Bucky sliding his tongue into mingle with yours, loving the lingering sweetness on yours from the sugary breakfast you finished not too long ago. And Sam doubled his efforts-- grabbing your ass in his palms, massaging and squeezing your cheeks. You took Bucky’s throbbing cock in your hand gently and began stroking him. He growled deep in his chest, you smiled as you pulled away from his mouth, teeth nipping at his plump bottom lip.

Bucky stared down at you through his lashes as you lowered your head to take him into your mouth. You looked back up at him as you flicked your tongue out to tease the tip of his painfully hard cock. His whole body tensed at the sensation and his flesh hand flew to your hair, lightly caressing your scalp as you took him deeper into your warm waiting mouth. His tip reached the back of your throat and you relaxed your muscles to take him in even deeper, using your tongue to caress the pulsing vein on the underside of his thick cock. You caught him off guard with the throaty moan you released due to Sam sliding two of his fingers into your soaking wet pussy, instantly finding your most sensitive spot. His lips sucked on your swollen clit, his tongue flicking over it rapidly. You tensed up and pulled Bucky from your mouth, replacing it with your hands, as you started breathing heavily, feeling your orgasm approaching quickly.

“That’s it, baby. Come all over Sam’s face, you know he loves your sweet pussy juices. Sweeter than sugary syrup. Come on, angel.” Bucky was encouraging you, stroking your jaw as you continued panting.

“Fuck!” You whined, “Feels so good Sammy, please don’t stop.” Your thighs started twitching uncontrollably..

Sam groaned as he felt your walls starting to constrict around his fingers, the vibration on your sensitive clit throttled you over the edge, hard. You came with a scream, gushing all over Sam’s mouth, he continued to lick at your overstimulated core as you came down from your high.

“So good for us, baby” Bucky cooed, pulling you up to his mouth to kiss your swollen lips.

Sam rolled out from under you and quickly scampered off to the kitchen. You melted into Bucky’s strong supportive arms, letting him cradle your weak body while you recovered from your earth-shattering orgasm. He kissed along your jaw to nibble at the spot below your ear that always made you moan and shiver.

“Oh, Bucky” you sighed into his neck. Bring both your hands up to run through his chocolate locks, you started kissing and nipping at his throat.

You felt his still hard cock pressing against your hip. You pulled away from his neck, leaned in to press a short kiss to supple lips before whispering, “I want you both to fuck me, Bucky.”

“You know we’ll give you whatever your heart desires, sugar” he smirked, “All you gotta do is ask” he finished leaning in to kiss you once more.

“Absolutely, babydoll” Sam agreed as he came back into the room with a glass of ice water. “Drink up” he said handing the glass of water to you. “We aren’t done with you yet.”

You took the glass and chugged the whole thing, thanking Sam with a kiss as you walked back to the kitchen to place the glass in the sink.

You walked back into the living room to see your boys kissing and gently stroking their still hard cocks. “I’ll be waiting in the bedroom for you when you’re ready, boys”

They slowly broke their kiss and followed you to the bedroom. When they arrived, you were sprawled out on the satin sheets of your king sized bed. They stared at you for just a moment, taking in your gorgeous form. Your eyes shut, hair laying around your head like a halo, bottom lip trapped between your teeth, whimpers escaping you as your fingers massaged your sensitive clit. Your other hand pinched and caressed your breasts, your pussy dripping already with arousal.

“You’re stunning, angel” Bucky mused, voice rough and thick with need.

“An absolute vision” Sam agreed.

Bucky approached the bed, wasting no time crawling between your legs and licking up the juices dripping from your cunt. You released a high-pitched breathy sigh at his actions. Sam crawled up next you on the bed giving your soft breasts some attention with his smooth lips and warm tongue. He swirled his tongue around one before closing his lips around it and sucking on it gently. He alternated between them, showing each nipple equal amounts of attention. Bucky was doing the same to your swollen clit, his lips wrapped around it gently sucking and massaging the sensitive nub with his velvety tongue.

“Mmmh, so good to me boys” you sighed. They both hummed, keening at your praise. “I love your mouths, so careful and tender for me” you continued. You reached down wrapping one hand around Sam’s cock, stroking him slowly. The other hand you tangled in Bucky’s hair, gently caressing his scalp. “That’s it, right there, Buck. Make me come, baby” you whimpered when he slid one cool metal finger into your warm fluttering walls.

“You’re so good for us, darlin” Sam cooed, kissing up your chest and throat until his lips sealed around yours swallowing your moans. You began to stroke Sam’s cock faster as your orgasm approached, the coil in your stomach winding tighter every second.

“You wanna come again, baby?” Sam asked, voice thick with desire “You wanna come all over Bucky’s face too? Let him taste that sweet pussy nectar?” His words were pushing you so close to the edge you could scream if your voice box knew how to function properly. “Come on, sugar. You’ve gotta get that pussy nice and wet for us if you want to take both our cocks,” he added, you whimpered at the thought. Bucky plunged his tongue deep into your pulsating pussy, bringing his finger up to flick rapidly at your clit, “Come Y/n, come on Bucky’s tongue” Sam demanded, his voice stern and gravely. And you obeyed, coming with a broken scream, hand squeezing and pumping faster on Sam’s cock, fingers gripping tightly at Bucky’s soft hair, thighs clutching around his head.

“That’s a good girl” Sam praised you, stroking your jaw as you caught your breath. “You look so pretty when you orgasm, princess” he added as he leaned down to softly kiss your cheeks nose and forehead.

“You really do taste sweeter than syrup, baby” Bucky mused, sitting up to wipe your juices from his face.

“I think I’m ready for both those gorgeous cocks now” you sighed after catching your breath for a minute.

Sam laid down on the bed and you leaned down licking at the little bit a precum already escaping his tip, his eyes rolled back in pleasure. You sucked and licked him softly a few more times before straddling his hips and rubbing him against your slick entrance.

“Oh fuck darlin, can’t wait to feel you wrapped around my cock” he sighed.

You sank down on his cock slowly, feeling every inch of him as he slid into your warmth. You moaned once your hips met his, feeling incredibly full. “You feel so good inside me baby” you praised him as you leaned forward to capture his lips with your own. You began rocking back and forth at a languid pace, enjoying the feel of his cock dragging along your most sensitive nerve endings.

After a minute or so you felt Bucky’s hands on your hips massaging down you where you and Sam were connected. He gently wedged two of his flesh fingers into you alongside Sam’s thick cock, doing his best to ease you open enough to take both of them at once. You whimpered and slowed your pace at the intrusion.

“It’s okay, baby” Bucky reached up with his metal hand to gently caress your beautifully round ass, “just gotta get you ready for both of us at once. You’re doing so good, sweetheart” he praised.

You disconnected yourself from Sam’s mouth, whimpering and kissing down his jaw to hide your face in his neck, kissing and nipping lightly at the flesh under his ear.

Sam reached both his hands around you to rub up and down your sides slowly, stopping at your hips and coming back up to caress the underside of your breasts with his thumbs, “You feel so good, babygirl” he cooed. “Are you ready for Bucky to join us now?” he asked softly. You couldn’t respond verbally, so you just nodded ‘yes’ into the side of his neck.

“Okay, sweetheart” Bucky started as he rubbed his tip at your entrance. “I’ll go slow, tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” you just nodded again, holding your breath as he slid into you, next to Sam. You whined into Sam’s neck and Bucky stilled, about halfway in, “you okay, doll?” He asked with worry edged into his voice.

You breathed out heavily, “Y-yeah, Buck. Keep going, baby.” You reassured him after taking a few deep breaths. He pushed in the rest of the way, settling in easily due to your wetness. You were stretched to the max though, neither of your boys were small, and you were feeling fuller than ever before. “Please move” you begged after taking a few moments to adjust to their size.

Gently, the boys began to rock in and out of you in tandem. As Bucky pulled almost all the way out, Sam would thrust back in and vice versa. You began to moan and whimper unintelligible nonsense into the side of Sam’s throat, hands clutching at his muscular shoulders.

“You’re so wet for us, princess” Sam whispered, tone flooded with pleasure, hands still caressing your sides. You sighed happily at his praise.

Bucky sucked on two of his flesh fingers before reaching around to strum at your clit. You clenched around them tightly at the initial contact, letting out a high-pitched whine into Sam’s shoulder. “Fuuuuck baby” Sam panted, “Squeezing us so tight.”

“You gonna come for us a third time, babygirl?” Bucky teased and he rubbed your clit faster.

“Oh fuck” you whimpered, “Don’t stop, I’m so close” you panted.

“Come for us, baby” Sam grunted as he thrusted harder into you, he and Bucky both increasing their paces. “Wanna come for you sweetheart, but you’ve gotta let go first” Sam panted, his release nearing as well.

“Gonna fill you up with our cum” Bucky added, “but you have to come for us first babygirl, come on” he begged.

A few more flicks of Bucky’s strong fingers against your swollen nub and their cocks pumping into you vigorously, stroking every inch of your sensitive walls, and you came with a strangled shout, gushing around them. Your warm, slick release and the clenching of your muscles around them sent both your boys over the edge. They came grunting and panting, mumbled praises of how good you are to them. You felt the warmth of them coating you and mixing with your juices. It was running down your thighs as they pulled out of you, leaving you feeling exhausted and empty. You rolled off Sam, eyes closed, breathing heavily.

Bucky came up beside you, brushing your sweat slicked hair back from your face. “Hey, honey” he whispered, “You wanna go shower off and take a much-deserved siesta?” He scooped you up in his arms when you lazily nodded ‘yes’.

You rested your head where his neck met his shoulder, pressing gentle kisses to his collarbone, “Love you, buck” you mumbled in a sleepy haze.

“I love you too, babydoll” he smiled and kissed your forehead before gently setting you on your feet in the shower between himself and Sam.

“Mmmm, I love you Sammy” you cooed leaning in to give him a soft kiss under the warm stream of the shower.

“I love you too, sweetheart” he kissed you back softly.

The boys took their time washing you and themselves before helping you out of the shower and drying off. Sam carried you back to bed, and you cuddled up with your two boys under the thin sheet of your bed, drifting off to the feel of three soft hands on your body and one smoothe cold one.

*~*~*

I hope that was alright for a coming back from the dead piece. Thank you for reading!!

Tags: @wintersxsoul​ @barnesnroses​ @emilysallysmith​ @gennyld-blog​ @velvetbarnes​ @hiddles-rose​ @writingsoftheloser​ @legendaryloki​ @wolfsbucky​ @namebydot​ @geeksareunique​ @if-n0t-l8ter-when​ @snuggleducky​ @prettybabyboyjay​ @empyreanwritings​ @krystallynx​ @netflixa​ @loricameback​ @suz-123​ @buckys-cherry​ 

*not on my list but might be interested in reading: @sebs-nose​ @versdan​ <3

[tickly-trashcan]

A Twisty Game

Summary: Midoriya and Shinsou are bored, so they decide to play a board game to lift their moods. But what happens when one of them loses?

Word Count: 860 (drabble)

Rating: Mature

A/N: This was my first submission for ShinDeku Month 2020! go check out their tumblr @shindekumonth, its gonna be really fun and theres plenty of prompts!

Midoriya sat cross-legged next to the coffee table, pencil in one hand and Shinsou’s hand in the other. He scribbled down his homework for general studies as Shinsou began to nod off, the only thing keeping him awake was the warmth from Midoriya’s hand and the album of cat photos he was scrolling through on his phone. 

Midoriya groaned and set his pencil down, rubbing his eyes. “Shinsou, I’m bored! Wanna do something fun?” 

Shinsou nodded his head, grinning. “Let’s go get a cat.”

Midoriya laughed and shook his head. “I’m not ready for that responsibility. Besides, if we got a cat you’d forget about me!” Midoriya leaned into Shinsou’s chest, looking up at him. Shinsou planted a gentle kiss on his forehead and ruffled his hair playfully.

“Why don’t we play a game?” Shinsou asked, pointing at Midoriya’s cupboard of games. They often resorted to spicing up board games by throwing in a little stripping or punishments, so it would be perfect to ease the shared boredom between them. 

Midoriya smiled excitedly and ran over to the cupboard, pulling out a game they hadn’t played together before.

He laid the Twister board out on the floor, pressing out the crinkles and setting up the spinner next to him. Shinsou spun first and placed his left hand on a green circle. Midoriya followed in suit, placing his right hand on a yellow circle.

Their faces were close enough to feel each others breath, and as Shinsou leaned over to spin again he kissed Midoriya’s nose, making him flush a slight pink. Shinsou slid his left foot to one of the blue circles, inching even closer to Midoriya. Midoriya gulped and spun himself, reaching over Shinsou to reach a green circle. 

As the game continued, they were put into numerous awkward positions, but they were both much to stubborn to give up. Shinsou wanted to win, and so he decided to resort to one of his favorite torture methods for his boyfriend.

Midoriya reached over Shinsou to place his hand on red, and he was spread completely across the board as Shinsou was tied up in his own arms and legs. He spun again and began to move his hand to blue, but before he did he quickly reached up and spidered his fingers up and down Midoriya’s side.

Midoriya gasped and wiggled around, giggles pouring out of his mouth as he tried desperately to hold his position. “Shinsohohou, stop it that’s cheating!!” he giggled, worming away from Shinsou’s hands.

“Yeah, that’s like the whole point.” He chuckled, placing his hand down on blue.

Midoriya grumbled and spun, and started to move his hand back over to green, folding across the board. Shinsou spun and had to put his hand to green as well, placing it on the circle right by Midoriya’s foot. As Midoriya reached to spin again, Shinsou stretched two of his fingers out to stroke up and down Midoriya’s arch. 

Midoriya huffed out a laugh and slammed his elbow down to catch himself from the surprise attack, looking at Shinsou to see him smirking cockily back.

“You’re so mehehehehean!” He tried to reach under to swat at Shinsou’s fingers, but because of his already precarious position, he tumbled down, losing his balance. 

Shinsou laughed victoriously and nudged Midoriya. “Aww, I’m sorry babe, but it looks like you lost. You remember what happens when you lose right?”

“Shinsou, that wasn’t even a fair game! Don’t you d-”

He was quickly cut off by Shinsou drilling his hands into his sides, causing him to burst out into laughter, swatting at his hands in a very sad attempt to get Shinsou off of him. Shinsou wiggled his fingers higher and wedged them under Midoriya’s arms, making him squeal and arch his back.

“You’re laugh is so damn cute, Midoriya.”

He tried to make a retort but before he could, Shinsou moved his hands downwards, one squeezing his hip as the other pinched the sensitive flesh of his tummy. Midoriya shrieked and pushed at Shinsou’s shoulders, shaking his head from side to side. Shinsou leaned his head down and nibbled up Midoriya’s neck, giving him zings of tickly sensations that made his laughter reach an even higher pitch. 

Shinsou’s fingers continued to wander, and they soon grew fond of swirling around Midoriya’s navel rhythmically, making Midoriya kick his legs out in frustration as he laughed. Shinsou pulled back and gave Midoriya a slight chance to breathe, his hand rubbing his stomach as he stared down at him. 

“Wanna go for another round Zuku?”Shinsou queried, a small smirk on his face.

“Not if you’re gonna ti… do that again!” Midoriya exclaimed, flustered. Shinsou chuckled and gently pet Midoriya’s hair, his fingers lightly dancing on Midoriya’s jawline. Midoriya pouted and reached his hand up to pull Shinsou down for a kiss, something he felt he deserved after enduring that torture. They both melted into it, Midoriya sitting up so he could embrace more of Shinsou’s warm body. He placed his finger to his indigo-haired partner’s lips, scampering to quickly turn off the lights before returning to their intimate moment, Twister laying long forgotten.

Edit: im mad now cuz i was trying to edit one of the tags and the whole thing got deleted and hhhh but its fine now cant cry over spilled milk

[musicallisto]

🌘 Out of the Woods (Nik x F!MC)

not to be a choices stan on main but oh my god… the ending of nightbound… I cannot cope I can’t believe I got so attached to a bunch of pixels and some lines of dialogue. nik stans have been eating gourmet every single chapter for the last past months and I can’t believe it’s over. anyways, here’s a little piece inspired by the final scene with our favorite crew of Nighthunters (I WOULD DIE FOR THEM). seriously I love their dynamic and MC being a nighthunter with Nik for the rest of eternity? STAN, as the cool kids say

honestly I don’t even care if this gets like 4 notes I wrote this as a coping mechanism

also hhhh I haven’t written for months take it easy ok I never thought I would write again for PLAYCHOICES

word count: 2.8k words

summary: In which the endearingly ragtag duo and couple of Nighthunters Nik Ryder and Louise Jackson are on the tail of a murderous creature gone rampant in rural Louisiana, and have finally cornered the beast in the middle of the bayou.

warnings: fighting, blood

THE UNDERGROWTH SHIVERS. Buzzing with distant noises and the rustling of the wind in the leaves, the entire forest holds its breath. The very first rays of morning sunshine forcibly make their way amidst the large, lush entanglements of vines and mud-riddled trunks, and graze the ever-humid soil of the bayou.

Nik hasn’t moved in three minutes. Only his eyes dart around the dense clearing with the sharpness of a thousand blades, scrutinizing in silence the spot he and Louise have stopped at, following the evidence and eyewitnesses that have guided them in their hunt. Not a single passerby would notice the oh-so-slight curvature of the grass where he’s leaning, even if they stopped for a second and observed. He may not associate often with cops, whether they are of the supernatural kind or not, but the Paranormal and Magical NOPD asked for the very best of the best to deal with the unexplainable murder spree in the outskirts of town, and he’ll be damned if Louise and him ain’t the best at what they do.

Especially when the bounty goes ten-thousand up everytime a new mutilated corpse is found on a remote farm.

“You see it yet?”

Louise crawls to a better spot on his right. Chin deep in the dirt, she keeps her eyes fixated on the thick vines that frame the clearing. She always gets particularly fierce when they’re close to catching a monster. Is it her Fae senses that give her a premonition of what’s to come, or whatever magic fusing in her blood, he doesn’t know, but he sure as hell trusts her more than anyone. They’re close. It’s close.

“Nah. Still hiding. Not for much longer anymore, I hope… maybe we’ll have to drive it out.”

“How can a thing so huge be hiding in here? Its wings sure should have got stuck in the trees or something by now.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’d know a lot about logic regarding magical creatures,” he huffs, allowing the ghost of a smile to graze his lips.

He can’t detach his gaze from the scenery in front of him—he knows better than to leave a potential threat unattended—but if he could look at Louise, he knows he would see the characteristic playful smile that she can’t refrain whenever she remembers the events and revelations of the year before. They definitely went through a hell of a lot together.

Both their ears perk up at the same time. Their training has allowed them to recognize the sounds in the forest, in the murmur of the wind, in the singing of the waters. Most importantly, to distinguish whether they are of supernatural source or not. They exchange the subtlest of interrogations as they look at each other from each side of dark, large bush. Louise’s eyes are steel. Decided. Certain.

“It’s here…,” she mouths at him, before pointing at a direction he cannot quite see from his crouched stance.

Craning his neck, he pushes apart some of the vines, and there he sees it. Impossible to mistake with any other creature, the blood-red monster breathes heavily, ruffling the leaves in its wake. Hundreds of pounds of powerful muscle, sharp claws, lion fur and scorpion tail, the manticore seems to await something, maybe the misfortunes of a prey venturing outside of its den, although apparently unaware of the presence of the two Nighthunters.

“Ugly bastard,” Nik breathes out, taking in the colossal dimensions of the creature. Suddenly his crossbow and banishing spells seem a little derisory in the face of such an abomination, but he remembers he’s fought worse, and he has arguably the most powerful woman in the country alongside him.

“We do what we said, right?” she whispers.

“Right.”

She grasps her dagger, murmuring an incantation against the tip of the blade. From the corner of his eye, Nik can make out the start of a glimmer emanating from the weapon itself, a gleam she stifles immediately in her pocket.

“Don’t die,” she whispers before disappearing in the somber underbrush.

He nods, almost imperceptibly, and murmurs a distracted “You too” as he follows both her and the manticore’s movements in the vegetation. They both know better than to tell the other to be careful, and God forbid they promised they wouldn’t take any stupid risk. Taking stupid risks is a Nighthunter guarantee that has never been more true than with Nik Ryder and Louise Jackson.

Louise cowers through the branches, her loyal Nighthunter gear dirtied up to the neckline in the murk of the swamp, eyes fixated on the manticore that she’s circling from its ride. It shivers in the bushes, its enormous, vaguely human-like head scouting the forest for any sign of flesh. Her enchanted dagger quivers in her right hand as she holds her breath, swearing that the monster can hear the faintest of her heartbeat… she’s so focused on her impossibly discreet breathing that she forgets, for a single second, to watch where she steps, and the snap of a twig explodes under her foot like a cannonball inside her chest.

She’s completely frozen. Pupils not moving an inch. Lips half-parted. Whole weight of her body on her single right leg, spread out in an uncomfortable manner, threatening to give out. The manticore has suddenly perked its ears up, and is looking at the direction the sound came in. She’s not sure if it can see her from where she is standing unbalanced—she can’t think of anything other than the turbulent pouding in her heart—, but it’s as if these repulsive, yellow eyes, two rotten stones of sulfur, are piercing right through her soul, and—

“Hey, you abomination!”

She doesn’t think about it for a second. As soon as the manticore’s head snaps and searches for the source of the voice, finding it in the tall silhouette rising from the ferns, she gets on her feet and takes off running to get to her planned position; but she swears she’ll kill Nik for revealing himself and offsetting their plan, before she thanks him sincerely for stepping in and saving her, before she kills him again for yet again taking stupid risks.

Nik is standing still in front of the roaring manticore, his feet planted on the loose soil, crossbow leveled at the beast. His quick breathing follows the same rhythm as the palpitations of light emanating from the bolt readied on his crossbow. Louise can only watch him for a single second before she jumps back into her rapid progression through the branches; but the swift whistling resounding in her ears tells her that Nik has shot, and the crackling groan of the beast is enough to know that he didn’t miss.

But Nik can only congratulate himself on his true aim for a second, because with a disconcerting speed, the manticore, seemingly not bothered by the Holy Light crossbow bolt stuck in its upper leg, lies flat on the ground with a roar and brandishes its tail. The Nighthunter jumps to the side, but he’s too slow; a piercing pain traverses his right arm, tearing through the fabric of his jacket. His hand instinctively comes to the wound; a single thick, dark purple thorn is planted right in his arm, dripping black venom down his skin.

“Goddammit,” he spits, noticing in a split second that the creature has one scale less on its scorpion tail.

Impossibly thick cotton is slowly filling the entirety of his right arm, numbing it so much that he’s unable to lift his crossbow anymore. Dark droplets wet the forest ground. When he lifts up his head, the manticore is almost all over him; he barely dodges its three rows of teeth and shoots one more bolt with his weakened left arm. With a sharp whizz, the arrow tears through the flesh of the manticore and lodges itself into its neck; but in a second, growling like a thunderstorm, the monster has jumped onto the hunter and pinned him to the ground, deep in the mud. Nik expertly avoids every single gnash at his head, his own throat now covered in the sticky blood pooling from the manticore’s open neck, and he’s kicking and hissing and screaming and it’s like the whole forest is closing in on him and in the fetid breath of the horrendous monster and he’s struggling and tiring out and the beast manages to scrape the side of his cheek with its rotten teeth and—

“Hey! Get away from him!”

Yes, indeed, if Louise were to step in to give him a hand, now would be a pretty nice time.

Suddenly, the manticore gargles, muggy, crimson blood brimming over its lopsided mouth. Its sulfur eyes struggle for a few moments, grasping at the last remnants of life it can find, until it convulses one last time and it’s nothing more than a blood-red corpse with a single, shining blade protruding right between its two eyes, cutting across its skull.

Nik pushes the corpse off his body, breathlessly dusting off the dark blood and mud from his clothes, when Louise’s frame appears in front of him. She extends one hand towards him, offering to help him up; the other grasps the crimson throwing knife she used to kill the beast.

“Sorry I took so long. The Life Drain spell is always tricky to apply to blades. Are you okay?” she asks, concern evident on her features.

“… Yeah,” he laboriously pants, taking Louise’s hand to hoist himself up. “You… you’re getting really good at throwing knives.”

“Thank you. I’ve been training.”

“Yeah, I could see that…”

He groans as he stands up with difficulty, dusting the lapels of his jacket off with what little vitality is left in his injured arm. Breathless eyes and disheveled brown hair regain a semblance of footing in the concerned, and slightly reprimanding, posture of Louise’s silver gaze.

“Why did you call out to it? We had a plan!” she half-heartedly admonishes, fixing her own muddy clothes.

“You’d rather it killed ya?” Nik growls feebly, his head going dizzy as his consciousness weakens with each pouding of his heart, sending venom pulsing through his veins. “Couldn’t let it happen…”

“I’d rather it didn’t kill you,” she mumbles under her breath, before her features soften at the sight of the dark substance dripping from the protuberance planted in his skin. “Nik, you’re badly hurt! Wait,” she fumbles in her satchel as the Nighthunter rambles about “havin’ survived a lot worse’, “I have something to neutralize the poison. Lady Thalissa’s been teaching me this curating spell, and…”

She trails off for a few seconds, self-doubt crawling through her limbs, thick black vines of second-guessing wrapping themselves around the core of her heart. She’s never used the spell for magical poisons, only in the case of snake bites and venenous plants; and it would kill her if ever one of her rookie mistakes put Nik in even more danger.

“Well I can’t really show up to Red Cross with a damn manticore thorn in the arm,” spits Nik, his face contorting in a mask of unveiled pain. “I trust you, Louise. All this city would be six feet underground without y…”

The sentence dies in his throat, constricted by his intense anguish. Louise nods, resolute, muttering a dozen of nervous ‘yeah, yeah, alright’s to herself as she takes out an emerald-green, rectangular piece of flexible fabric, ethereal to the touch, that she rolls up around Nik’s trembling right arm, just above the bloodied prickle, with all the care in the world. He shudders, eyes tightly shut and teeth bared in a frozen expression of agony.

“Hurts like holy hell,” she thinks she hears him mumble through gritted teeth.

Slowly, deep breath after deep breath, slowly, her eyes closed, slowly, her chest open, slowly, her hands pressed on the remedy, slowly, Louise directs all of her thoughts to the black liquid, rapidly coursing through Nik’s body, mixing in his arteries with his blood, getting closer by the second to his heart. Slowly, just like Lady Thalissa taught her, slowly, just like she’s seen the Fae healers do in Lamrian, slowly, she draws every single drop of the manticore venom from his organs, commanding them to follow the very same path backwards, forcing them to retreat to the open wound in Nik’s forearm. Indeed the poison opposes more resistance than the venoms of spiders or wasps she trained on; Nik writhes under her hands, whimping quietly when the black fire scrapes his veins, his heart pouding faster, breathing galloping more and more, but she shushes him calmly, and as his lungs slow down the dark poison is hurtled out of his body much faster.

“I know, babe, I know. Don’t move.”

Maybe it’s the incredible tenderness in her voice, maybe it’s the pet name that’s unvoluntarily escaped from her lips for the first time, maybe it’s the placebo effect induced by the still-inactive Fae cataplasm around his arm, but Nik’s jaw unclenches ever so slightly.

When she’s absolutely certain that she has cleansed every last droplet of lethal mixture, she opens her eyes. Nik is drawing profound, shaky breaths, his mouth a little parted, lips crimson from being bitten, and Louise feels his powerful chest rise a bit higher, fall a bit deeper with every passing second. On his face lingers still the somber hold of the beast, but little by little his jawline softens, his chocolate eyes light up, his forehead smoothes out.

“Are you okay?”

Louise delicately removes the Fae bandage from Nik’s arm; its underside is completely soaked in a sticky purple substance, but as soon as it meets the air, the toxic puddle resorbs on its own until there’s not a trace left on the cloth.

“Yeah, I’m… I’m good. I’m better.”

Nik tries to extend and flex his arm, but flinches when the thorn, still buried in his skin, slides just a millimeter down his arm.

“That was… amazing, Louise,” he murmurs, observing his clean arm for a few seconds, then meeting Louise’s warm gaze with his immensely admirative eyes. “Thank you. I’m… really proud of you. And that was the most gentle I’ve ever seen you. Didn’t know you could be that tender,” he finishes with his characteristic sly smile, still holding his arm.

As soon as she feels herself start to blush, she turns her gaze away from his, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her flustered.

“I’m no med, so I can’t take out the thorn by myself, and I’d also advise you didn’t. You’ll still have to see a magical doctor. But when it comes to the venom… I took it all out. You’re good to go.”

“And here I thought you’d have to suck it out. Bummer,” he mock complains with a wide smile, before returning to his serious demeanor. “But really, Louise… thank you. I don’t know what I woulda done without you. Honest.”

And maybe it’s the adrenaline wearing off, the endless nights of hunting down the monster through fields and forests and assembling clues and testimonies, or just the sudden realization that they both almost died had it not been for the other, but they’re both overcome by a sudden, unfathomable fatigue that can only found solace in each other’s arms; and so they fall into each other, Louise’s head resting on Nik’s chest and Nik’s chin buried in her hair, Louise’s hands nuzzled over Nik’s heart and Nik’s sane arm draped over Louise’s waist.

“You did good, partner,” Louise whispers.

“So did you, Rook,” Nik sighs back.

And they stay here for God knows how long, breathing slow and deep, hearts beating in unison, two wild flowers intertwined in a long, cold night where only blossom light and hope when they stand together.

When the sun dares to pierce its way between the two lovers, hunters of the night and dark, Nik takes a step back.

“Well, we ain’t out of the woods yet. Literal and figurative,” he announces, his confidence regained like everytime he abandons himself in the comfort of his partner. “We still gotta take this body to the NOPD. Scoop the pot. Then preferably burn the hell out of this thing.”

“Because you know better than to leave corpses unattended, right?” Louise laughs to herself as she bends down to pick up the creature.

“Okay, Rook, that was one time. And there were five of us and none thought that a zombie we threw off two stories would come back the day after.”

“Maybe, but Katherine and you were so-called professionals, darlin’,” Louise continues to laugh as she hoists the manticore up, helped by an eyebrow-raising Nik.

“Are pet names a thing you do now? That’s twice now,” he smiles coyly, treading his way through the woods to the pair’s beaten hunting van.

“You wish, Ryder.”

[writings-of-a-narwhal]

hey friend! haven't chatted with you in a bit! tell me some more about your wizards?

ahhhh sorry this took me so long to get to,,,,i am,,,,bad at remembering to reply sometimes,,,,

but !! i’ve just got me some magic lads,,,,nothing too special,,,and i’m still working some stuff out!!

what i do know is that there are certain things that certain magic users are more inclined to some things vs others. (examples: Thistle finds healing magic easier than offensive magic; Snow finds offensive magic easier than healing magic; Sakura has an affinity to weird experimental magic relating to the elements; Harumi has an affinity for plant nature magic)

i also know that Seers have a difficult job!! they see the strings of Fate; those of the past, present, and future. for the most part, they learn to sift through which is which and when it’s happened or will happen. but in some cases, there are those who challenge Fate and when that happens, sometimes the string of Fate become tangled and what Fate planned becomes muddled with multiple options, so they have to guess which string to follow and what they need to do. 

and sometimes, Seers can have strong bonds with specific people (chosen by Fate or other means) and most of their visions are about that person!!

also:

magic can be lost. whether it be traded or bartered with when it comes to the magic plane and Fate, stripped by another magic user, or something else

yes, there can be some weird trades done with magic. still working on that.

once the magic makes its appearance in a person, it slows the aging process of the person, and the stronger the magic the person possesses, the longer they can potentially live, should they not constantly use their magic or wear themselves out.

magic has consequences. if you use your magic constantly, it’ll wear at you. slowly killing you. if you use your magic to do things that you don’t really have the ability to do, it’s very likely it’ll kill you

depending on your magic, you can strengthen it or you just learn different ways to use it

animals can have magic sometimes !! (see: shadow wolves) 

magic exists in everything, everyone, everywhere. you just have to look for it.

there’s probably a lot more by hhhh brain no work

[vintagemiserie]

hhhh more pirate au!!! its patrick struggling to continue being a good boy

The girl who was trying to talk to Patrick had a fancy, almost sparkly dress, and it was almost too much for him to take in. He didn't see any notable pockets, and the chain that clearly led to a pocketwatch wasn't anything Patrick wanted to grab at. After all, he already had six watches, and judging by the unpolished state of the chain, he didn't want that one. What did stick out to him was the pistol on her belt, which had polished, engraved silver on it, and Patrick was nearly salivating over it. Hopefully she didn't notice his fixation over how pretty it was, though, because if she did, then Patrick figured he'd never have a chance at nabbing it.

He glanced around the pub, curling his tail around one of his chair's legs. Even if he did really want the gun, it wasn't necessarily the first thing on his mind—mostly, he was thinking about Joe, who left the table to grab Patrick something without realizing that of course people would want to look at a mermaid regardless of whether or not Joe was there, and now he just had to sit there and let people gawk at him.

“Aye, you've a voice to you, fish?” The girl almost sneered. Patrick looked past her, trying to get the attention of one of the pirates. The girl stepped closer. “I heard you speak earlier, say something.”

“I—Oh.. okay..?” Patrick said. He finally made eye contact with the quartermaster, who looked at him oddly for a moment and then got up.

“Is that all? I'd've thought you'd try more.”

“Okay… sorry—s… sorry,” Patrick mumbled. She took another step closer, and Patrick realized he could grab at her holster without her being able to see. If only she didn't have a hand planted on her gun. “I'm n… not… I'm not good.. good talking. Not…”

“You sounded like you were speaking clearly earlier. Pests like you'd ought to know a bit, hm? Don't lie to me.”

Patrick had no clue what lying was, but considering the venom lacing her voice, he decided it wasn't something good. Her had moved from the gun, and since the quartermaster was coming over, he decided he'd better grab it soon. “I'm sorry, I'm not… I'm… I'm sorry.”

“Patrick, ye doing alright?” The quartermaster asked, thankfully coming up on the side opposite of the gun. She turned to look at him, and as she did so, Patrick pulled the pistol out of her holster as swiftly as he could and stashed it behind himself, barely looking away from the others. “Or is she bugging you?”

“I’m… I'm okay.”

The quartermaster nodded and sat down across from him. “Miss, if you'd please..?”

The girl left, and Patrick let himself slump in his seat.

“Ye looked nervous.”

Patrick sighed. “Yea. What… where... where Joe?”

“We noticed, walking in, a market stall with dragonfruit. Ye ever had that?”

Patrick shook his head.

“It's an exotic thing, you'll like it. He's buyin’ a few fer when we leave.”

Watching the girl pout and sit back down at her table across the pub suddenly gave Patrick a sense of guilt. After all, he was about to be rewarded, but he took her gun for no good reason other than just thinking it looked pretty and shiny. “Andy…?” He asked, hoping he picked up on who said who's names when the quartermaster and the captain's various conversations.

“Yea, Patrick?”

“I… I took…” He made sure the girl wasn't looking their direction, then set the pistol on the table. Perhaps it really was pretty, and the engravings were still nice and shiny, but he felt almost bad about it.

The quartermaster's eyebrows raised. “How the hell'd ye manage that?” He asked; Patrick shrugged and hid it again, squirming in his seat. “Well, I s'pose it's yours so long as she doesn't notice.”

“I… I get… dr… dra…?”

“Of course ye still get the dragonfruit, if that's what your asking. Not like I could stop Joe from giving it to ye, anyways.”

Patrick nodded and let himself catch his breath, starting to feel almost proud of himself.

[maxwellendowed]

Tag Game

I got tagged by @circuskingfeels

name: Amanda/Max

nickname: Mandy or Max whichever.

height: 5′7″

orientation: Straight, genderfluid.

nationality: English

favorite fruit: Cherries ;)

favorite season: Fall

favorite plant: OH GEEZ. Can I actually say on here....lmao ;)

favorite scent: Vanilla anything, also Thanksgiving Day at my grandparents house.

favorite animal: Always loved my monkeys :D

favorite color: Orange <3

tea, coffee, or hot chocolate: Coffee

average hours of sleep: Eh, summer daaaaaays drifting awaaaaay, UHM like 7-8 hours a night now lmao

dogs or cats: Doogs. Allergic to cats and they are usually demons.

favorite fictional character: *le sigh* I know Hugh Jackman doesn’t count because DUH he’s real, but ANY character he plays is my favorite fictional character and over the last few months I’ve watched a shit ton of his movies, soooooooooo Wolverine ;)

dream trip: Anything over seas, but this next summer me and a couple of buddies are going to Canada for the first time so I’m pretty excited about that :D

when was blog created: THIS BLOG? Geez. I’ve had it for a good 6 years now? I had one before this and it was my baby, but someone threw away my baby. And we all know that people throw away babies.....so!

number of followers: 313 WOO! I passed 300 not too long ago.

random fact: Wait, just like a random fact I know or about me? I’m SO CONFUSED. UH. THE PRESSURE. UUUUUUHM. SHIT. Shuler Hensley has been in three VERY different productions with Hugh Jackman :D If you don’t know who he is LOOK HIM UP! (I’m sorry that was the only thing on my brain. BYEEEE!)

Hhhh I don’t know who’s already been tagged in this thing so  don’t feel you gotta respond to this if you’ve done it already @flipflap-carlyle @nerdyvocals @addcolortomysky @napqueenmaxine @hugh-jackman-fan-girl

[princeandreis]

neighbors

I had this pretty spontaneous inspiration for a fluff thing where ev meets the reader in an au where he and heidi move away after the events in the musical

  A/N: hhhh um yea b l e a s e no judgement on this, I started and finished it at 1:30 in the morning

word count: idk but it’s l o o o n g because I CANT SEEM TO WRITE ANYTHING SJORTER THAN 1000 WORDS I (edit: 3315 holy sh) includes: angst, swearing probably, slow burn, Evan is probably really ooc I don’t even know pairing: Evan Hansen x reader

  ~~~~~~~~

  Moving to a new city was always stressful. Evan knew the feeling well. The lump in your throat as you said goodbye to your home, the clutter and discomfort in the new house, the unfamiliar streets; he’d seen it all before. He and Heidi had had to move several times when her job could not support them.

    He’d hoped they would be able to stay in one place now, since his mom had a steady job at a doctor’s office. But now they were moving once again, and this time it was his fault. He’d royally screwed things up with the only friends he’d ever known, and now Heidi thought it was best they both move on. Evan had left on good enough terms with Jared, but he wasn’t naive enough to hope to carry on like nothing had ever happened.

  So here he was, in a brand new city, hundreds of miles away from the place he’d come to consider his home. This town was a place full of opportunity. There was a nice community college he was interested in, and he’d find a job soon enough. He knew that here he could make a new start.

  And he was absolutely miserable.

  Evan missed his friends, even though he realized things wouldn’t have been the same after the Connor Project.

  He sighed, looking around at his new room. So far it was bare. The walls were a light yellow, which he liked. A little light peaked through the blinds in the fading evening sun. He hefted the box he was holding, set it down in the corner, and went downstairs to get another.

  ~~~~~~~~

  You heard the sounds of shuffling boxes outside and ran to your window to see. So the new neighbors were finally moving in. You watched the movers gradually unload the U-Haul truck for awhile, and finally they drove away. A woman in scrubs and a boy about your age were hauling boxes into their new home. You wondered vaguely what the boy was like, and if you would ever be friends.

  Whatever. It didn’t matter. People were all the same, anyway. Just as you were turning away from the window, your mother called from downstairs, “[Y/N]?”

  “Yes?” you yelled back. “Would you take these cookies next door and see if they need any help?” You rolled your eyes. “Why don’t you do it?”

  “Sweetie, I’m working right n– oh, would you just come downstairs?” she called again. You sighed and clomped into the living room, where your mother was sitting on the couch, typing on her laptop. She looked over at you. “Babe, like I said, I have to work, or I would definitely go over there myself. But my boss is going to kill me if I miss my deadline again.” Your mom was an online columnist for the local paper.

  “Would it really be so hard?” she asked, trying to hold your gaze. “All you have to do is bring the cookies over, ring the doorbell, and introduce yourself and offer to help them move in.” You twisted your silver bracelet, a parting gift from your dad. “Mom, this might sound surprising to you, but that’s more than some people can handle.” She leaned over to brush the hair out of your eyes. “Sweetie, I know things have been rough lately. And I’ve tried to give you some time to recover. But at some point, you’ll have to get back out into the world and try to live again. I know it feels like nothing will ever be the same without Dad. I feel that way, too. But we have to keep trying to live our lives, even when somebody we love leaves us.”

  Your eyes watered, and you quickly turned away to make it stop. You didn’t like thinking about Dad. Dad, with his prickly brown beard and his eyes full of laughter. Dad, with his big deep voice and his compassion. Dad, with his strong arms holding you tight. Until he was too weak to lift them, smiling tiredly at you from the hospital bed. And his eyes, once so alive and full of wit, now slowly closing one last time…

  You scrubbed at your eyes and wiped your nose hurriedly. Mom couldn’t see you crying. She’d worry even more if she knew how strongly your Dad’s death had affected you. It had been long enough, but it seemed like nothing without him would ever be right. Your world had gone completely dark after losing him, and you couldn’t imagine recovering from such a heavy blow.

  You snuffled and turned back around, sure your eyes were red. If she wanted you to socialize, then so be it. “Where are the cookies?”

  ~~~~~~~~

  Evan was setting down a box marked “Kitchen supplies” when the doorbell rang. He froze. “Mom?” he called. “What?” came a muffled response from Heidi. He tiptoed into her room, where she was busy sorting clothing into piles. “There’s– there’s someone at the door.” he whispered, feeling petrified. The doorbell rang again. Whoever was there was getting tired of waiting.

  Heidi looked at her son. “Sweetie, you’re going to have to step out of your comfort zone a little bit and get to know some people. Meeting your neighbors is always a good start. Now, shoo!” And with that, she gave him a little shove toward the front door.

  Evan stumbled over and opened it. He stopped cold when he saw who was there. A girl, holding a plate of cookies. A very, very pretty girl. He felt his face grow hot as she snapped her gum and half-glared at him. “Hi, I’m Eban. I meap, mean, Evan. Evan.” He mumbled, flustered. He’d fallen in love once and he knew what it felt like. Now it was happening again.

  She rolled her eyes a little and held out the plate of cookies. “These are for you and your mom,” she said. “My mom baked them and made me take them over here. She thinks I need to learn to ‘socialize.’” Evan shifted a little, taking the plate of cookies nervously. Who was this girl?

  “My mom thinks that about me,” he said. “What’s your name?”

  “[Y/N]. [Y/L/N].”

  “[Y/N].” Evan repeated. “Nice name.” “Thanks, I made it myself,” she replied sarcastically. There was a small pause as he tried to figure out how to respond. “I’ll see you around, Evan. Enjoy the cookies.” And with that, his neighbor stalked off across the lawn, narrowly missing Heidi’s unplanted peonies.

  What a character, Evan thought to himself. And he turned and went back inside. In spite of himself, he blushed. She really was pretty, even if she had a terrible attitude.

  The next morning, Saturday, Evan was shaken awake by his mother. He had a job interview, since Heidi needed him to help support the two of them, at least for a little while. “Evan,” Heidi said urgently. “You’re late for your interview.”

  Evan shot out of bed. “Shit, shit, shit,” he whispered, looking for some clean pants. His mother said, “I’ll make you some coffee you can grab on your way out. Hurry!” and she rushed downstairs as Evan slipped on some jeans and mismatched socks.

  5 minutes later he was out the door, coffee in hand, hustling toward his car parked on the curb, when he slammed straight into someone. It was you. You’d been taking out the garbage in your pajama shorts and tank top when Evan, in his hurry to leave, didn’t see you and collided with you. “[Y/N],” he gasped. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to bump into you, I just, I’m late for an interv- interview, and I j–” He stopped. You were already walking away.

  ~~~~~~~~

  Why had you walked away from Evan? It had been two days and you still weren’t really sure. Maybe it was because you were in your pajamas and looked awful. Maybe it was because you hadn’t been expecting to see him. Or maybe it was because you were entirely caught off-guard by his eyes. His enormous eyes… they were so blue and innocent. You could fall into those eyes if you didn’t watch your step.

  His eyes had flooded into you, making you wonder again what type of person he was, and if he would ever reach out to be friends. You didn’t like the intimate level of eye contact, since it made memories resurface. You didn’t like to remember. You didn’t like to feel. And somehow, in an instant, an accidental collision, he’d made you do just that.

  Somewhere inside you regretted being so rude to Evan, but you had to protect yourself. Any time you let others in or cared about someone, you got hurt. The person you’d loved most in the world was your dad, and look what had happened to him.

  Your dad would have loved Evan. He was extremely perceptive. He’d probably have your neighbor all figured out by now. You knew Evan was quiet and shy, and your dad had been that way, too. They probably would have had so much to talk about, everything from politics to trees to peanut butter and everything in between.

  You shook yourself. Why are you thinking about Dad? you scolded yourself. It doesn’t do you any good. So stop it.

  Evan was a safe subject to think about, more or less. You were curious about his mom and what his house looked like and if he had a cat and suddenly, you were seized with a desire to know everything about him. You couldn’t trust him (or anyone), but there was no harm in learning about him. Right?

  You meandered over to your bedroom window. It was Monday morning, two days after the trash incident. How did Evan feel? He probably hated you. Peeking cautiously through your blinds, you saw him. He was watering a few small potted plants on his windowsill, and his mouth was moving. Was he singing? Struck with an overpowering curiosity, you moved to open your window just a crack to listen.

  He was singing. His voice was a little reedy and so soft you could barely hear, but full of sweetness. It was a folk song you vaguely recognized, but you couldn’t put your finger on the title.

  “Through the forest down to your grave, where the birds wait and the tall grasses wave. They do not know you anymore…”

  Evan paused, looking up, and saw that you had been watching him. “Nice voice,” you called. “Color me impressed.” He turned beet-red and wiped his hands hurriedly on his jeans. “Thank y- thank you, [Y/N],” he stammered. “How long were you watching me?”

  “Not long,” you lied. There was an awkward pause as Evan shifted and set down his watering can. “So…”

  “So…” You swung your legs out and sat on the windowsill. “What song were you singing? It sounded really familiar.” Still flushed, Evan kneeled in front of his window to talk. “Tiger Mountain Peasant Song.”

  Now you remembered. “Oh, that’s Fleet Foxes, right?” He nodded and bit his lip. “Do you like their music?” You admitted not listening to them in a few years. Evan looked up and smiled shyly. “You should definitely try it out again. Their first album is their best one.”

  “Alright, I will,” you promised. “It’ll change your life.” “Oh, yeah?” “Yeah.”

  Another pause.

  A bird chattered from a tree nearby.

  “At least, I think so. I mean, um, I mean, if you don’t like th–” “Do you want to just come over?” you interrupted. “Talking like this is weird.”

  Evan looked surprised but tried to cover it up. “Uh, yeah, o-okay, sure, that sounds good. Totally.” “Okay.” You stood up. “Come over in five minutes.” And you shut your window.

  ~~~~~~~~

  Was this real? Was Evan really about to visit [Y/N] and… hang out? He really couldn’t believe his luck. Already his hands were sweating like fuck, and he hadn’t even left the house. He pawed through a box of his CDs, looking for “Fleet Foxes.” There it was, among some Broadway soundtracks (“Legally Blonde” and “Les Misérables,” to name a few) and a John Mayer album. He really needed to unpack soon.

  Evan headed downstairs, CD in hand, wondering if he should bring something over. Coffee? Everyone liked coffee. Right? “Mom?” he called out.

  No answer. Of course. She was at work. It would be dumb to bother her with that kind of question, anyway. So he quickly fixed up two thermoses of hot English Breakfast coffee and headed out, locking the door behind him.

  Shaking, Evan shuffled up the sidewalk to [Y/N]’s house and rang the doorbell. After about a minute, she opened the door. Goodness, she was beautiful. “Hi,” he said timidly. “Hi.”

  She left the door open and turned back into her house and went to the kitchen. Evan followed. She was busy rummaging through the pantry for something, seemingly ignoring him. “I brought some coffee,” he offered. When this merited no response, he added, “English Breakfast…”

  “How did you know?” she demanded. “Know wh -at?”

  She softened a little at how scared he looked. “That’s my favorite kind of coffee.” (Oh worm?)

  Evan glanced shyly at her. “Lucky guess. It’s my favorite, too, so I just thought…”

  She nodded. “It’s the best, definitely. So do you want a donut?” she asked, pulling a bag out of the pantry. He blurted, “What kind?” “What?” “I just wanna see something. Wha- what kind of donuts do you have?”

  She smirked. “Only the best.” At the same time they said, “Cherry iced.”

  Evan’s mouth fell open. “No way.” Raising an eyebrow, she deadpanned, “The plot thickens.” He laughed at that.

  [Y/N] set the donuts on a plate and sat down at the kitchen table across from Evan. He handed her a thermos and they each silently took a donut and ate. Evan was nervous, but somehow the quiet with her wasn’t as bad as it was with others. He got the impression that she was thinking. Her eyes were far away, her chin rested absently in the cup of her hand.

  Evan cautiously reached out and tapped her other hand. “What are you thinking about?” he asked. She looked up and her eyes focused again. “Nothing.”

  Silence.

  She looked over at Evan. “Sorry for what happened the other day. That was shitty.” He smiled feebly. “Yeah. Thank you, though.” She spotted the Fleet Foxes CD. “Shall we give it a listen?”

  Evan was really starting to like this girl.

  ~~~~~~~~

  You popped the CD out of its case and inserted it into the stereo in your living room. Soft, haunting strains of folk music floated from the speakers. You turned to Evan, whose eyes were sparkling. He really did love this album, and you could see why.

  As a song called “Blue Ridge Mountains” began to play, you sat with Evan on the couch. “So.” you said to him. “Mr. Just-Moved-In. Where do you come from?”

  He began to tell you about his hometown and Zoe and Jared and Alana and the Connor Project and everything else, until his breathing was labored and you could see tears welling up in his eyes. He was clearly still broken up about everything he’d done, and a part of him always would be.

  He sniffed hard and wiped his eyes on his sleeve, saying with a watery grin, “I didn’t expect for all of that to come out. I’m sorry, that’s a big burden to unload on you after we just met…”

  You shook your head. “No, it’s okay. I have a lot of baggage, too. We’ll just be emotionally fucked-up together.” He laughed, loud this time. It made you feel so good to make him smile, and you felt yourself laughing a little too. You chuckled again, and again, until you were both hysterically laughing at yourselves.

  Wiping a stray ironic tear from your eyes, you gushed, “Oh, we’re fucked up. We’re soooo fucked up, Evan.” He was still laughing a little. “Yeah. Yeah, we are.

  “Hey, what about you?” he asked. “What’s your damage?” You stopped laughing. “Oh, man, I don’t think so, bud. Not yet.” His smile faded. “Why not?” His eyes were fragile.

  You shook your head and ran a hand through your hair. “It’s too much to talk about right now. It didn’t happen very long ago.” He pressed a hand on yours gently, cautiously. “Neither did mine, [Y/N]. You’ll have to talk about it sometime. And I’m guessing your parents aren’t in the know about this, right?”

  You winced. Here we go. He pulled his hand back abruptly. “What is it?” he said, worried. “Did I say something wrong? Is this about your parents?” You nodded wordlessly, too distressed to speak. If you opened your mouth, it would all come tumbling out, and you couldn’t let that happen.

  Evan looked at you with concern. “[Y/N], you can tell me. It… it’s okay. I know we just met and everything but I’m - I’m your friend. I want to help.” You met his eyes, his huge, sincere, beautiful blue eyes, and in that moment you knew you had found someone you could finally trust.

  And so everything came pouring out of you, about your family and your dad, your best friend, and how his eyes were always laughing, and how they stayed that way even through the chemo, even through all the treatments and surgeries and pain; you told him about how your dad would wrap you up in his big arms and tickle your face with his scratchy beard and tell you everything would be just fine. And you remembered, breathlessly, the day the laughter left his eyes for good and his body relaxed and his monitors flatlined and…

  …and you found yourself sobbing onto Evan’s shoulder; Evan, whom you barely knew; Evan, who had betrayed everyone he loved, but who you still knew beyond a doubt that you could trust. He was stroking your hair as sobs wracked your body. You clung to his sweater and cried until you could cry no more, and then you snuffled and looked up at him.

  He smiled down at you and softly sang along as Fleet Foxes crooned in the background: "Your protector's coming home."

  “My mom has no idea how I feel,” you said. “I never tell her anything because all I get is a lecture.” He looked concerned. “[Y/N], you need to talk to your mom about this. There’s no way you’re gonna feel better until you get this figured out."

  "I mean, I guess."

  A pause.

  "[Y/N]?" "Yeah?" "Can I... hold your hand?" "Uhhh... okay." "Are you sure? Because I don't have to if you don't want to or if that would make you or uncomfortable or anything, I would totally get it if y--"

  You broke him off by reaching up and kissing him suddenly and quickly. You were surprised at yourself; you'd never done anything like that before. He made a surprised little "mmf!" but didn't pull away.

  When the kiss ended, his eyes were still closed and his eyebrows raised as if he were in shock. "[Y/N]," he breathed, his eyes fluttering open, "that was, uh..."

  "...nice," you finished for him. His cheeks were colored. "Yeah." He pulled you in for another kiss, deeper this time, but sweeter, too. Evan was better than anything you'd ever known.

  Could it be that he was sincere and could be there for you? It seemed the universe had given you a bit of luck at last. Evan could take care of you and help you through your heartbreak. You were ready to heal.

  Your protector's coming home.

[icantdanz]

Thank you again @tired-but-motivated lol. I feel the need to add a heart lol so Imma just put it in. <33333

(idk if I have to follow the format but I'm gonna lol)

1.) Nicknames

Danz, Ysh, Lou, Nielle, Yshalou, Bayots (Very creative use of my last name tbh) Plant, Table, Yshy-Fishy, and Satan (it only existed in 7th grade tho).

2.) Real Name

Ysha Louise Danielle (I've got 3 first names cuz my dad wanted me to have trouble filling stuff up).

3.) Zodiac Sign

Sagittarius.

4.) Favorite Musician (Recent/Living)

Spotify tells me it's P!ATD but I really like The Front Bottoms, Artic Monkeys, Grouplove, Cavetown, Dodie (and so many more but it would take too long to name them all).

5.) Favorite Sports Team

Not into sports. (Sorry!)

6.) Other Blogs

@uninteresting-table (But I don't remember the last time I used it lol).

7.) Do I get asks?

I got one once lol but I honestly didn't know what to do. I'm up for new ones but the answers will probs be awkward as hell lmao.

8.) How many blogs do I follow?

Lol 350.

9.) Tumblr Crushes

Tbh I never really understood the concept of crushes. Sorry(!)

10.) Lucky Number

13 cuz it's my birth day. It's both ironic and cliche.

11.) What am I wearing?

Clothes. (Lol a blue shirt and blue pajamas that I hike up cuz I hate the feeling of pants. The tag game caught me at a very 'unfashionable' time lol. (Ftr tho I'm constantly the least fashion coordinated person in a 10 km radius.))

12.) Dream Vacation

Anywhere quiet calming and quiet tbh.

13.) Dream Car

(I doubt I have the focus needed of a driver.)

Yes.

14.) Favorite Food

Any kind of soft bread.

15.) Favorite Drink

Milk/Caramel Milk Tea.

16.) Instruments

Guitar, Bass, Kalimba, and I kinda know how to play a bit of the ukulele (but I'm still trying to save for one). I have a keyboard lol but I've got close to zero idea on how to play it lmao. I also like to sing but it's very hhhh.

17.) Languages

I can speak English, Filipino, Bisaya (if that counts) and I can understand Waray but I can't speak it. (I hope to tho!)

18.) Celebrity Crush

Same answer as number 9. (Sorry again!)

Tagging: @listen-here-ya-lil-shits @beantodoroki @tragic-bi-magic @hiddentreaty @ima-lova-nota-fighta @killus-donuts-trashcan

Tag game!

Aight I was tagged by @artlyna , thanks!!! Im really bored today so thank you for givin me sumn to do~~

1) Nicknames

Hmm, there's; Mica, Ica, Ange, Angel, Bread, Milk

2) Real name

Angelica~ (but I prefer Mica) (demonica suits me more)

3) Zodiac Sign

Sagittarius

4) Favorite Musicians (Recent/Living)

Halsey, Lorde, Cavetown, PATD, The Cab, LiSA (I'm also into classical so I guess??? )

5) Favorite Sports Team

Oof. None.

6) Other Blogs

There's @distracted-sheep but I literally only have one post there and never use it:<

7) Do I get asks?

I used to. Not now tho, feel free to send me some.

8) How many Blogs do I follow?

Hold on... 450? *laughs nervously*

9) Tumblr crushes

I love everyone, but I most adore @icantdanz , @seouqi , @yeetji , and @trees-and-sky (My heart goes widbwjshwisbiwja when y'all post)

10) Lucky Number

76. God knows why.

11) What am I wearing?

Mint colored short-sleeve and white short shorts. It's so dang h o t here

12) Dream Vacation

Probably somewhere off to Japan or England? (But honestly I would set off better for some quite forest in the hills.)

13) Dream Car

I'm a bike person:)

14) Favorite Food

Spicy~noodles~

15) Favorite Drink

Green tea?

16) Instruments

Flute. Does voice count?

17) Languages

English, Filipino, Spanish and I can get a lil Japanese (but can't read/write kanji properly, I cry.)

18) Celebrity Crush

Neil Patrick Harris!!! (Of course) , Matthew Daddario and the entirety of the The Untamed cast.

Tagging: @yeetji , @icantdanz , @thirstyvolleyballhoe , @the-ultimate-oof , @olisrip , and anyone else who has the time to do this~