#there is dust every where all the time and it's messing with my allergies

[slightlyunconventional]

as a follow-up to my post where i mentioned a modern au/established relationship k/anej setting, i thought i'd make a list of snzcanons based around that 🤭 mostly k/az centric probably but we'll see if i get any i/nej ideas while im making this

ok here we. go

- caretaking between them when they live together is very different from the days in the slat; it's much more open and comfortable, and there's a level of vulnerability that both of them (mainly kaz, though) are able to show because they know there's much more safety and trust there than ever before

- continuing the kaz hayfever agenda purely to exploit it because inej loves to have plants all over their house and fill their garden with flowers. he's usually fine cause antihistamines exist but on the off chance that he forgets to take them, or they've run out cause he's so stupidly sensitive, then basically all hell breaks loose and he is totally unable to catch a break from sneezing his HEAD OFF. obviously from the outside this seems kinda dense of him because why doesn't he just,,, get rid of all the flowers?? but he doesn't want to because he knows how much inej loves them and loves gardening. plus he's fine once he takes his meds so realistically what's the problem

- look i know i keep giving kaz every allergy ever but just hear me out okay. if you hate me for it you can pretend each allergy he has is a separate universe. anyway what if the dreadful combination of dust allergy and detergent/air freshener/surface cleaner/etc allergy (select as applicable). just LISTEN RIGHT. he's sneezy because of the dust, so he and inej decide to CLEAN. but then he's SNEEZY AGAIN because of the cleaning supplies. boom who's a genius? me. (or an idiot. i haven't decided yet)

- maybe as a follow on for The One Above, i thought maybe kaz is only all sneezy and itchy during the cleaning process so once they're done and the scent of it all is out of the air then he's fine. that seems reasonable right

(also yeah ive decided that all these allergy headcanons are probably too much for just one person to deal with. so take them as individual things rather than A Collective. (unless you too hate it when a man isn't sneezing 24/7 in which case yeah let's bombard the poor guy with every allergy known to man ill pick you up at seven.))

- when kaz gets sick he still instinctively tries to shut himself away out of fear of getting inej sick too, and also cause he doesn't want her to "waste her time" taking care of him when he's "absolutely fine" and there's "nothing to worry about it's just cold in here". however every single time he's got a cold inej somehow manages to convince him to let her care for him.

- cats! kaz and inej are definitely both cat people and they definitely both wanted a cat immediately after deciding to live together. i like to think that kaz doesn't know he's allergic to cats (since he never really interacts with any kind of animal during his time with the dregs yk ??) so when they go to actually get a cat he discovers this about himself when he becomes an itchy sneezy allergic MESS. but he still insists that inej gets the cat because again antihistamines exist and he has a massive soft spot for cats so as if he's gonna say no. (thinking that they definitely get a fluffy black cat, maybe a younger one that's SMALL AND SO CUTE (i also have a massive soft spot for cats!! could you tell))

- more on the dust allergy a bit: inej and kaz go on little dates all the time and one time they pay a visit to an old library that inej has been interested in for a while, but obviously seeing as the library is so old, all the books are so so dusty and literally every single one that kaz picks up to flick through makes him sneeze like nobody's business. he'd probably be halfway through trying to quiet an itchy fit in the collar of his coat and inej would just take the book out of his hands and guide him by his shoulders away from the cloud of dust that he wafted into the air. cute

- even more on that kind of a sidenote he'd definitely not have the common sense to move from an allergen while he's in a fit, like he just gets too caught up sneezing to even think about maybe Stepping Away cause he just wants to get it out of his system and for whatever reason distancing himself from the thing IN his system doesn't actually cross his mind until inej just sort of guides him away

- inej's care is always very doting, gentle, and loving. she'll always ask before touching him, for example to feel his forehead and check for fever. often if kaz is especially tired (which happens often when he's sick, bless him) she'll offer to hold a bunch of tissues gently to his face as he sneezes or blows his nose into them. aw also definitely a reassuring hand on his back when he's wracked with fits of coughing during particularly bad colds

- she blesses every single sneeze. i KNOW she does. since kaz usually sneezes in doubles (ARGRGRHHHHH (sorry about that went fucking FERAL for a second)) he'll always get a cute little "bless you, bless you!" from her. she is so. i love you inej

- however if he ends up having fits that's a lot of sneezes to bless all of them so she usually settles for a "bless you!" at the end

- also i feel like she might do that thing where the way she says bless you mimics the sound/pitch of the sneeze do you get me. like for example "heHh'ehHSHHhiew!" from kaz gets a "ble-heh-shiew!" from inej. Do you understand the vision i hope i don't sound stupid. anyway kaz hates when she does this (but not like hate in a mean way he's just embarrassed like pls. i have a reputation)

- Omg and inej definitely loves to tease him and say how adorable his nose is especially when it's all red and he's just STOP PLEASE MY DIGNITY

- sorry im losing the plot

- inej tries not to gift him bouquets because 1. he's allergic and 2. there's probably already enough plants in the house. however. kaz buys HER bouquets because he's a gentleman duh. but obviously the whole time he's walking/driving/i don't know what bloody transport they have he's gonna be such an itchy sneezy mess and by the time he actually gives the flowers to inej his eyes and nose are practically streaming and it's all he can do to fight off sneezing again as inej kisses him on the cheek with a giggle to say thank you

- also i love the age old scenario of sneezing while shopping for scented candles!! inej getting excited about all the pretty floral and seasonal scents while kaz is just behind her sniffling so much and his eyes are watering and he is just praying he doesn't end up sneezing a load cause he doesn't want inej to be sad. when he DOES start sneezing though - starting with near silent stifles of course (but inej notices of Course) - he'll tell inej over and over that he'll be fine if there's just one in the house and he's only sneezing now because there's so many on the shelves in front of him

- a lot of this post is just different iterations of "kaz is very allergic but he wants inej to be happy so he keeps being very allergic"

- inej also buys & makes tea for kaz instead of coffee when he's sick. she also sometimes makes some suli tea recipes that she remembers from her childhood for him cause she is the best

- while a lot of her caretaking is tender and loving and doting inej also knows that kaz likes to have his space, so sometimes she shows her care in the form of a mug of steaming tea, two aspirin, and a sticky note saying "feel better soon" waiting for him at his desk

- kaz also hates getting sick in general just the feel of it is gross to him. it's partly because he doesn't feel in control of himself as much and partly because it just feels so sticky and heavy and generally unpleasant. on the bright side inej thinks his stuffy voice is so cute

- ill list off a few brief ideas for other dates they'd go on and kaz would find himself more than a little sneezy: picnic date!! or just a walk/hike in spring when his hayfever is thriving, a cafe date when he's got a cold! so cute, obviously dusty library date like i said before and probably a lot more but i ran out of ideas

- right i know this is definitely a lot of sneezing for one single person to be doing in their life so honestly take all of these headcanons as separate entities because i do not believe it is RIGHT or FAIR to subject someone to as many allergies as i already have and will continue to do. anyway photic kaz. for some reason i like to think that he always without fail sneezes three times when it's suddenly bright (like when he steps outside from a dimmer room or if something shines in his face) and always without fail also will gear up for a fourth sneeze that never comes. three sneezes, then a gasp, then a sigh. Omg

- his photic sneezes are also softer than usual too idk thought id just add that

- right this is the last allergy ill talk about for him REMEMBER HE DOESNT HAVE ALL THESE ALLERGIES AT THE SAME TIME CAUSE THAT'S MEAN OF ME. (unless you want him to 🤭) but perfume allergies are SO. HOT. he loves the smell of inej's perfume, it's sweet and floral and so distinctly *her* but each time she spritzes it on herself he's sneezing. usually not too much though, upwards of like, five, and then he's okay

- inej also massively chastises kaz for stifling. literally every time he does it it's basically a lecture of why stifling is bad and why it's fine just let it out its only me and kaz is like. ok sorry

- thinking about INEJ. i think that her sneezes are quiet just cause she's sort of taught herself to be stealthy and silent and that's rubbed off on her sneezes. they're cute

- also she sneezes into cupped hands!! idk i just think that's so cute for her AH

- usually only sneezes once at a time (she's not nearly as sensitive to stuff as kaz is) however i do like to think that kaz had a cologne at one point that he used to wear primarily cause he didn't have another one and couldn't be bothered to Get another one and it made her sneeze a lot!! and for a while she had no idea what it was because she just seemed to be sneezing nonstop whenever she was close to him. it wasn't until they were getting ready together one morning that she realised it was his cologne making her sneeze - when he sprayed it as she was stood near him and she just!! did not stop!! kaz probably felt so bad he definitely immediately showered and threw the cologne away and kept apologizing to her even though she repeatedly told him it was fine and how was he supposed to know

- kaz isn't quite as teasy as inej is so he'll only bless her sneezes once (loser) and he doesn't like to make an ordeal out of it so he'll just mirror her sneeze's quietness with a soft mumbled "bless," and possibly a hand squeeze if they're holding hands. JUST thought that maybe if she sneezes a little louder or harsher than normal he'll extend to a "bless you," (you know what i mean right with the emphasis on the you part you get it right)

okay this is all i have for now. i will add more/reblog with more if i think of anything but THANKS FOR READING YAY and thanks for making it the way to the end of the incoherent drivel that i call headcanons i hope you didn't lose too many braincells

[localluxuryclean0]

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[voidselfshipp]

Bloom in the Forgelands

Cw: injury mention.

>only mutuals allowed to reblog.

Summary:Muria the shaman,gets a visit of her beloved crush Jerico,Lady of secrets.

A/n: I freaking love her.

Muria stood there,Leaning on her staff and looking longinly to the Beauty of tri-stone. Magic flowed from her to replace her covered eyes, she smiles warmly as spring settles in.

Full Bloom across the forgelands is a beautiful sight to behold, she breathes in the still cool air and exhales as peace settles in her chest. Pollen and dust werent much of a bother to her,after all she grew herbs and medicinal flowers. But that could be said to poor Karn,who every spring has the worst allergies.

But its not that which breaks her from her pensive moment. No its a screech coming from her right, she turns as a female voice screeches-- MuuuuRIIIAAAAAAA!

She chuckles,shaking her head with endearment as her eyes fixate on the murder of crows that come flying at her at full speed. Its a mess of beaks,talons,feathers and dull green eyes.

They all gather on the floor and with a flash of Teal light there before her stands Jerico,Lady of secrets and child of the crowfather.

--Ah,always a lovely sight, Lady of secrets-- Said the chaman, turning to face them. She smiles and continues-- What brings you to the forgelands?

--Brought what you asked me-...What you asked Death to bring you--They explained,walking towards her while singing off their satchel that clinks with a myriad of things-- Frigid Dew from the Icy veil, Death Beetle Bones from the land of the dead, water from the drenchfort And...--They look up at the maker,seeing as her kind are very tall, and smiles shyly--I mean...death just wanted me to drop off the items...

Unconvinced,the maker tilts her head to see the fresh bandages that barely peeked from underneath the leather armor and feather and silk clothes of the person before her.

--You went yourself and picked them up...--She concluded.--How did you get the list from the pale rider?

--Tried asking,insisted,didnt work. Soooo I stole it, and he didnt even notice

--Heh. If anyone were to outwit a horseman,it would be you,Lady.-- Muria said,taking the satchel and putting it on--But I do believe I owe you a healing potion...

--Muria,its alright..

--I wouldnt forgive myself if I didnt pay you back,Lady. Your time is precious,just as you are

Jerico smiles sheepishly--Ah shucks...fine. fine..

The shaman grins--I believe I have some healing potions in my cabin,Perhaps you can stay for tea? Its almost time anyway

--Su-sure,thanks Muria...

Muria shook her head and gestured towards the set of stairs that lead down Tri-Forge and into Stonefather's valley--Shall we?

--We shall

In quiet chatter they walk down the Valley towards the cabin of the shaman, mundane talks about their lives in their respective realms. The spring sun is pleaseant on their skin,leaves blow by and ever so slowly flowers Bloom into being.

Eventually they make it to the shaman's cabin,cozy and ridiculously overgrown with herbs,plants and fruit trees. There are ponds that illuminate with a dull blue glow and theres stone pillars with carvings that also glow,but what jeri likes the most is the makeshift scarecrows. Theyre rudimentary In a charming way,crudely carved out of stone.

They walk down a small path,up the stairs and into the porch of the cabin,covered in moss and mushrooms. Then,Muria unlocks the door and lets them both in.

Within the cabin it smells like incense and a faint wet dirt scent,the fire crackles with an Orange glow and theres all manner of half done proyects from potions to amulets.

--Ill get you that potion,and then the tea--Muria commented,closing the door behind her as she stepped in.

--Sure thing, ill..ill go sit

--Feel right at home,Lady--The shaman said with a smile, before walking up the set of stairs that led to the second floor. They figured thats where her room and workshop was, and after that they go sit on the couch near the Fire.

Its a pleasing warmth,that has jerico sitting with their knees up to their chest and curling into a ball. They let out a pleased squak and the feathers in their outfit fluff up until they just look round.

Soon after Muria comes back with the potion,she drinks it happily and then the shaman does a gesture with her hand,a bit of blue energy flashes and then both hear the soft clinking And clattering of moving cutlery And utensils.

--Let me check those bandages,the potion should help regardless...--the maker extended her hands and the Lady of secrets shuffled closer,peeling off their armor until theyre only in their clothes.

Her companion is gentle as she unwraps the bandages,she sees the bruises and cuts heal up all around their arms, where the skin has thisdark purple ink . Theyre runes, much like the ones the Crowfather has tatooed on, and when theyre all complete they emanate a soft,almost unhearable humm,and a gentle purple glow.

--All healed up-- Said the shaman,before turning to the heavy bandage on the person's leg.

--Yeah..that one's tricky. My dad took care of it but...--They trail off as the maker rummages around her Many bags on her and goes to look for a mortar and some New bandages.--Its alright...

But the woman doesnt seem to hear her and when she has everything she needs, she begins to grind up herbs and plants,muttering some sort of incantation.

Soon after,Jerico has their leg bandages unwrapped and this green mixture applied upon the large gnash on their skin,she lets out a whinge At the sharp pain upon contact. Muria puts her hand on it,a lot more careful now,and with blue energy, the cut gets Mended bit by bit until its gone and the green mixture is nothing but ash that gets blown away.

Blue glyphs begin to burn themselves around the Lady's leg,they make up a Word "Haste". And then they go just a little Darker with a faint,faint glow of blue. Not blue like maker magic,but of ancient,ancient Power.

--You didnt need to--Is the phrase the Lady of secrets find themself saying more than ever.

--Nonsense,im merely repaying a favor--Muria insisted, taking her spot beside them once again--And I do believe its time for tea

A boiling kettle of Maker craftmanship and a few cups float with whisps of blue,setting on the coffee table before them. Then,a few pastries follow and settle down as well.

For the rest of the afternoon,both Just talk and hang out. Sharing anecdotes, silly jokes, tales of adventure and mundane stories of the every day. It was always nice to spend time with the Lady of secrets, warm as the sun and fresh as the Ocean,her enthusiasm And light were something the shaman really did love about them.

She had been...crushing on them for a few good years Now,it makes her blush just to think about how silly it is that she hasnt said anything about It. The feeling is clearly mutual but she never found the words to say it, she just hoped her actions talked louder.

And she also appreciates how cuddly they are,for she loves having them lay upon her chest while she hugs her waist with a gentle grip. For a being of the icy veil,Jerico was a walking heater and the shaman could use the extra warmth and the joy that she feels just existing in their vecinity is enough to make her chest Bloom with warmth like spring does with the flowers.

But eventually the sun does begin to set,the moon brings darkness and soon Jerico ought to leave. Not before Muria helps her put on all her armor,the close proximity making them both get just a little giddy with loving delight.

--Its a shame you must leave--Said the shaman as her beloved stands at the door.

--I can come by in a few days,i'd like to spend More time with you-- the Lady answered,a little sheepish but happy.

--I...I would love that--muria admitted with a warm smile that quickly Fades as her companion steps closer,standing on the tip of their toes to press a sweet kiss upon her lips.

She kissed back,hugging her waist Gently and leaning into their face. Soft,brief and chaste,both share just a moment of intimacy before they part to end their day in different ways.

When they pull back, Jerico smiles and goes to adjust the cloth around the maker's eyes,and slowly breaks the hug.

--Goodnight,Muria

--Goodnight,Jerico

When the Lady of secrets exits the porch,she becomes that cloud of beaks,talons And feathers with those dull green eyes glimmering with an unsettling Beauty underneath the moonlight that begins to replace the ochre light of the sun.

And with their departure, Muria finds herself missing her heart,for her beloved had taken it amongs their wings and held it within her claws with gentleness unrivaled. She finds herself staring longingly once more,but not towards the spring settled upon the forgelands...

But upon the purple Mass that flies towards the tree of life,back to the icy veil...

Still she worries,hoping her beloved gets there safe,that the cold doesnt bite at their skin and that her food is warm and tasty...

[cfxnote]

hello hello! i'm sarah in the cst timezone. it has been a minute since i've been in a group rp so pls bear with me and my lil babes. props to all of you with detailed backgrounds but both of my characters are new so ... (yes, i am a mess lol) anyway i'm here to love all of y'all and your characters!

(—) ★ spotted!! indira jones on the cover of this week’s most recent tabloid! many say that the 31 year old looks like kylie bunbury, but i don’t really see it. while  the media personality is known for being ambitious my inside sources say that they have a tendency to be bratty i swear, every time i think of them, i hear the song girl like me by jazmine sullivan {she&her / cisfemale} - penned by sarah, 25, female, she/her

I can't lie, I saw her gif and had to use her so.

Basic Information

Full Name: Indira Naomi Jones

Nickname(s): Indi, dee

Age: 31

Date of Birth: July 13

Hometown: raised in Arizona

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Orientation: Heterosexual

Religion: Raised COGIC

Occupation: Tv & media personality (think ryan seacrest)

Living Arrangements: with her dog

Language(s) Spoken: English, learning Spanish

Physical Appearance

Face Claim: Kylie Bunbury

Height: 5' 7"

Tattoos: n/a

Piercings: ears, cartilage

Clothing Style: minimalist with pops of color

Distinguishing Characteristics: N/A

Health

Allergies: bullshit, but realistically dust mites

Sleeping Habits: goes to sleep early, wakes up early, often sleeps 6 hours

Eating Habits: mainly pescetarian

Exercise Habits: often 2-3x a week

Emotional Stability: well would say 8 probably a 6

Sociability: forced extroverted introvert

Body Temperature: hot-natured

Addictions: chocolate

Drug Use: n/a

Alcohol Use: socially and every saturday

Favourites

Weather: overcast

Colour: red

Music: indie, soul, r&b

Movies: rom coms, documentaries

Sport: baseball

Beverage: iced latte with oatmilk and a pump of caramel

Food: filipino food has never done her wrong

Animal: otters

Family

Father: biological unknown, step father patrick monroe, 67, occupation unknown

Mother: caroline jones, 58, nurse

Sibling(s): 2 step brothers

Children: n/a

Pet(s): small poodle named rex

Family’s Financial Status: middle class

Extra

Zodiac Sign: cancer

Temperament: choleric

Bio

Indie never had dreams to end up in hollywood, her main goal was out of the U.S. - clearly she failed there

Her own mother had put aside her dreams of being an pilot when she was born. Caroline Jones was 26 with a newborn and her ass freshly kicked to the streets. By all definition she wasn't a teen mom, but she had been having an affair with a married man and shunned by her community.

Caroline moved from her Texas hometown to Arizona where a friend was offering a couch and a roof over her child's head.

For most of Indie's childhood, it was her, her mom, and Miss Martha, the woman who took them in. Although the same age as her mother, aunt martha was on all accounts the mother she needed.

Course her mother was in school for a lot of Indie's developmental years but even after that, her mother worked all the time and aunt martha did most of the raising. she was her discipliner, her cheerleader, and her confidant. everything the woman who gave birth to her was not.

She lost that the moment aunt martha got married. Indie wasn't exactly happy for her but she couldn't argue.

When Indie was 15, she and her mother moved to their own apartment.

At the new school, Indi joined the newspaper. Being forced to join a club so her mother could trust she was safe somewhere while she worked late.

She wasn't really a fan of the newpaper club, writing had never been her forte. When the media team came looking for help, she was a bit too eager to make the switch.

Being in front of the camera had been an easy adjustment. She had spent years putting on 'shows' for her aunt and she had the advantage of being a part of things without having to be part of it.

That was never something she saw herself doing for the future, it didn't seem like it would bring enough money, but it was something she continued in college.

Indie took her first chance to get away from home with college. Where she majored in business with plans to do something and minored in strategic communications mainly for fun.

While in her junior year, her mother got married. A wedding she didn't care to attend. Her mother still hasn't forgiven her.

Indi didn't enter the media world until she was 25, where she started as an assistant. It only took 2 years for her to become the face of the job she now loves.

Indi has been working as the main media personality for a big company for 4 years now. Red carpet interviews, hosting events, fashion takes.

Now she's looking to expand her portfolio, though she's not sure which direction.

to be continued

[dontfeeltoohot]

Steve gets a cold, Eddie takes care of him (in more ways than one), and tries to catch his boyfriends germs. - Set in my youtube au. 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI 4.2k

X X X

They spend the day lounging around. Steve has Sunday’s off, and Eddie’s lucky enough to have a pretty flexible schedule as long as he has no appointments for tattoos booked. It’s how the new couple finds themselves on the long haired man's couch, curled up under a blanket as Friday the 13th plays. They’re tangled up, legs slotted together and fingers intertwined. Eddie’s head rests on the barista’s shoulder as he sniffles and rubs at his nose.

“eiKSHHHuh! EHiiSHew!” Steve feels his cheeks warm up as he mists the top of his boyfriend's arm with the sneezes. 

His nose has been itchy since he woke up, and his first thought had been allergies, but as hours tick by, the shaggy haired man is thinking maybe he’s catching a cold, if the congestion and slight sore throat he’s starting to feel are any indication of what's to come. 

“Bless you baby,” Eddie murmurs, running his fingers through Steve’s hair. “You’ve been doing that an awful lot today, you feeling alright?” 

He has been doing that an awful lot. He’s sneezed at least a dozen times in the past three hours he’s been with his boyfriend. Maybe that customer that he’d helped that was sniffling and coughing hadn’t been just suffering from allergies. 

“Mm, think I might have c-caught a-snf! a cold.” 

Eddie’s eyes snap to his, widening slightly. Steve smirks, moving closer, rubbing his nose against the long haired man’s shoulder. He can feel the shiver that runs through his slender body, can see the goosebumps that start prickling on his skin. Oh yeah, he can have fun with this. 

“You can’t just say that Steve,” Eddie licks his lips, watching him. 

“But it’s true,” the barista plays up, giving a slight pout. “I feel all itchy, I can feel congestion starting to build up in my head.” 

The other man squirms, hand tightening just barely on his shirt. Steve sniffles a few times, still looking at his boyfriend, whose cheeks are dusted pink. It’s adorable, and though everything is still new, this is almost familiar. Maybe it’s from listening to Eddie’s wavs so much, or maybe it’s just Steve’s desire to both be taken care of and make the musician all flustered. 

“Poor bubba,” Eddie runs a hand through Steve’s hair and leans down, rubbing the tips of their noses together. 

Steve sniffles and moves his hand, pulling away to rub at the tip where an itch has started buzzing again. It tickles in a way that’s so close but so far off at the same time. His boyfriend holds his hand and they turn their attention back to the television. 

The rest of the day goes in similar fashion. Thunder and lightning boom and crackle outside, rain pounding on the windows. They move through The Exorcist, Sleepaway Camp, and then begin the Conjuring series. Steve’s never seen any of these, he’s not usually a horror guy. October to him means Hocus Pocus and The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown. It’s fun to steal glances of Eddie, who’s enjoying every minute of the movies. 

Except, now it’s 4:49 in the morning, and Steve’s lying awake after coming out of a dream about his boyfriend being possessed, and he can’t breathe through his nose at all. His sinuses feel full and sniffling makes him cough. Rubbing his nose in a small circle, feeling it run, the coffee shop owner looks around, spying the box of tissues on Eddie’s nightstand. 

Fumbling out of bed, he goes to the other side and grabs it, plucking one out as he crawls back inside the warm cocoon they’ve made, giving his nose a blow. It’s productive but any congestion that’s been relieved instantly is replaced. His nose tickles, all consuming. It makes his thin nostrils widen, a trail of mess making its way down. Glancing at Eddie, he confirms he’s still asleep, so he mentally prepares himself as the tickle flares. 

“hhGkTch! SNF! ehKXxTuhh! Snfsnf-eiKSHH!!! Guh…snf!” 

Stifling only makes the tickle worse, as well as causes twin lines of snot to sluggishly start dribbling down to his upper lip. Steve’s unable to focus, unable to even register the mess, because his eyes are already fluttering shut again, pink rimmed nostrils flaring. 

“EHIHKSHHEW! hehIHJKSHuh!” 

He can feel the mess this time, warm against the skin under his nose. Grabbing another tissue, he presses it to his sensitive nose, rubbing and punching at the rims to try to get at the fuzzy, coldish tickle putting up a fight. 

“Cold seems to be bothering your poor nose,” Eddie says next to him, and Steve jumps from the sudden noise. 

Eyes opening, he keeps the tissue in place, absentmindedly still rubbing as he nods. The artist looks sleep rumpled and soft, eyes a little puffy from just having woken up. He’s smiling, watching in a way Steve kind of preens over. He’s not used to having someone enjoy his colds. 

“Itches,” the younger blows his nose again, wiping at the mess that almost soaks through the soft tissue. 

“Sounds like it. How long have you been awake?” 

“Just a little while, maybe half an hour,” Steve shrugs, voice rounding the words out, maybe sounding more like baby. 

“Should’a woken me. Wanna take care of you,” Eddie says with a sleepy rasp, sitting up and stretching. “You’re calling out of work right? No way you can be serving people drinks all day.” 

“Yeah…Robin’s gonna be pissed,” he slides a hand down his face, knowing Eddie’s right, even if it’s already making him anxious. 

Grabbing his phone off of the bed side table next to him, Steve pulls up his text messages and clicks Robin’s name. 

Hey, apparently I picked up a killer cold. Don’t think you want me at work with how much snot I’m producing. I’m really sorry Robs. 

Eddie’s moving closer to him, pressing a palm to his forehead, then moving it to his cheek. It’s so intimate it makes his entire body hot, and he leans into it a little, giving a timid smile. 

“What’s the verdict doc?” 

“A little warm, maybe slightly elevated. Nothing too worry about for now.” 

His phone buzzes. 

That sucks man, I’m sorry. I can handle it, it’s a Tuesday. Just get better. I’ll get Max to come in later today and tomorrow to help. No offense but I don’t feel like catching your plague. You let Eddie take good care of you ;) 

“She’s a menace.” 

“Nah, that’s sweet. It’s nice she already is counting for you to be out tomorrow.” 

“She just knows I suck at covering properly,” Steve jokes, leaning his head against Eddie’s shoulder. 

A wet, soupy sniffle makes another tickle appear, and Eddie, who’s wrapped an arm around him, doesn’t let him pull away to grab a tissue. He’s tired enough he can’t bring himself to care too much. Instead, he presses his face right into the man’s t-shirt. 

“There we go, just sneeze, handsome.” 

Steve doesn’t need to be told twice. 

“EIKSHhHhuh! ahIKSHUH!” 

Steve can feel how wet it is, how he dampens Eddie’s shoulder. Pulling back, twin strands still connecting him to the, the barista goes to wipe it away, but his boyfriend beats him to it, using his thumb to swipe at his nose, still a little itchy from the cold in his head. Eddie’s cool skin against his warm nose feels nice. 

“Still got more in there?”

A playful tap on the tip of his nose has Steve nodding again. The feeling is there, but it’s not strong enough, and after a few seconds, it retreats. 

“Damn it,” Steve groans and lets Eddie rub a tissue against his stinging nose. 

“Hate it when that happens,” the older man agrees, yawning. “I was going to suggest I make you tea, but now I remember you hate it. Heathen.” 

Laughing softly, Steve gives a ‘what can you do smile’ and then takes a tissue, blowing his nose again before dropping it into the growing pile next to him. Eddie leans closer, then presses a kiss to his lips. 

“You’ll get sick.” 

“…what do you think I’m trying to do Stevie?” 

It makes them both shift a little as he says it. 

“You like that Steve? Me catching your cold? Kissing you when you’re all germy and contagious?” 

Steve can’t help the whine that he emits, his arms finding Eddie’s shoulders, hands clasping around the back of his neck. He leans forward and kisses his boyfriend, and they both can feel the dampness accumulating on Steve’s upper lip, smearing onto Eddie’s. He pulls back after another, quicker kiss, catching his breath since he can’t inhale through his nose. 

His boyfriend looks at him, eyes bright and smile cheeky, then rubs at his own nose, palm pushing the mess that’s been passed, upwards. It slicks up the tattooist’s nostrils, and then Eddie sniffles a bit, looking pleased with himself. Steve’s acutely aware his face is probably flushed for reasons other than a slight fever, and his body feels like it’s been electrified. 

“Ohmygod,” Steve exhales in one breath, making his boyfriend laugh. 

“There’s no turning back now.” Eddie says, lips quirked upward, likes he’s the cat who’s got the cream. 

“God you’re so-SNFSNF! so hot.” 

“Look in a mirror, Harrington. Now,” the man pushes Steve back a little, careful not to hit his head on the headboard. “You need rest. Try and sleep ok?” 

“Y’staying?” 

“Duh, where else would I go? On my usual 10 mile run around Hawkins?” Even as he says it, Eddie wrinkles his nose as if he’s said D&D is an abomination. 

“Ha! You? running? I’d love to see it.” 

“You really wouldn’t. My legs are so skinny, and they’re like three shades paler than everywhere else,” Eddie grimaced, shaking his head. 

They both end up dozing for a couple of hours. Eddie stretches as his stomach rumbles, and Steve groans, coughing into a barely held up fist. He’s not sure if he wants to stay here while Eddie works or if he should head home to get more clothes. He thinks about subjecting Robin to this shit and scrunches his face up. 

“What’s up buttercup?” 

“I need to go get a couple of things from my place…but are you cool if I stay here? I don’t wanna get Robin sick if I can help it.” 

Eddie chuckles and nods, pressing a kiss to Steve’s now sleep-limp hair. 

“Of course baby. Kind of assumed you would be. Wouldn’t want Birdie catching her death,” he jokes, kissing Steve softly. 

“Mm, I’ll go and get my stuff when you leave for work,” the younger man nods, grabbing a tissue after the kiss so he can blow some of the excess congestion from his head. 

“Sounds good. Then you gotta rest ok? Watch tv, relax, make yourself at home. Maybe you can pick up some soup or something on your way back, so you get some food in you,” the artist suggests, standing and checking his insulin pump numbers. 

“Yes mom.” 

“It’s daddy to you, princess.” 

Steve’s mouth goes a little dry and his boyfriend laughs, giving him another kiss. 

“Fucking adorable.” 

The morning consists of Eddie making coffee and breakfast- oatmeal and eggs for the both of them, both of which Steve actually finds appetizing and easy on his sore throat. He sniffles and sneezes his way through watching Eddie get dressed and ready for work. Before long, both men are heading out the door, though Steve is dressed considerably more comfy than his boyfriend. 

“Alright. I’ll check in on you in a bit. Let me know if you need anything okay?” Eddie presses a kiss to Steve’s lips as they head down the steps to where their cars are parked. 

“Sounds good,” Steve smiles, kissing back before getting in and heading to his apartment, heat blasting. 

Entering his and Robin’s apartment, Steve tries to be thoughtful of his roommate, touching as little as possible as he goes to his room. Once there, he pulls out a small duffle bag from under his bed and puts some sweatpants, t shirts, socks and underwear in it, along with his own pillow (because nothing beats your own pillow especially when you’re sick), and his glasses. 

Normally, Steve forgoes them unless he has a headache, which he currently does. Plus his eyes are tired in general from his not feeling well. They’re round and gold, the frames wired and thin, and he’s had them for a few years, but they’re still holding up well. Going to the bathroom he and Robin share, Steve snags his toothbrush, toothpaste, and only his shampoo and conditioner, deciding sick days aren’t worth using product. 

By the time he’s back at Eddie’s, opening it with the spare he’s been given; and doesn’t that feel domestic, Steve’s absolutely exhausted. It doesn’t help he’d sneezed 8 times in the car before walking up. Dropping the duffle bag in Eddie’s room, the brunette grabs his toiletries and forces himself to go to Eddie’s bathroom, knowing he’ll regret not showering two days in a row. 

Stepping in after letting the water warm up, Steve lets it hit his sensitive skin. It feels amazing, and as it loosens his muscles, it also seems to loosen some of the congestion in his head. As he lathers his hair with his fancy Wella shampoo; the one Robin had suggested a while back that’s worked wonders for his already impeccable hair, his nose starts running. 

Rubbing at it with his arm, his hands still soapy, the man tries to continue on with his shower routine, rinsing the soap out then putting conditioner on. As he lets it sit and soak into his hair, Steve washes his face with the sensitive skin face wash Eddie has, having discovered he liked it more than his own, earlier in the week. 

With his head tilted back in the hot spray, rinsing everything off, something about the water hitting his face and the scents of everything intermingling makes his nose itch suddenly. Breath hitching, the man tilts his head to the side. 

“EHIKSHHuhEW! ihhDTChh’uh! hhHh! heh-IhKSHuh! ihtSCHH!!!” 

The sneezes are messy and harsh, scraping his throat as they come. He rubs his nose harshly, tilting back into the water to let it rinse away the mess. Fifteen seconds later, he groans as his breath snags. 

“ehIHtCHHuh! hehTihKSHH!! Fugck.” 

He repeats the step of rinsing away all the mess that’s against his face, then finally turns the water off and grabs the gray towel sitting right outside the shower door. Drying himself, he rubs his nose on the towel. And though the material is rough against his sensitive, chapped nostrils, it feels oddly good, getting to scrub at the itch and make it actually stop. 

Steve slips into clean underwear, sweatpants and then decides on Eddie’s ‘Halloween (1978)’ tee, it’s big and well worn, and it doesn’t make his skin hurt. After towel drying his hair; a rarity for him, and throwing it in Eddie’s washing machine with the other towels, the barista heads back to the bedroom and crawls onto Eddie’s cozy queen bed, sliding under the covers. 

He lays there for a while, letting himself drift as his mouth parts halfway, allowing the man to breathe. At some point, he wakes up to his sinuses buzzing and nose running. Too sleepy and vaguely coherent, Steve turns as his nose twitches, and presses his face right against Eddie’s pillow, nostrils quivering, rims red and damp. 

“hRTSHHhuh! ehIKSHHuh! Snfsnf! uhKSHEW!” 

Mess and spray hit the pillow, creating small damp spots. Steve sniffles wetly and coughs a little, directing that, too, onto the deep grey pillowcase. Finally shifting, the man grabs a tissue and blows his nose, attempting half heartedly to clean Eddie’s pillow off after. The crumpled tissue is tossed into the ever growing pile and then the barista falls back asleep. 

“-evie, hey baby, there we go,” Eddie’s voice is soft as Steve stirs, cracking his eyes open. 

“Eds? What times’it?” Steve sits up and sniffles, rubbing his nose with his wrist. 

“Four. Wanted to come check on you, you weren’t answering,” Eddie explains, dropping a kiss to his lips. 

Steve yawns and grabs a tissue, wiping away the mess that’s run down while sleeping, leaning into Eddie’s cool touch when he drops a palm on his forehead. He feels so sleepy, like he’s taken cold medicine, even though he knows he hasn’t. 

“I brought you soup. Figured you probably forgot or just didn’t do it.” 

Damn, his boyfriend was smart. 

“Mm, forgot,” the barista is already leaning back, eyes drooping. 

Minutes pass and he listens to Eddie moving around in the kitchen. He’s almost asleep when the artist comes back in. 

“Nope, sit up Stevie. Need to get some food and medicine in you.” 

“Nngh, fuck off,” Steve mumbles, but it’s not heated, and he doesn’t actually mean it. 

“Someone’s testy,” his boyfriend laughs, kissing his hair. 

Steve blushes. He knows he can be grumpy when he’s sick, his parents always told him, and even Robin and Max comment on it sometimes. He doesn’t mean to be, but he just…likes sleeping. He’s used to doing things on his own. Help is hard. 

“Alright princess. Soup, then meds. I’m gonna go make myself a quick snack while you eat. I still have to work another four hours, just needed to come see you.” 

By the time Eddie’s home for good, Steve’s curled up on the couch, wanting a change of scenery. The television is on, playing Seinfeld, an old comfort show of his. The long haired man walks in and sets his backpack down by the door like always, and Steve smiles at him. 

“How was the rest of-snf! work?” 

He’s got half a box of tissues crumpled next to him, and the other half waiting to be used. He’s well aware of just how pink his nose is, how the underside is slick with mess, probably chapped as well. Eddie walks over and sits on the couch, smiling back, kissing his hair. 

“It was fine. Had a couple walk-ins. Nothing too exciting,” the older man assures, rubbing his own nose a little. 

“Missed you.” 

“Missed you too. I think I might take a quick sh-howher,” the last word wavers and Steve raises an eyebrow. 

Looking at his boyfriend, Steve notices his nose is a little pink and the tell tale allergic crease on the bridge tells him his allergies must be bothering the man. His eyes are red and puffy too, like he’s been rubbing at them. Eddie must be able to see Steve’s curiosity, because he huffs and rubs his nose again. 

“Cameron was vaping right next to my table for like an hour,” he sniffles and though Steve can’t smell it, he’s sure the scent of whatever the guy's vape flavor was today, along with probably some cannabis if he was using the CBD juice. 

He can’t help but think it’s kind of adorable, how Eddie’s nose is so sensitive to the smell of weed. He’s learned during one of their late night talks that his boyfriend had even sold weed in highschool, and would smoke all the time. 

“ihhGKtSHew! ikGTshh’EW!” 

Steve waits for the last sneeze but it never comes. Instead, Eddie blows his nose a few times, rubbing at it and clearing his throat. 

“Bless you.” 

“Thanks. Okay, shower, then I’ll come cuddle you.” 

Watching the man disappear, Steve replays the sneezes in his head, eyes slipping shut as he imagines Eddie sitting with some client, trying to tattoo them while battling with the most teasing, ticklish feeling in his sinuses. His allergies have already been getting worse now that it’s Autumn. He was probably already sensitive. 

While waiting, Steve heads back into the bedroom, head feeling a little fuzzy from sitting up so long. Once again, he positions himself so he’s half on his own pillow, but the very front part of his face is brushing against his boyfriends. Rubbing his nose on the fabric, knowing he’s leaving an inordinately large amount of germs behind, he gets lost in thoughts of sick, coldish Eddie this time, shutting his eyes. The door to the bathroom opens eventually and he listens to Eddie putter around, pulling on clothes. 

“You look cozy,” the tattoo artist leans down and kisses Steve’s shoulder, then shifts so he can get into bed too. 

“Feel all coldish,” Steve admits, because really, he can’t deny it.

His throat’s finally painful, not just a little achy, and his sinuses have been throbbing. Even his ears have been tugging uncomfortably. At the feeling of Eddie’s arm around him, Steve scoots closer and lets out a sleepy sigh. 

“I’m sorry babe, anything I can get you?” 

“No, juh-snf! just you is good.” 

A tickle starts immediately swirling in his head and Steve keeps his face against Eddie’s shoulder, rubbing it against the soft shirt over and over. The older of the two shifts then tilts his head up, and then they’re noses are rubbing together. 

“hhh! Ehhdie-snfsnf!” Steve goes to rub his nose but a pale hand grabs his wrist. 

“Nope, gonna try and get at that itch for you. You just enjoy,” the man grins almost wolfishly, teeth glinting. 

Okay, fuck. That’s hot as hell. Steve squirms, nose twitching. 

“Good boy.” 

Leaning in again, Eddie keeps nuzzling their noses together, first the tip, then he angles his head so he can use the tip of his nose to brush against Steve’s nostrils, damp and dilated. 

“eISHHH-huh! HehKSHhhehw!” 

“God bl-“ 

“EhIKSHHUH! hiKDShhUH!” 

“Fucking hell.” 

Eddie pulls back only slightly, and Steve lets his sneezes mist Eddie’s face and chest, half too caught up in the absolute desperation to sneeze, and half because he knows his boyfriend is turned on. He’s turned on too. They’re both hard, he can feel it as he slots their legs together. 

“More?” Eddie asks so sweetly Steve almost dies. 

“Yeah, feels…really itchy,” he nods, and Eddie grabs a tissue, rubbing at the younger's nose, getting some of the mess. 

Steve’s breath hitches and he tilts his head back, letting Eddie do what he wants, even though he himself wants nothing more than to just scrub at his nose until it stops- if it ever will. 

“hehISHHuh! eIKSHH’EW!” 

“Big sneezes,” Eddie laughs softly, and Steve leans into the man’s neck. 

“ihKShhuh! Sorry, snf! Snuck up on me,” he teases, smiling when he feels his boyfriend's hands squeeze his hips. 

“Sorry, you’re not sorry Harrington,” Eddie kisses him again, nipping his lower lip. 

“You’re right, M’not.”

Eddie shifts and suddenly Steve is being straddled, brain short circuiting. His boyfriend, with his curls everywhere and his big brown doe eyes, leans over top of him, then drops kisses all along his jaw and down his neck, sucking at the base of his throat. 

“Hope you don’t scar, or maybe I do,” he teases, teeth biting lightly where he’s just sucked. 

“Fuck Eddie.” 

The man moves back in front of Steve’s face. Another kiss, and then- 

“I-I’m gohhna sneeze,” Steve somehow manages to get out, nose suddenly needing attention. 

Eddie pulls back and the look on his face is pure lust. He doesn’t move away, and Steve can feel his nostrils twitching, can feel how goopy his head is and how these sneezes are going to be messy. His breath hitches and Eddie runs a blunt nail against his right nostril. Steve feels his body jolt, his nose scrunch, both on their own accord. 

“That feel good Stevie?” 

“y-hh! hiDSCHH’uh! EISHH’UH!” 

“Good job baby,” Eddie continues to tease the rims of his nostrils, his touch so delicate it’s driving Steve insane. 

“Ehhddie please,” he can feel the mess sliding onto his upper lip. 

His boyfriend kisses him again and both of them whimper and whine at the same time. Steve shifts and somehow, even exhausted and kind of weak, energy drained from the cold, he still manages to flip them over, probably mostly due to catching the other off guard. 

“Steve, wh-“ Eddie sucks in a sharp breath and it takes everything in Steve not to laugh, as his hands start pulling down the artist's sweatpants. 

Looking at him, he notices his boyfriend's eyes are almost black, and he’s squirming a little. Pulling both the black sweatpants and black boxer briefs down, Steve rubs his nose across Eddie’s stomach. There’s a dip in his hip bones, and Steve kisses across it and then down his happy trail.

The small wiry hairs leading away from Eddie’snelly bottom rub against his nose and it twitches, running. He’s sure the other man can feel the dampness against his abdomen. As his nostrils flare, Steve shifts to Eddie’s thighs, nosing along the inner right. 

“iHKSHHhuh! EISHKSHH!!” Spray and mess are cool against Eddie’s warm body, and Steve smirks as he watches him jerk upward. 

“Steve oh myfuckinggod…” 

Precum is already leaking from Eddie’s cock, and Steve’s sure it’s probably throbbing with how hard it is. He lets his hand brush against it and Eddie whines loudly. 

“Fucking Christ Steve…” 

“I’ve got a cold, Eddie, don’t rush me,” Steve says in a faux-annoyed tone, sniffling soupily as he kisses his other thigh. 

“Y-You do…so hot Steve…”

“hehhh-IKSHHuh! eiXShUH!” 

A whimper makes Steve smile, and he strikes his boyfriend, barely getting a few in before he sneezes again, messy and loud. Not four seconds later, Eddie’s coming and moaning loudly, eyes shut, mouth hanging open. 

“That was hot.” 

“Tell me about it Princess.” 

[miinomo]

my little maid.

✿ pairings - Erwin x Maid Fem! (Chubby) Reader

contains - (18+ content MDNI) Infidelity, Body worship, Age gap, Creampie, Dark Content

✿ Synopsis - A bad day could change in moments of Erwin coming home to his perfect maid. One that could never deny him the pleasure that his cold, unloving wife denies him on a daily basis. 

You stood in one of the bigger guest bedrooms while staring at yourself in the mirror. It was a Venetian mirror that had lacquered wood finished in dark red with a high gloss varnish coat. It was one of the many expensive furnishings that caught your eye in the Smith’s household. It was like there was always something to be looking at. All of their furniture seemed straight out of a film, or a novel. The type of couches or beds you would see in a mansion on the big screen. 

When you were first hired by Mrs. Smith, you weren’t as great of a cleaner as you are now. It was tough-- Getting used to cleaning so many rooms, and so thoroughly at that. But you picked up a good technique rather quickly. And for that, the Smith’s were thankful. Their home always seemed to accumulate a lot of dust in such a short period, so without you, they would surely be suffering something fierce in the realm of allergies.

The uniform, however, was something Mr. Smith’s wife did not approve of. The skirt was too short, the stockings- too revealing. Whenever she would come home and see you dressed so whorishly it made her skin crawl. But looking at yourself, it felt nice. Even though you weren’t a model, you were a bit thicker than most women that society deemed beautiful- Mr. Smith never made you feel that way, like you weren’t good enough. He looked at you as if you were the only woman in the world. 

His words affected you more than he would ever know- “You started as a blank canvas. Everything about you, down to your stretch marks is beautiful. And I will tell you every day until you believe it yourself.” That was what he said to you the first time the two of you had been intimate. You were nervous and shy for him to see your unclothed body. But he insisted, he wanted to worship all of you, not just the parts that anyone could see on a day-to-day basis.

Abruptly the front door was slammed and it caused your heart to drop into your stomach. The sudden sound had frightened you- you were so caught up in reminiscing on past experiences with Mr. Smith and didn’t notice it was around the time he usually came home. The loud noise echoed through the house, which was a common occurrence anywhere with long hallways and high ceilings. “Mr. Smith?” You called after walking to the doorway, wanting to be sure the person that entered the premises was truly who you were expecting. 

“Yes, y/n. It’s me.” His stern, yet comforting voice announced. “Come downstairs when you have a moment.” The tone in his voice suggested two possibilities. Either he and his wife were fighting again, or he had a bad day at work. Making your way downstairs you could see him sitting at the dining table with his head resting in his hands. You were guessing it was the latter due to it being directly after business hours that he looked so unhappy. 

“Yes. Work was quite hectic today, but it was also Marleen. She was constantly calling me while I was in the middle of a presentation with a new client. Needless to say, it did not go well.” Erwin looked at you as you stood at the opposite side of the table. “Please sit y/n. I would love your company. Dusting can wait.” Although Erwin was venting to you- your chest felt warm. It was always the same feeling you got when looking at him. He held himself so well. His posture, so upright. Everything about him just screamed ‘gentleman.’ 

The sound of your flats tapping against the white tiles was what made Mr. Smith’s attention come back to you. “How was work, Mr. Smith? Was it as unpleasant as it seemed?” You approached the oaky table which had hand-carved details of the intricate marquetry and like the mirror from upstairs; it was also finished with a high gloss varnish. 

The ocean blue eyes that you loved to look into were staring you down as his warm hand enveloped yours. “I missed you so much. You have no idea how long today felt. And now that I’m here with you it’s like a weight was taken off of my shoulders.” He confided in you. The world felt so quiet- usually, you could hear the birds chirping, the winds howling, or even the neighbors doing yard work. But not right now. Not while Mr. Smith sat so close, telling you all he needed to feel better was to take one look at you. 

“I missed you too Mr. Smith.” You smiled at him while he rubbed his thumb over your hand. “y/n, I’ve told you at least a dozen times you may call me Erwin.” His voice was so calm. Every time he said your name it felt like your heart was going to burst. “I know you have, but it’s easier for me to slip up if I get too comfortable.” Silence filled the room for a moment. Bringing up the fact that you two were hiding your love for each other was never easy. Even if he was in an unhappy marriage, it felt wrong sometimes. 

“I understand.” Erwin looked away from you for only a moment before directing his gaze straight back to you. “Would you accompany me upstairs? I would love your help with something.” Just from the tone in his voice, you knew where this was going. He needed relief, and you weren’t planning to deny him. “Of course, Mr. Smith.” You got up from your seat and followed him through the hall. 

The two of you walked up the stairs together- you following behind him while he held onto the railing. “We’re going to the master bedroom.” He instructed before taking a right when he reached the top of the stairway. The halls were decorated with many expensive pieces of art. Paintings, teaware, and framed botanicals hung on the brown walls. The white marbled tile of the floor accentuated the brown in such a pleasant way. 

Erwin turned around to look at you after entering through the doorway. “You’re so beautiful.” He rested his hands on your hips and pulled you closer to him. Bringing you to his chest and looking down at you, he smiled. “Having you here with me... I couldn’t ask for anything more.” He leaned down, encasing your lips in his. His kisses were always so passionate. You could feel the care and love behind his desperate groans into your mouth. 

“I love you.” Your eyes widened and a loud ringing came to your ears. Mr. Smith just confessed his love to you. You both mutually knew that you cared deeply for one another, but hearing him say those words was just something you couldn’t have imagined. The words were so sweet. “Please, y/n. Let me have you.” He ran his hands down to your ass and gripped it lightly. You looked into his eyes and without hesitance, you gave him your answer. “You don’t even have to ask.” 

And with that, Erwin picked you up continuing to kiss you with as much passion as he could. His tongue explored the inside of your mouth and fought against your own for dominance. Although you would never actually try to overtake him. You loved how much of a lead he took when the two of you were intimate. He walked with you in his arms, slowly making his way to the bed. It was the largest bed in the house, with lilac satin sheets. They were cool and soft against your thighs when he placed you down onto them. 

“Mr. Smith, are you sure we should have sex in here? This is...” The thought of his wife sleeping in this bed later tonight was clouding your head. “We will just have to be sure we don’t make a mess.” He breathed against your plush lips before kissing you yet again. Your hands snaked their way up around his neck, touching the back of his head. His haircut was a bit scratchy due to the undercut and shave he opted for. 

“Erwin.” You moaned into his mouth as his large hand made its way up to your inner thigh slowly. He gripped onto your skin, pushing his thumb down just enough to apply a bit of pain. “I love how much of you there is to love.” He pulled back from the kiss and smiled endearingly while looking into your eyes. “You’re perfect. And I love you.” Your heart skipped a beat from his comments. “I love you too Erwin.” 

With your confession, Erwin found in himself that he was no longer able to be patient. He would usually prep you for him, with his tongue or fingers. But he couldn’t wait any longer. He needed to be inside of you. “Are you wet enough for my cock, y/n?” He breathed against your ear while he focused on undoing his belt. Tossing it to the side of the room, he proceeded to unzip his pants- pulling his cock through his trousers. 

You could feel his member poking the inside of your legs while he kissed your neck, occasionally biting down onto your skin. “Fuck, I want you.” You hissed through your teeth as he nibbled your ear. His breath was warm as was his tongue, which ran down the side of your neck before he placed light and feathery kisses along the trail of saliva he left behind. “Then you’ll have me.” He groaned before pushing his cock deep inside of you. 

No amount of slick was ever enough to make taking him easy. It always felt like he was assaulting your insides when he thrust so deeply into you. Stretching you more than anyone else ever had. Erwin let out a breathy moan. “You’re so tight.” During sex, your holes always squeezed him just right. To the point where your pussy would make forming sentences a challenge. You always made him feel so good. He planted his feet firmly into the ground while you laid on your back, looking up to the ceiling. He grabbed ahold of your thighs and pushed your legs up, resting them onto his shoulder before he began pounding into you.

The ivory frills on your skirt tickled his skin as he kept his rhythm. You gasped every time you felt him ram into your cervix. You felt your eyes start to roll back into your head; his veiny cock was almost too much for you. Continuously mixing up your insides, each vein pulling at your inner walls. He grabbed onto your hips harshly, keeping you in place while he brought your pussy to the base of his cock. The two of you were moaning so loudly it started to echo throughout the house. “shit, y/n. Fuck, you’re squeezing, so fucking tight.” His voice was shaky. 

Your hands searched for anything to hold onto while your body rocked back and forth on the bed. Finally settling on the soft and luxurious satin sheets. You balled them into your fists and cried out his name repeatedly. “I’m going to cum, Erwin.” Your walls clenched his cock so tight, not wanting it to leave with each pump. Your legs began to shake and fall from his shoulders but he grabbed ahold of your thighs. Holding them in place and speeding up the pace of him ramming into your pussy. Deeper than ever. 

“Don’t spill any of my cum, baby. It’d be a pain to get out of these sheets.” He chuckled as his hips spastically jerked forward. He groaned and leaned his head back as his warm seed shot into you. Your pussy was filled up with his cum and your cheeks were bright pink. It was so thick, so much. You were scared you wouldn’t be able to hold all of it in. He pulled out of you slowly, making sure you put his thumb on your hole when his cock finally exited your gaping hole. “Should I cork you? Make sure not a drop escapes your beautiful pussy?” He smirked as he looked over at a bottle of red wine, sitting on the granite countertop of his dresser. 

You thought for a moment and couldn’t help but lick your lower lip. “Please cork me.” Your response surprised him, this time he was the one who was shocked. His eyebrows raised slightly but he kept his smug expression. “Oh? If you keep all of it in till the end of your shift tonight, maybe I’ll reward you. My beautiful, little maid.” 

✿✿✿ Author’s Notes ✿✿✿ - Although I don’t normally write a note at the bottom of my pieces I wanted to address something. I’ve been seeing a few people that I follow having body shaming anons coming into their ask boxes, and that’s not cool. I am all for body positivity and feeling good about yourself. But there’s a difference when your tone is bragging, versus being happy in your own skin. And I am a bit on the chubbier side myself and want anyone that is uncomfortable in their own skin to know that you’re beautiful and loved. Usually my writing is for all body types, but I wanted this one to be a bit more personal for us Chubby girls. I hope you all still enjoyed this piece, and can all one day love who you are and what you look like. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and don’t let anyone ever put you down. Thank you. 

[mae-gi-writes]

My Heart Beats | Seo Changbin (Stray Kids)

Synopsis:

You're dying, all because of the love that Seo Changbin has for someone else.

Genre: hanahaki au! Lots of angst, little fluff, Chan is a good wingman. Happy ending! 

----

There was a lot of coughing, at first.

You weren't exactly sure why your throat scratched so badly that it burned like it was on fire, only downed a few cough drops with the hope that it'd go away after a few days. You told yourself that maybe if you waited it out long enough, it would go away by itself and you wouldn't spend nights lying in bed, practically curling in on yourself as you tried to keep the coughing to a minimum.

It didn't get better.

Of course, the first few times you'd cough into your sleeve, your close friend and classmate Changbin would ask you if you were sick -- with that disgruntled frown that only you could decipher as concern -- but you had merely shaken your head then before batting away his worries with a brush of your fingers.

It had escaped your notice, how your throat clamped up whenever he was close by, how you would suddenly erupt whenever he would play with your hair or brush some dust off your shoulder.

"Seriously Y/N, go see a doctor or something," he said one day after your Photograohy seminar where you had spent three quarters of it muffling your coughs. That had garnered you numerous dirty looks from your classmates, "maybe you're developing an allergy."

"It doesn't come all the time," you replied breathlessly while plastering a smile on your face.

He wasn't convinced.

And then, when you stumbled upon him in the cafeteria sitting across from a girl you'd seldom met before, that had been the last straw.

You had barely managed to make it to the toilet, hand cupped against your mouth and running like your life depended on it, stumbling into the nearest stall to empty the contents of your stomach.

Only, it wasn't.

You watched, horrified, as blood poured out of your mouth like a gushing waterfall filled with bits and pieces of broken branches, plant stems, petals. You couldn't tear your eyes away from it no matter how much you tried, chest heaving and breaths ragged as you gazed at the mess in the toilet bowl with the slow realization sinking into you.

Hanahaki.

You were dying. You were dying because plants were now growing into your heart, taking over your lungs and your body.

That was when you got a second realization:

That you were in love with Seo Changbin. And he was clearly in love with someone else. 

------

"Long time no see.” 

You jolted from your seat, head whipping up and partly expecting to see the said raven-haired man that you had been avoiding most week to be standing there with a scowl on his face. Instead, you were genuinely surprised to find one of his closest friends instead. 

Chan looked down at you with furrowed brows and from the way his eyes skimmed over your features, you guessed he was seeing the side effects of the hanahaki just as much as you were, “jesus, Y/N. Are you sick or something?” 

“Bad cold,” you faked a laugh, quickly scrambling to cover the book title currently spread open for him to see, but Chan hd quick reflexes, arm sneaking underneath yours to yank the said book out of your arms and ignoring your protests. 

He read the title once, twice. Flipped a few pages, frown growing so deep on his face that his eyebrows were practically kissing at the centre, and you were about to make a joke out of it -- to make light of the situation -- when his eyes snapped back up to you. And what you saw in them caused all jokes to die upon your tongue.

“What is this, Y/N?” 

You tried to ignore the shakiness in his alto, or the emotion blazing through his dark irises. Your chest hurt with that same familiar ache you had grown accustomed to over the days, causing you to look away as you murmured out your reply: 

"What it says it is.” 

It was useless to lie. Chan was sharp. There’d be no use lying to him.

He sucked in a breath and you quickly scrambled out, “don’t tell Changbin.” 

Brown orbs boring into yours for a few seconds too long, you forced yourself to return his gaze with a pleading look of your own, and it seemed like he figured it out for himself for he merely dropped his eyes before looking away. 

“It’s him, isn’t it?” he murmured, “It’s Changbin.” 

Your head bowed. Your silence said everything. His breath hitched, grasping your shoulder so that you turned to face the wetness of his eyes as tears brimmed at the corners, “stop it. You can stop it right? There’s got to be a cure for that now.” 

Oh, how it would be wonderful to believe there was even a cure. But the only solution was surgery and even that came with its risks. Plus, extracting the hanahaki from your heart meant to erase Changbin altogether from your life and as much as it killed you literally to be existing in this state every single day, you couldn’t bear the thought of leaving behind all the memories that you and Changbin had built together. 

Thankfully, Chan wasn’t forceful in his argument when you pleaded that you felt more comfortable dealing with this alone. He did, however, constantly check up on you on days where you looked especially gaunt, when the pouches under your eyes were so blue he feared that they would swallow up your whole face, or when he noticed how you left your lunch untouched, opting to sip silently on your soy milk instead. 

“Who is she?” You had asked once, your soprano barely above a raspy whisper, as your eyes trailed over Changbin’s figure leaning in towards what the girl was saying. 

“Her name’s Yoreum,” Chan had mumbled through mouthfuls of his meat sandwich, “apparently she’s a transfer student from Japan, and very interested in Changbin.” 

“Good for him, I guess,” you mumbled. 

A minute later, you excused yourself to the bathroom, palm halting the trickle of blood from your lips.

You weren’t exactly certain how this disease worked. Was it due to your inner feelings? Or did it depend on Changbin’s? Or both? The books you read had told you endless tales of varying consequences and different situations, which didn’t help the matter in the least. In fact, it left you even more in the dark, if that was possible. 

You knew that it would be impossible to avoid Seo Changbin forever for once he set his mind to something, it was a force not to be reckoned with. You had kept up a stream of excuses about being sickly and that it was exams season. But all your efforts were futile after a few weeks when you spotted the said man standing at the front of your apartment complex, tapping his feet to keep the coldness of spring at bay. 

You had half a mind to run away, drop everything and just make a dash for it. But Changbin spotted you before you could do anything and he closed the gap between you two in less than three strides, quickly encapsulating you in a hug. 

Your breath hitched. The itch was back, your throat tingling like crazy. You paused for a few seconds and allowed his scent to overwhelm you, before pushing him away to cough into your sleeve. 

“Damn Y/N. Chan was right. You really are sick.” 

"Wha--" you tried to force the itch down your throat, "are you doing--"

Your body jerked as you felt it give way to the pain that twisted your torso in two and you turned away just in time to clamp a hane over your mouth as you coughed like there was no tomorrow.

Warm liquid splattered over your palm. The metallic stench of blood filled your nostrils.

"Y/N," Changbin made a move towards you, "are you--"

Holding up a hand, you felt him halt as another round of coughs ripped through your already-dry throat. You didn't realize that your legs gave out at some point until a pair of hands quickly grasped the back of your elbows, and though you wished to push him away, pain rippled through your body as you all but collapsed to the floor, blood and branches and petals splattering onto the ground.

You didn't have to look at his face to know that his body was tensed in shock, frozen as he took in the sight before him. Scrambling for words, they all died at the back of your throat when you glanced over at his clenched jaw, the slow reality that blooms through his dark pupils. 

Silence filled the air.

“What--” he choked up, “is this?” 

You opened your mouth to answer, closed it when you couldn’t find anything. Before you, Changbin’s fists curled, clenching at his sides as he surveyed the mess of blood and dried up flowers. 

"Tell me this is not what I think it is,” he whispered. 

Still, you said nothing.

“Tell me!” He bellowed. 

“Changbin, I--” another round of coughs made your body twist on itself as you struggled to answer him, maybe lie through your teeth even though it was too late, “I can explain--” 

“Explain what?! That you’re dying?!” he swivelled around with barely restrained anger and that made you flinch back, “you kept this from me?! Why?! Tell me Y/N--” 

But his shouts were drowned out by your endless coughing and heaving, leaning forward to choke out a few petals dripping with fresh blood onto the ground. Your mind was swirling with excuses, trying to come up with the stupidest reasons as to why your body was behaving this way and maybe telling him that it was all due to someone else who couldn’t love you back. But the more you tried to fight the urge to throw up, the more you kept on gagging on your own blood. 

Arms came around your middle to lift you up, Changbin’s scent surrounding your figure as he managed to haul you to your feet and half-carry you inside your flat. It wasn’t until your body was laid down on the couch that you managed to utter out a soft “thank you”, which sounded more like an apology than anything else.

Changbin grunted, momentarily going out of your peripheral and returning with a sac plastic, in case you had anything more to cough out, which warmed your heart despite the cold harsh truth lingering before your very eyes. A truth that you knew had to be verbalized, sooner or later.

“Who is it?” 

His question caught you off-guard. Glancing up, your throat constricted at the way he gazed back at you, eyes dark and glossy with emotion.

Dropping your head to the floor, you mumble out something incoherent. You wished he could drop it.

“Who is it?” he growled.

Your jaw clenched. There was no escaping him, nothing could salvage the situation. So you closed your eyes, took a deep breath, before finally looking up at the raven-haired man sitting opposite you. 

“It’s you.” 

His anger dissolved into shock. He stared you down, mouth parted, for a few seconds.

When he spoke next, his words were barely above a murmur, “what?” 

He was staring at you as if you had just grown out a second head. But as much as you felt like flinching away, you kept your eyes steady, even when they welled up with tears, even when they burned from the way you caught sight of his expression slowly crumbling as the realization sank into his bones.

“You’re joking,” he whispered mostly to himself as he shook his head, “no. It’s not--What? It can’t be me, unless--”

“I love you.” 

His eyes snapped back to you and your breath stilled in your throat. The buzzing silence in the air twisted, thick with tension and from the remnants of your words that echoed in the distance between your bodies.

“But--” Changbin opened his mouth, closed it. Opened it again. His frown deepened and his silence conveyed the inner conflict going on through his brain as you sat there with your world crumbling apart, wishing that he didn’t leave you for the last few days of your existence. 

You’d be gone all too soon. And then, and then life would go on. Changbin would go on. After all, he deserved to be loved by someone whom his heart desired. 

“I love you,” you repeated, the words breaking against your parted lips and tearing at your heart with every shaky inhale. You squeezed your eyes shut before burying your face into one of the couch pillows in hopes that this moment would just disappear, in hopes that this was all a well-constructed nightmare.

It felt like an eternity before you heard the rough alto of Changbin’s voice. It was choked, like he was having a hard time keeping himself together and though you wished to do something to ease his pain, you also knew that if you took a look at him, you’d crumble in seconds. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

The sentence echoed through your ears, pain tugging at your heartstrings with every second that passed.

Without looking at him, you answered in a whisper, “because it’s not your fault.” 

"Not my fault?” His voice rose in anger, “not my fault? How is this not my fault? You love me, you’re dying because you love me. How--Fuck Y/N! How the fuck am I supposed to live with that?! I--” 

“Please,” your broken soprano flies out between you like a needle that hits him straight in the heart, “please. Not now.” 

If there was any reason why you hadn’t wanted to tell the said man straight up about the hanahaki was exactly for that reason; you loathed the idea of having Changbin beat himself up for the feelings that tormented your heart. It wasn’t his fault, but knowing the kind of person that he was, you were certain he’d feel guilty about not returning your feelings. 

But that wasn’t what you wanted. Not just some half-hearted love. Not a love that got drawn out from pity. You didn’t want him to love you, if that meant that he lost himself in the process. 

All you wanted, prayed for, was his happiness.

And that wasn’t you, as harsh as that was of a pill to swallow.

------

You woke up the next day to find Changbin still on the couch, sleeping where you had left him last evening to hide in your bedroom. When you’d gently lulled him out of sleep, he’d proceeded to make some breakfast while chatting about the most random things and quite frankly, ignoring the elephant in the room. It came to the point where you had snapped and asked what were his true intentions. To which he answered, as though it was the simplest solution: 

“I’m spending some time with my best friend,” he’d glanced over at you from his breakfast plate filled with eggs and sausages, “isn’t that obvious?” 

“But--” 

“Y/N, you’re not the only one who cares about this relationship,” Changbin looked away, before looking back with tears glimmering at the corners of his eyes, “if I can’t change my heart, then I’ll change the way I spend my time.”

You tried again, “I don’t want your pity--”

“Unless you want me to feel guilty for the rest of my life.” 

“You’re..." you watched him, unsure of what exactly was going on inside that head of his. Sometimes, his logic didn’t add up.This was one of those times, “now you’re making me feel guilty.” 

“Do you not want me around?” 

It seemed that your condition might have shaken him up more than you initially thought. His presence had always been a constant and yet up until now, he’d been busier, schedules more packed with activities and socializing with his other course mates whenever he had blocks of free time. He’d lock himself in his studio alone whenever inspiration struck and though you had always respected his personal space, there was no denying that some part of you missed him deeply. But it wasn’t like you could tell him that, knowing that it would merely be selfish of you to do so.

“That’s not what I--”

“Thought so,” and he got up from the table, signalling that the conversation was a case closed and dusted before directing himself towards the sink. You’d only dipped your head back towards your plate, trying hard not to let the heat colour your cheeks the way it always did whenever you found your best friend attractive. It had been getting harder and harder to stop yourself from reacting, and now that your feelings were out in the open, you hoped that Changbin would play along and ignore them altogether. 

Now though, now was different. Changbin actively sought you out; in the library he’d bring you cappuccinos with almond milk and an extra coffee shot just as you liked before sitting down to ‘study’ opposite you, he’d call you up at the most random times to chill at your flat even if that meant basking in hours of comfortable silence while you worked side by side. He’d even drag you to the studio with him, adamant on making you listen through his countless tracks with excuses that he needed a second opinion.

"I have questionable taste. You of all people should know that,” you would argue whenever he’d fight to place the headphones over your ears. You let him though, enjoying the warmth of his figure whenever he leaned over yours to fiddle with the headset. 

“Exactly why I want you to listen,” Changbin’s voice was muffled and yet, the way his breaths brushed against your ear caused your stomach to tingle. 

You wished to believe that his attention was intentional, that it came to him as naturally as breathing. But you knew it wasn’t. Because as soon as he’d walk away from you, you had to rush to the nearest bathroom to cough up more and more flower stems ceremoniously. 

And it was okay, really. It was bearable. You were happy enough to have him for a little while, even though you knew it would last up until the day you closed your eyes for the last time.

Once, he’d invited you over to make sushi -- he’d claimed beforehand that he was a good sushi roller and that this was just an excuse to flaunt his skills -- and he’d dragged you out to the supermarket with him, threatening that you wouldn’t be getting any of the salmon if you didn’t. So you’d reluctantly followed, complaining along the way as you trailed after him like a five-year-old child. 

It was when you were in the middle of looking at the salmon that you were suddenly overtaken with that familiar burn in your throat. Doubling over and trying to breathe as evenly as possible, you turned away from the food display just in time to cough up blood in your palm.

Changbin was at your side in an instant, hands circling your middle while murmuring his concern in your ears while you tried forcing down the pain slowly brimming over your mouth. At this point, you hadn’t realized that your best friend had slid you into his arm while he’d yelled at everyone to get the fuck out of the way, not until you were met with the outside air and was suddenly slammed by a round of coughing that just wouldn’t stop. 

You felt Changbin’s hands against your back, stroking soft circles as you coughed and coughed and coughed. Blood splattered over your clothes, on the ground, dribbled down your chin in a stream filled with flower petals and stems that grated against your lips. 

The more you coughed, the more flowers appeared. You noticed tulips, roses, daisies as well now. Those were new, you thought bitterly as you heaved.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed since, nor how you found yourself pressed against Changbin’s chest with your head tucked under his chin. He held you softly, tenderly, and you didn’t have the self-restraint to stop the silent tears from dribbling down your chin.

You loved him. 

You didn’t want to die.

“That’s a pretty big bouquet you just made,” came his soft murmur in the shell of your ear, causing a faint smile to twitch at your lips. Indeed, the array of flowers littering the ground would’ve been nothing less of beautiful, if not for the large amount of blood that you had just lost. 

“Changbin,” you breathed out weakly.

“Hm?” 

"I’m...” your head lolled against his neck when you tried to look up at him but failed, “I’m sorry.” 

His body stilled. Then, he said, “what for?” 

“For taking away your time,” your voice was thick with emotion.

“You’re not. I spend my time however I want,” his hold tightened, “if I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t be.” 

Still. You felt bad. You opened your mouth to apologize once more, only for him to beat you to it by pressing a finger to your lips.

"Don't," he said, "apologize."

Fire had seeped from his finger to litter across your cheeks and you were glad that your face was hidden from view, for you were bound to be the colour of a fire engine, no doubt about that.

Later, when your heart had calmed and your throat had been soothed with hot chocolate, he'd pulled you out into the rooftop and proceeded to sit you down onto his jacket so that you could gaze out at the cityscape.

"Beautiful," you murmured and took a sip of your drink, allowing the warmth to spread through your limbs. Spring weather was ambiguous that way; sometimes cold, sometimes bearable.

"Y/N."

"Hm?"

Changbin took a sip of his beer, "is there anything you'd like to do?"

"What do you mea--"

It dawned on you then. Oh.

"I don't know. I haven't really thought about it."

He angled his head towards you, "will you tell me?"

A smile graced your features, though you hoped he didn't notice how it didn't reach your eyes, "sure."

All you wanted though, all your yearned for, was for him.

Not that you'd ever tell him that.

A little later during that same week, you had taken the chance to ask him about the girl he loved. He'd brought you over to the Han River to show you how to skateboard and as you sat in the grass admiring the sun setting over the horizon, you decided to buckle up the courage and blurt out what was haunting your mind for days on end.

"What's her name?"

"Huh?" Changbin had looked at you like you'd really gone crazy then, before you prompted him with, "the girl you like. What's her name?"

He tried not to squirm in embarrassment, and failed as he averted his eyes, "i don't like her," you heard him mumble under his breath, "I just think she's cute."

"Yeah yeah. What's her name?"

"Why should I tell you?" He threw you a scowl, "so that you can make fun of me?"

"It's one of the things on my list."

"What list?"

"List of things I want to do," you propped your chin into your hands and grinned teasingly, "and that's asking you about the girl you like."

He let out an annoyed sigh, "Yoreum."

"Wah, pretty name. What's she like?"

"I don't want to talk about her."

"Why not?" You pouted, "I'll cheer you on even in spirit."

"Don't," he snapped back so suddenly, "talk like that."

Blinking at his sudden change in demeanour, you decided it was wiser to drop the subject altogether, lest it agitated him more. Changbin was known for his moody temperament but he'd been quite generous with you these past few weeks. Maybe because he knew that there was going to be an end. The thought caused another ache to reverberate through your chest and you looked away, not knowing on which foot to dance on for the rest of the night.

As you were walking back home, you felt his eyes constantly glance at the way you kept on blowing air into your hands,  "you cold?"

"Huh? Oh no, I--"

Too late, for his hand reached out to engulf yours, bringing it over to stuff it in his jacket. You stared at him for a full minute as your heart skipped a beat. What...was that?

It was cold. That's why. He was just trying to be a gentleman, your brain kept on reasoning with you. 

Your heart though, was saying otherwise. Maybe he likes you! Maybe he’s realized that--

You coughed. Once, twice. And then, you were falling to your knees as petals fell onto your shirt and dropped stained your clothes, your lap. Everything. Metallic rust engulfed your nose and you gratefully accepted the tissue that your best friend offered you. 

“You good?” his breath brushed against your cheek, concerned orbs ablaze. 

You wished you could get over him. You wished you could steer your heart away.

You nodded weakly, wiping away the remnants of blood and wishing that you could die right then and there from the embarrassment of being so openly weak and disgusting when he was around. 

But he merely grabbed the tissue from your hold and proceeded to wipe away at the corner of your lips. Your heart tugged in your chest, relishing in his gentle touches as you allowed yourself to bask in his attention. Even for a little while.

There was no way you could forget Seo Changbin. Even if you tried.

-----

"How are you really?” 

You rolled your eyes, a smile dancing across your lips as you exited the library with Chan in tow, “you’re such a worry-wuss.” 

“Hey, I’m asking out of concern,” Chan chides in that fatherly manner of his that always made you feel safe somehow, “I never see you around anymore because Changbin steals you away.” 

“Aw, don’t be jealous,” you reached out to ruffle his hair before he had the chance to duck away, “you’re still my secret favourite. But don’t tell Changbin that. Otherwise he’ll just sulk for days.” 

“You make it sound so tempting,” Chan wriggles his brows in a teasing manner while you strode towards the parking lot. It was a late Friday evening and you had planned to meet up at the nearest Burger joint with Changbin and some of the other boys whom you hadn’t seen in a while and it was no surprise that you had decided to take advantage of Chan a your driver for the night. 

“Who else is coming with us?” 

“Changbin said he’d come but you know how he is,” Chan re-adjusted his backpack over his shoulder, “maybe we should call him if he doesn’t show up by the time we get to the car.” 

Evidently, there was no sign of the said raven-haired man as you walked up to Chan’s red Mazda. That prompted you to call him, only to turn and spot his figure by the main flight of stairs with the girl you now knew as Yoreum.

You waited for that ache. For that burning sensation like alcohol was slipping down your throat, hands clenching around your phone. 

The pain was there, you could feel it under your tongue.

But you didn’t cough. Nothing pushed at the back of your trachea.

You blinked, perplexed for a moment. Maybe this wasn’t Yoreum after all? 

Or maybe Changbin was forcing himself to suppress his feelings. For your sake? 

That wouldn’t make sense. Changbin had said so himself. He wasn’t the kind of person to be forcing himself into situations. That’s what you loved the most about him, after all.

You tried not to ponder over it too much during dinner, hand unconsciously going to your chest and feeling your heart slowly beating under your clothed chest. Weird, you couldn’t help thinking. Why?

Maybe you were dying. Maybe you were going to die.

Or maybe...just maybe, you were slowly moving on.

Impossible.

"So are you dating her or not?” 

It was one of your friends-- Felix-- who brought you back to reality, blinking before realizing that the question was aimed at none other than the man whom had preoccupied your thoughts over the last hour.

Changbin leaned over, placing his elbows on the table as he sipped his beer, “we’re not dating.” 

“I thought you liked her,” Minho pointed out.

“Can we not talk about this now?” you would’ve missed the way Changbin’s dark orbs flickered over to you if you hadn’t been paying attention. But you did, and that hurt a little bit more than you liked to admit. You loved him, but that didn’t mean that you wanted to know nothing of his personal life either. 

Nevertheless, you decided that keeping your mouth shut would not hurt either, knowing that it might trigger some more coughing on your part. Nobody knew after all, that you were slowly being eaten away by plants growing in-between your lungs.

More oftentimes than not, Chan would urge you to go see a doctor, “just to see what the condition’s like,” he’d press you constantly, “you never know. Maybe it's getting better. Maybe you're getting better."

"There's only one explanation for that, Chan. And that would be that Changbin doesn't love Yoreum anymore," you smiled faintly, "and we both know that's not true."

Still, you couldn't help hoping that your condition was a sign that maybe you still had a chance at life. Part of you was curious as to whether there had been a change in Changbin's heart -- maybe even in yours -- but there was no denying the fact that it would be misplaced, especially in the context.

As you found yourself spending more and more time in Changbin's presence, you couldn't help but wonder whether he was pushing Yoreum aside just to accomodate you, and that thought was enough to make you feel guilty.

"Why don't you invite her?" You asked aloud once, when Changbin dragged you along for some bubble tea in the late hours of the evening. 

He’d stared at you silently for a solid minute. 

"Why would I do that?"

His question threw you off. You shot him a look as the said shop came into view, "isn't it obvious?"

"No."

You stopped in mid-walk, scowled at him, "I don't want you compromising your time."

"I'm not."

"But don't you want to spend time with her?"

At this point, his expression had morphed from confusion to infuriation and if you didn't know better, you'd say he was getting agitated.

He looked away, "I want to spend time with you."

Your heart stuttered, breath suddenly catching in your throat at his blunt statement. You hadn't expected him to be so forward about it, albeit the fact that he was merely speaking in terms of friendship. So you decided to drop the subject for now and kept on pondering it over in your head as you laid to rest that night. Knowing him, those set of words probably didn’t mean much. To you though? It meant everything.

You tried not to let your heart get ahead of yourself.

When it got warm enough, it was Changbin’s idea to drive you up to the coast when you had mentioned that you enjoyed listening to the sound of the ocean waves after a long, hard week. Especially after a long, hard week. It was no surprise that you were touched at his gesture, yet finding it bittersweet how he wasn’t exactly yours to lose even when he was right here, by your side. 

There was something nostalgic about knowing that your days were counted, and while you had been feeling a little bit better these past few days, your questions had been answered by the internet; that this was just the calm before the storm. 

In other words, there was more chance of you dying than living through that rare disease. 

“Say Changbin,” you spoke aloud when you descended from the car, a pack of beer tucked under your arm and a bag of snacks in his while making your way towards the golden beach glimmering in the afternoon sun. 

“Hm?” you felt his dark orbs on your face. 

You kept looking forward, feeling the sand slip through toes in bliss, “thank you,” you murmured, “for doing this.” 

He was quiet for a few seconds. Then, replied, “don’t thank me. You make yourself sound like a charity case.” 

Isn’t that what I am? You couldn’t help but think to yourself with bitterness. Settling over a comfortable spot and curling your knees up to your chest, you gratefully accepted the cold beer that Changbin handed to you -- after he’d cracked it open like the gentleman that he was -- and let out a soft breath, eyes finding solace in the waves lapping up the shore.

“How’s your coughing?” he broke the comfortable silence.

“It’s actually not bad,” you started tracing circles with the tip of your index finger in the sand, the roughness of particles slightly stinging your skin, “I haven’t had a bad spell since that supermarket incident.” 

He hummed in response, took a sip of his beer, but didn’t say anything in response. The comfortable silence washed over you and you allowed yourself to get lost in the feeling of the sun prickling at your skin, at the scent of salt in the air with every wave that brushed forward with the current. 

This was the place to be. For a quiet, waking moment, you could imagine that your life was endless. That you’d live till the very end, die old and wrinkly and with a full stomach. 

Your fingers unconsciously clenched around your beer bottle. If only.

If only.

“I know why,” Changbin suddenly blurted out.

Your head swivelled towards him, eyebrow raised, “huh?” 

“I know why,” he hesitated, “why you’re not coughing as much anymore.” 

Something stirred in your chest as you stared him down, cogs already turning in your brain. What was he getting at? 

“I--” was it your imagination or were his cheeks redder than they had been a few minutes ago? You kept on staring him down as he struggled to find the right words, stumbled over them with the clumsiness of a five year old, “I--I realized something. Ever since.” 

“Ever since?” 

“Ever since you told me you loved me.” 

If he was blushing, then you had flushed the colour of a fire engine. God, why did he have to put it so bluntly? 

“What--”You swallowed thickly while turning away to gulp down some beer, if not to cool yourself down, “what did you realize?” 

And that was when you felt the warmth of his fingers ghost over your chin. He cupped it in his hold, turning your face over so that you had no choice but to clash eyes as he slowly traced over your features with a gaze that seemed to speak volumes. That only caused your confusion to grow by tenfold. 

“What?” You spluttered out, not really used to the closeness of his mouth that was hovering dangerously close. You hadn’t realized that his other hand had trailed down to your side until you felt him pull you a little closer, making your breath hitch slightly.

“Cha--Changbin? What--What are you doing?” You all but squeaked out. This was unknown territory. This was Changbin, and he...

He loved someone else.

So why was he cradling you in his hold as though you were the finest piece of silk that he feared would tear apart with the slightest brusque gesture?

And why, oh why was his orbs swimming with that unidentifiable emotion that made your stomach churn and butterflies to erupt through your middle and tickle at your abdomen? Why was he looking at you like that? Why? 

Your questions were soon interrupted by the sensation of his mouth on yours. 

It was warm, and soft, and tentative, and no sooner did you blink that it was over, leaving you to gape at him like a stupid fish out of the water. Changbin, meanwhile, kept on gazing at you, as if gauging your reaction.

The only thing that managed to make it out of your lips was, “What?”

He allowed his lips to respond in his stead. He kissed your next breath away. And the next. And the next. Until your heart almost leaped out of your chest, until your body felt like it was tingling with electricity all over and until you couldn’t help but kiss back slightly, jumping as he let out a soft noise of approval.

When you pulled apart for air, his dark pupils kept on darting back and forth between your eyes and your open mouth and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think that he was resisting the urge to kiss you once more. 

“Changbin?” you whispered, “please tell me...” tears started brimming through your eyes, “please tell me this isn’t...just because--”

“No,” he looked horrified, “no, no Y/N. Of course not--”

“Then why are you doing this?” you were slowly pulling out of his grasp, reality crashing through you like waves, “why are you giving me hope when--when you love someone else--” 

“But that’s it, Y/N,” Changbin’s hands scrambled to find yours, “I don’t love anyone else. I--I thought I did. Maybe I did, because you wouldn’t have coughed so much if not. But then--Things changed, I don’t know. When you told me you were dying, it--it scared me. It scared me so fucking much, Y/N,” emotion clogged up his throat, eyes turning just as wet as yours. It wasn’t every day that you got to see Changbin without his walls up, “I didn’t--I don’t want to lose you. I tricked myself into believing I was into someone else. But when that--that happened, I--” he shook his head, eyes squeezing shut as though forcing himself to forget the pain etched into memory, “I realized I was just trying to run away from what I really wanted, all along.” 

He brought your hands up slowly to his lips before he pressed a soft, chaste kiss upon your knuckles, “I’m sorry,” he croaked out, “I never wanted to hurt you. Seeing you, so much blood. There was so much blood every time you--” 

He couldn’t help but burst into soft, broken sobs and your heart broke to watch him struggle to catch a hold of himself. Arms winding around him to pull him into your embrace, your hands went to stroke the back fo his head as the man in your arms cried like you’d never seen him cry before. It was a scene that literally tore your heart out and wrenched it sideways; to see Changbin in so much pain that he’d had to hold in whenever he was by your side and seeing you hurt. It pained you, it hurt you. So much so that tears silently cascaded down your cheeks, pressing yourself a little closer to him for comfort.

He calmed down after a while, slowly relaxing into your hold so that you were the one holding him close to your chest as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck. The day was long gone, replaced by the evening hues of deep blue mixing in with vivid purple where the sun met the darkening sky, and though there was a slight chill in the air, Changbin’s strong arms looped around your waist did the trick to keep you warm.

“Don’t leave.” 

He called out your name and you hummed in response, awaiting for his next set of words while playing with his hair. The reality of the situation had slowly sunk onto your shoulders when you’d held him in your arms; that he loved you, loved you enough that you had stopped coughing altogether. 

His voice was laced with so much raw pain that your throat clogged up with emotion. 

“I won’t,” you murmured back, knowing that deep in your heart, you’d try your best to keep pushing forward, to keep loving him.

“Promise me,” he nuzzled his nose into your neck, the action causing your heart to flutter. Then, lifting himself up so that he was hovering above you once more, you couldn’t help but admire the way the moonlight bathed the planes of his face. He looked softer, more ethereal in that light.

Your fingers went up, cradling his cheek in your palm, “I promise.” 

And then he kissed you some more; a silent promise, a reassurance, a way to prove to you that he loved you just as much as you loved him, a way to show you that his heart only beat when you were around.

His heart would beat for you, just like yours did.

[missinghan]

falling for the first time ⤖ bang chan

❖ genre : hogwarts au; fluff

❖ word count : 2,1k.

❖ warning : explicit language

❖ summary : your plan of putting all effort into avoiding bang chan as much as possible has been going smoothly for almost seven years until he asks you for a dance at the Yule Ball. or alternatively, your families hate each other but wait...has he always had those golden flecks in his eyes?

❖ author’s note : here’s the song they’re dancing to 🖤

one.

The once cold ballroom has waited for eons it seems, for a real heart to beat a new rhythm into the matter that made it. 

Meanwhile, you too have been waiting (for two-ish hours) in the corner with your cup of root beer abandoned at a table for your dance partner. You’re currently half-clutching your dress and half-panicking because Chan wouldn’t miss an event as extravagant as the Yule Ball. He’s not the type to be sour over little things either just because he didn’t win the Triwizard Tournament. Or perhaps someone else just happened to ask him? 

A blood-curdling shriek bursts your eardrums. 

Jeongin gives you a nudge with his elbow from behind. “Grilled scream-cheese?” he asks with a mouthful of gluten and carbs, a plate of a sandwich with a (literally) screaming slice of cheese slapped in the middle. 

“No, my appetite is ruined,” you say, pushing it away slightly and heaving an audible sigh. 

The Ravenclaw boy makes an alarming noise—something similar to ‘uh-oh’ and swallows the big bite from before as fast as he can. “Where’s Chan?”

You only shrug, “Don’t know. Don’t care.” If only you could do that with the train of thoughts that have been going in and out of your ears for the past a hundred and twenty minutes. 

“Y/N, you look troubled,” he purses his lips, frowning at you. 

“I’m not,” you voice in denial, trying your best not to come off as snappy. No, you will not give up your facade that easily. You won’t leave Chan’s ego nor Jeongin to rest without a fight by saying that you actually want to dance with the heathen!

“Yeah right, let me-“

“Don’t. What if he’s already asked someone else?” You momentarily shudder at how sad you sound. The root beer shouldn’t have hit you this hard. “I mean look at him, he’s Bang Chan. I’m pretty sure those girls from Beauxbatons have been eyeing him up and down since the Tournament.” 

Jeongin lets out a huff of laughter in disbelief. “Are you even hearing yourself right now?”

“One of you guys could have asked me. Or I should have paid Jisung to be my partner yesterday. I just, I don’t know, what am I saying? I’m confused.”

Your friend is officially done with your bullshit so he decides for himself that he will now set down his food to make your first and last Yule Ball arguably unforgettable. “Honestly? I can lie and say I would dance with you if you weren’t so full of pride. But truth is, none of us asked you to dance because we all know how badly Chan wants this opportunity. Wake the fuck up! He’s been planning this since forever. I’ll go look for him, wait here,” he points a finger at you before running off, leaving your heartbeat pause awkwardly like a broken record. 

The ballroom feels significantly colder now. 

“Miss Y/N?”

Ah, perfect timing. What’s another way to phrase ‘being an absolute idiot at a ball’? Oh right, it’s ‘talking to your professor five minutes before the first dance while your friends are socializing left and right’. 

“Yes, Headmistress McGonagall?”

Your professor peers around when she realizes that you’re all alone. “Are you and Mister Bang ready?”

“R-ready?” Suddenly, you feel out of place. 

“Well, of course. It’s only traditional that the three champions start the first dance!”

“Oh.”

two. 

Only the celestial bodies above can know how melancholy you are. But you’re met with a sky without stars tonight. 

With your head on your elbows, lips pressed into a straight line, your gaze falls from the endless canvas of darkness to the hustle and bustle of students leaving the Great Hall to head back to their designated dormitories. A sigh. You definitely don’t need to know what they’re going to do for the after-party. Ryujin used to show you an article on this peculiar machine called ‘a laptop’ that the more you sigh, the faster you age. If Chan keeps doing shit like this to you, you’re gonna be all old and wrinkly by the time he comes here. 

If he is going to show up at all that is. 

The moment you peel your eyes away from the overcrowded main gate, a broad figure is shuffling himself through his drunk Quidditch teammates, sloppy couples, and burnt out professors. He dashes through the empty hallways to reach the spiral staircase, skipping three steps at a time, risking the chances of falling on his face just to get to you. 

Pulling himself to a halt at the last step, Chan sees you all curled up against the balcony railings and feels a pang of guilt wash over his innards like a wave. You’re pulling your legs toward your chest, defeated eyes gazing into the space ahead while your hair falls to your face messily. Like you’ve gone through the depths of the Fourth Dimension, struggling through dark matters and a rite of divinity at the end of the line. All for him. 

You’re beautiful. 

And the amount of affection that’s piling upon his rib cage? Astronomical. 

Your gaze is averted away; even with a slight scowl, sloppy clothes and messed up hair, you still flare radiance. He thinks that if a meteor shower is happening right now, you can still outshine it. “You came,” you mention. 

For once, Chan finds himself at a loss for words. “Y-Yeah,” he manages to swallow. Yeah? What the fuck, Chan? Is that all you’ve got to say? 

“I-I’m sorry, Y/N. Yeji accidentally mistook one of Minho’s potions for her allergy medicine so I gotta take care of that before coming,” he scratches his forearm awkwardly, head hung low with guilt. “I didn’t know it would take that long…”

“Oh.” Wow, jealous stinks. This isn’t pre-school, you’d better snap out of it. “Let’s head back. I wanna check on her before passing out.” 

“She’s fine now, sleeps like death. Chaeryeong is there too, you know, just in case.” Chan feels perplexed as he tries to coax anything but the ‘head back’ option from you. 

You tilt your head. “And...?”

“I’m afraid you owe me something?” A slow smile begins to outstretch upon his facial muscles, deepening the dimples on either side of his cheeks that you adore the most. “A dance, I believe,” he makes a thinking face while striding toward you. 

Coldly, you stand up to dust your dress. “I don’t want to.” You’re not having it, he can tell. But does Bang Chan ever give up? 

“A bet is a bet, Y/N.”

Chan’s hand fishes inside the pocket of his trench coat to take out his wand. His hand delicately gives it a swift flick; once, and twice followed by a low mumble from his lips. Immediately, light pulses from the tip of the wand before shooting upward, disintegrating into a million bits as though a starry night is embracing the both of you. He does the same action again to cast a different spell. Music laces through every fiber of air without effort, like honey being poured into your ears. 

“It’s just one bet,” he pouts with a hand fully extended toward you. 

You should have realized how good Chan looks tonight. A black dress shirt that’s buttoned below appropriate, matching trench coat, silver accessories lining his fingers and ears with naturally tousled hair from running here. He looks so gorgeous that it almost suffocates you, that it almost makes you want to hiss ‘fucking unfair’ out loud. 

Enchanted by his poise and grace, your body reacts without the consent of your mind. You seize up when you unknowingly place your hand on top of his, the touch sending electricity down your spine. A simple response has become all too complicated for your brain to process. 

You grow breathless the moment he grabs you by the waist and pulls you flush against him. “Yeah, a bet so you’ll leave me alone,” you remark sarcastically to ease your nerves. 

“Look, it’s not my fault that the Goblet of Fire chose me to participate in the Tournament,” Chan chuckles lowly, eyes crinkling into crescent moon shapes while he sways you to the soft melody. Dots of light continue to float around weightlessly, reflecting the golden flecks in his eyes. He’s ethereal in the worst way—the way that isn’t healthy for your heart. 

But you soon slap on another scowl when you realize he just reminded you of why you’re even here in the first place. If only you weren’t so salty about Slytherin winning your team over at the final Quidditch match before the holiday occurs. Let’s just say you weren’t exactly in the best mind state after getting your ass kicked in your favorite sport. 

And Chan wasted no time to slip in between the line of comical humor and your ultimate torment. Which results in—if you get to attend the Triwizard Tournament, he will leave you alone for the rest of your life; but if he is the chosen one, he gets a dance with you at the Yule Ball. 

It’s really not all that bad if you think twice about it. Dancing with Bang Chan, the Slytherin’s Quidditch team captain, the student with perfect academics and conduct for six years straight, and now one of the Triwizard Tournament champions this year. 

Music threads through the atmosphere and lifts away gravity. You can’t count how many times you have stepped on his toes due to nervousness because you’re too much of a coward to look him in the eye. But he’s the only thing you can seem to focus on right now. 

“Besides, don’t you think this is a good opportunity to get rid of the tension between us?” Chan asks honestly, and this causes you to perk up. 

“What?”

Lights are twinkling with every step as Chan spins you around gently, your dress billowing out prettily as your heels click against the cold concrete. After that, he swiftly pulls you back into his arms and you exhale in relief like you were meant to be there all this time. 

“Don’t act dumb, you’re terrible at it. I know the only reason why you’ve been avoiding me since first year was because of our families’ stupid grudge. ”

Your eyes are cast downward, sadness glinting in your round pupils. “Either way, my parents wouldn’t like to see me talking to you. And look at what we’re doing. It’s going to be catastrophic if they find out.”

“Well, they can’t just magically appear now, can they?” Chan leans a little closer to lock his eyes with yours. 

And you break it seconds later because you’re an absolute coward for a Gryffindor. “We’re attending a magic school. Anything is possible.”

“Did they even tell you what the actual problem was in the first place?” he huffs out in faint annoyance. 

You shake your head. “I don’t think they’d even remember.”

“Then would you stop giving me that look as if I just shooed your owl way every time I said ‘hi’ on my way to class? Have you ever thought about my feelings? About us being civil for once? Like friends? Or even more so?”

“I-“ 

“We’re not our parents, Y/N.”

Your heart becomes all erratic at his words. It’s nothing like those fully-fledged, tear-jerking nor cheesyass confessions that you’ve gawked at one too many times, but it makes your heart flutter and stirs up those cliché butterflies inside your stomach. This can’t be compared to the Yule Ball—it’s even better than that. Because it feels as though you and Chan are the only presences that graze the surface of this land. There’s no one to judge, no fingers to point, no gossip spreading like wildfire. 

It’s perfect. Almost. 

“Us...it’s not- it can’t happen. It’s not supposed to happen. It’s not possible, Chan.”

Wordlessly, he stops, moves both of your hands to his shoulders, and wraps his arms around your torso. The sound of your heartbeat against his is so in sync they just drown out the music completely. Time is frozen in place, leaving you to hang on the edge with him, hanging onto this single moment as thin as the red string of fate. You’re waiting for him to do something, say something. 

Just then, Chan cracks a wry smile and pulls you closer by the nape of your neck, resting his forehead comfortably on yours. “We’re attending a magic school. Anything is possible.”

[c-optimistic]

Great! I asked because if you didnt take prompts I wanted to be respectful of it, also okay if you dont feel like doing it or if you take your time, I admire and appreciate all your work. It's an angsty one😅 after the supergirl reveal, all the events and their drifting apart, Kara and Lena are rekindling their friendship, kara tells lena she's in love with her, lena confesses her feelings too but tells kara that after everything they cant be more than friends, angst here, then a happy ending 😁

“You’re my Lois,” she said softly, almost to herself. 

(It had been on her mind for days and weeks and months now, words she was afraid to fully verbalize, thoughts and feelings she wasn’t sure she quite wanted to string into something coherent. 

But now, in the silence, in their solitude, the words slipped out as easy as breathing, slipped out without her consent, her knowledge, her desire.)

Lena didn’t turn towards her, just wrapped her arms tighter around herself to stave off the chilly bite of the air. “I don’t know what that means,” she finally offered, voice terribly soft, eyes still focused on the city lights below them. 

(National City was beautiful in the fall. Parks turned orange and yellow and red, pumpkins and cartoon turkeys and the strong scent of cinnamon could be found on every street corner. Jackets got dusted off and pulled on, scarves wound their way around people’s necks, the smell of hot chocolate seemed to permeate the air. 

And Lena looked at home in the fall. Her hair was down more often than not, gentle curls framing her face. She was wrapped in soft sweaters and warm colors, looking gentler, calmer, more at ease.

And she was, in every way, Kara’s Lois.) “It’s...I—well.” Explaining was harder than she thought. Giving meaning to what she said was harder than she expected. “You’re the one I’d spin the world the opposite direction for, you know?” “Don’t be ridiculous, Kara,” Lena scoffed, turning away from the city and meeting Kara’s eyes briefly before walking through the sliding glass doors and back into her apartment. Kara followed sullenly behind. “What good would that even do?” “Turns back time,” Kara joked softly, watching Lena pour herself a glass of wine. Once maybe, days and weeks and months ago, she would have offered Kara a glass as well. Now she just set the bottle aside and sipped slowly, as if daring Kara to comment. “Why would you want to turn back time for me? And what does this have to do with Lois?” She seemed genuinely confused, and Kara realized she needed to be more direct. 

(In and of itself, it was a scary thought. She didn’t want to confess her feelings and be rebuffed. She didn’t want to tell the truth and leave herself open to...what, pain? A lack of reciprocation? Laughter at her expense?

And yet, and yet...Lena was her Lois, and she was worth it all the same.)

“What I’m trying to say,” Kara tried again, biting on her lip as she attempted to find the right words, beginning to think there were only three, not quite sure how to gather the courage to say them. “Remember Mon-El?” she said, switching tactics.

“Vaguely,” Lena responded, amused. She walked over to her kitchen, pulled out a kettle, a mug, and a packet of hot chocolate mix (an item she only kept at her place because she knew about Kara’s preference for it over tea). “What about him?” she asked as she put the water to boil, raising her eyebrow and looking at Kara expectantly. 

“When I sent him away, chose to save everyone over keeping him, Clark told me he could never do that,” Kara explained, that moment etched into her memory, inescapable and dare she say profound in the absence of feeling. “He said if it came down to keeping Lois or the world...well, he wouldn’t know what to do.”

Lena looked down, focusing on pouring the boiling water into the mug and adding the hot cocoa mix, stirring it in slowly. “Oh,” she whispered finally, pushing the mug towards Kara, “that’s what you mean about my being your Lois.”

“Lena, I—”

“—to be honest, though,” Lena interrupted, frowning, “I don’t think you have a Lois.” 

(Well, if anything could make those three words Kara wanted to say shrink back into their shell, it was that.

And for it to be said so casually, so abruptly, so utterly convincingly, as though there wasn’t any doubt in Lena’s mind. Well. That more than hurt, that felt vaguely offensive.)

“That’s so—”

“—you’re too,” Lena waved her hands, struggling with finding a word, “honorable,” she finally settled on. “You believe in duty, in sacrifice, in putting everyone before you.” She smiled, looking inexplicably proud, and picked up her wine glass, taking a small sip. “You’re too selfless. If it came down to it, Kara, you’d break your own heart a thousand times over for the world.” 

Kara blinked, wondering how Lena misinterpreted her. “No, Lena, I’m saying—”

“—no, I know,” Lena interrupted, setting her wine aside and walking over to stand in front of Kara, so close that Kara could practically smell the alcohol on Lena’s breath. Rather than meet Lena’s eyes, Kara kept her gaze on the ceiling. “And I love you, too. But we’re not Clark and Lois.” 

(And oh, Lena got it. She got it and she was braver than Kara, laying the words out there, giving the feelings between them a name, finally, finally, calling it what it was.

Love. She loved Lena.)

“I don’t pull off the suit as well as he does, I know,” Kara joked sadly, eyes still on the ceiling, knowing where Lena was going with this. 

(It was too soon. It was too much. It was too hard.)

“Kara,” Lena admonished, forcing Kara to meet her gaze. Kara’s vision was a little blurred, so she wasn’t quite sure if those were tears in Lena’s eyes or if her allergies were just working up again. “We can’t,” Lena told her, voice trembling. 

“Right. No. Of course.”

“Kara, after everything, being friends is hard enough, do you really—”

“—I said I got it,” Kara interrupted, blinking, horrified when her vision cleared and she felt something wet roll down her cheeks. She was crying. Crying. How utterly embarrassing. 

(She looked away again, unwilling to see pity in Lena’s expression, unwilling to confirm for herself that what was welling up in Lena’s eyes was indeed allergies. 

She looked away again, because she was willing to break her heart a thousand times over for the world, but she didn’t know how to cope with her breaking heart now.)

“I’m just.” She stopped, heaved a breath, and nodded curtly. “Just friends sounds good. But I’m going to go now.” She stepped back from Lena, practically power-walked towards the balcony door, stopping only when she felt something tug on her cape.

“Kara,” Lena began, but Kara didn’t turn. Couldn’t turn. Whatever courage Lena had been on when she’d managed to say the words Kara couldn’t seemed to fade, however, and she released her grip on Kara’s cape and pulled back. “You pull the suit off way better than him, don’t sell yourself short.” 

(It wasn’t what Lena wanted to say, Kara didn’t need the uptick of Lena’s heartbeat or the soft, regretful sigh she released a moment after the words escaped her lips. 

It wasn’t what Lena wanted to say, but it was what she did say, and Kara managed nothing more than a strangled laugh in response, taking off into the night and leaving Lena and a mug of hot chocolate untouched behind her.)

xxx

The next time she saw Lena was at game night.

(This was not for a lack of trying on Lena’s part. She’d invited Kara to lunch, to coffee, to a variety of science-related events—even Lena’s TED Talk—but Kara had declined them all, citing work or Supergirl-catastrophes.

Finally, Lena had sent a text reading just hmph, and Kara had spent the rest of the afternoon asking Nia if it was a good or bad hmph.) 

Game night, however, Kara couldn’t avoid. Namely, because it was at her own apartment. She had managed to avoid directly inviting Lena, resorting instead to a group chat message, something that had Nia shaking her head and muttering “children.” 

(And rationally, Kara knew better. She knew that she was supposed to be a better friend, that they were working on repairing their tattered and bruised friendship, that they needed to reestablish all those lines of communication and trust that had been burned to the ground. 

She knew, but she struggled. She struggled with the thought of looking at Lena and not thinking about how much she loved her, not thinking that Lena felt the same way, not thinking that had she been better—a better friend, a more honest friend, a kinder friend—then there would have been nothing in the way of her reaching out to take Lena by the hand, tug her forward, chase her lip, and—

Well. All those were things she was determinedly not trying to think of.) 

She was a bit of a mess by the time Lena arrived, looking as beautiful and breathtaking as ever, a bag of takeout in her hand, an unsure smile on her lips. 

“Are you sure?” Lena whispered, not entering Kara’s apartment. “If this is too much—”

“—I want you here,” Kara cut in, not really embarrassed by how desperate she sounded. Because now that she was looking at Lena, she forgot why she had wanted to maintain distance in the first place. Self-preservation no longer seemed very important to her. “I always want you with me.” 

“As a friend,” Lena added, cheeks flushed, suddenly very interested in her shoes, her heart pounding away, teeth digging into her bottom lip. 

Kara wasn’t sure what it all meant. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know. So instead, she responded with the honesty she should’ve afforded Lena sooner—the honesty her best friend was owed. “In any capacity you’ll have me,” she said.

Lena didn’t respond, but as she walked by to enter Kara’s apartment, the fingers of her free hand ran over the inside of Kara’s hand, barely brushing over Kara’s palm, really, and it was like an electric shock, leaving Kara paralyzed to the spot until Alex took pity on her and unrooted her—physically dragging her over to the food and games.

(And the entire night, as Kara flexed the hand Lena touched repeatedly, she noticed that every time she looked over at Lena, Lena was already looking at her.

And the entire night, as Nia muttered “children” under her breath, Kara began to hope.)

xxx

As the weeks dragged on and Lena showed no signs of wanting anything to evolve between them, much of that hope evaporated. She was only holding onto the last tendrils when she had to show up at L-Corp (again) to stop some madman’s mad henchmen from trying to kill Lena (again). 

When the men were appropriately stopped and detained, Kara found herself on the balcony with Lena (again), staring out at the city (this too, again). Lena wasn’t drinking anything, and she wasn’t dressed in her soft sweaters. Instead, she was wearing a navy suit, hair pulled tightly back, hands in her pockets as she leaned against the balustrade, eyes on Kara. 

“You took awhile to get here,” Lena finally said, and Kara turned to her, a little offended.

“There was a fire, Lena. I had to make sure it was out before—”

“—but I thought I was your Lois?” she interrupted, with more than a little snark. Kara straightened, standing at her full height as she approached Lena.

“First of all, low blow. Secondly, you said it yourself, I don’t have a Lois. Maybe you need to find a less honorable friend,” Kara told her, eyes narrowed. 

Lena didn’t look sorry. If anything, she seemed...content. “I’ve been thinking about it, you know?” She tugged her hands out of her pockets, and Kara thought her heart slammed to a halt when Lena reached out and placed her hands on Kara’s shoulders, drawing her in. “I think the truth is,” she continued, hands sliding across Kara’s shoulders, interlocking behind Kara’s neck, “you’re my Lois. Because there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep you, even give up a chance at something more, something I really want, because I was scared it wouldn’t work and I’d lose you completely.” 

“Something you really want, huh?” Kara said, her heart jumpstarting at the feeling of Lena’s fingers against her neck, at the way Lena’s thumbs rubbed gently against the base of her skull, at the way Lena leaned up, pressing their foreheads together. “Are you still scared?”

“Terrified,” Lena breathed. “But I figure I could be a little more like you, potential heartbreak and all.”

Kara tried to nod, managing nothing more than gently head-butting Lena and making her laugh. “We probably need to figure out a better way to describe how we feel about each other, I think my cousin and Lois may get concerned—”

“—Kara?” Lena interrupted, pulling away just a bit.

“Yeah?”

“We can definitely talk about this if you want. Or you could just kiss me. Whichever you prefer.” 

(In the end, it was an easy choice.

And judging from the way Lena sighed into her mouth, she felt the same way.)

[mmysstical]

SPIRITUAL HYGIENE… Part 2

Or rather… how to tell you've got a big problem on your hands.

image credit

Here's the second part of this as promised. Nota bene: this is the heavy-duty kind of spiritual hygiene, the "reset button" of cleansing. If you don't find your daily upkeep in there, it's normal. See my notes afterwards. However, I found that while you can find ways to cleanse, there is no real checklist of problematic stuff. You find tons of posts about "good omens" and "signs of the universe" but nothing about the "red flags" or how bad you are doing. So I decided to make one after I read on twitter that cockroaches were positive signs.

When do you need to cleanse?

Cleansing is important, but when and how often should I do it ? How long should the cleansing process be ? What can I cleanse ? What can bed used to cleanse?

CAVEAT. As I've said, this is the post to check if you need heavy duty cleanse, and some ways to do it. However, please note that if you tick too many boxes, and you can't get rid of an issue, you should seek professional occult help. I do when it's too bad.

First: you cleanse yourself and your space. Trust me you’ll need that before you cleanse anything else. You cleanse yourself before AND after you did your space.

Your space includes your room, your yard/garden, your doors, your fence and main entry point (eg. the gate), their immediate surroundings (so the patch of road/building right outside your home), your vehicle(s). Please also cleanse your bag and shoes. Apply what’s relevant to you.

When to cleanse ?

Firstly: if it crosses your mind, especially if you’ve got into a routine of doing it, go do it. It doesn't have to be big every time. Consistency is key. But below, in "The signs" section, are indicators to gauge when you’ll need one (or several) cleanses.

Please equalise factors such as season, humidity, natural and habitual processes first before using that list to gauge.

THE SIGNS

A bit ominous but hey this is not the love and light post. Before jumping to occult-related conclusions, eliminate mundane factors. These should be happening in an otherwise cared-for home to be a sign of a cleanse.

Unnaturally fast and sizeable accumulation of dust, trash, mess.

Things perish fast - grow mould, rot or go bad unusually fast.

Please check that there isn’t a water leak, bad isolation, etc. before blaming spiritual stuff.

Your house seem unusually dark, lacking light, unwelcoming, ominous, stuffy. Might be hard to breathe in. Flickering and/or low lights.

Once again this should be happening after you took all necessary precautions to eliminate allergies, low electricity or broken appliances into plausible causes.

Your stuff breaks often, fast.

An unnatural amount of critters and animals with negative connotations start appearing in your immediate environment. Especially if they’re out of season, appear where/when they shouldn’t, are larger and/or more numerous than usual. eg. Swarms of mosquitos in the dead of winter, at night when it's the coldest.

Examples of critters (TW insects) that are really bad omens.

capital letters for the worst ones.

COCKROACHES, FLIES (especially coffin flies)

spiders (depends on the kind but hairy spiders or the kind that only hang in abandoned places are bad omens)

centipedes and anything that has too many legs

scorpions

anything that stings and has a mean bite (fleas, mosquitos, wasps, etc.

grasshoppers

lizards

Any bird that is omen of death in your culture and/or practice. For some crows and owls are good omens, for some it’s trouble.

Also, badly hurt and seemingly mean animals. Especially at night. Use discernment here.

A common example for me is feral cats with open wounds and guttural yet human-like meows. They often stare at me with a gaze that tells me this ain’t a regular cat and usually are unmoving before they start giving you the chase lol.

Solutions:

pray lol Use anything mentioned below. Conjured or consecrated products, blessed colognes (alcohol base) and waters.

How do I cleanse ?

Your tools will be Baths, salts, smoke, water, prayers, insults (yes), eggs, incense, fire, wind (i know it starts to sound like the Last Airbender but if it works…), powders, oils, plants. Usually a combination of many of those. To be used according to your beliefs and traditions. I won't give specifics in this, but please do not mix them with toxic chemicals. Just use chemicals first to clean and scrub as you normally would. No mixing! Let them dry, before you use any spiritual product. You may mix those with water or put some on your sponges and brooms though.

—

If in doubt whatever is mentioned in the holy scriptures of the religion of your country is probably a good starting point. Or in the holy books of the 3 monotheisms. That would include water, incense, prayers, mantras, Hadiths, etc, and some plants. Chances are that if something has natural antibacterial or anti-fungal properties it probably has cleansing spiritual properties (eg. Rue, eucalyptus, hyssop, alcohol, salt, incense resins etc). If used to keep the yuck away, then you bet it’s gonna remove it off of you.

NB: always patch test on a hidden corner of something, especially if you use alcohol or solvent-based products, if you are cleaning water-sensitive surfaces (wood, leather, etc.), areas exposed to heat and light, or anything precious to you in any regard. Do not hesitate to wipe and dry right away or use any gentle motion you deem necessary.

If you see anything suspicious DUMP IT IN A TRASH FAR AWAY FROM YOUR HOME. not in your kitchen trash, not in the trash chute or common trash. If you have checked too many of the points above, but didn't find a really weird thing, do it anyways. Some people dump suspicious organic matter in the sea, lay it to rest in the forest, someplace in nature and pay whatever spiritual entity to take it away from their home. However, please consult your local laws first, then your spirits, then your gut and act at your own discretion.

HOW TO CLEANSE ?

Wash walls, wash floor. Wash entry points (doorways, window sills, don’t forget any knobs and joints). Wash corners, wash underneath furniture, shake/beat carpets if possible, otherwise vacuum them. Wipe furniture down. Clean plinths. Clean the ceiling. Clean places where contact happens often (the area near switches, your desk surface, a particular place on your closet’s door where you grab jt). Don’t hesitate to move or lift things especially if people came into the room(s).

TL:DR.

Dust, rot, and anything remotely associated with pestilence/decay in any way -> urgent need to cleanse several times until you’re seeing lasting, dramatic results. And then protection. Do not hesitate to seek help from a trustworthy practitioner if you can. Love and light stuff might not work.

Whenever you see your mood or cleaning not last long, or things start to go sideways in a myriad of small ways, time to cleanse everything before it gets worse. This needs upkeep/maintenance.

[peachysnzs]

genshin snz headcanons

i caved here are literally All my genshin snz headcanons cause im thinkin so hard rn

albedo

def sneezes in fits but tries to stifle whenever possible

uses his elbow most of the time, but sometimes when hes especially deep in a fit he ends up just sneezing desperately in the air

quiet and breathy

tries to make his sneezes as discrete as possible but the further in fits he gets, the more desperate his sneezes sound

every time he has a buildup to a sneeze, he kinda just shudders leadin up to it yknow

he always tries to be cautious and not get anyone sick when he is sick bless him

ok this fucker inhabits an ice mountain theres no way he doesnt get at least a *couple* colds

mona

sneezes in likes twos, threes

this is so unoriginal bcs hydro vision but like her sneezes are def at least a bit wet-sounding

uses tissues when avaliable, but if not she just kinda turns to the side

loud and high-pitched

she sneezes relatively suddenly and it takes her by surprise sometimes

tbh mona feels like somebody who’d have allergies and being all sniffly and miserable looking and still try to deny that shes allergic to anything and that youre stupid for thinking so. very tsundere.

speaking of sniffly her nose probably just constantly runs like a tap when shes sick

she wouldnt even try to keep her germs to herself and would be disgusted at sick ppl even if she was the one to get you sick

hu tao

literally almost never sneezes* but when she does its singles

uses her elbow and covers her mouth, ty hu tao for being a good snz role model

kinda low and naturally soft

long ass fucking buildups! her nose just kinda itches for a whole two minutes and her breath wavers before she sneezes quickly

so for the asterisk * i kinda lied, she sneezes up a storm only when sick, she has kinda a subpar immune systme so whenever shes sick she just is stuck with sneezng consistently through the whole day til shes dizzy

jean

also sneezes in singles, occasional doubles

alternates between using hankerchiefs if avaliable or just her elbow

i feel like jean is the type of person to like excuse herself right before succumbing to a fit

small sneezes, decently graceful

i feel like shed had a dust allergy honestly

jean literally will not take sick days even when she has awful colds, and while she tries not to get ppl sick she does a kinda awful job at it

amber

two to four usually

elbow once again, but sometimes when shes gliding she cant really use her arms so she just sneezes in the air

squeaky def, high pitched

she def has hayfever and one day opens her glider and its just covered in pollen

no build ups to her sneeze, just a sharp inhale and then the snz

eula

we already saw her snz so

either single sneezes or long ass fits, no inbetween

sneezes into her gloves, but when her sneezes start to get messy she switches to a hankerchief

breathy and feminine

cyro characters get colds cause i say so

no fr tho eula just miserable w a cold and just constantly having to duck foward and sneeze into her gloves

half of her cold is her denying shes sick even when she looks absolutely horrible and the other half is complaining about how miserable she feels and demanding people to do things for her

childe

doubles usually

he sneezes into the air or in his hands this fucker would never sneeze in his elbow

messy and desperate

long! ass! fucking! buildups! he tries to hide the hitching with his builds ups but hes not at all good at it

his sneezes get so much messier the sicker he is, until hes practically just dripping

dont be decieved by the way he hides being sick, he desperately craves being coddled whenever hes sick because of his home life

suprisingly good at caretaking

diluc

triples and quadruples i feel like

elbow primarily, but sometimes uses tissues

loud and rough

he tries so hard to hide his allergies but it never works because his sneezes are always so loud

fuck it give him all the allergies

his voice gets stuffy so quickly when even in like a five foot vicinity of flowers, and his nose itches so much to the point where it feels like hes just constantly building up to another sneeze

has probably sneezed on someones drink at least once while he had a cold

kaeya

almost only fits and he fucking hates it

he usually pinches his nose to stifle but if he cant manage he either quickly goes for the elbow or just ducks his head down and sneezes towards the floor

shaky and itchy-sounding if that makes sense

yknow that little gasp people do sometimes before sneezing i feel like hed do that

never takes sick days unless forced to by jean or diluc, and ends up shambling through his daily tasks shaky and feverish and sneezy

he tries to stifle but it really does not work

rosaria

singles, and if u catch her sneezing she’ll probably make you swear to silence

literally just in the elbow

honestly i feel like shed sneeze like a kitten, or just really high and femme

she sees being sick/allergic as a sign of weakness so fights sneezing very hard. like u can see the visible effort she makes pinching her nose and shit after her breath hitches even once

also one of those dumbasses that stifle way too much and doesnt take sickdays

ningguang

doubles unless shes allergic, then its fits

she has a fancy ass lace hankerchief she carries w her speficially for snzs to look ‘proper’

she forces her sneezes to be elegant, sneezing naturally is loud tho

small buildups but v audible breaths building up to a sneeze

she has a good immune system but when she does get sick she gets it bad and tries to cover up her flushed face and red nose with makeup

without people around her she just lets herself be miserable while sneezes, lettting out small little “..guh...” after a particularly bad fit

beidou

doubles or triples

beidou would also like never use her elbow, shed sneeze in her fist even if the sneeze is messy as hell

loud and proud of it

look all im saying is beidou is a walking health hazard whenever sick, she doesnt try at all to keep colds to herself and can and wil sneeze into her hand only to shake yours seconds later 

no buildups, just sudden sneezes that scare the shit out of people tho

very very fucking messy

half the time does not care if shes sick, she doesnt really feel like she needs to take sick days because she doesnt feel that bad and stuff like that

lisa

singles and occasional doubles

she keeps tissues on her and uses them relatively often

delicate and proper

the idea of lisa having a dust allergy is just everything to me, like she blows off dust from a book and ends up stuck for a few minutes with her nostrils flaring until she finally sneezes desperately into a tissue

rarely gets sick, but when she does milks the hell out of it to be as lazy as possible. like “oh im feeling so awful rn, maybe a kiss will make me feel better?~”

venti

fits fits fits

hands or elbows, really depends on how hard the sneeze hits him

decently loud and a bit high pitched

look venti is an anemo god all im saying is when he sneezes the wind picks up, and when he has fits its enough to push you over

to remedy this he just avoids everyone when sick and avoids cats with a a passion

buildups are very breathy and desperate

his nose runs so much near cats and he makes a godddamn mess of himself the longer hes around them

cats absolutely love him regardless

xiao

he gets fits only bcs i say so

literally either just the air or his hands because nobody ever taught him that he should like cover his mouth properly when sneezing

quiet but messy

the idea of xiao w just torturuous buildups does something for me. he’ll be stuck there w his breath hitching and hazy eyes for like a whole minute before he finally just ducks into his hand and makes a mess of himself

he does not understand being sick and absolutely hates it when he does get sick, 100% tries to power through it and ends up a fucking mess by the end of the day

his sneezes get stuck so often

his nose gets so fucking flushed and twitchy after a while of sneezing

ganyu

doubles or triples

sneezes in her elbow most of the time

soft and low

when she gets sick she gets so sleepy, her sneezes just kinda draw all the energy outta her and she usually ends up taking a nap

shes allergic to dogs too bcs why not

she doesnt want to bother people when sick or get them sick too so she usually takes copious sickdays until shes absolutely certain that she cant get anyone sick

zhongli

triples literally always for some reason

either into his fist or into a hankerchief

low and masculine, a bit loud

doing the same god shtick with him, the floor tends to shake whenever he gets particularly sneezy and stuff on cupboards can and will fall over when in the vicinity

no buildups really, hell just be in the middle of talking and then he blinks a bit and then sneezes roughly

he doesnt really take sick days but he doesnt really deny hes sick either, just kinda tries to get through the day despite feeling awful

[slightlyunconventional]

alr um. ka/z snz hcs go

word of warning they kinda suck? because im just, idk i waffle

- i think he definitely has spring allergies like hayfever yk (definitely not inspired by One Single Line from the book)

- also wy/lan has hayfever like him but there is a difference., wy/lan takes meds for it because he's sensible and it makes it sm better for him

but k/az doesn't . because for some reason medication just makes it worse for him; he gets SO MUCH sneezier and he hates it. a lot. but sometimes it's cute

- dust allergy

yeah im like such an allergyfcker what abt it it's hot alright

i think k/az would just be so sensitive to dust and it's the one time he can't stifle/hold back properly because it's SO itchy like hello 👀

this is why he's never the one doing all the sneaking around in heists because he literally cannot

i had a stupid little scenario in my head about this it's very stupid so bear with me

so in the crows' headquarters or whatever we pretend they have a library; nothing too grand just a nice (very dusty) library with some fairly relevant books

and imagine k/az goes one day after a certain book to read cause he's bored so he goes and looks for it but he can't find it (definitely not because jes/per took it and hid it just to see k/az lose his dignity c o m p l e t e l y

so k/az is like . where is my book. and starts to minorly panic because every ounce of dignity he ever had is about to go out of the window in less than a minute bc that dust is well and truly in his system and its gonna take a lot to get it out-

so in conclusion he ends up snzing the rest of the evening throwing everyone glares that really have no impact because his entire face is a complete mess like red nose eyes watering still sniffling and like,,, so SO sensitive still it's unbelievable. he can barely hold eye contact for two seconds before he's hitching again

ok what. that scenario was a whole lot of waffle . i tried ok im tired u can let ur brains fix it

anyway continuing with hcs

- he stifles pretty much every time when he can: yk gotta keep up that cool controlled demeanor right ;)

- when he doesn't manage to stifle or hold back the sounds of the snz varies, but it's usually mid-volume and fairly vocal kind of like

"ihHk'tCHUH! ..ehihH--hK'SHUHh!"

- however if he's particularly deep in a fit, as it progresses it just kind of?? tires him out ???? so they get softer and inherently cuter in some's eyes; more of a

"h-huh'isHhu! iht'sHuh!"

- definitely muffles into his coat collar,, like that material is just so thick and welcoming who wouldn't want to

- i can see him being germophobic to an extent and gets kinda panicky when he's ill, but he knows in/ej and jes/per are always there to support <333333

- much to his dismay of course he seems to get a nasty cold every winter. always so messy and sneezy he can't keep it together

following on from that the rest of the crows definitely make bets as to when he'll FINALLY show any sign of being sick over winter

he'd come down the stairs on a snowy december morning just a few minutes later than he usually would, and in/ej can just tell by his face that it's gonna be a bad day so she just sighs and says "go back to bed"

why do i suck at writing these

- in reference to the first hc + a post i made recently he's very very sensitive to especially roses,, they make him so itchy and hitchy do not eveN

- how about with regards to just random sneezes like

not caused by anything just Happen yk

i say he sneezes in triples because that's nice

- also sometimes he stumbles a bit when he sneezes bc bad leg and all that

- oh also how i mentioned how he muffles into his collar well sometimes he doesn't right so

when he tries to hold back which is like every time, but he fails,, 9 times out of 10 he doesn't have the time to duck down and clamp his collar around his face so there's a brief moment of panic before he just has to sneeze loosely into a lifted elbow like--

"ihh-hihh..-ehHK'TSCHH!"

usually by this point it's pretty rough and sometimes messy. knocks the wind out of him for sure

- if anyone notices him so desperately trying to hold back it's just a sigh and a click of the fingers in front of his face to break his concentration, slack features and watering eyes immediately snapping forward with a likely violent sneeze absolutely ripping through him

of course that usually earns him a few snorts from around the room, possibly a sigh and shake of the head from his wraith ;)

aaaaaanyway it's getting late and that's all i can think of rn. bye byeeee

[purplerose244]

Irrational - Chapter 1: The first star in the morning

​Hello everyone!! The @spacecampweek is finally here!! 😍

I cannot wait to see all the content for these two math dorks! Here is my contribution, a collection of oneshots including all the prompts, starting with the first, “Stars”! ✨

Enjoy!! 💙💙

Summary: Seamus was going to smack that idiot of his best friend right in the head for putting him into this situation. A private moment with his little crush, sure, what a marvelous plan of his! There was only one thing he didn’t take into account: this space nerd’s absolutely terrible flirting techniques.

Read it on the AO3

“… have I… have I told you about that time I went for the tryouts of the basketball team?” Seamus huffed with superiority, mostly for the sake of breathing out some air on this overly hot day. “I’m sure you can tell, I’m a pretty athletic person. The only reason I didn’t join was because I needed to keep up my grades or whatever, school is a total pain.” He smirked towards his right. “Maybe I can bring you to the gym sometimes, teach you how to make three-pointers? I’m sure you’d like that.” His overly confident tone fell into oblivion, as silent kept prevailing. He could feel the sweat going down his neck, behind the high collar of his black jacket.

Good lord, he was wearing a leather jacket. A freaking. Leather. Jacket. When he thought this day couldn’t get any more awkward.

“Four.” Seamus jumped over his seat.

“Huh?”

“Four times.” At last, the Cantaloupian had finally raised his eyes from his phone, showing him the most annoyed look he had ever seen on a human being. “You have mentioned this casket sport of yours at least four times tonight. Merely to answer your question.” Without much of a nod or an impressed look, his pretty nose went back to the lightened-up screen. Never mind, this day had all the chances to get plenty of more awkward.

He was losing him. Oh gosh, he was totally blowing it.

This made no sense! Sure he and Tight Jeans Hank had gone out only a few times before he got head over heels for Mary, but he was totally into the three-pointer thing! Sure, making up an excuse after that on why they never actually went to the gym had been a little draining, a little shameful, but at least there was that! He wasn’t completely out of his game.

… was he? Quick, another one! Huh, what did work out with that one guy from math class before he discovered he liked astronomy better?

“Huh, uhm… you know one time we got Mrs. Janeth so mad I was called into the principal’s office, but I got out without a single problem! You didn’t expect me to be this much of a bad boy, didn’t you? Yeah, this math student is good with numbers as a cover, my call is… being… mischievous…” Oh the cringe. It was going to be all worth it if he got at least a change from the guy sitting at the passenger’s seat. “Heh, people still wonder how I did it.” He grinned towards him, wiggling his eyebrows. “I could tell you, but it has to be… our secret.” Wow. He was channeling his interior Steve. The only difference was that that knucklehead at least was actually good at sports and actually good at getting into troubles.

Heck, even Pepperjack was more of a rebel!

Ah. Silence. Not even the Cantaloupian checking his phone was making any noise.

“Uh-huh.” His eyes were still all over the screen. He didn’t even bother to give him a look this time. “Would not be much of a secret in that case, now would it.”

The blonde was starting to think there was some kind of massive secret stored into that device. His eyes fell on it. Nope, this guy was literally tapping onto apps and exiting them without doing anything. Seamus almost laugh at the awfulness of all, wondering if it was too late running out in the woods and hope his allergy was going to kill him sooner or later. Then he stumbled with his memory to Spring Fling, the date he got – that had spent most of the night making out with someone else in the bathroom, but still.

Alright, confident. An intriguing, intimidating guy, one Krel might wanna know better.

“W-well, the best part of having secrets is sharing it with others! Saying, see this bruise I have?” He pointed at his temple, panicking for a second to remember where it was. His mind went right, and he really hope he wasn’t just pointing at his cheek like an idiot. “I got into this massive fight after class, it was insane! I won’t bore you with details, the usual argument with those bozos from our rival school, but if you think this dent is bad you should see the other guys! Pretty cool huh?”

Silence again.

A sigh. It held together such an annoyed power it left him baffled for a second. Krel was narrowing his eyes so much they looked closed.

“Forgive me, I am still trying to master the art of sarcasm, so I will have to warn you beforehand: I am about to use it.” He cleared his voice. “Wow, that is impressive and totally not an idiotic behavior, thank you very much for telling me.” He made a very forced, very exaggerated smile, before dropping it while still looking at him and then going back at losing time on the phone.

More death wishes filled him. Seamus grimaced, sneezed, and checked if the windows were actually closed while grunting under his breath. He breathed through his nose, hands gripping the wheel simply to have something to do.

It was official. This was the worst first non-date of history, and it was all his fault.

… or Steve’s. Yeah, Steve’s fault sounded better.

The ground of the woods was most likely all over the wheels of dad’s car which was going to drive him mad once again, the occasional sniff of pollen into the air had been making his eyes tear up even since they got here – the windows were actually closed, how, stupid allergy –, and he was stuck there ruining all the chances he never had in the first place. Yes, it made so much more sense blaming that good for nothing jock. The only reason Seamus was there in the first place was because his Vespa was out of service – he had said something something creeper walking on the crosswalk, he had stopped listening at some point –, and he had promised his girlfriend to go back to the kissing tree as soon as the situation was calmer or whatever. Seamus, being the good friend he was – especially since Logan was grounded –, had joined in to give them a lift and wait in the car for the two lovebirds to have their mushy moments, feeling extremely single in the process.

When he had seen Aja and Steve getting out of the Tarron’s residence, Seamus had waved.

When he had seen coming along as well none other than Krel Tarron, he had briefly considered pushing onto the accelerator and leaving everyone and everything into the dust. His body had not complied – the traitor. The happy couple had positioned themselves in the back seats, with Aja saying her little brother had decided not to be a recluse for tonight, while the Cantaloupian genius had comfortably seated himself next to him, giving a smile.

A smile.

How dare he? A smile!?

It was Steve’s fault, it definitely was. There was no way Krel would have come out of his own will, it was notorious he despised social gatherings with intellectually inferior people – mood – and hated nature even more – bigger mood. His sister had never been able to convince him before, he knew that because Steve had made it a habit narrating his escapades with Aja after every single date, and it had always started with “We left the buttsnack home and…”. The first time Seamus offered a ride home to the two of them, and magically the little crush he had only confided to Steve and Logan – and Mary but Mary was gossip queen so that didn’t count – had decided to tag along with them. Suspicious, very suspicious.

So, there they were. They had been stuck into his car for an hour at least now, waiting to check if Aja and Steve planned on staying here for longer or eventually head back. Seamus really hoped for the second. He had no idea how the tension had raised up to this point, nothing was working! Krel was barely acknowledging him, and he was starting to wonder why he decided to join in in the first place. Maybe he lost a bet with Steve or something, that would have explained it.

… it did explain it. He was here against his will, with him, having the worst time of his life. Seamus pressed his lips together, the silence weighting onto his stomach. Maybe he could ask something else? What more anecdotes did he have left? The full score at Alex, getting kicked out of Sam’s…

… why was he feeling worse?

His phone vibrated right there. He had no doubt who was disturbing and judging by the sudden vibration from Krel’s phone the other half of the couple was sending similar messages.

THEPalchuk: Hey man

THEPalchuk: Me and Aja are staying around more

THEPalchuk: Pick us up in one hour?

THEPalchuk: Thanks you’re the best!

Great, like he wasn’t currently questioning his flirting skills as much as his entire persona. What was left in his repertoire? Nothing was helping so far, maybe he needed another approach. What choice did he have though? His stories were usually somehow effective, being like Steve didn’t seem better, Mary just so happened to have guys always in line for her for whatever reason, what else could he…

“Johnson?” He held back another jump, because Krel was finally looking at him and it was progress and- “Would it be too much bother if I asked you to bring me back home?”

Oh. Oh.

In his head played the game over soundtrack from GoGo Sushi. Dang it. He wished he had more time to prepare for this day, but right now it felt like it was inevitable. He definitely did something, said something weird. Was there even a possibility in the first place? With someone like him? He had met Krel Tarron in between classes on a completely random day: the guy had completely destroyed Mrs. Janeth’s theory about triangles without breaking a sweat, had broken into the science lab apparently making a mess of the only functioning computer, and had gotten sent to the principal at the end of the day as a result, without getting into troubles afterwards. This guy had managed to be an absolute nonconformist and a shameless rebel… using math.

Yeah, he was on another level, there was no point. He was so going to scream at Steve on organizing this, it was meant to go bad. Worst of all, it didn’t feel like he could get over it anytime soon. Maybe because it was something that didn’t even start.

He started the car, holding back a sigh.

“No problem, right away.” Krel gave him a mild grateful smile, and Seamus felt the urge to cry.

The trip back was somehow even more awkward than the hour spent waiting. Not necessarily for the deadly silence still permeating the car, mostly for the amount of thoughts that were running wildly into his head. What now? He didn’t even know if the Cantaloupian had noticed his attempts at flirting, did he reject him or was he simply so bored he couldn’t take it anymore? Did it matter? The natural consequence was to stay as far away as possible and ignore his entire existence during high school, then get into the furthest college possible – Australia sounded good – and forget about finding love forever. Sure Krel was in most of his classes, and that guy was most likely going to be an Elite student with him and Claire, which meant they were going to be paired up for some stupid vanity event of the school; also he happened to be his best friend’s girlfriend’s brother, so no way it was the last he was ever going to see him, but he could deal with it.

He could… deal with it…

… he didn’t want to, though. He didn’t want to stop talking to him or stop wishing to talk to him. That guy was in sync with his friends, he was so smart it was unbelievable, he was fun to be around and even right now that the embarrassment was at its peak, Seamus couldn’t help noticing how pretty he was, somehow even in the act of ignoring his existence. In light of all of this, was this really the only way to go? It always was with the other guys…

There was a stop ahead. He respected it, lightly biting his lip. No, with all the others he never made contact after failure because he never cared for it, because they weren’t good people, and because he didn’t want to admit how much he had made up for the sake of one terrible date. He could reach a compromise, right? To be able to talk with him. Nothing in between, only the truth.

His very dorky, uncool truth.

He continued to drive, pondering over everything, only to notice a parking spot next to the crosswalk. He went, noticing the other’s weird look on him. He hurried to speak before he could.

“I’ve never been at the tryouts.” Krel fully turned to him, eyes widened.

“… what?” Seamus winced, rubbing his neck.

“The basketball thing? I never did it. I wanted to, I’m really not bad at it… but I didn’t finish homework for that day and my dad didn’t let me.” Ah, there it came, the absolute shame – gently provided by Mr. Johnson, trademark. “The grades stuff, that’s kinda the excuse I always use whenever someone ask me why I’m not in the team. It’s not exactly a lie, but it’s better than saying I have no freedom at all.” The Cantaloupian looked baffled. The blonde took it as a chance to keep going. “As for the principal call, you wanna actually know the secret? I was never in trouble in the first place, Mrs. Janeth wanted to personally congratulate for making it into the International Mathematical Olympiad. I didn’t want people to think I was lame.” Gosh it burned. It felt kinda nice but it was also awful. He sighed at the end, pointing at his temple. “And about this? The fight? As if, I tripped on my way to the planetarium… because I love space… and there people don’t make fun of me for it.” Oh. He didn’t mean that last one, he didn’t want it to hurt. It still did. Not even Steve or Logan knew why he had been keeping his passion lowkey only for close friends.

It was good… it was good, right? It was as genuine as he could get, because despite everything he still wanted to be able to look at him in the eyes without second guessing himself. He was a lame-o who could barely do anything without his dad’s approval, he was an absolute nerd who was good at math only because he had to, and he was a dork with an absolute passion for space that got him so much mockery in the past, before he started to mock back.

A leaf flew over the windshield of the car. He could feel his sweat turning into ice. Was it too late after all? He lost his chance with Krel even at being a friend? He could feel his eyes on him.

It was silence. Then, a long sigh of relief came from him.

“Oh thank Seklos, I was convinced you were being serious before.”

… huh?

“Huh?” He looked at him. Krel was smiling. He was… smiling? “Before?”

“You were turning into an even bigger oaf than Steve is, which is quite the accomplishment let me tell you.” He looked down, finally putting away his phone. Despite wishing for it the entire time, Seamus felt a wave of anxiety rushing over. “I knew for a fact that I was going to be in your company during the entire time, given that the Staja is a force too chaotic to be around without risking someone’s life.” Despite the tension the blonde snorted. The Cantaloupian seemed to like that. “I was even looking forward to it. I’ve always wondered about the sleeping guy from class.”

Holy. Freaking. Mole.

Seamus was agape, he was pretty sure his jaw was dislocated without repair. He wasn’t sure if this was actually happening, or the last sniff of pollen had put him into a state of hallucination – he didn’t mind trading an anaphylactic shock for this. He managed to breathe again after a while, trying to remember how to speak words.

“Wait- You- I… you were watching me too?” Ah, why the too, why did he have to admit of staring at him while trying to stay awake during class? Why was he such a-

Wow. Wow. Was that embarrassment?

Coming from the prideful Krel Tarron?

“I was… mildly checking.” Okay, this was definitely a coma-induced dream, no way he was that lucky – and could this guy stop looking this adorably shy, he needed his heart to come back to life. “You always raise your hand when Mrs. Janeth asks something, even before the question has been said. You seem to be constantly bored during the lesson, which I can completely understand. You seem to be one of the few people who can at least dream to measure up with me in regard of intellect.” Mm, maybe this was actually real, somehow that came out extremely irritating and incredibly endearing at the same time. “I was interested into knowing that person tonight… I have not seen him for now.” His eyes went down, a little bitterly.

He was going to care about that in a moment. First, his mind needed to compute. What was happening here? Were Steve and Logan into this? Were they following him with a black car from afar ready to scare the crap out of him as soon as he was going to believe that a guy this cool actually wanted to know the real him?

… jeez, he really needed to work onto his self-esteem.

Besides, it was Krel, the frankest person he had ever met. There was no way he was pretending, he was so sure it almost scared him.

Apparently, this was happening, this was a meeting of some sort. One that for now, he had been screwing up big time. He was trying so hard to be liked, trying the best that had worked before, but did it work really? He had never actually been in a relationship, every single guy had evaporated as soon as they had found something better to do than hang out with this weird space nerd. Instead, Krel was waiting. Krel was there to actually know about that part of him.

The real him.

“… are you really in a hurry to come back home?” He got a confused stare. But if he really had something close to a chance, he was fine with making it interesting. “In case not… could I arrange a meeting?” He forced a very nervous smile. “Between you and him?”

Krel looked at him in surprise.

Then he smiled. He smiled.

“Alright, one more chance. Make it count, Johnson.”

His father would have not liked how fast he was driving, even while making sure to respect all signs – he wasn’t that reckless, even if the idea of bothering his old man was tempting. It wasn’t a long trip anyway, he knew the way by heart at this point. Arcadia soon got less lived around them and started to raise up, into a road leading higher and higher while surrounded by those dang trees. His passenger was looking out of the window, clearly curious but without asking a single thing. Seamus didn’t mind it. Maybe he just wanted to appreciate the moment for now, having him intrigued by the situation, before something went wrong again.

No. No. No more screwing everything, not this time. He could make this work.

The planetarium was there almost too soon, as he had only started to notice the eyes of the Cantaloupian occasionally drifting from the glass to him, equally intense. He placed the car into a completely empty parking lot, got out and breathed in. At least here there was way less vegetation, he could almost take a full breath without coughing. He quickly went over Krel’s side, opening the door for him and offering his hand.

He got a weird look in return, a little smile and a tan hand into his. Seamus really didn’t want this to be the first and last time.

“Have you ever been at Arcadia’s planetarium?”

“I am familiar, not a frequent visitor though. I was here for the Science Fair, and once in the first days since I land- got here.” He stumbled a little and focused on looking around, frowning. “I did not find anything particularly interesting though. Only incorrect.”

“Oh, if you’re up for a conversation about mistakes made into the planetary system I’m all ears, but let’s get inside first. I’m bringing you somewhere special.” He walked towards the building, aiming for the back of it, hoping that the occasional cat had decided to do its stuff somewhere else, at least for tonight. Only halfway there it hit him that their hands were still united. He was actually holding his hand. The realization made his body tremble. “Huh, I…” He looked over his shoulder, trying to think how to ask someone if it was okay to hold hands while already doing it in order not to make him go away – why was his brain always this convoluted?

Krel blinked at him, with those pretty brown eyes of his. There was such a control into those irises, smarts and brilliance but not only. It was the kind of look that had seen much, stuff he probably couldn’t even understand. There was simply something that made him want to know more about him.

He clenched his hold. Seamus could feel his heart doing backflips.

“What is it?” This mischievous genius smirked. Absolutely aware. What a day was this day.

“… nothing.” Seamus grinned back, starting to accept that from now on everything was going to be absolutely mind-blowing. “I have been here so many times, and if I know something is that the employees here are… really bad at their job.” He eyed the backdoor. Then the doormat. A freaking doormat, what a cliché. “I swear, one could break in and they would barely notice.” Reluctantly he let go of his hand, slipped it underneath the obvious hiding spot and got the key.

“That is really careless. Although having access to this place could be useful, I did see some interesting components for potential devices last time I was here.”

“Dang, you’re a dangerous one… wait, you’re an inventor?”

“In a way, I’m mostly an engineer.” Total. Heart eyes. “How did you discover this entrance?”

“I used to be a kid who barely had friends, hate with passion staying at my own house and I wished for nothing more than to climb onto a rocket and leave the planet to explore the entire galaxy.” Huh. It used to sound way less edgy when he was younger. “At some point dad discovered that he could leave me here with an adult and he was able to go by his day doing business or whatever without a problem, so I spent a lot of time around here. It gets easier to discover tricks when you’re a kid.” He unlocked the door, bowing at the other. “After you, Mr. Rebel.”

Krel rolled his eyes with a smirk, getting in.

It was as silent and dark as he expected it to be. Also empty, as he expected the nightguard had ditched his job once again – he mentally thanked his careless of tonight. He had been there enough to memorize even the vague noise of the neon, it was echoing into his ears even now that the lights were off. He took out his phone, brightening the way for them to walk. He barely had to think about it, his feet already knew where to step and what poster to pass by, even in complete darkness. His attention was mostly on the guy following him anyway… he was bringing a guy to his special place. He was bringing a guy into his stupidly nerdy corner in this stupidly nerdy place he had adored ever since he was a kid. He was actually doing it.

Wow, Mary would have screamed murder at him for being this uncool. He decided he could deal with her fits later. For now, the projector room.

It pleased him the look of Krel’s face, as it was genuinely the first time he had been there. There were so many seats, the projector was in the middle of the room. It was dark, but the glass dome above them gave a bit of a view over the night sky. Nothing else, absolute simplicity. It was so peaceful here. It made him sigh of relief every single time.

Right now though, it was enough silence to hear his own heartbeats, as the Cantaloupian’s curious eyes went all over the room. He really wanted to be up to his expectations.

“Fascinating.” He looked up to the sky view. “What is the purpose of this place?”

“You’ll see.” Seamus took off that awful jacket of his with a certain satisfaction and put it onto one of the seats. He patted the one next to him. “Give me a moment.” Krel obeyed, taking place, while the blonde went over the controls. He had seen it plenty of times, he had done it as well. Only a few controllers, along with the audio guide. “Get ready for the show!” He hurried to take place where he had left the piece of clothes, deliberately sitting on it – he never wanted to see it again, at least until winder, screw being cool or whatever.

A very familiar excitement took over when the first stars appeared, manifesting the galaxy as a whole. So many points made of light, further than his mind could ever go, yet so reachable in a way his mind couldn’t explain. Soon enough planets came into view as well, Saturn first in all of its beauty, showcasing the rings into the black space.

He took a breath, feeling the familiarity of the place… and something more.

“Space, the ever-present dome of endless wonder,” The audio guide roared through the video, toning it down a little had been a good idea. He remembered when he was a kid, and he had been so conflicted between putting his hands over his ears or risking becoming deaf only for the sake of knowing more about the universe. “And just when you think the universe can’t get any more mysterious…” He knew that explanation by heart at this point.

So he noticed the change nearby. He thought he was imagining it, because it wasn’t the first time the thought had hit him. Then his fingers met others, his heart screamed, and he decided that no dream of his had ever been this vivid.

“I like this place.” Krel was talking softly, close to his ear. It sent a shiver onto his back.

“H-happy to hear.” He let their fingers intertwine, trying to focus less on how everything could end up so horribly and more on how enjoyable everything was. He could live this moment, without thinking of the bad possible outcome. “… you know, the planets got colored like that to appeal the kids I think. The first time I watched it I’ve already studied my kiddie book about planets, and I was so disappointed that they weren’t being accurate.” He snickered, letting his eyes wander on how the celestial corpses were moving in circles. “Thinking that there is so much out there…”

“Yeah… so much.” Krel breathed out. “Galaxies so distant, Earth might never get the chance to reach. Everything is so far from everything here.” His tone had gone down a little, pensive.

The audio guide continued, Seamus was unconsciously moving his mouth along the description that was already stuck into his head. Krel had gone completely silent, even though his warm was still into his. The blonde had no idea what was going on in that impressive brain of his, but whatever it was, he didn’t want to stay away from it.

With his free hand he pointed at the projection, the fragment with all the stars.

“You know, I used to think that space was a little scary. It’s so vast and we humans will probably never live long enough to see it all.” He smiled, remember the stories about the stars his mom used to read for him. “Then I discovered how far stars are, and that from every single planet of the Milky Way the constellations all look the same. It’s like they reach all those places.”

“… what about beyond that?” Krel swallowed, clenching his hold. “What if there are even further planets out there?”

“Well, stars are many lightyears away from here, and one lightyear is 5.8 trillion miles. That’s one heck of a trip.” He got a look that said ‘I knew that’ and laughed, making him smile a little too. “All I’m saying is that, at least for a part of the galaxy, the sky will look the same. And even if we discovered even further away planets where they don’t know about Andromeda or Sagittarius, there will be other stars over there, reaching out for other places, but stars nonetheless.” The projection changed again, coming back to Earth. “As far as one can go, there are still things that feels like home, you know? That’s why, even though it’s terrifying, I kind of can’t wait to know if there’s more out there.” His throat felt lighter. Oh. He had rarely ever been able to say, was this ok-

Oh. Oh. He was wrong, Krel had never smiled before, not this evening, not even a single time. Because this was his real smile, a radiant curve with those lucid eyes, reflecting the light of the projector. He turned to him, and Seamus almost gasped out of the view alone.

Beautiful. Krel Tarron was really beautiful.

“That is a comforting thought.” His voice wasn’t far anymore, it got back some vigor. “So, this is the real you?” Seamus swallowed. Right, it all came down to that.

“I guess so… yeah, pretty much.”

“Good. I like this Seamus much better than the other one.” Okay, calm down. He was simply making a comparison with how jerky he was before. No need to get all riled up by his wording. “Although I am not completely convinced about the situation, perhaps this matter needs to be deepen on another occasion. Perhaps in another place, at another time… with the two of us.” Okay, no calming down, forget all the rationality he was so going to freak out.

It took him a moment. Then, mustering all of his courage at facing the last doubt that he was going to get slapped or laughed at as soon as he turned, he looked at the guy sitting next to him. No laugh. No slap. Not at all.

“Does… does that mean… another date? A-a proper one?” The Cantaloupian’s shrug said maybe, his extremely wide grin said yes. Seamus was too happy to care about the mocking intention. “Huh, uh, uhm.” Answer stupid, answer! “Yes. That is… sure, why not, it sounds good.” He so needed to work on his communication skills, especially since he was about to meet him so much more from now on – holy everything he just got a date out of Krel Tarron didn’t he. “I can pick you up one of these days, we can go to Sam’s or something…” Wow, a diner, such a romantic place for a date. “O-or something else, maybe I should ask Steve about idea- Oh, dang it!”

Krel’s expression fell. Oh, apparently he wasn’t the only one questioning himself.

“What is it? Is it no good?”

“Oh, no way, it’s nothing! I’m happy!” He straightened his back, glad that they were still holding hands despite everything. “It’s just that… urgh, I hate when Steve’s right about something, he gets super unbearable. Now the fact that he arranged the whole thing and it actually worked will be his biggest accomplishment, not looking forward to that.” He could already see the t-shirts ‘I got this buttsnack a date’ with his face on it. With that being said, it seemed almost an overly fair trade, weeks of mockery coming from that guy for a single date with the Cantaloupian.

Who was staring at him with an arched brow, slowly straightening his back with a wince – yeah, his own back wasn’t doing much better, these chairs were pretty uncomfortable.

“What do you mean he arranged this?” How subtle Steve was?… could Steve actually be subtle?

“Well, you know, it’s pretty evident.” Seamus scratched his cheek with his free hand, laughing a little. “He was the one knowing about my… uhm, interest in you.” Nice understatement. Those brown eyes widened. “The day I offer him a lift with my car you come along, there’s not much else to deduce here.” It was weird that someone this observant hadn’t noticed the coincidence.

Krel was smiling, again, and his cheeks were lightly red. It almost stopped his heart. Then he frowned, like another thought had taken over his more pleasant one.

“You think Steve pushed me to come today?” Seamus blinked. That was a weirdly worded question. He simply nodded. “What makes you think that?”

“Please, that guy would do anything to make me in the situation to make an absolute fool of myself! Granted, I didn’t need much of his help at this turn.” Krel was still blinking, looking baffled. “Besides, who else would’ve cared for this? I don’t think your sister knew about me, Logan is out of the picture tonight, and I’d be terrified if Mary actually managed to be involved without… what? What is it?” The guy was staring so intently, it was hard keeping track with that kind of look.

The hold clenched again. Krel was focused on nothing but him.

“I am simply a little taken back. I thought the fact that I came along only when you were there would have given away my intentions.” His inten- Oh. Oh. That syllabus must had shown onto his face because Krel laughed. He laughed and it was beautiful, even though his brain was having a grand hard time at functioning. “Steve simply said you were there to give him a ride, it was a good occasion. A plan of mine at least.” Still not functioning. “Speaking of, perhaps we should let them know we might be a little late at picking them up. I am in no hurry to leave anymore.” Still hardly understanding. “You are perhaps a little less brilliant than you think you are, Seamus Johnson.” Still non computing. Krel stared at him, right into his eyes. “But you are a nicer company than you might believe to be.” He got closer. Not functioning, not computing not-

Cheek, kiss.

Kiss cheek, cheeky kiss, kiss on the cheek with kiss-

Krel was kissing his cheek.

It was warm and soft, and it made his brain absolute short-circuit. Their noses almost brushed when he pulled away, and Krel’s hair moved a little, lightly smelling like metal. He was an inventor, he said. What else? What else was this person was? He really wanted to know, he really wanted to ask. All he could muster right now though was some sort of whimper, that made the Cantaloupian giggle some more, before getting back on his seat while still holding his hand.

The audio guide’s voice was still as powerful as ever, and at the meteor section something into his head woke up. Seamus realized that, once again, he wasn’t hallucinating. He couldn’t reach his warm cheek with his free hand without looking incredibly awkward but it was fine. It was okay, absolutely okay, and he couldn’t stop grinning because of it.

Turned out, it wasn’t Steve’s fault. It was Krel’s fault.

He was more than happy to go along with it.

[musicfren]

the presents they measured (the presence she treasured) part 2

HOLY CAKES y’all! 5000 words and infinity pages later, me and @nottesilhouette have finally finished part two of our blind date fluff fiesta (part 1 here) Notte wrote a really big portion of this and deserve so, so much credit for it. She’s an amazing writer <3 Meanwhile I contributed all the many italics :P Happy @felinettenovember y’all!

“Adrien.”

“Felix.”

“I should have known.”

The class presses closer like onlookers at a street brawl, hemming them in. Felix glares at his infuriatingly pretty adversary from across the flimsy classroom table. So here stood the pretender, the imitation, the counterfeit who thinks he can outdo Felix in this game of grandiose. The air between them is taught as a heartstring, dangerously close to snapping, causing irreparable damage to the function of one of their hearts, and it’s a toss-up whose is going to make it out intact.  

Felix steels himself. He is not going to lose, and he is not going to break. 

At last, Adrien breaks the sharp silence. “So, why are we here?”

And then, from the back of the crowd, a malicious, irritated voice rings out, punctuated with the crisp pop of a bubblegum snapping.

“This has to stop now,” says Chloe, nose red from allergies, immaculate hair ruined by the rushing crowds. She plucks confetti from her hair, crinkling her nose, and dusts ash from her jacket disdainfully, still reeking of cherry blossom candle wax. 

“Whatever it is that you’re going through, everyone else is sick of it and we are putting an end to it NOW!” 

Felix and Adrien push back in perfect unison:

“But no one’s won yet!” 

“How will we know who won?”

Half the class gave them a deadpan look. The other half, less subtle, just outright glared. Chloe checks her nails, and then flinches when she notices one is chipped. She hadn’t even noticed it chipping in the midst of all the chaos, which goes to show exactly how out of hand this has gotten. It needs to get back in hand, and that hand needs a manicure! 

“Okay, listen up, you walnuts.” (This was clearly becoming a popular insult around the school) “Cuh-learly this nonsense isn’t going to stop until one of you meatheads gets handed a trophy and told by your daddy you did a good job. So, as surrogate daddy for the day, I am officially announcing the Grande Bataille pour Marinette. SABRINA!”

Sabrina scampers over with a flustered “yes, Chloe!” and a cascade of papers from the stack she carries under one arm. After several seconds of fumbling, she proudly produces an enormous poster, nearly as tall as she is.

“The rules are simple.” (They aren’t.) “You’ll each get a series of clues about something to do with Marinette. What chocolate she likes or something, I don’t care. Anyway, you’ll go where the clue tells you and do your little dance or whatever, and whichever of you gets to the end first will be set up on a blind date with Marinette. Then you can drown her in these stupid roses for all I care. Not my problem”

Felix looks from Chloe to Adrien. Adrien looks from Felix to Chloe. Chloe glares them both down in equal measure. They quail and nod, despite having absolutely no clue what this game is or how it works, because it seems like a good time to get out of that room. But whatever it is, the game is about to begin.

Chloe greets them with an irritated huff in the middle of central park. It’s a calm, sunny day, far too cheerful for the occasion. Felix arrives late, having almost gotten lost on the way twice and sprinting the rest of the way. Adrien chuckles as Felix skids to a halt, panting, already not off to a good start. Felix glares back, but if he has a response it’s lost among his sputtering gasps.

Chloe taps one irritated foot against the grass. Clearly she doesn’t want to be here any longer than she needs to be.

“Late already, I see. Whatever, lets just get on with this.”

Felix, still barely able to breath, raises a hand to tell her wait, but Chloe seems to have no interest in having this take any longer than necessary. With the air of someone picking up a particularly disgusting piece of laundry, she pulls out a sheet of paper with two fingers.

“What is… Marinette's… favorite color?”

Felix’s eyes go wide. They’re going to start with something this simple? And so quickly? This is less a test of knowledge than of reflexes! Oh no... he has to answer now, right now, before Adrien answers first. Okay, um... It was obviously green of course, everyone knew that. It was green right? Right...? 

The gifts she got were green. And she hangs out with Chat Noir, right? Marinette had said so often that he was her favorite hero, and she definitely likes black but she says it’s not a real color, and Felix was starting to get dizzy with the lack of oxygen to his brain, and the world was spinning, and he needed to answer right now, and--

No time to think. With all the scarce air left in his lungs, Felix croaks out “Green!”

Adrien looks at him with baffled incredulity. “...Dude, it’s literally pink, have you ever seen her?”

Oh, bother.

Chloe claps with such immense lack of enthusiasm, Felix thinks she might fall asleep right there.

“Bravo, bravo. Adrien, you get a five minute head start. Felix, not gonna lie, that was pretty stupid, I’ll tell you when you can go. Next clue is just in front of Marinette’s bakery. You do know the way there I hope?”

Adrien gives a mock salute and sprints off, leaving Felix to forlornly watch his hopes vanish into the distance. 

Despite having more time, more breath, and a considerably higher morale on his side, Adrien manages to arrive at the bakery exactly as Felix does. Silently, he curses his sense of direction. Of course he knew where Marinette’s bakery was. Of course he did. He just… had a moment of confusion during which he needed to look up the bakery by name because he didn’t have the address saved anywhere on his phone. That was all.

Felix is far too out of breath to focus on anything other than remaining alive. He trots weakly up to Sabrina who stands outside the bakery doors, a large official-looking binder tucked under one arm.

“Oh, you’re here. Good.” She flips through her binder intently without looking at them. They wait in tense silence as she searches for the correct page. The wind tosses Felix’s hair into a disheveled mess. 

Adrien gives him a wry nudge “Maybe you should take the time to study. You seem to be a little shaky on your basics.”

“Maybe you should learn how to see, Adrien, or did you miss the fact that the bakery is literally in full view of the park?” 

“...touché”

“Ah!” At long last, Sabrina has found the appropriate page. With a small, self-satisfied smile, she thumbs the edge of the page and looks up at them.

“Which class does Marinette enjoy the most?”

Felix, by this point, has lost all sense of coherency. What does enjoy even mean, anymore? Well, Felix certainly isn’t enjoying this game he was losing. Losing, losing… What is Marinette good at? That’s got to be something she enjoys, right? 

...what isn’t Marinette good at? Felix drifts in his thoughts, flashing through memories of her bright enthusiasm, the flush riding high on her cheeks in every class, the way she chews her pencil when she thinks and the scribbles on her arms, every word a work of art in her hands. The only time he’s ever seen her sink into her seat, hide her face in her hands, turn pallid and pale is… 

Gosh, she’s just good at everything isn’t she? 

“Everything except physics!” Felix blurts out before his exhausted mind can catch up to him. Sabrina looks at him in bewilderment, finger hovering above her binder. Is he serious? she thinks, mouth starting to hang open in question. Then, five whole seconds after Felix’s brain has crashed over the barricade and careened into the valley below, Adrien’s brain slowly sputters to life.

“Um… I have art with her third period! So… probably that one!”

Sabrina’s gaping mouth hangs a little lower. “What?!” She manages through a wheeze.

Felix jolts. “Wait!!! I thought the question is which is she best at, can I answer again?!”

“...unfortunately, despite having completely awful reasoning, Adrien has gotten the question right. He will progress to Marinette’s favorite fabric store five minutes before you will.” 

Felix sulks. Adrien smirks, and looks up the directions on his phone first this time. 

It’s awkward standing there with Sabrina waiting for the seconds to tick by. She’s typing away rapidly on her phone, not even acknowledging Felix’s presence, glancing around idly at anything but him. Felix is still trying to work out Adrien’s reasoning. Is that her favorite class because he’s in it? Did they mean which experience does she most enjoy, or which subject? Does Adrien know something Felix doesn’t, about who Marinette likes spending time with, or is he just too sheltered to consider how Marinette exists outside of when she’s with Adrien?

Four minutes and thirteen seconds into his wait, she glances up and then her eyes blow wide. Her typing speeds up more than Felix thought was humanly possible, and her mouth purses into a thin line, her skin pale and clammy despite the unusually warm day. There is an absolute cacophony of text notifications that makes his head spin. At last, she looks up at Felix.

“Okay, go.”

“...what?”

“Go!” She waves a frantically dismissive hand as if that explains things any further.

“Um… okay?” Says Felix, glancing at the watch that still visibly has time left on it. He’s not about to waste one of his precious seconds though, and bolts off towards where he hopes the fabric store is. Time is wasting.

Besides. Sabrina looked about ready to murder him if it got him out of there. 

Sabrina watches him go, glancing anxiously from her phone to the bakery window, and calls the class. There’s been a situation.

Marinette is thinking of going for a walk (it is a beautifully calm, sunny day after all) when she spots Sabrina outside the bakery window. Chloe’s friend-turned-servant-turned-friend-again has always been awkward around her, ever since the day Marinette had (temporarily) convinced her to stand up for herself. Still, Marinette thinks it might be nice to have someone to spend the day with, and waves to Sabrina before hurrying out the door. 

Sabrina meets her at the door with a “Hi, Marinette!” so aggressive they both nearly fall over backwards. 

“H… hey, Sabrina!” She says with an awkward smile. “Um… what brings you around here?”

She’s trying to look over Sabrina’s shoulder, maybe see if anyone came with her, but Sabrina almost instantly slides to block her view.

“Just! Going for a walk! Do you want to… walk… together?”

“I was going to, but you seem to be blocking the door?”

“Oh… yeah…” Sabrina looks over her shoulder and does not move. 

“Um…”

About ten seconds of awkward silence later, Sabrina’s wall across the doorframe abruptly vanishes, as she practically yanks Marinette outside. “Come! Walk! Let's do that, where do you want to go?”

Baffled, Marinette takes a minute just to blink in the new light. “I… was planning on going to the park.” She figures that, with the rare beautiful, warm, clear day in December, it would be a good chance to people-watch and sketch ideas in her notebook for new outfits.  

“NO!” It’s the most vehement Marinette has ever seen Sabrina and Marinette recoils from the suggestion immediately, not wanting anything that makes her friend uncomfortable. Even if the word friend applies loosely here.

“...or we could just… visit downtown for a bit?” 

If Sabrina had it her way, the two of them would go straight up to Marinette’s room and stay there straight up until the date rolled around. Since she doesn’t get to have that, this seems like an acceptable compromise. Downtown is plenty big enough. Right? 

Ten minutes later, and it’s too late to stop Marinette from going to her favorite store. To buy fabric. 

Sabrina whimpers quietly and sends a few more texts. 

By the time Felix gets to the store, Adrien has already answered and slipped out the door. Felix catches him smirking a few steps away from the storefront, but something about it looks off, a little strange. He looks haunted, stricken behind his smugness. 

Felix bursts into the store and spots Juleka, and immediately blurts out: “Did Adrien get it right?!” 

She shakes her head and ducks behind her bangs, and mumbles, “He said she likes to look pretty. And make other people pretty.” 

So Adrien has incurred his first five minute penalty. 

...and he’s still ahead!!! Felix growls, and decides on a new strategy. It must be more efficient to focus on getting the answer right than getting it fast at this point, because another five minute delay is irreparable, but a two or three minute delay might still be recoverable. He waits impatiently for the question, but Juleka is engrossed in her texts. 

As soon as he opens his mouth to demand fair play, Juleka grabs his arm and yanks him forcibly behind a mannequin. “Why did Marinette start designing for fashion?” she hisses in his ear, pulling him abruptly away and into a new aisle. Felix’s heart leaps to his throat. He can feel a jumble of incoherent words clamoring to burst out. He swallows them, and they taste like bile. 

No. He needs a right answer, right now. 

It’s hard to think, though, with the way Juleka keeps shoving him around, even going so far as to kick him behind his knees, sending him crashing to the floor in a heap. She makes up for it by helping him back up later, but does it count if she’s the one that put him there, and then held him there for long minutes by kicking at him again when he pushed himself upright?! 

Finally, he manages to gasp out between one move and another, “Because… clothes are a representation of who you are, and there are too many people with no choices except the same hyper-idealized body types and colors, and Marinette wants to make them feel at home in their own skin.” He says it all in one rushed, nerve-wracking breath, and forgets to breathe altogether when Juleka nods. It’s his first correct answer. He did it. He did it.

And yet Juleka still doesn’t let him go, her vice-like grip on his wrist not letting up at all. Precious seconds are getting lost, and she wont. Let. Go. 

Finally, finally Juleka seems to get the divine signal she had been waiting for, because she hisses the next location in his ear and shoves him through the door. And then, immediately after he steps outside, the worst happens. 

Marinette figures, being downtown already, she’ll take the opportunity to pick up the order of fabric she’d placed, since the confirmation email came in this morning. It’ll save her a trip tomorrow, at least. 

Sabrina seems to despise this shop with a vengeance, whining and pulling on Marinette’s sleeve to go anywhere else, but it’s Marinette’s favorite. All the complaints only make Marinette more determined to show Sabrina why this one is so good. 

Stepping in, Marinette makes her way cheerfully to the counter, where she strikes up a conversation with the now-familiar cashier. The two of them strike up a grand campaign to show Sabrina around the store, making the redhead cringe and quiver with every new section of the store. Her eyes seem hunted, constantly flicking back and forth looking for predators, seeming to track something Marinette never quite manages to catch. 

At one point, Marinette swears she sees Sabrina mouthing the name Juleka, and the word run on multiple occasions. But that would be super weird, so she assumes she’s just imagined it. 

Finally, Marinette steps up to the counter to package up the fabrics she’d ordered, plus a few odds and ends she noticed as they had walked around that she liked. There is, behind her, a mad patter of steps and then the chime of the door opening, but by the time Marinette turns to look, the door is swinging empty back and forth. 

And then the akuma alarms go off. 

Luckily, it’s Mister Pigeon, because apparently the lure of a sunny day was too much for him to resist feeding his pigeons. 

Unluckily, this is going to set Felix back ages in the competition. 

Still, he does enjoy  getting to talk comfortably with Ladybug, since the fight is so repetitive. They’ve both done this a thousand times, and the motions of defeating him feel like slipping into well-worn pyjamas. 

“So what’s been bugging you, ma coccinelle?” Her shoulders are tense, movements awkward. He knows her well enough to know it isn’t the akuma that’s causing this stress. 

She grimaces. “...this fight is nothing compared to the one in my civilian life.” She shoots him an exhausted grin, and his heart aches at the sight of it. He tries for reassuring and winces as his words fall flat. 

“Oh, dear. What’s going on? Certainly nothing a hero like you can’t handle,” he winks, and then flinches away from a barrage of pigeon excrement and his own awkwardness. 

“...you ever think about how nice it would feel to have two people love you so much they’d fight over you?” 

This, he’s familiar with. Perhaps not the same way, but he’s loved something like that. Loves someone like that. “I’d imagine you’d enjoy them trying to outdo each other for you, putting so much effort into pleasing you, yes?”

Ladybug slips into a corner and calls for her Lucky Charm, then turns to answer him. “You’d think, but this is neither lucky NOR charming. I… I feel like a prize. I don’t even know if these people know me at all, or anything about what matters to me. I thought I’d like having secret admirers, but it feels like more of a mask than ours.” She looks at him fondly through a slew of pigeon feathers. “At least I know who you are, Chaton, even if I don’t know what your name is.” 

He has nothing to say to that, so turns to tackle the villain with particular aggression, slapping sharp beaks and sharp talons away from her so she can focus, and so she can keep talking. 

“I don’t know. I just want it to end. I want to matter to somebody, I want to be their priority, y’know? I don’t want big gifts that seem more focused on outdoing the last and an audience for my every reaction-- honestly, they’re worse than the press!!” He catches her shooing away a stray reporter, and grins. She grins back. “It’s like I’m the prize at a gladiator fight, and I’m not sure if I’m the woman he marries or the meat the lion gets, and I’m not sure which is better.” 

That last line, paired with her sweet, soft grin is what breaks him. Quietly, he answers. “I’m… not sure there is a better.”

She tosses him the akumatized object and he catches it with claws covered with cataclysm. It crumbles in his grip, and he grins weakly as her yo-yo shoots out to catch the corrupted butterfly.

“Yeah, exactly!! I’m glad you know that, even if they don’t. My… my classmates said they’d take care of it for me, so hopefully it’ll be over soon. I’ll be glad when I can stop performing my adoration for these presents that I don’t even really like anymore.” 

“You'd rather have someone just be present, huh.” 

“...yeah.” Her earrings give off their last warning beeps, and she startles. “I’ve gotta go, Chaton, but… thank you for listening! You… don’t always say much and I know we don’t know a lot about each other, but I know that… you might not know my favorite color, or whatever, but you know the things that matter to me. The things that make me who I am, that drive me. We have the rest of our lives to learn those things.” Impulsively, she kisses her cheek and then swings away before Chat can respond, leaving him gaping useless at the skyline for a solid minute. 

When he comes back to himself, he chuckles quietly, and then decides he has enough time on his ring (and enough selfishness in him) to jump through the city as Chat Noir, which brings him to the Farmer’s Market much more quickly than Felix ever would’ve made it on foot.

Adrien, between navigating downtown on his own for the first time and the akuma attack, arrives at quite the same time as Felix, and glowers miserably at his rival for having caught up. 

Maybe Ladybug’s luck was rubbing off on Felix after all. 

They meet Luka behind a stall of hand pressed apple juice and apple tarts and some very distracted candied apples that Felix eyes, tempted, before focusing on their clue.

…Luka looks at them solemnly for a long moment, and then plays a deep, rich chord. He pauses for a second to let it ring out before playing another, deeper, even richer chord. 

No one dares interrupt. Nodding, satisfied, Luka begins playing a melody. It’s staccato, plucky, but gradually shifts into a neatly balanced harmony, before ending on a final, unimaginably rich chord that rings out into the silence. Then he simply looks at them, calmly, expectantly. Clearly neither Adrien nor Felix have worked out what the heck this is supposed to be. 

At long last, Adrien ventures to ask, “Um...what’s the clue?” “The answer. Is within. The question.” Says Luka without pause.

Felix, with more emphasis, asks again. Luka, now very grave, responds: “Be wise. And be true. To your love.” 

Felix looks at Adrien. Adrien looks at Felix. Luka looks contemplatively at an apple, and then wanders a little ways off following a bird. Adrien and Felix chase after him, and ask as one with great urgency: “What’s the clue?”

Luka lets out the infinitely mournful sigh of misunderstood artists everywhere. “...fine. The question, since you two clearly didn’t understand the first three times, is: what does Marinette want most from her future?”

There is a long pause as both boys try to work out how they were supposed to understand this from any of the previously given information. Then, collecting themselves, they both answer in a rush, tripping over each other to be the first to answer. 

“A fashion designer, with three kids and a gerbil!” 

Felix is still talking as Adrien finishes, and feels three sizes too big in his skin as he keeps talking, awkward and gangly and ridiculous. “She wants… the ability to be independent and self-sustaining without losing her passion for loving and caring for others.” Then, absentmindedly, he adds, “also, pretty fashion.” 

Another painfully long pause. Then Luka abruptly plays a sharp, twangy chord, so loud and sudden that the two boys jump.

“Good job, Felix!” He says, nodding approvingly “Sometimes the song isn’t just about the melody. You get a five minute head start.”

The blue-haired boy leans against a nearby stall and, satisfied, plays a contemplative chord. Then another. Then another. Felix watches him, confused, trying to determine the hidden message until Luka interjects “Four minutes”, and sends Felix scampering off.

He almost gets to the edge of the market before a thought occurs to him and he backtracks for a moment. Marinette had mentioned once the way she had finally, for the first time, eaten a candied apple she liked and fell in love with it, and the ones he’d noticed at the stall are the same gourmet brand she had loved. She had rambled to him for twenty minutes about how cutting the apple into slices had improved the balance of flavors so well, and why had she never thought of that before, and how the caramel was creamy and soft and sweet without being overpowering or brittle or sticky, and how creative the flavor combinations were. 

Felix grabs s’mores, which was her favorite, and toffee-dark chocolate, which she had wanted to try but didn’t get to. 

Getting this for her is worth losing his lead. 

Then he nearly jumps out of his own skin and bones when he notices Marinette just a few steps away, peering at another stall, and panics for a second, but Sabrina (who is by now very frazzled) rushes after Marinette and reminds her that she needs to get home and changed soon, and didn’t she want to pick up some red bean paste before that? Better hurry!!! 

Marinette, for the first time all day, doesn’t protest. Felix takes the fastest route to her house, in case her red bean paste excursion goes more quickly than he expects. 

In front of her house again, they meet Nino, who is looking uncharacteristically serious. 

The question he asks knocks Felix off balance, and by the time he even begins to get his wits around him, Adrien has caught up and Nino is posing the question to him, too. 

“What is Marinette most afraid of in a relationship?” 

Adrien answers first. “She’s worried she won’t end up with me.” Nino looks at him for a long moment, and then clearly makes a decision. Adrien is asked to elaborate, and he doesn’t hesitate before adding that “Marinette wants someone who’s kind like her, and who knows the little details about her. She’s afraid to be with someone who doesn’t pay attention to her because it shows they don’t care, and she doesn’t want someone who drags her down with heavy, loaded conversations.”

Felix’s heart sinks. Is that true? Has Adrien won before Felix ever even got to attempt the question? His heart rate spikes until Nino, very carefully, says: “It’s Felix’s turn to answer. Whoever is closer wins, unless we decide you’re both tied, in which case you’re you’ll get a chance to answer again.” 

“...shouldn’t you have explained that first?!”

Nino shrinks and smiles nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh… haha… oops?” 

Felix decides it’s more important to answer. Nino will still be around to traumatize later, after all. He takes another moment, savoring the sensation to have time to think for the first time all day. Recalling the conversation with Ladybug from earlier, Felix realizes that Marinette and Ladybug are similar in a lot of ways. They’re strong, they care so much about the people they love, and maybe they’re both absolutely terrified of being seen as an idol or a pretty face, a trophy or a derivative of their history, or a doormat for their kindness and compassion. They don’t care about knowing something that they can tell someone else between casual conversations through the rest of their lives. They’re worried that they’ll get in a relationship and not be seen, and not be heard. 

He says so. 

Nino nods, and points Felix towards the park. 

He won? He won!!! He--

...he gets to go on a date with Marinette. 

Felix is slammed with the realization that he hasn’t won now. He… he knows Marinette, and he knows her well, and that’s not something he thought he would get to be able to say today. It’s more than winning or losing, all of a sudden. It’s friendship.

And, with a little luck and a lot of patience, maybe it’ll be more. 

Adrien suddenly bursts in on his revelry. “It’s not fair! That was a stupid question, how was anyone supposed to know that?”

The taller boy steps towards Felix, towering over him. Felix takes an involuntary step back.

“You didn’t deserve to win. She likes me!” Spittle is flying from Adrien's face, his precious model-coiffed blond hair hanging ragged over his face. Felix starts to back away, or point out that he had, in fact, known the answer by asking Marinette questions about herself and listening when she talked, and putting the pieces together, but a kernel of compassion grows in his stomach.

“She does like you. That’s why she’s your friend. And if she likes you more than that, I know she’ll let you know.” 

Adrien is looking at him silently, aghast as to how he could have been wrong. Then he storms off, muttering something about lawyers. Felix chooses not to gloat, because there’s nothing to gloat about. He hopes Adrien can get to know Marinette well, too. She’s worth the effort. He knows that now. 

He meets Marinette at the park, where the rest of the class has been setting up a picnic date. It’s gorgeous, with soft blankets laid out, pillows strewn across the edges of the blankets bordering a feast of their favorite foods. Candles flicker on nearby benches and fairy lights are strewn up through the trees, and it’s a miracle the weather has cooperated the entire day, honestly. 

“You would not BELIEVE what I had to get through to get here,” he starts, knowing how much Marinette loves a good story. 

“I’m… Alya just told me what shenanigans had happened today, because I wouldn’t stop asking why Sabrina was having a nervous breakdown by the end of the day. How’d you get that last question right, anyways?” She laughs, somehow bright and awkward at the same time. “I’m not even sure I know the answer!”

Felix feels a blush blooming across his skin. “Well, I thought-- y’know-- it’s just that--” Marinette interrupts him with a hand over his, and he swallows. “...you just… reminded me of someone I know.” 

“That’s a pretty special someone you’ve got there.” 

“...there’s a pretty special someone I’ve got right here, too.” 

They take a minute to eat, and snuggle into each other, and bask in the moment, the warmth of each other and the brisk sharpness of windchill and the twinkling lights of all the love (and maybe desperate frustration) their friends have poured into making this happen. 

Hours pass like that, half in comfortable silence, half in excited, rambling chatter. When the wind picks up, Marinette glances at her long-discarded coat and curls up tighter against Felix. He slips his hands into his gloves and holds her tight. 

They’re dozing off like that, half asleep in each other’s arms, when Marinette breaks the silence, eyes still closed, mumbling against his shoulder. 

“I guess it’s not much of a blind date anymore, but…” She leans in and kisses his cheek, ghosting over the still-warm presence of Ladybug’s kiss. “...I’m glad it was you here.”

[strayinvelvet]

no more hints

changbin has always been telling you his love in the most subtle ways. unfortunately, you don’t hear any of it.

pairing: changbin x reader

genre: fluff

wc: 1.7k

warnings: none :D

author’s msg: i hope you like this mess!

Pursuing you is hard work.

This is what Changbin realized after months of dropping hints of his affection towards you.

Months of subtly stealing glances and brushes of skin trying to feel your warmth even just for a second; months of walking you to your home because yours is fortunately on his way and frankly, to make every second with you last longer; and months of trying not to blurt out the fact that he likes you and scare you away.

It was a long patience of pouring his feelings through small gestures and hoping that one day, you’ll get to see his honest heart.

He honestly thought he could go on like this forever until he was hit with the fact that he is not the only man in your life that could be crushing — hard — on you.

Suddenly, the man who kept asking if he can sit beside you in history class became a threat. The man who always teases you in your theater club became an eyesore. It was these moments that made him realize just how attractive you could be and how any man could fall head over heels for you, if only they made the effort to get to know you. He, of course, did it like it credits 99% of his final grade in the subject called you, and it would make him climb to rank first in your heart. He was only thankful that you are not even one bit interested.

However, your disinterest is also what frustrates him the most because that means he doesn’t stand a chance. Despite the years of friendship, he is at the bottom level with the other men and this fueled the competitive fire in his heart. 

He wants to get to know you more, he wants to take you out on dates, he wants to hold your hands and feel  your hand curl against his palm, he wants to go on spontaneous trips with you, or just lazily lounge on the couch with your head on his lap. He wants to do a lot more things with you but without the lingering threat of men around you and he could only do that by upping his game. 

He bought you flowers, the bouquet that was worth so much to make sure he is properly expressing his love. He even requested an arrangement that does not exist in the flower shop’s menu just so he could personalize it for you. Three red ruby roses with a sprinkle of pink gypsophila wrapped in foil and mesh, just like how he thinks you’d like it. He’d always give you one after your shows. 

He also bought you chocolates and it wasn’t the typical one you’d see in grocery stores or convenience stores, it was the expensive chocolates that could be overpriced but are only a mere change for him. He doesn’t want you to feel cheap. He wants you to feel special because that’s what you are to him, so a little effort is nothing.

During the days he knows you would be sulking in the comfort of your home, he’d bring you your favorite takeouts. Lots of them. And he’d eat with you until you feel full, and stay with you until you feel better.

He made sure you feel as much of his love even though what he did is still nowhere near the overflowing emotions he has for you. Yet despite the enthusiasm he has in doing those things, was the lack of reactions he got from you. There were thank you’s and smiles and a hug every once in a while that would constrict his breathing as he felt your body against his. 

In those times he thought that maybe, this was a hopeless case. That your reaction was a big red sign that he ignored. 

He loves you, he truly does. He wants you to know and keep it in your heart, but if in exchange is your comfort towards him then he’d much rather keep it to himself and let it pass. Maybe it will pass once he gets it off his chest. So one night, while you and him were walking side to side to your apartment, he dropped the affection bomb. 

“I’m sorry for doing all those things, ” you turned to look at him in surprise, your big eyes capturing him all over again. Suddenly, there’s a lump in his throat that prevents him from confessing. But this has to be done. His love for you that only keeps growing no matter how much he tries has to end.

“I mean the flowers, the chocos and everything. I just- I don’t know how to do this, my god, but I just want you to know that I love you. Very much. And I am sorry for making you uncomfortable. I’ll stop, i swear just- just don’t be awkward, ” he tried catching his breath after the confession that honestly sounded like a rap because of how fast he talked out of nervousness. 

It was the right thing to do, he thought. Maybe it was time to give up until he felt warmth on his cheeks and a soft feeling pressed on his lips. 

You were kissing him and the world felt like it was turned upside down.

You were kissing him and it was your pathetic attempt of saying you want to keep him.

You built an ice cold, rock solid wall around your heart before you entered university simply because you wanted to focus on your degree and your passion for the stage. You know you can achieve so much and you are determined to do so, even if you have to block all possible distractions. But all of your efforts came crashing down as soon as Changbin’s warmth reached your heart in all ways possible, melting the barrier you so desperately built.

He was the comfort of your mattress after a long day of rehearsals or the first sip of coffee in a groggy morning. Just his presence alone tingles your heart, and his actions, a whole dust of pink on your cheeks. 

He confuses you most of the time. There are times where the back of his hand would brush with yours during a walk and you thought you saw him try to reach for it in the briefest moment. But there are also times where he’d be looking at you with an unreadable expression, then he’d look away with a face that you guessed was disappointment. You were always left thinking what you did.

As if those weren’t enough, he suddenly went out of his ways to give you things normal friends don’t give. Bouquets after your performances, chocolates whenever he feels like it, and takeouts that are enough to last you a day. And although it did a flip in your stomach, you can’t help but smile in guilt because it is everything that you hate: you hate flowers, and you are allergic to chocolates.

Flowers are conventional and predictable, much more a rose. That’s why you hated receiving one. You don’t think a rose holds sincerity, it is merely the first choice one would go to when in a love crisis. It was a no brainer choice but is sure to swoon the receiver. But since Changbin gave you not one but three, you guessed could always make adjustments.

Your body, however, could not make adjustments for the chocolates. Screw allergies. One bite and not a moment later, itchy rashes are to appear on your skin. Even the smell of chocolates has you gagging due to memory of your almost death (exaggeration, i know). You can’t do anything about it, but you can pretend to be fine under your jacket after a bite, just so you can tell Changbin that you appreciate it.

You don’t hate takeouts, you hate how it makes you look bloated and puffy, not really a look you want to show Changbin. You alway hide under a thick blanket on the sofa so he wouldn’t see your face situation.

You appreciate him, you really do. But it was just so confusing. And when you thought you heard him say what you’ve been wanting to hear one night, he quickly took it back. Panic got to you when you realized he was backing up and before you knew it, you were pressing yourself on him. The walls built for your sake are broken by the thing it was supposed to protect.

Just like that, both of you couldn’t believe that as of the moment, as the sunlight peeking from your curtains hit your bed, the two of you were cuddling under the blanket in the morning daze. Your fingers caressing his hair and his arms wrapped loosely around your waist. He hummed as he moved his head trying to feel you more.

“Why are you awake already?” he asked in his sleepy deep voice that sounds like pure velvet. 

“Good morning to you too, ” you replied with a lazy giggle. He moved the both of you so he was laying on top of you, his head facing sideways while nuzzling your chest.

There is this weird comforting feeling he feels when he can hear your heartbeat so vividly close. Before, he could only imagine being this intimate with you. He must admit that nothing compares with your skin actually touching his touch-starved ones.

“You’re heavy.” He lazily opened his eyes at your remark and saw the dried roses you displayed on your side table. The one that was awfully familiar.

“Why do you still have that?” 

“You gave them.”

“You hate flowers.”

“You gave them, ” your answer was certain.

He looked up at you at the same time you looked down at him and a connection sparked between your eyes, one that was hidden desperately months ago. He tightened his arms around you and kissed your chin to your lips to the tip of your nose.

The soft plants of his lips made you giggle and its wakes burn in want.

“I’d give you more.”

Because pursuing you is hard work and he’d go through it all over again because you’re worth it.

And loving him is easy and you’d break your walls all over again because he’s worth it.

And the subtle game is done, finally. No more hints of his heart, just full confession of his genuine love.

[gamerwoo]

Seventeen: Welcome to Caratland (Part 13)

(header by the amazing @cozynochu​​​)

Characters: Seventeen x reader (gender neutral)

Genre/warnings: horror/halloween au, interactive au, this part doesn’t really have anything happen so if you’re scared of death or injury or anything ur safe (but the alternate endings include death and injury so do with that what you will)

Summary: The night before Halloween, you and your 13 friends decide to go explore the infamous abandoned amusement park: Caratland, where it’s rumored that rides start on their own, empty mascot suits are seen walking around, and people don’t return the same as when they left. Can you and your friends survive the night in Caratland?

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After weighing your options, you shrugged and said, “I think I wanna check out the funhouse. It’s probably super creepy now, right?”

“That’s the Halloween spirit,” Wonwoo deadpanned, patting your back before turning to go toward the funhouse. “I think it’s this way.”

“Everybody text if you need anything!” Seungcheol called as the groups went their separate ways.

-

After a bit of searching, the five of you finally found the funhouse. It looked smaller than you remembered, but Hansol remarked that he was pretty sure it was bigger inside than it was outside.

“I think that was part of the gimmick or whatever,” he said.

Because the power was on, the lights were dimly blinking outside the funhouse. You were pretty sure they were supposed to be brighter and steady, but the bulbs were old so you didn’t think too much of how creepy it seemed. This funhouse wasn’t necessarily supposed to be scary since Caratland was aimed toward kids.

The entrance was one of those tunnels that spun around with a swirl pattern on it. It was turning slowly, and Wonwoo led the way into the funhouse, turning his head to warn everyone not to slip on the dust.

“There’s probably a fuck ton of cobwebs in here, too,” Joshua muttered, shining his light around. “My allergies are gonna be so bad by the end of this.”

“You’re the one who wanted to come to the funhouse,” you reminded him, “so stop whining.”

He just mocked you and kept going.

You were at the end of the group, but you managed to keep up. There were a bunch of weird things inside like a bunch of punching bags and slow swinging balls you had to make your way through, a room of streamers that were now falling apart from how old they were, and a bunch of other rooms that had obstacles to go through. The five of you stopped to take pictures and videos while you goofed off in the funhouse, laughing and genuinely having fun. You were glad you went with a group that didn’t have anybody who was necessarily afraid of the abandoned park.

“Can you shine your light a little off to the side?” Minghao asked as he posed for some pictures that he forced Joshua to take for him.

“Can you pose better?” Joshua shot back as he got down on one knee and bent his body down, trying to get the angle that Minghao instructed him to get.

Hansol craned his neck to see the phone screen, “It looks pretty dope, though.”

“Can I have a turn being the model?” you asked, holding two flashlights up above your head. “My arms are tired.”

“I’ll buy you McDonald’s if you stop complaining,” Wonwoo offered.

After a lot of dicking around and picture taking, you reached the end of the funhouse: the mirror maze.

“I forgot about the mirror maze,” Wonwoo whined. “Everyone stay close, okay?”

You were at the end with Minghao in front of you. You grabbed onto his shirt to make sure you wouldn’t get lost, even when he stopped to pose for photos in the mirrors.

“Shouldn’t we keep up with the others?” you asked.

“It’s fine,” he promised. “If we run into mirrors, we just go the other way. There’s only one path, ______.”

You stepped away so you wouldn’t be in his shots, patiently waiting as you looked around. But you did a double take when you saw something bright pink in the mirrors. You turned your head back and pointed your light just right to see the reflection of Eight in the mirrors. You turned this way and that to try to see if you could find where the frog animatronic was, but you couldn’t find the source. When you turned back around to see the reflection, it was gone anyway.

‘It couldn’t have gotten out of the food court,’ you told yourself, ‘it’s probably just some dumb affect the mirrors have.’

Deciding the mirrors probably were made to show reflections of the mascots, you thought nothing else of the reflections.

“Let’s go, _____,” Minghao called.

But when you went to step forward, you ran face first into a mirror. You let out a deep sigh, trying to find your way through the maze, but Minghao was already walking ahead of you so you didn’t get any closer -- it didn’t help that you kept crashing into mirrors, anyway.

“Hao!” you called, trying to get him to slow down at wait for you.

But there was no answer.

You hit another mirror, stepping back and rubbing your forehead. As you glared at the mirror in front of you, you saw Eight looming behind you. You whipped around, shining your flashlight just to see reflections of the pink frog on every single mirror, and your stomach suddenly dropped as your blood turned to ice. You weren’t sure why, but you were getting a bad feeling. Your brain going into overdrive knowing you had to get out of the maze, you figured you had two options: find your way through the rest of the mirror maze since it was the last part of the funhouse, or go back the way you came since you were still near the beginning of the mirror maze. The first option would be good since it was the last part of the funhouse, but difficult since you were still at the beginning of the mirror maze. But the second would be good as well since you had the rest of the maze to go and you were having a difficult time, but it meant having to go backwards through the funhouse all alone. So what were you supposed to do?

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There are multiple alernate endings because each choice also had two more choices so here’s all the possible endings for the other options.

Ferris Wheel Ending 1: You would get to the ride with Seungcheol, Junhui, and Mingyu and check it out. At the end of the part, there would be another choice where you could choose to either ride the ferris wheel with Mingyu and Jun while Seungcheol controlled the ride, or you control the ride while you let your three friends ride it. If you control the ride, you’d stop their cart at the very top of the ride to freak out Seungcheol and Mingyu, but from the top of the wheel, Seungcheol would spot Serenity walking toward the ride with its animatronic eyes glowed to life. He would scream for you to get them down, and luckily, you’d manage to do so in time. Junhui would grab your arm and run just before Serenity could get ahold of you. You’d decide to all meet at the merry go round since it’s in the very center of the park.

Ferris Wheel Ending 2: If you chose to let Seungcheol control the ride while you rode it, you, Mingyu, and Junhui would be too loud while messing around on the ride and wouldn’t hear Seungcheol shouting for help when he spots Serenity coming for him. He doesn’t run because his main concern is getting the three of you off the ride safely, but he spots the animatronic too late and it’s already too close. Junhui manages to jump off the ride when the cart is low enough, but Serenity already has ahold on Seungcheol’s shirt. Serenity would crush Seungcheol’s scull between its metal hands. Junhui would yell for you and Mingyu to run, and Mingyu would help you off the ride before the three of you book it to the merry go round.

Bumper Cars Ending 1: You, Jeonghan, Chan, and Seokmin try to get the ride going. Jeonghan has been making jabs at Chan being the baby all night, and makes another comment about how Chan isn’t old enough to drive the bumper cars himself. This sets Chan off and the two begin arguing with you trying to break them, up. Seokmin is frantically trying to get your attention, and points to one of the cars where Bongbong is sitting with its eyes glowing and the lights on the car turns on. If you decided to try to get into one of the cars instead of making a run for it, you end up in a car with Seokmin with you driving, and Jeonghan and Chan manage to get in a car with Jeonghan driving. You do your best to avoid the animatronic, but you know you can only drive around in circles for so long. Chan gets the idea to jump out of the car near the ride controls so he instructs Jeonghan to drive closer to it. He leaps out and shuts down the ride. Bongbong’s car slides into a cluster of other cars while Jeonghan’s bumps into the gate that fences in the ride, and you and Seokmin slide toward Chan. The four of you manage to escape while Bongbong is trying to get out of the car, and you all decide to meet up with everyone else at the merry go round.

Bumper Cars Ending 2: If you decided to make a run for it instead of hopping in a car, you’d slip on the floor of the ride since it’s very slipper, and you’d fall on your face. Bongbong would go to hit you with the car, but Chan would jump in front of you before he could reach you. He’d get knocked backwards, smashing his head off the metal midway that divides the track, dying on impact as his skull cracks open and he bleeds out on the floor. You would scramble to your feet as Jeonghan tries to hop cars with Seokmin who’s panicking, and the three of you would make a run for it toward the merry go round.

Rollercoaster Ending 1: You, Soonyoung, Jihoon, and Seungkwan would make it to the rollercoaster and decide to walk the path on the side that workers use for maintenance and whatnot. There’s a cart still left on the track, but it’s obvious turning the rollercoaster on wouldn’t be very safe. But as your walking the side of the track, you hear what sounds like a rollercoaster going up the hill. You turn your heads toward the hill, but you’re at the bottom of it and can’t see the other side of it. You make out a rollercoaster peaking over the top of the hill before you can make out Horanghae riding in the front of the ride. As the rollercoaster flies down the hill, you press your body up against the railing of the path to get as far away as possible. But it takes Soonyoung by surprise and he falls over the railing. He’s just barely able to grab the railing, dangling well above the ground. Jihoon quickly reacts and grabs onto Soonyoung’s hand to try to help him, but the railing is clearly old and about to fall apart. Seungkwan falls to the floor in shock, unable to move. If you decide to try to grab Soonyoung’s hand that’s holding onto the railing, you and Jihoon manage to pull him back up to safety before the railing can give out. You collect Seungkwan, go down one of the emergency ladders, and decide to go to the merry go round.

Rollercoaster Ending 2: If you decided to grab onto Jihoon instead to pull on him and try to pull Soonyoung up like that, the railing would break. The three of you would fall to the ground, Soonyoung landing beneath the both of you and dying. Your weight as the height of the fall would also kill Jihoon, while you managed to survive from your friends breaking your fall. You would rush up the emergency ladder to get Seungkwan and help him down before going to the merry go round.