#this time i'll be nice to him in the tags :)

[kythed]

loser

tags: friends to more-than(?), virgin!megumi x reader, 18+!, sexual tension, megumi tries his best, stoner reader, cute awkward cunnilingus, heavy on the cunnilingus

megumi watched as you hit your pen, exhaling sweet-smelling clouds into the air.

"you're stinking up my dorm," he said. you just laughed, eyes red and glassy, hair tousled from the hour spent laying on his bed watching television. he lay next to you, a scant inch of space separating your bodies.

"wanna hit?" you said, dangling the pen over his face.

he swatted it away. "hell no. you're killing yourself with that shit."

"it's weed, 'gumi. not crack."

"still killing your brain cells," he huffed. "and you didn't have too many to spare in the first place."

megumi stared at his ceiling, watching the fan spin. he imagined it carrying the scent away, restoring the room to its usual vanilla bean scent—the febreze plug-in he'd bought in september. god, he wished you wouldn't smoke in here.

"ouch," you said, not sounding hurt in the slightest. you giggled, rolling over onto your side to face him. "fine, i'll put it away. let's talk instead."

megumi rolled over onto his side to face you. you were wearing a t-shirt of his you'd stolen and basketball shorts you'd "borrowed", both covered in crumbs, the last remnants of a now-empty chip bag on his nightstand. this close of a friendship certainly had its material downsides.

"okay. what do you want to talk about?" megumi humored you.

"hmm... catch the hockey game on thursday?"

"uh, no. we were drinking at yuuji's."

"oh, right," you said, slapping your forehead. "thanks for holding my hair back, by the way."

"sure. didn't stop you from getting vomit all down your front, though." megumi smiled a little, remembering how—pre-vomit—you’d drunkenly spun across the room and landed in his arms, attempting a bastardized cha-cha slide. he'd had enough tito's to nearly cha-cha back.

"we could talk politics," you drawled, "or maybe art. art history? we just learned about schiele in class. total freaker. or we could debrief kimiko's weird mesh outfit from last weekend again. i feel like we didn't talk about that enough."

"nope, we have most definitely talked about that enough," megumi deadpanned.

"then i don't know what else there is," you complained. you yawned and stretched, extorting your body dramatically, throwing your left leg over his right and leaving it there. megumi would never say it, but he liked that you were more generous with physical contact when high. light touches, the occasional hug that he returned stiffly. in a platonic way, of course. he was just touch starved. probably.

"this may be a sign that we spend too much time together," he said, stroking the edge of the comforter absentmindedly. he did not think that. you'd been his closest friend—one of his only good friends—since freshman year for a reason. there was something about you that was just comfortable. not overly reactive or over-enthusiastic, just... easy. witty. familiar. it was nice.

"hmm..." you wiggled your toes, expression serene. a long silence stretched between you. megumi flicked a crumb off your shoulder and watched it land on the carpet. he'd have to borrow his roommate's vacuum later.

"have you ever had sex?"

megumi nearly choked on his own saliva. "what?"

"you know, how when a man loves a woman they—"

"i know what sex is," he cut you off. "but why are you asking? you wanna know my size for a purity ring, too?"

"i'm just curious," you said, fiddling with the hem of your (his) t-shirt. your expression seemed purposefully casual. megumi stared at you until you looked up and met his eyes. "i have. but only once. he was thirty-five."

"the fuck?" megumi said. "that's quite the age gap."

"i had a tinder phase freshman year. i'd messed around with some guys in high school, oral and stuff, y'know. but i was tired of still being a virgin, and i thought an older guy would know what he was doing."

"oh." he didn’t know what else to say. he felt like this wasn’t a conversation you two should be having. "i mean... did he?"

"i didn't cum," you said easily. megumi wasn't sure how he felt about hearing you say the word 'cum.' his face grew warm. "it was quick, clean... it was, like, fine, i guess."

"just that once?" he said. the question slipped out, and megumi was surprised to find he was actually curious.

"yeah. i figured that was about as good as it was gonna get," you joked. "so... have you? had sex?"

"um..." megumi looked away. "maybe we should go back to talking about kimiko's mesh thing or whatever."

"come on, 'gumi, just tell me," you said, scrunching up your face. "i told you!"

"yeah, but that was completely unsolicited!" he protested. "i'm a more private person than you are!"

"i'm not gonna ask about your fetishes or anything," you said. "like, i know you're probably into some pretty fucked up stuff, 'gumi, like choking, or weird roleplay—"

"stop it, you're so fucking invasive—"

"or maybe latex—yeah, actually, you really do seem like a latex guy! the whole bodysuit situation, you know? with eyeholes and a mouth hole for—"

"no, i haven't had sex, okay?" megumi nearly raised his voice. you stopped. "i'm a loser, virgin, whatever. i'm 21 and i've never seen a girl naked. can we just... stop talking about this, please? i'm wildly uncomfortable. and you're high."

"i'm not that high," you said quietly. you sat up, jostling him as you crossed your legs and turned to look at him. your usually expressive face was still oddly devoid of much emotion. "do you like...? y'know. touch yourself?"

"yes, i masturbate," he said, exasperated. the boundary of propriety had been broken. megumi figured he might as well just answer honestly and try to get you to let go of the topic.

"porn?"

"not really."

"erotic literature?"

"jesus," he said. you just stared at him. he blushed. "i just... use my imagination."

"yeah?" something in your voice shifted. softer. curious.

"uh, yeah."

"what do you imagine?"

"um. like, sex."

"with who?"

"this is getting really weird," he said, scooting slightly away from you on the bed. "let's just turn the tv back on—"

"have you ever imagined me?"

his breath caught. "what the fuck?"

you laughed. "come on, it's not embarrassing if you have. we do spend a ton of time together, and i've been told i'm pretty cute!"

megumi opened his mouth, ready to deny it outright. but then he remembered. once. twice. a few times. after too many drinks. he always tried to forget afterward, washing away the guilt with kleenex and hand soap. washing away the images of you, your hot, bare skin, chest heaving. the sound of your soft, girly sighs. your tightness. fuck.

your smile told him you already knew. "oh."

"no, it's not—"

"it’s okay, ‘gumi," you said, your expression unreadable. you even laughed, and he flushed, partially with anger, and partially with the embarrassing beginnings of arousal. "really."

"sure, (name). i have most definitely thought about you naked while masturbating," he said, trying to play it off with convincing sarcasm. "because that's what i find sexy."

you were quiet, obviously unconvinced. megumi clenched his fist in the comforter. fuck. this was not good.

"do you wanna see in real life?"

"what?"

"see me naked, i mean."

yes, he did. of course he did. but not enough to sacrifice your friendship. "no, i don't—"

"it won't fuck things up if you just look." you brushed his hand with your fingertips, and he didn't move away.

"just... look?"

"yeah," you said. warmly. kindly. with a thumb under your waistband already. you were so generous. "just look."

the room already smells like sex, he thought suddenly, and scolded himself for thinking it. no. you're just gonna look. just look.

"okay," he heard himself saying. "maybe i'll just look, then."

"yeah?" you slipped the shorts down low enough to show a cute undie waistband, white, dotted with pale yellow hearts. it was very you. megumi didn't even know how he knew that—he'd never seen you in any underwear. but he realized he liked how you looked in that pretty, almost childish pair of panties, swimming in his big t-shirt and rolled up shorts. then you pushed them down enough to expose a smooth hip bone, an expanse of soft skin across your pelvis, and he felt a real heat somewhere down there. you stared at him expectantly.

"please show me, (name)," he said quietly. finally. against his better judgement.

so you did.

megumi held his breath as you wriggled out of the shorts, as you reached under your t-shirt, unfastened your bra (black, with lace, totally mismatched in a way he found somewhat endearing), and unceremoniously dropped it on the floor. you leaned back on his pillows, and he forced himself to stay put. it was so embarrassing, the way his eyes were tracking your every movement—you were just friends, after all, and friends didn't do this shit. but he wasn't going to tell you to stop. not now.

"you ready, 'gumi?" you said. you smiled as cheerily as if you were asking if he was ready to start a game of checkers.

"you're doing this on purpose," he said, eyes tracing the outline of your mound underneath the thin fabric. it all felt so dirty. he hadn't known you could be like that. "irritating me. as always."

"i don't know what you're talking about," you said softly. your t-shirt rode up as you settled back further into the pillows, exposing a faint trail of hair beneath your belly button. (cute.) you hooked your finger on your panties.

"just fucking take them off if you're going to," megumi said. he knew he sounded fucking horny. he didn't really care, 'cause he was. it was probably too late to pretend he wasn't. you could definitely see it through his sweatpants, anyway.

"okay," you breathed, and finally, finally, you slid your panties off and spread your legs, taking your fingers and gently spreading the lips of your pussy so he could see every soft, wet fold. it was prettier than he had ever imagined because it was realer than he had ever imagined, and yeah, fuck—he had imagined it.

so sue me, he thought, feeling himself lean closer to get a better look as you gently pulled the hood of your clit back so he could see. it was a little nub, somewhat of an odd looking body part, he thought, but he shivered when he saw you clench on air as you brushed across it with your fingertip.

"does it feel good when you do that?" megumi asked, trying to keep his voice to a clinical monotone. you looked right him and smiled with half-lidded eyes, rubbing little circles in your clit.

"mm... yeah, it does," you sighed. your voice went straight to his cock. he looked down and noticed a small wet spot on his sweatpants. fuck, he was leaking already. you'd noticed, too. "you wanna take a closer look, 'gumi?"

"um. yeah. yes," he said. you gestured for him to come over, so he did, on his hands and knees; he knew it was undignified and desperate, but he couldn't help it. he dropped onto his belly so he could be eye-level with your pussy. he could smell it from here, hot, a little sweet and sweaty. different than anything he'd smelled before.

"you wanna give her a little kiss, maybe?" you said. it almost sounded like a joke, but he knew it wasn't. megumi hadn't thought you'd be the kind of girl to call your pussy a 'her.' he liked it.

"i thought you said only looking," he said, not taking his eyes off you. you clenched again, throbbing painfully.

"i thought you knew me well enough to know i don't really believe in rules," you said, and that was all megumi needed to hear. if the friendship was going to end up ruined, you'd probably already passed that point. might as well enjoy the fall now.

megumi swiftly took your waist and pulled you towards him; you yelped and giggled, but your laugh was turned into a gasp when he licked a long stripe up your vulva, landing square on your clit. he licked that again, then kissed the little nub like he'd seen in raunchy adult videos. he sucked, hard, and you cried out.

"hey, no! gentle," you chided, and megumi blushed.

"i'm sorry," he said, panting a little. "i... i don't really know what i'm doing."

"do it like this," you said. you took his hand and gave the crease between your index and middle finger several quick kitten licks in succession. then you gave his palm a soft kiss, staring down at him with those sharp but kind eyes. god, he loved your eyes.

"okay," he said. he could follow directions. he returned to the task at hand and gave you a hesitant little lick on the clit, and when you sighed in assent, he did it again, and again.

"fuck, yes," you sighed, sliding a hand into his hair as he gave your clit a gentler suckle before returning to the little licks you seemed to like so much. he moaned into you, feeling your tug his hair harder when he did. you pushed his face into your pussy, and he groaned, unable to resist rutting into the mattress. fuck, the friction felt good. you seemed to like it when he did that, too, because you moaned when he did, tummy taut and trembling.

megumi let a pool of his saliva collect and spit it onto your clit, using his index finger to rub circles on it like he'd seen you do earlier. "feel good?"

"so good," you said, grabbing his other hand and interlacing your fingers with his. his chest tightened. that felt intimate. "ah, 'gumi, please, faster."

"fuck, (name). you're fucking hot," he said, hating the way the vulgar words felt on his tongue but loving how they sounded, how they made you wriggle on the bed, rut your pussy up into his hand.

"put a finger in," you said breathily.

"what?"

"i said finger fuck me, 'gumi. now," you said, and for a second you were back to your normal opinionated self. his friend. his best friend. then you pulled your shirt up to expose your tits, and pulled his other hand to your pussy, and everything was new again.

megumi growled deep in the back of his throat before leaning forward to kiss your tits. he licked your peaked nipples, alternating between them, and at the same time, slipped his index finger into your hot, wet pussy. he moaned despite himself. you were fucking tight. you were basically a virgin too, he reasoned. sex once. 'messing around' at other times, whatever that meant. he found he didn't like that other boys had touched you like this.

fuck, he was so hard. he humped the mattress again—it wasn't nearly enough.

"oh, fuck," you moaned, crying out as megumi slipped another finger in, curling them in you, feeling around your walls. he finger-fucked you aggressively until you sobbed once, and grabbed his wrist. he liked the way your face contorted when it hurt a little, and that scared him.

"please, 'gumi, gentle," you said, cupping his face with you hand. he leaned into it, apologetic. "too much, seriously. just... kiss me now, okay?"

"okay," he breathed, a little embarrassed at his ineptitude. and then he leaned down and kissed you, soft, sweet, long. how funny, he thought, that your first kiss together happened only after he'd already started eating you out. he wondered if you could taste yourself as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, as he bit your bottom lip, as he held the back of your neck firmly. when you finally broke away, you were both panting.

"now get down there and make me cum," you said with an ironic little smile. megumi didn't have to be told twice. he gave you one last slow, longing kiss, then descended again to your pussy. he spread your legs wide, propped them on his shoulders, and then used his fingers to pull the hood of your clit back. he grinned at you from below, and you stared at him, helpless and eager. whining, you bucked up into his face, and he took the hint, beginning to lick, suck, and kiss your clit. when you moaned or whined he kept doing whatever he was doing, relishing the way you grabbed at him, arching your back. he ate you wildly, feeling your wetness mix with his saliva and spread all across his cheeks and nose. frankly, he didn't give a fuck. you tasted a little sweet, a little salty. and he loved it.

"fuck, nngh," you gasped, wriggling in megumi's grasp. he kept eating you as you did. "i'm gonna cum, 'gumi, i can feel it. i can fucking feel it, oh god, you're so fucking good, baby, oh fuck, i—"

at the last second, megumi slipped a finger in as he licked, just so he could feel your pussy throb and clench when you came. he let you ride the orgasm out on his tongue, feeling like a damn god when you did, pushing his face into your pussy, letting it leak on him.

megumi wasn't quite sure what happened in the minutes immediately after you finished. he could vaguely recall you wiping his face on your t-shirt and giggling. giving him a soft kiss, which he returned more than willingly. it was as if he was in a trance and suddenly came to with you curled up by his side in just his shirt.

"hey." you gazed up at him, glassy-eyed and flushed as you traced the hard bulge in his pants, and he shuddered, staring down at you, watching you palm him through the fabric.

"hey," he breathed, peering into your face, searching for a change in that comfortable homeostasis of the friendship. he couldn't tell. maybe nothing had shifted. maybe everything had.

"let's take care of you next," you said, leaning over the side of the bed to grab something. "got any condoms?"

"um, no," said megumi, hastily adding, "but i can definitely run to the corner store really quick or someth—hey! i thought we agreed you'd stop hitting the pen in here!"

you exhaled, grinned, and he wrinkled his nose. at least one thing had stayed the same.

"i'll get dressed and we can go together. got any sweats i can borrow?"

"yeah."

well, megumi reasoned, as he rummaged through his drawers for you. you were always going to do what you wanted, and he was always going to let you. and maybe that was just natural.

[bisexualhedgehogs]

I had a silly idea about a possible way Shadow could meet the Wachowskis again after falling back to earth, so I wrote something for it. I'll make an ao3 account at some point and post it there as well. Warnings for injuries i guess? Nothing too bad tho.

Anyway enjoy my dumb one shot (also hints of possible sonadow but way too early for either of them to understand any feelings yet)

Shadow's first thoughts after landing hard into the ground were how dizzy and cold he was. He had to think for a moment, had he survived that blast? Must have. You dont feel this sore all over if you're dead. He groaned and slowly rolled onto his back and looked up at the sky. It was a vibrant shade of blue, similar to Sonic, he realized. He hoped the idiot was alive as he watched some clouds go by. He was so distracted by his anger the last few days that he had not noticed how beautiful the sky was during the day too. He could feel the burns on his skin start to heal, and he stayed there for a while until the sun began to set. Then he had to force himself up and search for his disgarded inhibitor rings. Luckily, they landed nearby.

Once they were found, he tried to figure out where he was. He was in a crater among some tall snow-capped mountains. He had landed in some sort of dense wilderness. The view was wonderful, but the air was starting to get even more of a chill. His gloves had partially disintegrated during his fall through earths atmosphere, and he could feel the cold on the pads of his hands. Honestly, he could feel it down to his core, like his bones were cold. He had to move though.

He checked if his air shoes were still in tact enough for him to glide instead of walking, and thankfully, they were. He didn't have enough chaos energy at the moment to just teleport down the mountain. His lower left leg was trying to heal from what he guessed was some sort of fracture or strain, and putting weight on it was incredibly uncomfortable. Even gliding still hurt, but he was able to ignore it for now. He had to. He stopped to hide in various small caves and under fallen tree roots when he thought he heard humans nearby walking around or needed to rest his leg.

After over a week in the forest, around dusk, he came across a large sign that read, "Welcome to Green Hills." He moved slower as a brief rain and snow shower mix blew through. He shivered and tried to stay hidden as he approached town. He realized the glow from his shoes could give him away, and now he had no choice but to walk, which turned into a limp.

"Fuck, maybe I did break something," he hissed as he stopped to rest again. The lack of food was slowing his healing. He ended up taking his shoe off on that foot and carrying it. The weight of it was hurting too much. He realized he had never felt grass under his bare feet before. It was nice, even if it was crunchy and cold.

He continued walking along the road, avoiding stepping in any patches of snow as best he could, just out of sight in the treeline. He was lost in thought when a deer ran out in front of him and startled him enough that he used what little chaos energy he had to move. Big mistake since he didn't have a specific location in mind. He panicked and landed hard on the road, directly in front of a large pickup up truck that had swerved to miss the deer from seconds ago, and it did not have time to brake fully. The pain in his leg and blinding headlights in his eyes made him freeze as his ears went flat against his head.

‐---------------

About 10 minutes earlier, Sonic was helping Maddie load some groceries into the back of the truck. Normally, all three boys would tag along, but with Tom still healing and insisting he needed the air, Knuckles and Tails stayed home to prevent any accidental added stress. Sonic tagged along since he did not like leaving Tom's side yet.

Speaking of Tom, there was some short bickering between the two adults, as Tom had snuck into the driver's seat while she was loading everything into the back.

"It's 15 minutes back home, let me drive. Please? I drive with one arm all the time."

Sonic laughs, "Yeah, when you're stuffing your face full of donuts, but you could still use that arm."

Maddie groaned, "Okay fine, but if you're so healed and competent now, you can also make dinner when we get home."

"Deal." Tom couldn't hide his grin, and Maddie looked ready to slap him on the back of his head. Sonic was seatbelted between them, kicking his legs, happy his family was getting back to normal. He opened the sunroof so he could look at the stars that were peaking out behind some clouds. He became uncharacteristically quiet and lost in thought.

"You thinking about Shadow again, Bud?" Tom finally asked him.

Sonic nodded, "yeah, I just miss him. He deserved a second chance, and he didn't even get to fully take it. Doesn't seem fair."

Maddie pet his head, "I know, sweetie, earth failed him. I'm just so glad we found you before GUN did. We are definitely never trusting them again"

Sonic leaned against her and watched the stars for another minute or so until they completed disappeared behind some clouds. He closed the sunroof when it started to rain and snow a bit.

He shivered, "I thought I smelled snow. It sure felt cold enough."

Maddie side eyed her husband, "Tom, I swear if you crash in this weather, I will kill you."

Tom laughed nervously, "Relax, it's not even sticking to the road at all. Actually, it looks like it stopped up ahead."

Suddenly, Sonic started sneezing, repeatedly.

Maddie groaned, "Sonic, is there just something in your nose, or is danger coming."

Tom scoffed, "Oh come on, him sneezing is not a sign of danger, that's just a coincid- ... OH SHIT."

They all screamed as a deer suddenly ran out in front of them, and he had to swerve and brake.

Sonic yelled, "SEE NOT A COINCID- ... LOOK OUT!" Something black and spikey suddenly appeared on the road as well. They were still mid swerve, and Tom could not swerve again without risking tipping the truck. He also was a bit too shocked to see those red eyes glowing at them. All he could think to do was slam on the brakes as hard as he could. They felt one of the front truck tires bounce over something.

Shadow managed to duck his head down in time, but said truck tire went over his already injured leg that he couldn't curl up to his body as fast as the other one. There was a lot of screaming from inside the truck that was now above him. One of the voices sounded familiar. He couldn't chaos control himself again, still entirely too worn out. He was afraid he would land somewhere worse anyway and could only mentally prepare himself to run if need be.

Inside the truck, Maddie and Tom slowly looked at each other before finally looking down at the Sonic. Sonic looked just as shocked as them before he finally unbuckled himself and stood up on the seat, "Tom, we told you you shouldn't drive with one arm! You just got out of the hospital yesterday, and you hit a ... a ... hedgehog? wait. Wait. ... was that Shadow. Is he alive? ... oh god, the truck bounced ... OH MY GOD, DAD, DID YOU JUST RUN OVER SHADOW?????." He zipped out of the car in a flash, and Maddie gave her husband an exhausted look before she soon followed.

Tom needed another moment before he got out as well. 'What the hell just happened', he thought. These kids were going to give him a stroke.

Sonic quickly got on the ground behind the truck and looked under the bed. Yep, there was Shadow, curled up between the back tires with his quills sticking out in all crazy directions in defense, clearly giving into the instinct to make himself as big and scary as possible. "Jeez, you look like a wet feral cat under there. Why are you missing a shoe? Are you okay?"

There were some orange sparks and a low growl before he realized who was talking to him. "... Sonic? What are you -"

Before he could register anything, Sonic grinned and quite literally yanked him out from under the truck by his quills and pulled him into a hug. Shadow actually hissed at him.

"Oh, come on, it's just a hug, relax. And the quill thing was payback for throwing me by mine back at that base." He laughed, and then paused. "I'm so glad you're alive, Shadow." Sonic sounded almost ready to cry from relief. Shadow could even hear Sonics tail moving behind him, softly thumping against the road.

Shadow sighed. "It's not that," his voice was a bit shakey from adrenaline still. "I hurt my leg in the fall, and then whatever idiot is driving your truck ran it over. If it wasn't broken before, it sure is now"

Sonic pulled away from him and looked over at his leg. It looked swollen, some skin and fur was also scrapped off. "Oh, that's why you're holding your shoe. MADDIE, he's hurt. Come quick. Tom ran over his leg"

Shadows quills bristled as she slowly approached with a first aid kit and a flashlight. "Who is she?"

"Shhh, relax, Shadow. I won't hurt you. I'm Maddie. Tom's wife, otherwise known as the idiot who ran you over. You've, uh, met before." Her tone was a little sharper at the end than she meant for it to sound. She felt bad when shadow flinched at her tone. He looked incredibly pathetic with his ears back like that and visibly shivering. And young. He must be Sonic's age. 'Oh no, we're going to adopt this one too arent we?' She thought to herself.

Sonic was about to reassure Shadow that it was safe when Tom got out of the truck.

"I'm an idiot? Why is he appearing out of thin air into traffic? I didn't even know you kids could do stuff like that" He didn't sound mad. He was even laughing a little. Until he saw Shadow's leg. He frowned and knelt down beside them. Shadow backed up into Sonic and growled again. He looked very nervous now. Both adults felt their heartstrings tug a little. He just looked like a scared kid to them. "Sorry, I didn't mean to hit you. You're safe, don't worry."

Shadow stopped growling and just titled his head confused, " ... you didn't hit me on purpose? For revenge?"

Sonic rolled his eyes and hugged him again, "Dude, we seriously need to ban that word from your vocabulary."

Tom laughed, "No, of course not." He realized Shadow was being completely serious and not joking. "Wait, why would I purposely try to run you over?"

Shadow glared, "Do you have brain damage? I almost killed you. I'm a little impressed you survived actually." He added dryly.

"Oh trust me, I remember. But you think that means I should try to get back at you, though? You're a kid." He seemed concerned at his way of thinking. Especially when Shadow just answered "yes" like it was the most obvious answer in the world. He even almost seemed annoyed now that this wasn't on purpose.

"I don't need your pity." He just leaned into Sonic, quills deflating finally. He was so focused on Tom that he didn't even realize Maddie had begun to check his leg until he felt pain from her moving it. He shot her a warning glare and growled, "I didn't say you could touch me."

Sonic squeezed him, "Hey, easy, she's a vet. If you dont trust her, at least trust me. Besides, if you don't let her splint that, I'll have to. And I'll make Knuckles restrain you." Sonic smiled but also looked completely serious.

Shadow groaned, "is he the red one?" Sonic nodded in response, resting his head on top of Shadow's. He couldn't even use his chaos control now even if he wanted to with Sonic having such a firm grip on him. Something told him Sonic was aware of this too. "Fine, but only because I want that big brute touching me even less."

Maddie laughed a little and finished bandaging his leg. She also examined his bare foot for injuries. "Well, I'll have to properly resplint this later with better supplies, but all your adorable little toe beans look in tact besides being cold."

Shadow looked at her like she was insane, "what the fuck is a toe bean?" Sonic started laughing into Shadows quills. Even Tom laughed, which startled Shadow. "I don't get what's so funny."

"Just the way you said it, and it's a cute way to refer to pawpads." Maddie joined in the laughter and rubbed his foot to warm it up a little.

"Stop that. I'm fine. ... and I'm not cute"

Sonic looked at his face and grinned, "I'm telling you from experience. Pouting does not help. They also think that's cute. Humans are weird like that."

Shadow tried to finally squirm out of Sonic's embrace, "Can I get up now? The road is cold and staying here will draw too much attention"

Maddie nodded and helped Sonic get Shadow into the truck. She had to move to the middle so Shadow could rest with his back against the door and his leg over Sonic's lap. Thankfully, him and Sonic were small enough to both fit onto the passenger seat without being too squished. He also obviously trusted Sonic and didn't mind being so close to him. If Shadow didn't look so apprehensive of them still, she would have commented on how cute they looked together like that.

Instead, Maddie just turned up the heat when she realized Shadow was shivering still. "You look cold. Do you want a blanket? I think there is one behind your seat. How long were you in the woods?"

He sighed as Sonic made the decision for him and got the blanket out, and draped it over him. "A week, I think. Maybe longer. I landed in the mountains."

"Well, when we get home, you can have a nice warm bath and something to eat. You're probably starving. ... and dehydrated. Oh no have you been without water this whole time?"

Shadow snuggled a bit more into the blanket (and Sonic) before answering, "No, I drank from a couple streams, I'm fine." He still didn't understand why they were being so kind. He didn't feel he deserved it. After a long silence, he finally spoke again with a low voice. "Sorry."

Tom pulled into the driveway of their house, and him and Maddie exchanged looks before looking back at Shadow. "For what specifically?"

Shadow's ears were flat against his head again. He looked quite sad and guilty. "For attacking you, I ... I thought you were Walters. He's the one who froze me for 50 years. I was just so angry ... and I wanted him to hurt. He didn't even let me finish saying goodbye." He hated how his voice cracked at the end. He wanted to curl up in a ball, but his leg wouldn't allow it.

Sonic pulled him into another hug, or as much of one as he could with Shadow's left leg also resting on his lap. Maddie slowly put a hand on his head. Shadow flinched a little but didn't protest. She softly pet behind one of his ears, like she does with Sonic when he's upset.

Tom finally spoke, "I hold no grudge against you Shadow, you're just a kid like Sonic. And I can't say I wouldn't have also punched Walters if I went through something like that. Besides, you also saved the world, which includes us. Now, let's get you inside."

Shadow just hid his face into the blanket. "I don't deserve your kindness." His voice cracked more. He really really didn't want to cry, but he was so tired of it all, tired of fighting and hating himself, tired of being so cold. Just everything. It was becoming harder to keep it together. He was absolutely exhausted. He could feel himself shaking more, and he hoped they just assumed it was only because he was cold still.

Maddie pet his head again, "You know, the friend you lost would probably want us to be kind to you. And for you to accept it. So let us."

This time, when he tried to talk, he couldn't find his voice. A small sob escaped instead, and he covered his head with the blanket, which caused Sonic to hug him as tight as he could. They were right, Maria would want someone to help him. It was just hard to accept. He needed a minute to calm himself, but he eventually allowed Maddie to pry him away from Sonic and carry him inside.

He tried to protest being carried like a child, but she would not allow it, not with a broken leg anyway. So he accepted it and rested his head on her shoulder, sniffling a few times as quietly as he could.

Once inside, Sonic got his other shoe off, and what was left of a very dirty burned sock, and placed both shoes by the door next to his. Knuckles and Tails looked up from the couch, and Tom shushed them before they could react too loudly. Even though Shadow was mostly covered by the blanket, the other two instantly recognized the fur pattern on his legs and feet. Tails ears were back, clearly concerned about how bad the one leg looked.

"Is that the more impressive hedgehog? Is he alright?" Knuckles finally asked.

Maddie held Shadow tighter when she felt him tense up, "Yes, and he'll be fine, mostly cold, I think. I'm going to take him upstairs for a bath and a proper look at his leg. Go help Tom with dinner since he still has his arm in a sling. He'll explain everything. You too, Sonic."

"Yeah, let me tell you both how Tom clearly shouldn't be driving yet and literally ran Shadow over with the truck."

Maddie could hear them bicker about it while she walked upstairs. She set Shadow down on the bathroom counter while she got the bath started. His eyes were still a bit wet, but he looked calmer now, just tired. She held some bottles up to him, "Which of these scents do you like better?"

Shadow seemed surprised, "I get to pick? Why?"

Maddie looked concerned at his confusion, "I want you to like it. No one wants to smell like something they don't like."

He slowly sniffed the bottles, and finally picked the lavender ones. He wrapped the blanket tighter around himself while she undid the makeshift splint and checked his leg.

"If you'll trust me, I would like to get this x-rayed tomorrow. Sonic can stay with you. You might need a cast"

"You don't need to, just splint it so the bone is straight, and it should fully heal in a few days as long as I eat something."

She sighed, "I shouldn't believe you, but nothing would surprise me these days with you bunch. Oh the skin has already healed from being run over. Alright, but if there is no improvement in a few days, I'm taking you. Now, let's get you warmed up. You're still shaking."

"Yeah, well, I went from nearly burning as I fell through your atmosphere to plumetting into a snow-covered mountain."

Maddie paused for a moment, "You fell? All the way down to earth? How are you not burned and more injured ... how are you even alive." She began to palpate him, discovering some cracked ribs.

"Stop, I'm fine. The burns healed already. Bones just take longer. ... and I'm not sure, honestly. ... I wasn't expecting to live."

She really didn't like how disappointed he seemed to be over being alive. Might be time to finally look for a therapist. She brushed the thought aside and picked him up again to help him get into the tub, which he grumbled about but couldn't really stop her. "Well, I'm glad you're alive. You can't make up for what you did if you're dead. And Sonic would have kept being sad."

He slowly sank down into the water, covering himself up to his chin. At least he looked more relaxed now. Finally he asked, "Sonic was sad? Over me?"

She began to wash his quills and detangle them. She was a pro at this after having to help Sonic with his so often. "Of course he was. He hasn't stopped talking about you. The first thing he did when Tom woke up was tell him about what you two did. I'm pretty sure he has some sort of crush on you. It's cute."

Shadow chose to ignore the part about Sonic liking him like that. Clearly, this woman was just stupid. "Yeah, well, he's weird." Despite that, he began to purr softly as she washed his quills, at least until something fell out of his quills and startled them both. He slowly lifted a green gemstone out of the water.

Maddie laughed, "Oh my god, that's where the last one has been. They've been looking for days. Knuckles will bear hug you when he finds out it's safe"

Shadow winces, "Uh, maybe the blue idiot can give it to him then."

She went back to detangling his quills and scrubbing his head, "You know, you'll have to get used to them since you'll be staying here now"

"I didn't make that decision," he tried to sound more serious, but his voice turned into a purr and clicking noise when she scratched his head again. He looked a bit surprised by the noise. Before Maddie could say anything, he looked her dead in the eyes, "Do not call me cute again."

She smiled at him, "Fine, I won't. You're definitely a hedgehog like Sonic though. Also where would you stay if not here? This is the safest place from GUN. Any weird energy outputs, and we just can blame it on Sonic. Unless you want to live outside. During the winter. It gets very cold here." She knew if he was like Sonic, he hated being cold.

Shadow shivered at the thought, "Fine ... why you insist after I almost killed your husband, though, is still strange. You're all strange" He really was starting to think they all had brain damage.

"You're not a bad kid, Shadow. You're just a teenager. A very traumatized one, I assume, from what I've been told. You deserve a second chance. Besides, Sonic wouldn't forgive us if we didn't try. He could have easily ended up like you."

"I guess ..." It was clearly going to take some work to get him to feel like he deserves kindness. He just rested his head on the side of the tub while she finished washing his back, then she let him do the rest.

Once finished, she wrapped him in a big towel and placed him back by the sink. She put a proper splint on his leg and blowdried and brushed him as much as he would allow before bringing him downstairs where Tom was finishing up dinner. Tails and Knuckles were sitting at the table. Sonic had finished telling them what happened and to be nice to Shadow (mostly aimed at Knuckles), and they agreed. They were also glad Shadow was alive. Knuckles commented that he deserved a second chance like he had gotten. Although he wanted a rematch once the black hedgehog was healed.

When Maddie walked into the dining room still holding him, Tom couldn't help but laugh, "Wow, he gets even fluffier than Sonic does."

She smiled at him, "Right? And look at these cute little ear tufts too. He's more Maine Coon cat than he is hedgehog."

Shadow scowled as one of his ears twitched, "Why does everyone keep comparing me to a cat." Maria used to do it too. He never understood.

She ignored him and sat him down on a chair beside Tails. Sonic ran up and put a stool under his leg. Then he suddenly grabbed one of Shadow's hands.

"Well, these don't help the cat comparisons. jeez, these claws are crazy sharp. We're filing those later so I don't get shredded in my sleep. Do you want some gloves though? We're usually pretty sensitive about our hands being bare. We can make you some new ones."

"No I'm fine, I don't really care. Just stop touching me." He shook his hand out of Sonics, a little overwhelmed at all the attention on him.

"You literally cuddled with me the whole ride home." Sonic teased him.

Before Shadow could respond to him, Tails suddenly was much closer to him. Too close. "Hi Shadow. Good to see you're alive. How do your shoes work? Do you want me to fix them up? They look so cool." He had been inspecting Shadow's shoes that Sonic put by the door earlier.

Shadow looked surprised and even more overwhelmed. But slowly, he tilted his head, "Why do you want to?"

Knuckles caught on to Shadow's body language and pulled Tails back properly into his seat, and gave him a look.

"Oh, sorry," he laughed, his tails swishing behind him. "And I dont know, they look important to you, I didn't see any power source though, how do you hover?"

"They are, a friend made them for me. I power them with my chaos energy. I still don't understand why you want to help me though." Kindness was definitely going to take a while to accept.

Tails just smiled at him, "Well, Sonic trusts you, so I will too. And you saved us all. So you can't be that bad." Knuckles nodded in agreement.

Shadow just blinked at him, "I kicked you and threw a car at you."

Knuckles laughed, "That was nothing for me and my muscles. Besides, when I first met the fox, he hit me with a police car. It's practically tradition at this point."

Shadow looked surprised, "why?"

"I was trying to kill the less impressive hedgehog." He laughed as he said this and pointed at Sonic. "The fox was protecting him."

"Dude, just say our names. You know our names. And that's nothing. Tom shot me when we first met." Sonic finally took a seat on the other side of Shadow.

Shadow just slowly looked over at Tom, who was carrying some food in.

"With a tranquilizer gun! No bullets. Jeez. Sonic, please stop leaving that part out."

Sonic just laughed.

"The fuck is wrong with your family Sonic." Shadow finally commented, he looked bewildered.

They all laughed despite his use of language again. That was a conversation for a different day. Tom put a hand on Shadows shoulder, "Well, maybe now you can see why I dont hold a grudge for you punching me. I'm pretty used to this kind of chaos."

Shadow still thought they were all crazy, but he stopped fighting it. Maddie got him to eat a little pasta, and Shadow just observed them all laughing and talking with one another.

Sonic finally spoke to Shadow again after a bit when he noticed him looking lost, ear twitching again as he was listening to everyone. "Oh, uh, Shads. I noticed you tilt your head whenever you're confused about something. That also doesn't help the cute thing. Even I think that's a bit adorable. Why is your ear doing that?"

Shadow scowled and swatted at him when he tried to touch his ear, "Stop calling me cute, I am not cute. I am the ultimate lifeform."

Maddie burst out laughing before stopping, "Oh my god, oh. ... Tom, I think he's serious. Of course you are honey."

Shadow growled, but she didn't seem phased. "You know, if you are the ultimate lifeform, then you would be the best at everything. Including being adorable. Yes?"

Shadow slowly relaxed and stared at her for a moment, seriously contemplating her words. "I suppose I can't argue with that."

Sonic huffed and faked being offended, "Are you implying that you think he's cuter than me? Mom."

Knuckles laughed loudly, "Well, he clearly is the superior hedgehog."

Sonic looked actually offended now, and everyone laughed. Even Shadow smiled a little.

After dinner, Shadow got Knuckle's attention and slowly handed him the missing emerald, "I was told this belongs to you."

Knuckles looked beyond surprised and thrilled, "The last one! It is not lost forever after all! I will visit Wade tomorrow and reform the Master Emerald." He went to hug Shadow.

Shadow quickly put his hands up, "No, no, broken ribs. Hug Sonic instead in my place"

Before Sonic could register what was happening, he was pulled into a bone crushing hug. Literally you could hear them cracking. Sonic groaned. "Please let me go, I'm not dying like this."

Knuckles laughed and put him down, "Don't be so dramatic blue hedgehog. This is the best news we have had all week! We can continue our pact to protect the emerald. Thank you, Shadow."

Shadow gave him a small smile before Sonic interrupted, "What you can't call me by my name. Why are you so weird."

Before Knuckles could respond, Shadow got off the chair, using it to support his weight so he could keep his leg off the ground. He ruffled Sonic's quills and then flicked his forehead, "He probably does it because you get so worked up. You're an easy target."

"Wow, rude. I am not. ... wait" Sonic suddenly realized how much shorter Shadow looked. He grinned ear to ear, "Oh my god, am I taller than you? Aren't you older than me?"

Shadow scowled, "Absolutely not ... okay, maybe. Barely."

Sonic just laughed as Shadow started to pout. "I told you pouting also makes you look cute. Especially combined with the ear twitch."

Shadow covered his ears and growled at Sonic and Knuckles, who was also laughing loudly. Even Tails laughed a little.

Maddie and Tom interrupted them before the bickering got any louder, especially since Shadow was starting to spark. "Okay, enough picking on each other for one night, go settle in upstairs. Knuckles carry Shadow. ... gently."

"I will make sure not to make his injuries worse."

Shadow protested, but he couldn't exactly outrun anyone right now and had to accept his fate. Once upstairs, everyone talked a bit and played some board games. Sonic and Shadow immediately were competitive. Sonic also kept his word and forced Shadow to let him file down his nails a little bit. Just enough they weren't so sharp at the tips.

When it was time for bed, Sonic insisted that Shadow share his, especially when he found out Shadow had never slept on an actual bed before. Shadow was pretty sure Sonic just wanted to keep a hold of him so he wouldn't chaos control himself out of there in the middle of the night. He did consider it, but he also felt safe and warm for the first time in a very long time. And he let himself finally rest.

___________________

(Little note, the sneezing thing I got from someone talking about how in one of the earlier sonic games, it was strongly suggested that sonic had some sort of danger sense. It manifested as him sneezing right before something was about to hurt/kill him. I thought that was really funny and cute so I added it in here)

[the-kr8tor]

Valentine's day Mishaps

Pairing: tasm! Peter Parker x fem! Reader/ Spider-Man x fem! Reader

Word count: 3k

Summary: Your first ever valentine's date as a couple goes haywire when spidey duties interrupt.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (except for clothing), Reader has nicknames, CW food mentions, CW injury mention, established relationship, lovestruck! Peter, best friends to lovers/ childhood friends to lovers, fluff.

Requested by @yumeaoka-chan - Let's see. A Valentine's Day request for Peter Parker, please. Andrew Garfield's version, of course🤭💕It's your first Valentine's as a couple and Peter has planned this day/night out to a tee. Whatever he has planned can be up to you. However, nothing is going how he wants it to go, interruptions and accidents happening all throughout it. He's all upset and chastising himself, apologizing to you when you really don't mind it. You thought everything was going perfectly, just enjoying being with him. Something along the lines of that🤭💕

Navigation

“Pete?” You call out groggily from the bed, eyes scrunched up to look at the darkened silhouette by the door as you lean on the nightstand and click on the lamp.

Peter walks into the light, revealing his signature Parker smile while he carries a full tray of clinking dishes. The room is dark thanks to the blackout curtains that he gifted you a few months ago after briefly complaining about the sun shining right on your eyes at the crack of dawn. Of course he can't let the love of his life suffer.

“Sorry, did I wake you up?” He winces, socked feet padding on the carpet as he makes his way towards you. “This was supposed to be a surprise.”

“I thought you were my sleep paralysis demon.” Peter chuckles as you sit up. You give him your best smile even though sleep still clings to your lashes. “Surprise?”

Peter lays the tray carefully over your lap, revealing breakfast dishes that consist of fresh fruits that's drizzled in condensed milk. A hearty stack of waffles with whipped cream and honey, a cup of coffee, a glass of orange juice and a croissant. A long stemmed rose sits right next to the glass, you feel like soaring. Especially when he gives you a wobbly smile.

He expects you to grab the rose or a spoon, but you reach over the tray to grasp at his face, quickly placing a kiss on his lips. It takes him aback for a few seconds, but he quickly reciprocates, brown eyes closed, humming as you feel him smile against the lips.

The two of you part with a resounding smack, but your eyes never leave the lovestruck look on his face. “Happy Valentine's day, Peter. You already got me beat.”

“It's not a competition,” he shrugs, doing his best not to topple over the tray. “I'm winning though.”

Chuckling, you give him one last smooch on each of his cheeks, tip of his nose, temple and forehead. Which was not the last of it as you come back and chase his lips again to press a sweet kiss.

“You are, I'll get you soon.”

“Don't threaten me with a good time, honey.” Before you pull away, he takes your hand and kisses your knuckles. “Eat, I wanna see the absolute bliss on your face when you take a bite.”

“Where’s yours?” You ask as you pick up a fork.

“I already ate.” He says, nose scrunched up.

“You ate all the duds, huh?”

He nods, guilty.

You hum, grinning at him as you take a bite. Sure enough you showed him absolute bliss.

—

Peter helps you put on your coat as if you need help. But you let him, how could you not when he stares at you with those big puppy eyes of his?

“So, first Valentine's together, what do you want to do?” His warm palms close the buttons on your coat, and tucking in your pretty red scarf inside the collar. “I've got something planned for tonight, so we kinda have to wait for it.” Looking at you through his lashes, Peter seems apologetic even though you're staring at him with so much love.

“I know it's cold, Pete, but how about a nice walk around central park to start off?” You nervously say as your fingers play with his coat sleeve.

“Where we had our first date?” You nod, biting your lip. “And here I thought I'm the romantic one.”

“Just trying to one up you, Parker.” Giggling, you tie his scarf nicely, noticing that it's in the same shade as yours. He watches you with shining eyes, hands already on your waist. “We can stop by the same coffee stand, and get pretzels after. Only if you want to.”

“You could tell me we're going on a trip to the raft and I'll still say yes.”

You pat his chest with both palms, and he resists the urge to kiss you breathlessly in the small apartment hallway. “The raft? I don't think they let civilians have tours there. Why, you got friends there?” You joke.

“They should,” he chuckles out, not even completing his own joke. “There's probably good money in there— they actually shouldn't. That— that would be horrible.” He cracks, cringing at his attempt at a joke. His head falls on your shoulder as you laugh and hold the back of his neck. “Sorry, just…nervous.”

“Why? It's just me.” You mumble against his temple, lips brushing along his warm skin.

“I know! That's why.” Lifting his head up, Peter lets out a groan. “I just want it to be perfect. It's for you and you deserve perfection.”

“Oh,” cradling his face, you pout at his pout, while your index tucks a hair strand away from his face. “This…” You tap your foot on the wooden floorboards. “This is already perfect, Peter. Anywhere with you is perfect for me. Whether we're shitting on a terrible movie or out and about around the city, it's perfect.”

Peter sighs, wondering what he did in his past life to have this kind of life. “So you don't want your gift?”

You blow raspberries, rolling your eyes as your arms loop over his neck. “Of course I want my gift.”

Chuckling, Peter pulls you in by your scarf, careful of his own strength and kisses you right on his doorstep.

—

You made Peter wait on a bench while you buy a couple of hot steaming cups of mediocre coffee. He watches your back as snow slowly drifts down in tiny specks of snowflakes. You chuckle at something the old vendor said, and he smiles at how your smile lights up the whole park.

As he waits, he shifts in his seat. The spandex inside his clothes are uncomfortable as it clings to his skin. He knows he can't really leave his alter ego behind, but not even crime has holidays off. Sometimes he wishes it does though.

“Hey,” you beam at him, handing him a styrofoam cup. “Drink it quickly before it freezes.” Shivering, smoke billows out from your lips as you breathe.

Peter mirrors your smile, taking the cup from you as he pats the space next to him for you. He even wiped away the snow just for you.

“Thanks, gorgeous.”

“You're welcome, handsome.” Nudging his shoulder, you watch him drink over the rim of your cup as you take a hearty sip.

“What?” He notices your eyes on him, making him scooch closer to you. “Something on my handsome face?”

“And here I thought you're perceptive.”

Peter knits his brows together while you move your eyes down to his cup. He follows your line of sight, finding your unmistakable handwriting on the cup. His guffaw echoes out in the park, bouncing around the white powdery snow.

“It's a riddle.” He excitedly says, tone higher than usual. “With a warm cup you take a sip, but here I am cold as a statue on a winter’s day.” Making a face, he turns to you. “Is this your way of saying that you're freezing, babe?”

You take his cheek, leaving a kiss mark on the other after pressing a chaste kiss that has his legs wobbly. Good thing he's sitting down.

“Genius, it's for the next destination.”

“You—” he blinks, shock and awe evident on his face. “It's a treasure hunt?” Placing the cup on the bench, he twists in his seat and grasps at your cheeks, squishing it together. “Have I told you that I love you?”

“Numerous times before but I'd love to hear it again.” You say, muffled as he puckers your lips together, lips that he leaves an affectionate kiss on that lingers for a moment. Smiling and giggling, he places his arm around your shoulder. “So what's your answer?”

“Easy, the museum. It's where we bumped into each other after not seeing each other since graduation.”

You pat his chest for a job well done. “Correct, and here I thought I made it vague enough.”

“Please, I—” his senses go off as a resounding crash can be heard a few miles away.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I…” he sighs, defeated. “Would it be an asshole move if I leave right now?”

“Call of nature or…” you change your tone into a whisper. “... Spider-Man duties? Either way, not an asshole move.”

“The latter, babe.” Peter's shoulders slumps visibly. “I'll be back I promise.”

You nod, understanding completely. “I'll wait for you at the museum, okay?” Before he reluctantly stands up, you grasp his wrist. “Be careful please.”

With one last kiss on your temple, he rushes out of the park.

—

“Shit, shit, shit!” Peter bolts out of an alleyway and into a busy street, dodging cars and trucks while his shoe laces are still undone. “Fuck.” Almost slipping on a sheet of ice, he finally sees you beneath a lion statue in front of the museum. He expertly balances himself as snow crunches underfoot.

Your scrunched up face lights up when you see him. Waving him over, he runs to you, arms wrapping around you as he crashes against your form. His hands brace your back from smacking on the statue.

He heaves atop the crook of your neck, lashes fluttering close as he breathes you in. “I made it.”

Wrapping him in your arms, you hold him close. “You did. Are you okay? Nothing damaged?”

Peter lifts his head up as he fixes the scarf on your neck. “I'm fine,” he exhales deeply, now smiling through the ache on his ankle. “Barely broke a sweat.”

You sigh in relief. “Thank goodness.” Fixing his coat collar that his red suit peeks underneath from, you grin up at him. “If you're too tired we can go home.”

“And miss the treasure hunt? No way.” Reaching over you, he plucks a hefty gift box from the stone lion's mouth. “Besides, the presents might get stolen.”

Biting your lip, you watch as he shakes the present. “Open it before I burst a nervous vein.”

Peter chuckles, giving you a quick peck on your cheek before carefully unwrapping the gift. “You little shit.” His eyes are wide and a grin plays on his lips.

“I know, I'm good.”

He takes out the book from the box, revealing a first edition of the hobbit book. “Where in the hell did you get this?”

“I know a guy.” You shrug.

“It's Ned, right?”

“Yeah, it's Ned. I had to pry it off his hands after he found it for me.”

Opening his arms for a hug, you immediately place yourself in between, embracing him back as you lay your head on his clavicle. He kisses the top of your head with a resounding smack.

“Thank you, this is amazing.” He squeezes you. “You're amazing.”

“No, you are, Pete.” You peek over his arms, gazing at him with softness in your eyes. “I heard you saved a bunch of people on the subway.”

“I'm the latest gossip now?” Smiling, he pecks the tip of your nose.

“Yeah, the talk of the town.” Poking his side, earning a chuckle from him, you kiss his chin before reluctantly letting go lest you get a ticket for PDA. “Check page 164.”

Peter laughs, akin to a giggle as he opens the book to the page. He finds a pink sticky note with doodles of him and you in full tolkien regalia. Right next to it Is the next clue.

“Where boundless knowledge lies but where love most thrives.” He reads aloud, heart feeling like it's beating out of his chest. “It's our highschool.”

“Mm-hmm,” you hum, hand wrapped around his scarf as you play with the frayed edges. “I thought it would be fun to go where it all started.”

“Where the pining started?” He teases, taking your hand to hold it instead, letting his warmth soothe you.

“Yes, where the pining started.” You giggle as he embraces you again, swaying you to the imaginary music and the sounds of the city. “I love you, Pete, ever since the day I accidentally knocked off your glasses after you protected me from Flash. And way before I knew my eighth grade crush wasn't just a crush.”

Peter feels like he's about to burst into tears right in the middle of a busy New York street.

“I—” before he could say all the sweet words that have been in his chest since you punched Flash on his smug face, numerous sirens go off as police cars and fire trucks dash further into downtown. Once again, his senses go off. “Shit.” He turns to you and you're already nodding at him.

“Go, I'll meet you there.”

“I'm so sorry.” Peppers your face with kisses until you're smiling again. “I really am, I— I love you too, so much and I'll tell you some Shakespearean shit later but I have to do this first, okay?”

Chuckling, you kiss his calloused knuckles before he sprints off. You could only hope that he's going to be okay as you hold the book against your chest.

—

The cold nips at the tip of your nose as you wait outside by the old school. Snow gathers near your feet as the temperature drops down further into the negatives, teeth chattering cold. Shivering, you tuck yourself into the awning by the window, coat bundled up and tightening the scarf around your neck. You'd come inside the school but it's closed and even if it is open, it would probably be trespassing since you graduated years ago.

Trembling, you check your watch. As the hand ticks by, you feel icicles forming in your lashes. You're debating whether you should go home or not since you've been waiting for more than an hour now. But you can't do that to Peter. It'll break his heart if he doesn't see you in the meeting place. Why did it have to snow in New York after three years of not having any?

As you kick snow and watch it roll away, you hear your name getting called from above.

Peter, still in his Spider-Man suit, swings quickly towards you. His red and blue form landing down on the soft snow expertly.

“Oh fuck, I'm so sorry!” He jogs towards you, hugging you as he feels how cold and stiff you are. Rubbing your arms and back, he desperately tries to warm you up. “I'm sorry, god, you're frozen.”

“S–Still P–Pretty though, right?” You give him a small smile as you tremble through your words.

“Yes, still gorgeous.” He says with urgency. “I need to warm you up, okay?”

“R–Right here? That's i–illegal, Pete.” Despite the impending frostbite, you still manage to crack a joke.

Peter holds your face, palms warming you up. Smiling apologetically, he holds you close. “I'm going to get you home, we'll have hot cocoa and watch shitty television.”

“How— what about your gift?”

“Babe, you're a popsicle right now. I'll get it later, I promise.” He says as he lifts you up and readies to swing away.

“I–I have it.” You whisper, smoke billowing out from your dry lips. “Good t–thing this is the last one.” Patting your front coat pocket, you beam at him as he bundles you in his arm.

“I'll open it later,” your brows knit together. “I promise, after you get warm I'll open it immediately.”

You nod and he swings away quickly like he's after the Vulture himself.

—

“I was supposed to leave it on top of the flagpole for you.” You murmur against his stomach as you lay on his lap, all bundled up in blankets and warm clothes as the portable heater whirrs in the background.

“And how would you do that, hm?” He lowers the volume to the TV as his hands rub along your arm.

“I know a guy.”

“Yeah, me, I'm the guy.” He rolls his eyes, feigning annoyance. “Do you want more hot chocolate?”

“No, thank you. I want you to stay.” You shake your head, nuzzling his stomach lovingly.

“Okay.” Chuckling, you can feel that he's holding onto something in his genius head of his. “I’m sorry that our date didn't go as planned.” Laying his head on the top of the couch, he gazes down at you with love. “I promise you I rescheduled the reservation for next week. Then we can continue Valentine's day.” He sighs, clearly guilty. “Even if it's done already, we can— we can continue it, right?”

“Valentine's day part two.” You wiggle your hands behind his back, embracing him in an awkward angle but with affection nonetheless. “You really don't have to worry, Pete, I had fun doing all the riddles. And I knew that something like this could happen so I only made three.”

“How many were you originally planning?”

“Fifteen.” His eyes widened. “Maybe for next year, babe.” Biting your lip, you reach up to hold his cheek, reassuring him more. “Did you like them?”

Peter wiggles the simple silver bracelet on his wrist as he eyes the book on the coffee table. “I loved it all, thank you. The initials engraved on it was a cute touch.”

“Really? I thought it would be too much.”

“You're never too much.” He softly says, thumb brushing along your cheekbone. “Please tell me when I make you unhappy.”

“I will, but I don't think you can ever make me feel unhappy. Not on purpose anyway.”

“That's impossible.”

You shake your head as you gently push his head down towards you. Peter lets you, noses bumping against one another. “I've known you since we were eating glue, trust me, I know, Peter.”

“So you're happy?” You nod, brushing your lips on top of his, a clear invitation for him to kiss you. “I didn't even get you flowers. I was supposed to, and chocolates and open the door for you and order dessert that's too expensive. Shit, we were supposed to go ice skating— and, I'll make it up to you, I promise.”

“You can buy me flowers and chocolates and do all that on Valentine's day part two.”

Peter finally kisses you, silently promising to give you that and more.

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[damnfeelings09]

VALENTINE'S DAY COUNTDOWN

You're in love - Leon S. Kennedy x fem reader

Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x female reader Tags: fluff, comfort, love, love, love, stablished relationship, memories, cheesy stuff. Word count: Prompt: you and Leon have been together for 10 years, yet every day still feels like the first. One day while Leon’s not home you find your old diary and find yourself reliving your love story. Notes: The tears/shivers/emotions I felt while writing this I can't compare to anything. I loved this one so much I'm totally writting one for Shadow just like this. It makes me very happy to be able to express my feelings and “relive” them even if only in this way, hopefully someday I and everyone will find a person who loves us just like in the books, until then I will keep pouring my heart in my writing.

The summer heat was present in your home. The sunlight reflected colorful flashes as they hit the window. The floor was littered with boxes, some marked with “fragile” others with “Leon stuff” but your attention was on the box with your name on it. In it you had found your childhood stuffed animal, pictures of your family, a few unused stickers and an old notebook. You recognized it perfectly, there was no way you could forget that beautiful blue notebook with green hearts that had been with you for so long. Having a diary sounded childish, but for you it was important to keep your memories somewhere safe and if you ever wanted to relive them you could do it. For more than half an hour you had been rereading all your witticisms, the stale jokes you made with yourself, the desires and goals you had set for yourself when you got to college. Almost halfway through the journal you found a sheet of paper with your name and Leon's name on it with a big heart around it. Of course you knew where that drawing was from, you had drawn it the first time you had seen Leon, turning the page you found the entry for that day:

02/02/1998

The University of Illinois is really nice! I am so excited to leave for the summer. Mom says she's not ready for me to leave home but she's secretly happy for me. We visited some stores, museums, but the best part of the trip was going to the Italian restaurant Olio e Piú. Our waiter was sooooo cute. His name is Leon Scott Kennedy, he is 21 years old and just finished the police academy, he said that being a waiter was only temporary while he was waiting for the draft to know where he would be sent. I almost fell out of my chair when I saw that on the bill was his number written. Of course I didn't waste a second and sent him a message on my way out of the restaurant. We are still here for 3 more days and he offered to show me around. I don't want to sound urgent but I think Ms. Kennedy sounds great.

You chuckled. Back then you were so love-struck and dreamy. Your younger self had so much faith in life, wanting to take it in hand, and besides, you were right about one thing, Ms. Kennedy sounded so good in you. You kept turning the pages until you found an important date, once again a heart adorned the page, this time only with Leon's name.

25/04/1998

I'm on my way to Ilinois again, I know, I know, you'll say I'm crazy, that we're going too fast because we've actually only been on 2 dates, but Leon and I text to each other every day. He understands me, laughs at my witticisms and I love his dad jokes. It may be soon but I would love for it to be him. I had to lie to my parents that I would be staying with my Aunt Sarah for the next 10 days, actually I will be staying with Leon, don't judge me, Aunt Sarah was the one who insisted on covering for me. I am very excited, Leon will pick me up at the bus station and take me to a special place. I'll tell you later how it went.

12:45 am

He asked me to be his girlfriend! There were candles, roses, strawberries and stars. I couldn't ask for anything more. I think I am in love with him.

At that moment you didn't really know what it meant to be in love, it wasn't just the butterflies fluttering in your stomach, it wasn't just the happiness of having him close to you or the excitement you felt every time you kissed him. Love was something very complicated to understand, even more to explain. It was like an invisible force that attracted you to him, altering all your senses, making you addicted to that feeling, excited, but at the same time it managed to keep the other emotions at bay, you felt protected, comfortable, whole.

11/29/1998

We had a fight. Leon told me he had to report to his new job in Raccon City, today! Today of all days. He knew how important it was to me that he come to this party with me and he didn't care. Right now he must be on his way or whatever. Idiot

06/29/2001

Leon is working. It’s almost been a year since the last time we saw each other and I don't know how long I can go on enduring it. It is unfair that all this has happened, stupid pharmaceuticals and their greed. If it wasn't for them we would be together now living in an apartment in Raccon City. I feel bad, I miss him so much, I miss his kisses and his kind smile, but I can't tell him. The last time I saw him his expression had changed, his eyes didn't look friendly anymore, they turned cold, he looked calculating, as if he was waiting for something to happen. I can't judge him, he has been through a lot, only the gods know how he is still in one piece after the massacre he lived through. I'm happy he's still with me, but I keep wondering if he's still the same Leon I fell in love with.

The Raccon City incident had changed the jovial, awkward, fun-loving Leon into a distant, apathetic, dry one. He had confided in you all that had happened, or at least a little more than the government had allowed him to say. He had cried in your shoulder lamenting for those people he had been unable to save, trying to justify his every action as self-defense. You had listened to him, wiped away his tears, stroked his back as he let it all out. You had shown him that no matter what had happened you loved him unconditionally, you had even encouraged him to take the job offered to him by the U.S. government assuring him that you would wait for him and you did.

11/11/2004

He came back. Three days ago, as I opened the door to take out the garbage, Leon was there, with his travel bag in hand and a bandage covering half of his right shoulder. I know he said he would, but part of me didn't believe it. The state he's in, gods, you don't know how I regret encouraging him take this job. Sometimes he wakes up screaming babbling about “the plagues”, when that happens he reaches for my chest, lies on me and holds his ear close to my heart, he says it calms him. I'm just glad he's back home with me, I don't know how or how long it will take but I'll help him put all his pieces back together, I love him, I can't stand seeing him like this.

When he left for spain, the fear of not knowing anything about his where abouts for almost a month was unbearable, then one day he shows up on your door. Beaten, bruised, tired, haggard and thinner than the last time you saw him, but alive, yes a few cuts and his shoulder bandaged but he was there. You couldn't help but run into his arms, he catches you in the air, and then both fell to the grass as you filled his face with kisses. The following days you took care of him, his nightmares were recurrent but your touch always managed to bring him back to the real world. The necklace you had given him before he left, a locket with his favorite picture of you and the phrase “Love, always” engraved on it, always in place, just like you did with yours, a small reminder of the love between you two.

05/06/2006

I said yes.

I can't believe it really happened. Seven years ago I dreamed it as I watched him clean the tables and today that dream came true. I know we are not perfect, I know Leon's line of work will keep him away from me more than I would like to, but I can't imagine my life with anyone else. I chose him long before I knew what would happen and even if I did back then I would do it all over again.

Leon recreated our first date, rented a cabin in Georgia, brought a blanket, a basket with candles, wine, glasses and strawberries. We sat under the stars and when I least expected it he got down on one knee in front of me, told me that I was the woman of his dreams, that he couldn't live without me even if he tried, that I was the only good thing in his crappy world, that all he thought about when he fought those B.O.W's was that he was making the world a little safer for me and that it didn't matter how many zombies he had to take down as long as he came home to me.

Of course I said yes. No matter what, he's the one.

You closed the diary, hugging it tightly, trying to push those memories into your heart again. Yes, things had been difficult, complex, sometimes the cost had been high, the tears, the anger and the loneliness had been more constant than you wanted to admit, but you wouldn't change any of it because somehow, the little piece of heaven seeing Leon's smile every time he came home, his scent enveloping your senses as he took you in his arms, was enough.

The sound of the door opening brought you back to reality.

“Hey honey, what you doing?” Leon said, putting down the bags he was carrying in his hands and walking towards you “I see someone got distracted and forgot to unpack” he laughed kissing you.

“You've no idea” you smiled intertwining your hands behind his neck, kissing him once more.

[ghostmoon1]

One Night Alpha

Part One - Part Two

Ghost x Soap - Omegaverse - Non-Military AU - Smut 18+

Word Count : 1.9k

Summary : Johnny is an omega, and so far he's been okay without an alpha. But after one overwhelming visit to his regular cafe and the strong scent of an alpha, he finds himself craving that touch.

A/N : Woah guys, I finally had the time to finish the first part! I'll try and finish the rest of this quickly, but I've been so busy. But I hope you guys enjoy this spicey lil fic (Almost every part will contain smut, shes a spicey one)

CW : A/B/O dynamics, smut 18+, masturbation, mention of hook-up, heat cycle hinting/mention. Tags are for each chapter

The smell was overwhelming, especially for an omega. The strong pheromones of alpha filled his nose, his brain trying not to blank from the strong scent. He tried focusing on the scents of coffee, tea and sweet pastries instead. He was always grateful for the majority that used scent blockers, it was common courtesy to do so, although it was less common for betas. Their scent was often calming, a touch of sweetness but not overwhelming. Not enough to become sickenly sweet.

He tried finding a beta’s scent to latch on to, a calming smell to tear his mind away from the mix of alpha and omega. Another omegas scent didn't affect him as much, but there were a few with overly sweet scents, or when they were nearing their heat. Even that could overwhelm a fellow omega. 

He took a few stumbling steps forward, his hand coming up to cover his scent gland. He could smell the slightly sour scent coming off him, the nervousness from being around so many different scents. It wasn’t ideal.

The beta at the counter was around his age, her hair tied up in a messy bun and an apron tied around her waist. He breathed in the soft scent of her, lavender filling his nose. Something to lock onto in this horrible environment.

“Hey Hun, what can I get for ya’?” she asks sweetly, her manicured hands ready to put his order through. 

He fumbles for his wallet as he gives her his order. “Aye…just my usual-” he mutters, fumbling for the cash and handing it to her. Without grabbing his change, he quickly ducks to the side as he waits for his order to be prepared. He fidgets with the hem of his shirt as he waits, soft yet worn out between his fingers.

He watches closely as one of the baristas makes his order, steady hands pouring the coffee into the cup and writing a small message on the side. He came here often, but it was usually nowhere near as busy as this. They were trying a new menu, and perhaps one too many had heard about it, everyone from the city coming to try out the new flavours. He didn’t want to change his regular place, he couldn't bear the thought of not being a loyal customer anymore. He did enjoy the occasional free pastry that they gave him, wrapped in a small paper bag with a little smile and a nice note written. 

“Johnny, you’re coffee!” a small woman says happily as she passes his coffee over the counter. Her smile was bright, lips curved up and dimples on full display. “Just how you like it,” she continues proudly, watching as he takes it and has his first sip.

He groans softly, a small smile playing on his lips. “Perfect as always, lass.” his eyes trail down to today's little note, a small flower and heart scribbled on the side along with a little note, ‘Remember to smile! We love that smile :) ‘

That little note made his current smile wider. “Cheers, lass. Have a nice one, aye?” he replies. Before he could turn to leave, another barista was handing out another order. he didn't have the chance to even move, the broad chest of someone else against his back, and an overwhelming scent of alpha hitting him, almost making him drop his coffee.

The scent hits him hard, his legs almost giving out. It was insanely strong, the deep smell of alpha mixed with the scents of oak and whiskey. The alpha’s breath hit his scent gland along his neck as they leaned in to collect their order, sending a tingling sensation down his spine that reached his cock, groaning softly as that feeling swelled into an intense heat pooling in his stomach. He scrunched his eyes shut as he tried to fight the sudden feelings swirling in his stomach. 

“Sorry mate, just getting this,” a gruff yet kind voice vibrates along his skin, sending another wave of shivers down his spine. He almost drops to the floor as a large, strong hand comes up to rest on his side, trying to ground him and steady the large alpha above him.

It was over as soon as it started, the alpha quickly retreating with his drink and leaving Johnny a flushed mess. He lets himself recover, taking a deep breath and taking a step back, praying that the warmth that flushed over his face wasn't visible right now. As he takes in another deep breath, he gets a whiff of a sickly sweet scent, then notices the few heads turned in his direction. That scent was him.

Shit.

He was quick to rush out of the cafe, slightly regretting not being able to say bye to the kind baristas properly. But in his current situation, he didn’t want to stay in there any longer than he had to, not when he was pouring out the sweetest scent in the whole shop.

He rushes to his car, slamming the door shut and exhaling deeply as he lets himself relax into the seat, the car seat hugging his back and thighs in a slight attempt of comfort and familiarity.

He lets out a small huff, scrunching his eyes shut and trying to think of anything other than the warmth pooling between his legs. How his car broke down the other week and the money he spent on that, when he got his sleeves wet of his favourite hoodie, when he kicked his toe, anything at all.

He mutters to himself under his breath as nothing works, the strong scent of alpha still staining his nose, not going away after each breath. The strong scent was infiltrating him, he could feel the back of his neck tingling as he struggled against it, and how all the heat suddenly flushing his body went straight to his prick.

He let out a soft sigh as he palms himself through his trousers, desperate to lose some of the sensitivity. But it only heightens it. He curses under his breath, deciding the best thing he could do right now was go home.

The drive back to his apartment was painful and long, the dull throbbing in his groin and the strain against his pants becoming an unbearable feeling. He fumbled with his keys, the cold metal slipping through his fingers as he cursed at them for doing this at such a horrible time. He had tried his hardest to avoid everyone when coming up to his apartment, giving another alpha the elevator to himself and waiting to get into one alone. It would have been quite hard to hide the raging boner straining against his pants currently.

When he hears the lock click, he barges inside and slams the door shut behind him. He finds his way into his bedroom, flopping onto the bed and freeing himself from the confines of his trousers. They felt like they were trying to suffocate him, ripping them down his thighs and not even getting them all the way off before his hand was diving into his boxers, his skin burning with desire and lust.

A muffled whimper escapes his mouth as his hand wraps around the base of his cock, precum already dripping down his shaft. He couldn't help it. He felt hot and bothered; it was aching, and he needed relief. He felt a pang of guilt, jerking off to an alpha he hadn’t even met properly, but his smell lingered on his skin, it was leaking into his brain and filling all his senses.

He pumps it slowly, letting his finger drag along the thick vein underneath, his breaths coming out as pants and pathetic whines. His hips buck into his hand, desperate and needy like an omega in heat. He just couldn't get the alpha out of his mind, his wrong hand on his side, his warm breath against his glands, his broad back against his own. Fuck, he could only imagine what it’d feel like to be pinned under another alpha, whiny and desperate and begging to be bred. He starts to rut into his hand, panting and whining as the pleasure tingles up his spine, sweat beading along his forehead.

He knew he wasn't going to last long, although that wasn't his current goal. He just needed relief. He lets out a long, whiny groan and his balls draw up, and he erupts over his hands and stomach, whining softly as it only eases on some of the aches. He tries to rut into his hand again but whines from the oversensitivity. His breaths came out ragged as he lay there, slowly recovering and gaining his strength back. The feeling still ached, his mind racing with the smell of the alpha.

He groans as he forces himself to clean up, wiping the seed from his stomach. He huffs as he grabs his phone, still pent-up and irritated. He goes straight to his text messages, seeing a message from his friend Kyle from work. As he reads his words he groans, muttering something incoherent to himself.

‘You forgot to clean the glasses again Johnny.’

He wipes his hand over his face, feeling his stubble against his rough palm. Of course. He was so focused on everything else that he forgot one of the simplest things for his job.

‘Yeah, I’ll do all the cleaning for them tomorrow. Sorry bout that.’ he replies, watching the message turn to send, then read. He could never understand how he was always so quick to reply to his messages, was he always ready to pounce?

The text bubble pops up for a while, his eyes tracing the dots as they bounce. It took a few minutes before the next message popped up, one that he couldn't help but smile softly at.

‘What’s up? Something is bothering you.’

He chuckles to himself. He has always wondered how Kyle knew when something was up, no matter what it was he could tell. Johnny was always doing well at his job, not often distracted unless it was a hot alpha walking into the bar asking him directly for a scotch. That was something that made his mouth go a little dry. Although, he wasn’t entirely sure on what was bothering him. He just felt moody, easily distracted and for some reason more hungry than usual. His fingers hover above his screen for a moment before he replies, almost tempted to lie.

‘I’m just. Irritable, distracted ig. Pent up.’ he replies, his heart thudding in his chest as he tells his coworker something so personal. He trusted Kyle though, he’d find a way to help him one way or another.

There is a few minutes before he sees the text bubble pop up again and this time it makes his heart skip a beat. 

‘Well, if you need something, there’s this website. Give it a go, may help. Just don’t tell the boss I sent you it’ he reads, and a link follows. ‘One Night Alpha’ the link read, making Johnny’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. It was a site for hookups, and Kyle just sent him it. 

Kyle might just be a lifesaver.

[kiwriteswords]

oh oh i have a fluff v day request! maybe reader is jacks teacher and they have a class valentine’s day party, when hotch picks him up after school, jack is trying to set them up by planting one of those silly cartoon cards in either of their pockets 🤭

Matchmaker, Matchmaker, Make Me a Match [Aaron Hotchner x Teacher!Reader]

Ki2k Masterlist||MainMasterlist (not updated, sorry!)|| Ao3||Word Count: 1k|| AN: Happy Valentine's Day! Thank you for this request, lovely! I had so much fun writing it--I never usually write Jack-related fics, but when I do, I wonder why I don't more often because they're so sweet! ||Requests are still open for Ki2k!!

Tags/Warnings: female reader, Valentine’s Day, non-bau!Reader, teacher!reader, Jack's teacher!Reader, Jack Hotchner is present (for those who do not like kid fics, lol), sadly had to use Y/N Y/L/N :P--sorrry!!!

Summary: Jack comes home beaming about his pretty teacher to Hotch everyday, so when Valentine's comes around, he finds the perfect reason to get the two of them together.

Jack's little feet pounded on the pavement as he bounded towards the car where Hotch was waiting, his face lit up with the day's excitements. Throwing open the car door, he barely waited for the buckle to click before he started.

"Dad! Did I tell you what Miss. Y/L/N did today? She showed us how to make volcanoes with baking soda and vinegar! It was awesome!"

Hotch smiled, driving off as he listened. "Sounds like you had fun. Miss. Y/L/N seems very creative."

"She is!" Jack's voice was earnest, eyes wide. "And she's really pretty, too. She wears these nice dresses, and her hair is always perfect."

Hotch raised an eyebrow, a small chuckle escaping him. "Is that so?"

"Yeah! And she's super smart. She knows everything about science and books and... um, maybe you should ask her about the Civil War? You like that stuff, right?" Jack's attempt at casualness was comically transparent.

"I do," Hotch replied, his interest piqued both by the mention of history and the subtle undertone of matchmaking in his son's voice. "Sounds like you think she'd be good company."

Jack nodded vigorously. "She'd be the best! You always say you want someone smart and kind. And she's the best teacher ever. Everyone thinks so."

As they pulled into their driveway, Hotch ruffled Jack's hair, considering the little seeds his son was planting. "Maybe I'll have to meet Miss. Y/L/N at the next parent-teacher conference."

"Yeah! And maybe you can ask her about her favorite book or something," Jack added, hopeful.

Hotch laughed softly, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement at his son's not-so-subtle matchmaking. "Maybe I will, buddy."

Jack grinned, satisfied, his mission for the day accomplished.

The next time Jack came bursting into the car after school, his backpack swinging wildly as he clambered into the passenger seat.

"Dad!" He held up a piece of folded paper, waving it excitedly. "Miss. Y/L/N gave you a note!"

Hotch glanced over as he pulled away from the school parking lot, one hand steady on the wheel. "Oh? What’s it about?"

Jack grinned like he was holding the world's greatest secret. "I think she likes you."

Hotch blinked. "What?"

Jack wiggled in his seat, practically vibrating with excitement. "She sent you a note! Teachers don’t just send notes unless it’s important. And I heard my friend Olivia say that when someone writes you a note, it’s because they like you."

Suppressing a laugh, Hotch reached for the paper at a red light, unfolding it with careful fingers. His eyes skimmed over the words--just a standard, typed letter about an upcoming parent-teacher night and some classroom updates.

"Jack," he said, amusement coloring his voice, "this is just a general note. Every parent got one."

Jack frowned, his enthusiasm faltering for the first time. "Oh." He thought for a second, then brightened again. "But maybe she really wanted you to see it!"

Hotch sighed, shaking his head with a small smile. "I’m sure Miss. Y/L/N is a wonderful teacher, but she’s just doing her job. It’s not a secret message, buddy."

Jack crossed his arms, unconvinced. "I don’t know…she does walk me to pick-up.” 

"Because she walks all the students to parent pick-up," Hotch countered. 

Jack sat in contemplative silence for a few moments before mumbling, "Still think you’d be a good couple."

Hotch chuckled. "Noted."

The school hallways were quieter than usual, the loud bustle of daytime replaced by a hushed, anticipatory energy as parents trickled in for the evening's parent-teacher conferences. Hotch adjusted his tie as he approached your classroom, Jack's enthusiastic endorsements echoing in his mind.

He paused at the doorway, spotting you as you animatedly discussed a student's progress with a couple before him. Even from a distance, your passion was palpable, your gestures animated and your smile bright. When it was finally his turn, you looked up, recognition and warmth lighting up your features.

"Mr. Hotchner, it's great to finally meet you," you greeted, extending a hand. "Jack speaks so highly of you."

"The feeling is mutual," Hotch replied, taking your hand. "He hasn’t stopped talking about you since school started."

As you both sat down, the conversation flowed effortlessly. You shared insights about Jack's strengths and areas for improvement, your words thoughtful and encouraging. Hotch was struck not only by your understanding of his son but also by your genuine care for all your students.

"I strive to create an environment where they can all feel supported and challenged," you explained, your eyes lighting up with a fervor that resonated deeply with Hotch. It was clear teaching was not just a job for you but a calling.

The conversation shifted from academic achievements to personal interests, and Hotch found himself discussing topics he rarely explored with strangers. Your interest in classical literature and your hobbies sparked a shared enthusiasm. Hotch was pleasantly surprised by how much he enjoyed talking about his own rare escapes.

which he seldom shared due to his demanding job.

As the meeting concluded, Hotch stood up, feeling an unexpected reluctance to end the conversation. "Thank you for everything you’re doing for Jack," he said sincerely. "And not just for him--for all the kids."

"It’s truly my pleasure," you replied with a smile. "They make it easy."

There was a brief pause, a moment of shared understanding, and an unspoken acknowledgment of a connection neither expected.

"If you ever need help with any class activities or if you organize any field trips," Hotch added on impulse, "I’d be happy to contribute."

Your smile widened, pleased and surprised. "I'll definitely take you up on that."

As Hotch walked away, he couldn’t shake the warmth that filled his chest. Jack might have had childlike motives for wanting him to meet you, but Hotch couldn’t deny the genuine interest he felt--a spark ignited, perhaps, by the passion and beauty you exuded, both inside and out.

The door clicked shut behind Hotch, and the familiar sound of home was a welcome relief after the draining hours of a difficult case. As he shrugged off his coat, the sight that greeted him was anything but the quiet he had expected. 

Jack was in the midst of chaos, surrounded by a whirlwind of craft supplies--glue sticks, construction paper, crayons--all spread out like a tornado had swept through their living room.

Jack had just begun staying home for short periods of time by himself--something Hotch didn’t take lightly, but this was not a sight that he ever expected to see. 

"Jack, what's going on?" Hotch aske, his tone a mixture of amusement and concern as he stepped carefully over a stray roll of tape.

"Dad!" Jack looked up, his expression frantic but determined. "I need to make the perfect Valentine's card, but nothing looks right!"

Hotch knelt down, picking up a half-finished card that was more glue than paper. "Isn’t tomorrow just the school Valentine's party? What about the box of cartoon Valentines we bought last week?"

Jack shook his head vigorously, sending his hair into disarray. "Those are for my classmates! This one has to be special--it’s for Miss. Y/L/N. I want it to be perfect because I want her to come over for dinner and have a romance like in the movies. Like the Disney ones!" His eyes shone with the earnestness only a child could muster. "And you have the right hair to be like Prince Charming!"

Hotch couldn’t help but laugh softly, touched by his son's intentions yet aware of the need to tread carefully. "Jack, it’s very sweet that you want to do this for Miss. Y/L/N, but inviting her over for dinner and trying to set up a romance--that’s something she and I would have to talk about. It's not on you to worry about."

"But Dad, I just want you to be happy, and Miss. Y/L/N could make you smile," Jack protested, his lower lip trembling just a bit.

Sitting down beside his son, Hotch put an arm around him, pulling him close. "I know, buddy, and that means a lot to me. It’s okay to make her a card, but we should keep it about thanking her for being a great teacher, okay? As for dinner, how about we invite her over as a thank you from both of us, just to enjoy a meal, not as a date? We can see where things go from there."

Jack seemed to consider this for a moment before nodding, a small smile creeping back onto his face. "Can we still make it the best card ever?"

"Absolutely," Hotch agreed, his heart lightening at his son’s quick recovery. "Let’s see what we can create with less glue this time."

Together, they spent the evening crafting a more modest but heartfelt Valentine's card, Hotch guiding Jack’s enthusiastic efforts. As they worked, Hotch couldn’t help but think about your reaction, the warmth of your smile in his mind giving him more hope than he wanted to admit. 

Maybe Jack’s little plan wasn’t so far-fetched after all, just premature. As they set the finished card aside to dry, Hotch found himself looking forward to handing it over, curious and slightly hopeful about where a simple dinner invitation might lead.

Valentine's Day had brought its usual flurry of excitement, and amidst it, Hotch received an email that made him pause. It was from you, thanking him for the generous card and his contributions to the classroom Valentine's Day party. Reading between the lines, Hotch assumed it was also a nod to the dinner invitation Jack had ambitiously included. Buttoning his coat, he headed to the school, curious and admittedly a bit nervous about the meeting.

As he entered the classroom, the scene was vibrant with kids laughing and trading candies and cards. Jack spotted him immediately and with a grin wide enough to split his face, dashed over and grabbed his hand, tugging him through the clusters of giggling children.

"There’s my dad!" Jack announced proudly, pulling Hotch towards you.

You laughed as Jack nearly yanked Hotch off his feet. "Easy there, Jack, don’t break your dad’s arm off!"

Jack paused, gave Hotch a comically exaggerated wink, and said, "I’ll leave the romance to you two--it is Valentine’s Day, after all!"

You chuckled, shaking your head at Jack's antics. "Hotch, you’ve raised quite the little charmer."

Hotch, a bit flushed but smiling, replied, "I’m not sure where he gets that from. I’m currently at a loss for words.

"That’s alright," you said with a gentle smile. "I don’t mind coming up with the words, as long as that dinner is still on the table."

"It definitely is," Hotch assured you, his tone warm and more confident.

From the corner of his eye, Hotch saw Jack giving a not-so-subtle thumbs up before darting off to join his friends, leaving Hotch and you to chat amidst the joyful chaos of the classroom party.

As the children continued their celebrations around you, the two of you discussed logistics for the dinner, the conversation easy and flowing naturally. It was clear that what started as a child’s innocent matchmaking might just turn into something truly special, much to Jack's delight--and perhaps to his credit.

[incorrect-rangers-quotes]

okay i got 20 tags in on a reblog of this before i thought i might as well bite the bullet and just write normal hahah. there are so many angles to look from here that i want to find and think about this later :)

someone in the tags said "he's calm when he wants to be" and i think that's pretty well-phrased. i personally would put it like this - halt is very level-headed when it comes to things like danger and combat and strategy, because when you do as much Danger and Combat and Strategy as rangers do, it's either you develop that, or you & the lads Get Deaded. i think that's mostly what's being referred to when he's described as calm and in control. he's a great presence to have when you're going into fight or flight because in terms of personal danger he hasn't panicked once in his life (exaggeration) and gets actively mad when someone's worried about him (not an exaggeration) LMAO. an anger outburst will rarely win you a fight.

op alluded to it already, but, you can also certainly have different amounts of patience when it comes to different things. halt especially, i think, is more prone to answering violence with violence no matter if it's proportionate or not than, i dunno, will? older crowley? pauline? diplomats are a far more emotionally adept authority i feel like. LOL. either way, yeah, sure, he can be patient, even in situations where he might deck someone otherwise, but i think to sympathize and thus be patient with you he's got to understand/relate to you. and obviously he's more likely to do that if he actively gives a shit about you, which he doesn't for most, so. Violent Tendencies.

i'll be honest my kneejerk reaction to the post was to joke about the fact that There Be Men Like That Sometimes, but really you can think about it that way! some of these things - corporal punishment, reacting to disrespect with violence, etc etc - aren't necessarily "i'm mad and not thinking about what i'm doing", they're just his normal responses that aren't always expressed angrily at all. it's just what he - read, people - do. it's what isn't necessarily universally accepted, but it is accepted by him and arguably the people around him.

to add; how much do you reckon there can be violence without anger? i don't think some of these were him running out of patience necessarily, or getting angry with Homicidal Flavour. i think halt is absolutely capable of looking at a situation, assessing it with a fairly neutral line of thought, and deciding that violence should be the answer. it's not a reaction, it's a response, if that makes sense. of course that doesn't mean he doesn't get angry, i'm sure he does plenty, but i feel like little of it is Uncontrolled violence. it's what he sees as Deserved violence, and let's admit there's seldom any punishment in it for him. iirc even his arguably Biggest L - the whole banishment thing, which was also exactly what he wanted out of the situation mind - wasn't over the threat of violence which was very much there, it was over calling duncan a daft wee piss cunt or whatever and it's illegal to be mean to the king. tragic.

and of course you, reading, can see the violence as uncalled for, or you can see the times he uses it as him being cruel. if that's your interpretation, then there's really not much going against it. i mean, it's my interpretation too, lmao. i think halt is a largely a hard and unpleasant man. it's just that we're seeing him from the perspectives of the people that mostly like him, so we get to see all the moments when he's patient, or kind, or loyal too. which makes for an overall rather nice character, if you're willing to get your hands a little dirty.

and, you know, childrens' literature and all. our faves can do a little prisoner slavery i guess. why not.

I've been thinking about this for a long time, but it's so fucking funny to me how Halt is the guy that everyone is like "yeah he can stay calm, he's always in control and has great patience when it comes to certain things, he's has great control over his emotions" but at the same time that guy has has bet up more than one teenage apprentice in the span of two books, thrown two guys out a window in the span of one book, made Will sleep outside in the cold, not even in the ground but in a fucking tree for singing a song and having a bit of whimsy in his life, threw a guy off his horse by putting his bowstring around his neck, knocking him out (and then wanted to punch him again when he woke up) for being a bit of a dick, and at one point in The Emporer of Nihon-Ja, Will was sure Halt was gonna deck a dude or something along those lines for knocking his hood back off his face. And thats just the stuff actually in the books, there's probably way more we don't know about.

I'm trying to think of any more shit he's done now.

It's just funny how he can apparently be the most calm and in control man but also get super easily pissed off and ready to kill in an instant at the same time.

[orangez3st]

The Stars in Your Eyes

Entry to @clonexocweek - 02.13.25: Intimacy | Event Masterlist

↤ Prev | Part 4 of 5 | Next ↦

Summary: Lesiil confesses her new dream. Fox confesses what he wants. Tags & Warnings: war criminal investigation is over, fluff, kisses, comfort no hurt, wholesome interaction, soft and awkward(ish) Fox, tease and banter still going strong, referenced clone rights Pairing: Fox x Det. Lesiil Thrace (OFC Crime Investigator) Word Count: 4.6k A/N: I introduce you AGAIN to a soft Fox because we have too much rough version of him already. Also because he can't even pretend to hate Lesiil (he's so bad when he's in love). Fox getting nice things for once – I will die on this hill. Thank you for enjoying their journey so far! This won't be the end 😉 we still have one more in the next part!

𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒇 𝒔𝒉𝒆'𝒔 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒆? 𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝒎𝒚 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕'𝒔 𝒘𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈.

— Dark Red - Steve Lacy [X]

Fox lets out a low whistle. “Well, well.”

His grin widens in amazement as soon as Lesiil turns around at his voice. In one secluded spot on the rooftop of Coruscant Guard Headquarters that faces the luminous skyline at night, Lesiil is seen leaning back against the durasteel railing, elbows propped up. By her feet are a portable heater that provides sufficient lighting in the little spot, and a cooler box with four bottles of beer. Fox has never seen her this relaxed, with untied curly hair and knitted cardigan swaying gently in the soft breeze.

She smiles warmly at him. “I suppose this is acceptable enough as alone time for both of us.”

Fox clips his helmet to his belt. “We already have a party downstairs.”

“Unless you come about here and join me, this will still be my escape from a sea of rowdy clones.”

He lets out a small laugh, the weight on his shoulders already lifting. Breathing in the night air, Fox lets his feet carry him across the short distance and joins her, standing a shoulder brush away.

“You know,” he starts, “We have nicer drinks Stone brought in.”

Lesiil rolls her eyes. “I would appreciate it more if you say your thanks to me instead of complaining about leaving the party. It is as if you regret coming over here at all. Do you?”

“I really don't,” he asserts, shaking his head, “I'll just be here.”

“Perfectly aligned with my intention then, sir,” she cheekily remarks, bending down to pick up two bottles and the opener, “And these are, after all,  nicer beers.”

Wordlessly, Fox does the job of opening both bottles. Knocking the lips of their bottles together, they drink. He lets out a small grunt in appreciation. Nicer beer, indeed.

Nice beer and lovely company.

Fox's troopers in their downtime have decided to throw a celebratory party to commemorate Jai Brando's incarceration with property damage charges, to more of Lesiil's emotional acquiescence. The actual trial won't be held until several more months, but it's more than enough to keep him off the streets and their patrol routine. Lesiil and his Nautolan partner are invited, the latter finding immediate comfort among his men while the lead investigator had escaped from the crowded mess hall. An invitation message to Fox's commlink from her had prompted him to find her, and now here he is.

Fox mimics her pose, leaning back with his elbows on the railing.

“Thorn's looking for you,” he says, his bottle dangling from his fingers.

Lesiil nods curtly. “Message accepted.”

The lack of words and immediate action only makes him confused. “You don't wanna find him now?”

With a slight tilt of the body, she faces him, her chin an inch away from his shoulder bell. “I have found who I’m looking for.”

No, of course he knows she doesn't see Thorn like that, and vice versa. His batchmate reminds her too much of her brother. it's just about the heat creeping up his neck and cheeks, even though it wasn't an intentional pickup line – there was too much intensity in her storm grey eyes, and that's the problem.

Fox clears his throat, and subtly inches closer to her. Finally, their shoulders touch, in which Lesiil puts more weight. He immediately chugs on his beer to sober up.

“You did great on the entire case,” he finds himself muttering, unable to bring himself to look at her again for a moment without having his heart thundering nervously inside his chest. 

“Thank you, sir.”

He nudges her softly. “Just the two of us now. It's Fox.”

“I know who your name is, Fox,” Lesiil says, finally placing her head on his shoulder. She sighs. “Habits die hard, I suppose.”

A lull in the moment. Then they simultaneously drink from their bottles.

Fox clicks his tongue, savoring the bitter and rich liquid. “Just feels kinda wrong for you to call me that,” he says, eyeing the curve of the bottle, “You're not in the Coruscant Guard anymore.”

“So?” Lesiil chirps beside him, still comfortably leaning against him. “You remain Marshal Commander. I am merely being mindful and respectful of who you are and where you stand in your institution.”

Always the courteous one. Colloquialism thrown out of the airlock as if she's born without it. It sends him chuckling, the voice coming from the depths of his chest and earning her amused look.

Fox meets her gaze. “Just call me by my name, will ya?”

“Why are you so insistent?” Lesiil challenges, “Do you like it so much when I call you, Fox?”

“I do prefer it that way, Detective.”

“Unfair,” she huffs, “Call me Lesiil.”

Fox smirks. “Alright, Lesii.”

He chugs from his bottle again before finally giving in and gently laying his head on top of hers. Lesiil draws a deep breath and snuggles closer for his warmth, not meeting his eyes. What the hell is the portable heater for then?

Lesiil's hair smells like sugar. Curiosity gets the best of him, and before he knows it he's already nuzzling his nose into her curls, finding comfort in her scents – a mixture of sweets, floral, and daylong musk. It surprises him, never thinking of the courteous detective to even use hair products of such scents. Maybe something neutral like pure soap, not some desserts sold in high-end shops and that one street where the Naboo flower festival usually takes place.

As if understanding him, Lesiil wordlessly shifts closer, practically putting half of her body in front of his and leaning back against the hardness of his plastoid armor. With the littlest joy he's got inside him, Fox loosely wraps an arm around her shoulders. He allows himself to press his lips on the crown of her head, while continuously rubbing her arm up and down to keep her warm in the Coruscanti night breeze.

Funny how the landscape of our first meeting was so similar to this, save for the intimate proximity.

Gunship arrived. Helmet upon his head. Her wrist on a sling. He'd called her Inspector.

Welcome to Coruscant Guard Headquarters.

Thank you, sir.

It was just last month. Now it feels like a long time ago. Him at that time wouldn't believe this very intimate moment. It's weird. Alien, even. Fox rarely gets to blow off some steam himself no thanks to piling senatorial work, let alone–

Let alone…

Falling in lo…

Let alone letting himself fall this far into an unavoidable prospect of romance, and Lesiil is relentless as kark to get what she wants once she knows what she's after.

Not that he wants to avoid it…

He grows soft around her since that day in her office. Shouting. Butting heads. Ideals and values clashing. Crying. Kriff, he made her cry. But he was only delivering what there is – the existing truth. She was only devastated because of her overlooking and eventually forgot the non-sentient laws. But still, he made her cry worse.

But at least he got to hold her to mend for it, managing to calm her down from loud hitches to silent whimpers and steady breaths, accompanying her on the couch until her beautiful bronze-toned face was no longer showing signs of breakdown.

It was a showdown of stubborn against stubborn.

Thorn was karking right. They're so similar.

He chugs again from his bottle, the bitter liquid washing down his unprepared melancholy.

“I am resigning.”

Fox blinks, thinking probably he misheard.

“Say that again?”

Lesiil pushes herself off him and turns around to face him. “I am resigning from CSF.”

He hadn't misheard. Shock and disbelief washes over him.

“But… why?” he protests, brows deeply pulling, “It’s what you love! You've got an excellent career, and you're probably another case away from actual promotion.”

“It's not about promotion.” Lesiil shakes her head, folding her arm on top of another, her bottle dangling by the fingers. “Investigative work is what I love, true. I love my work, I love what I do. I love my colleagues and the environment. I love the fact that it is addictive and perfect to stimulate and sharpen my high-functioning mind.” She looks away, picking on a thread in her cardigan. “But after the Corrie Butcher, after such a magnificent case… I can't bring myself to continue my fight on this side.”

“What do you mean?” Fox demands.

“I wish to fight on the other side,” Lesiil answers, then replacing her gaze back to him. “Your side.”

A scoff flies out of his lips.

“Yeah, we'll get ya shock trooper armor.”

“I do not mean that,” Lesiil rebuts gently.

“Then what?”

“You know this, Fox.”

No he doesn't.

Lesiil scrutinizes him, pushing him to find the answer himself. Her storm grey orbs are bearing down on him hard, fully expecting him to just know.

My side… Clones…

No.

Realization crashes down on him like a broken down speeder just as fear of the unknown envelops him, and he then resists the urge to groan. “You’re impossible.”

She points her bottle at him. “I find your lack of faith in me disturbing.”

“It's not that,” Fox debates sharply, “We don't know when the war’s gonna be over. What you're fighting for takes time, years, before it could even be passed on to the Senate.” He sighs heavily, his head hanging to his chest. “I don't even know what you're gonna do to end up in one of my escort duties one day.”

“Don't be silly with that senatorial escort duty logic of yours, of course I will not be working from the Senate,” Lesiil lets out a small laugh, “I already have the Prince Consort of Alderaan for that.”

She tilts her head down to meet his downward gaze with a beaming smile.

“I will continue my study in law,” she declares, and hearing that, pride suddenly blossoms throughout Fox's chest replacing all of his worries. “My alma mater has been offering me a fast-track master's program since forever thanks to my notoriety, and I’m taking that chance now. Then, I will be pulling my strings.”

Fox scoffs mid-swig. “Yeah? How high up are these strings?”

“Why, Senator Organa himself, of course. Do you know the Queen is a big admirer of my work? I am practically their pride and joy.”

“Alright, Alderaan’s Pride and Joy, I see your point,” Fox chuckles fondly, before turning serious once more. “But it's still a long game to play. You'll have to play smart, Lesii.”

Lesiil nods her head thoughtfully. “No matter how long it is, I will push on through,” she mulls, shifting her weight between her feet. “This is the least I can do for Railuu… and for all of you.”

“Why?” Fox blurts out, “I know you're doing this for your twin, but… personally, why?”

“You all matter,” she answers in a beat without an ounce of hesitation. Even in the low setting of the portable light and under the dark night of Coruscant, Fox can even see determination sparking in her storm grey eyes. “You deserve the good. You deserve to live like natborns. You deserve your rights as equals to natborns. You are sentient. You have mind, you have sense. It's as simple as that. Nothing more, nothing less. And I will fight for the sheer simplicity of it.”

Stars, he doesn't deserve her. Not in the slightest bit. How could he let himself be weakened by such a headstrong force?

Fox sniffs, letting out a bitter laugh to cover his true emotions. “You're impossible.”

“You're impossible.”

At the perfect impression of his voice and pitch, dread immediately creeps down his spine. “Les, that's so creepy. Don't pull that Lorrdian thing again.”

“Don't pull that Lorrdian thing again,” she repeats, and he visibly shudders, making her grin. “I'll pull that thing again until you give me your blessing.”

“As if you need a blessing.”

“You matter, Fox.” Lesiil reaches to grab his hand and squeezes. “That is why I'm telling you this.”

Fox stares at her long, before his lips form a smile on their own. He squeezes her hand back. “You're too kind.”

Stars, even he forgets the last time he's being this nice. Like, genuinely nice and at peace, without a sliver of annoyance laced onto his tone and gait… to a kriffing girl, nonetheless. So kriffing sappy. The whole thing is so alien to him.

“I’ve been called polite for my speech and annoying for my incessant intellect rambling, but you are the first to call me that,” she says.

Fox shakes his head in mock disbelief, already getting used to her demeanor. “You sure about that?”

Lesiil grins. “Of course not. My humor never fails me in this kind of conversation and it makes you laugh.”

A picture of a night together at 79s flies across his mind. He would introduce Lesiil to his usual command batch with gruff annoyance and glaring don’t you kriffing dare at them the entire night. Cody would definitely break into a hell of laughter together with Wolffe at this revelation. Rex would throw him subtle knowing smiles the whole night as he sips on his stupid pastel-colored cocktail and Bly, that son of a droid, would tease him endlessly he might be getting a slap across the face.

And smartass Lesiil would just laugh and throw her intellectual remarks in their faces. He'd love her to make them adore her to the point of stupid like many should. He'd want nothing more than grinning smugly and beaming with pride as the display of what she really just is.

Fox looks at her fondly. “You're something else, Lesii.”

“And you are, too,” she replies easily, intertwining their hands together. It still catches him off guard on how daring she is tonight, making the first move and all. Good, because he's still stunned by all that she is and thus can't. “Among millions of clones, there is only one you, Fox.” She beams, her grey eyes shining like stars.

And Fox lets himself relish in the feeling…

Before biting back in jest, “How many hundred of us have you met anyway?”

“Under a hundred, certainly,” she shrugs, “Do you want to introduce me to your brothers?”

Stars it's like she's reading my mind.

“Your commander batch, perhaps?” Lesiil continues as he remains stunned in silence and gobsmacked as kark, “Aside from Commander Wolffe, maybe, but his presence is more than welcome. I would like to catch up with the gentleman.”

“Uh, sure,” Fox immediately sobers up, “It's been a while since we all hung out together anyway. I'll try to line up schedules when most of them are planetside.”

Lesiil hums. “I will clear mine once you drop the date and time.”

Their beer eventually runs out, and they have to break their handholding so Fox can pick up and open the last two bottles for themselves.

Lesiil settles next to him again repeating the initial position – her head on his shoulder. This time, once she does, he follows on top of her immediately.

“Have you given it a thought?” Lesiil suddenly asks beneath him, breaking the peaceful silence.

“About what?”

“About us, Marshal Commander.”

Lesiil feels the man tense next to her.

It's a huge step for both of them. Lesiil herself is no stranger to relationships, having a few of them in the past, but none lasted.

With Fox, she feels… challenged. In a good way. Stimulated. Grounded. His sense of authority matches her energy and her hidden quirks. Not that she looks to exploit his traits for her own good, but…

The first time she met the Marshal Commander, he was stoic, gruff, and quite to the point. Some of those traits she likes, finding herself constantly seeking for such anchors. Fox isn't like any clone in a war battalion based on Railuu’s tellings. Fox is different. His sense of order is much stronger and he upholds laws and regulations like faith.

In other ways, outside the extreme pressures of his imposing lifelong career, he wishes to be patient. Deep down, behind all the thick layers consisting of strict manners and gruff upbringing and his comical desperation for caf, he wishes to be gentler.

Lesiil notices how his entire demeanor almost changes compared to moments where he's with his command batch. Fox is a little rowdy himself behind closed doors with his brothers, but with her, he's a different person. At first it was merely air of strict professionalism and respect of what she's capable of, but now, now he's a…

A friend. A good company. A confidante.

She likes him however he is. His very presence grounds her. His confidence is infectious and his strictness reminds her of order.

With all he is, Lesiil can't help her blossoming feelings. For once, this time, she can't slap a logical explanation on it. For once, she isn't scared to face the unknown because she knows Fox, and the rest may feel like an adventure, and it just feels right, so…

“I would very much like to give this a try,” Lesiil starts gently, “That is, if you have no issue whatsoever. Or is there another clause in your regulations I have absolutely zero awareness about?”

Fox merely looks at her, amber eyes softening and she can even sense him thinking, weighing his options. Of course. Duty and work, against relationships.

“It… doesn't say anything about informal relationships,” he finally says, his voice lowered, slightly twinging with doubt and insecurity.

“But marriage, you can't have?”

He suddenly bursts out laughing.

“You sound like Yoda.”

Lesiil laughs along, “The Jedi Grand Master?”

“Yeah. He spoke backwards like that.” Fox then sniffs, dismissing the hilarious air altogether. “And no. We're not allowed to marry. We're not exactly created to live long.”

Realization swallows her, and it makes her… disappointed somehow. “I see,” she mulls.

Comfortable silence envelops them again. She watches Fox taking a swig, his throat bobbing as he swallows beer and the muscles of his neck strains against his black body glove. As he finishes though, she swiftly averts his gaze by chugging the beer herself.

“I'm twelve years old.”

Maker, she's fortunate enough he says that after she finishes drinking. Or is it that he was considerable enough so she wouldn't sputter onto his armor in shock?

Lesiil clutches her chest. “Would you care so kindly, in an effort to calm my poor pounding heart, to explain what you meant by that?!”

Fox looks at her in amusement. “We clones are engineered with accelerated aging,” he explains, “To put it simply; by physical appearance I'm 24 years old, but by standard years I'm 12.”

Unconvinced, Lesiil does a quick sweep across his face. Prominent eye bags. Maker how many day old stubble. Tired look on his face. Not to mention the grey hair that adorns his crown of black curls that she often finds herself internally gushing over. Whenever he blinks, even now, Lesiil finds herself afraid he'd suddenly be out of consciousness and drift to sleep on the spot.

“I mean no offense,” she begins slowly, “But you don't even look 24 years old. You look well over 30. It must be the ever stressful senate duties.”

Fox snorts. “You have no idea.”

“No, I do not,” she agrees. Railuu failed to tell her this as it never came up during conversations. But it was refreshing to know, nonetheless. “And to console you, might I say that I love your hair?”

Fox looks up at her sharply before subconsciously and nervously running a hand through his curls, a tinge of pink grazing his sharp cheekbones. “To be honest I don't even care if I'm growing more grey hair if this war keeps going on.”

You can grow as many as you'd like, but I jest.

“I speak the truth, Fox,” Lesiil smiles at him, reaching out and brushing his fallen hair away from his brows. His blush deepens and leaves her feeling smug and confident with her bold advances. “And if we’re going to talk about our hair without even returning to the main topic, I’m going to grab more beer.”

“You brought more?”

“No, but it got you. So may I believe my humor is exceptional.”

“Ha ha,” Fox laughs mockingly before it dissolves into a quiet laugh, and hers follows suit.

Both are lucky they are the type of people that can hold their liquor.

Lesiil drinks her share, leaving about a quarter as soon as she notices Fox staring. How could she ever turn away from those sparkling amber? And with a smile on his face, it makes her evening even better. It makes her evening pleasant, to learn that she probably has to be the only person to earn the privilege to see a softer Marshal Commander Fox.

“So,” he starts almost hesitatingly, “you wanna do this?”

Lesiil grabs his hand. “We don't have to progress into anything worth labeling yet if you're not comfortable,” she says, “And if you don't want it, I will be watchful of my boundaries until the moment you say the word.”

Fox scoffs in disbelief. “You kidding? I'm the one who kissed you first. What makes you think I don't want you?”

“Honestly I thought–” Lesiil does a double take, “Did you say you want me just now?”

“Uh, didn't you say that?”

“I said ‘it’, Marshal, meaning I was referring to whatever this is we have not put a label on…” she trails off when he pulls her gently onto him, one hand steadying her waist.

Fox bores into her triumphantly. “So that gets you to shut up.”

Lesiil swallows the snarky remark that sizzles on her tongue and laughs instead, placing a hand on the cool plastoid of his chest plate. “I was merely caught off guard.”

He faces away from her to drink, and Lesiil uses the chance presented on her to observe his scars up close. She reaches up, cupping his other side of the jaw once he finishes, and places a ghosty trail of kisses down the gashing scar on his left cheek.

“Are you drunk?” Fox sharply accuses in disbelief, but not pulling away, “You can't be drunk after two bottles of beer, can you?”

“You silly commander, of course I’m not drunk,” Lesiil giggles as she caresses his stubble. “I am presenting you,” she pecks the scar on the corner of his lips, “my full attention, and my capabilities to show how wanted you are to me,” she smiles against his skin, “And admit it, you like the attention.”

“I have two blasters on me right now. If you ever catch me lying,” his voice catches in his throat when Lesiil nips at his jaw, “I'd like you to use them on me.”

She meets his gaze – a glittering amber, smirking. “A sound idea.”

He suddenly grabs her shoulders and pushes her slightly away as he breathes heavily. Lesiil relishes the glimmer in the amber pools of his eyes, the charming sight sends her stomach aflutter. But then that spark dampens, the slightest shift warning her of upcoming words she never wants to hear.

“But I'm a clone.”

Lesiil bites back her mimicry ability out of kindness, lets out a dramatic loud sigh while giving him a scolding look. “That didn't stop you from actually admiring me and eventually falling in love with me.”

Fox snorts, yet Lesiil feels his cheek getting warmer underneath her touch. “What makes you think I'm falling in love with you?”

“Every single shift in your countenance and entire demeanor whenever we both are alone like this. I won't tell you since when to not make you feel ‘creeped out’,” she smugly rambles, “Now, do you want to hear the honest version?”

Fox feigns hurt. “Huh. That was a joke?”

“Of course not. That was the joke, you silly man. I have–”

“Exceptional humor yeah yeah, stars, just kriffing shut up, will you?”

Giggling and knowing too well that he never actually wants her to shut up, Lesiil finally takes another swig of her beer after all that. With her sweet scrutiny away, Fox's hand momentarily draws circles on her back. He apparently had put his bottle away, because his other hand now reaches to cup the side of her face. Lesiil catches a spark of admiration and something else in his eyes before they close just as his lips capture hers, locking in with finality.

Warmth builds up in her stomach as a shaky exhale escapes her between breaks, relishing in the feel of Fox's lips tirelessly brushing against hers in urge. It takes her another moment and his other hand to grip her waist to pull her flush against him, before she finally manages to reciprocate the tender movement.

Lesiil kisses the Marshal Commander back with newfound passion, her chest moving against his as she lets her fingers be tangled with his dark curls. Each brush of his lips sparks passion inside her. Fox tastes like the beer they just had, with an unmistakable undertone of caf – the unmistakable taste of him.

Putting more fervor into the heat, Lesiil boldly deepens the kiss, brushing the tip of her tongue against his moist lips and nipping down in request. A soft grunt escapes him when she does, his mouth dropping open but before she can make herself at home, his own tongue shoots out grazing against hers, the warm sensation causing her to involuntarily moan into his mouth.

Fox’s hands make their hasty way along her back, pulling her impossibly closer as if his very intention is to fuse her together with his body, allowing her to be overwhelmed and drunk with all that he is – caf, beer, gruffness, masked gentleness, passion, and indefinite authority she gladly would follow any time.

Without warning, he pulls away and turns them around, pining Lesiil against the wall, the edge only meeting her mid back. Fox cages her in with both arms, feverish fire burning in his gaze as his eyes map coordinates all over her face, an action where she waits patiently until he's satisfied and decides to pull her in again.

But then it softens, his gaze dropping to see her beer bottle still loosely clasped in her hand. Gently, he then pries the bottle away and places it next to his just an arm's length away.

“Oh that is very kind and gentlemanly of you,” Lesiil teases, her voice slightly hoarse from the kiss.

“Shut up, Lesii,” Fox retorts, his own raspy voice sending delightful shivers down her spine. Lesiil chuckles sweetly as he works to flush his body against hers and pinning her again. His amber gaze bores into her deeply with resumed passion. “Just kriffing put your hands in my hair and breathe the short life out of me,” he demands gruffly, his forehead meeting hers, “I want you.”

Lesiil leans away from his incoming mouth, her own lips lifting into a teasing smirk. “Or what?”

Fox tugs on her hair, keeping her in place where she's supposed to be – a mere breath away from him. “I'll just keep interrupting you in the middle of your smartass ramble,” he mumbles against her lips, “and shutting you up.”

Lesiil smiles through his relentless and passionate attacks on her lips, delightful shivers running down her spine as she throws her arms around his neck. “Then perhaps I will just keep talking.”

Taglist (Form): @yoursrosie @hellfiresky @msmeredithrose @filamentlights @heidnspeak

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

[theredcuyo]

You see, i keep thinking about fics sending characters back in time and how they just fix everything and they're sweet and i love them but also

There's things you just can't change, you know?

How would a 8 year old fucking stop a traffic accident on the other side of his city, not even the country they're in

How does a child prevent someone somehow from getting an illness that will kill them, both psycological and not

I'd love a story where yeah, they fix what could be fixed but stomp into walls that just couldn't be prevented, not having money for the doctor, personalities that just won't do as they wish, people forgetting or ignoring a kid's advice, someone that needed more than a few words to turn away from certain paths

And i don't mean it in a "Destiny finds a way" type of thing, they can do stuff, they really can, but somethings go far, far away from their capabilities

[flowercrowngods]

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 (these make one big story, you won't understand this part without the others)

day 04: here come the tears

a/n: the people have requested a surprise eddie pov and i have decided to pull a eurovision and ignore the public vote, just a little bit. but you get a tiny eddie pov, as a treat 🤍

Steve is crying. It's 1:07 a.m. and Steve is crying. And there is nothing Eddie can do about it as he's lying in bed, his heart breaking further with every passing second that they lie there in silence, quiet sniffles carrying over the phone. 

Steve is crying and Eddie is breaking. Steve is not talking to him and Eddie is breaking. Steve is not okay, and neither is Eddie. They're both breaking. 

And Eddie doesn't know what to do about it, how to fix it. How to make it better. How to tell Steve that he misses him, how to ask him to talk to him, how to keep him. To stop him from slipping through his fingers further and further until all there is is silence. 

"You know," his mind wanders back to years ago, his heart cracking at the memory. "I had the biggest crush on him for the longest time. Forever, really."

He remembers the way Steve's eyebrows shot up, his eyes round with... shock? Surprise? Or maybe something bad? 

"Oh?" 

"Yeah," Eddie had chuckled, fiddling with the straw in his drink to give his hands something to do. "Remember that kiss?" Steve nodded. "Well." Another chuckle, awkward this time, and possibly too revealing. 

Steve grinned at him, a self satisfied smirk that wavers just a little. "So you're saying you did fall madly in love with me, Munson?" 

Eddie's breath had hitched a little because Steve remembered those words so perfectly that had since doomed Eddie completely. But he covered it up with a laugh so easily, he was sure Steve didn't notice. 

"Maybe," he grinned. "But eh, that's in the past." 

It wasn't a lie; not really. But wasn't the truth either. 

The truth was that Eddie had moved on. The truth was that it's the kind of crush that was never really a crush. The kind that is a Forever more than anything else. 

The kind that will always be there, a flame burning inside my chest that carries your name and keeps it alive, keeps me warm. The kind of flame that will always be ready to become a bonfire again. Just say the word, Stevie. It's written in the universe. Say the word and I'll be yours. 

"Good," Steve said after a while, and Eddie remembers frowning, remembers that he wanted to ask what that tone was, what Steve was thinking. If he was worried or disgusted or felt betrayed that Eddie's been so hopelessly and helplessly in love with him. 

But all he said was, "Yeah. Remember Chrissy? We're kinda official now." 

And Eddie had known then just as he does now, that he'll be a happy man with Chrissy. She's his best friend, a sunshine on bleak days. She's no Steve, but she makes him happy. He had to move on from Steve – to try – and allow himself his own kind of happiness. He'd never expected to find it with Chrissy, but he loves her so much. He's grown to love her in the past years – not the movie kind of love, not the all-encompassing Steve kind of love, because that flame inside his chest can still only carry one name. 

But life is not a movie. And love is not always a fire. But he's still warm, still content, still happy. And so is Chrissy. She knows about his flame, says she understands. Eddie thinks he has one of her own, but he never asked; just held her that night, creating more of that silent happiness.

…Is he happy? Lying in bed, listening to Steve's quiet breaths that are barely audible over the phone, remembering the kiss, the confession, the Forever that he tried to move on from, he wonders what he's doing. Wonders if that contentment is worthwhile if it somehow lead him to losing Steve. 

Did he miss something? Did he fuck up without realising? 

He can't ask; Steve won't talk. 

All he can do is lie there and feel that flame that still carries Steve's name after ten, eleven, twelve years scorching his insides. 

All he can do is wonder if the whispered, "Good night, Stevie. I miss you," is some kind of goodbye. All he can do is lie awake all night and wonder where they started losing each other. 

~*~

Missing Eddie is worse than loving him. Missing Eddie makes it feel like all the heartbreak songs are written for Steve and his pain that will persist.

It’s been three months since the engagement party, and the sharp, biting heartache that cut into his lungs every time Steve tried to take a deep breath has dulled now, turned into a constant ache, an emptiness, the sorrowful traces of where an I love you turned into an I miss you. 

He’s barely talking to Eddie anymore, and with every passing day he just misses him more. 

Steve types the words I miss you over and over and over again, but never hits send. Just stares at them, wondering if Eddie knows. Wondering if he’s doing the right thing. He isn’t. There is no right thing. Nothing is right. Not without Eddie. 

He scrolls up in their chat, past Eddie’s questions if he’s okay, past his very own I miss yous, up and up and up to the strings of hearts, to the inside jokes, to the gentle teasing, to the You’re my favourite persons, to the happiness and joy and good, good times. 

He scrolls and scrolls until his phone vibrates and tells him there’s a new message in the chat. Steve frowns, his hollow heart racing as he scrolls down again to see Eddie’s new message. 

Eddie Munson: — Can I come over? 

Steve frowns. 

— why? are you okay? 

Eddie Munson: — No. — Nothing is okay. You’re gone and you’re not talking to me and I miss you and I’m losing you and I don’t know why — I dont know anything. — I just wanna know, wanna talk, wanna understand — I wanna fix this. I fucked up, I think, and I wanna make it better. — I need to talk to you — Please. Please can I come over 

Steve swallows hard, as he reads the incoming messages over and over again, watching the little bubble that says Eddie’s typing still. Watching as it disappears and reappears, reading until his eyes begin to sting and his vision is blurred with tears for the first time this week. 

Letting them fall as he types, 

— no. please dont 

Eddie doesn’t reply to that, and Steve breathes out long and hard, throwing his phone to the side, not caring where it lands on the couch as he slumps over to the other side, turning up the music even louder. 

Oh, can you tell I haven’s slept very well Since the last time that we spoke. I said, ‘Please understand I’ve been drinking again And all I do is hope.’

It consumes him, this song and the way it was written for him. The way it was written about him. Because he has no right to ask Eddie to stay. He’s the one who’s leaving. He’s the one not telling Eddie what is wrong, why he’s pulling back so suddenly. 

I’m not strong enough for the both of us. What was I supposed to do, You know I love you. Please, stay.

Please stay. Please, please, please stay. It’s about him. It’s about Eddie. About them. 

And Steve listens to it over and over again, not caring that his neighbours will know it by heart by know, will be so tired of him wallowing for weeks and months, and will come knocking soon. He doesn’t care, not when Mayday Parade are singing, All the love’s still there, I just don’t know what to do with it now. 

He types that into Eddie’s chat. Doesn’t hit send. Sends it to Robin instead, and gets a shaking hands emoji in return. It makes him smile as he re-starts the song. 

~*~

That night, he wakes around 2 a.m. to a missed call an hour ago and one new message on his mailbox. He lifts his phone to his ear with shaking hands and bated breath, a pit opening in his stomach when he hears the Judas Priest song that’s been in his Sad Eddie playlist since the beginning. 

His heart cracks open when he hears Eddie’s sniffle, a heavy sigh, and another sniffle, followed by a little, Fuck. 

“Stevie? I’m… You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to just— to just disappear. To slip through my fucking fingers, or float away like a— a dream, when you wake up, and you wanna go back to sleep because it was a good dream, and you— I don’t wan’ you to be a good dream Steve. You’re like… Fuck, man!” 

Eddie’s voice is breaking, and so is Steve’s heart as his hand begins to tremble and he sits up in bed, closing his eyes, squeezing them shut because he doesn’t want to see the world as Eddie’s rambling at him. 

“I miss you. I miss you so much, and I don’t understand what’s happening. I don’t… I don’t wanna miss you. How do I get you back, Stevie? Please just… God, please just talk to me. I’d do anything for you, you know that. Just tell me, just say the word. Just… Just say the word, please.” 

There’s silence after that, only Judas Priest’s Here come the tears over and over as the song is ending. Steve is crying as he listens to Eddie’s silence. 

“Just. Just… Please, Stevie.” 

The call ends then, the line cutting to the staticky voice instructing him to save or delete the message. Steve saves it. He doesn’t know why. 

He also doesn’t know why he’s scrolling through his contacts with trembling hands and hits Call when he reaches Eddie. 

The call doesn’t even get to the second ring before it’s picked up already. 

“Stevie?” Eddie sounds breathless, wild, and just a little hoarse. Like he was still crying. 

“Hi,” he says lamely, still shaking, a little breathless himself, and with absolutely no idea what he should say. 

“I’m… Hi.” 

Silence falls, and Steve wipes at his eyes. He’s still in bed, just sitting there with his phone pressed to his ear, and the ball that’s coiled inside him is growing larger and larger with each passing second that he doesn’t say Sorry, that he doesn’t say I miss you, too. That he doesn’t say I love you. 

“Can I come in?” 

He blinks, the question throwing him off his thought spiral. “Huh?” 

“I’m sort of… outside your building right now.” 

Why, he wants to ask. No, he wants to say. You’re gonna see, you’re gonna know, you’re gonna hate me forever. 

“Okay,” he breathes and climbs out of bed, blanket around his shoulders despite the summer heat, because suddenly he’s freezing. He buzzes Eddie in, listens to him on the phone as he walks up the stairs, neither of them thinking of hanging up, and opens his doors with shaking, trembling hands. 

tagging: @sexymothmanincarnate @mcneen @livsters @eddiemunchondeeznuts @abstractnaturaldisaster @steddie-as-they-go @hyperfixationgoddess @goodolefashionedloverboi @stxrcrossed186 @imzadidragonfly @eddiemunsonswife @bidisastersworld @ghost-ly-s @romanticdestruction @walkingaftermidnight07 @anaibis @rainydays35 @mightbeasleep @sunfloweringstories @korixae @tuesdaycats @totoroinatardis @ilovebookshowboutyou @musical-theatre-gay @theluckyalien @copingmechanizm @srra @changelingbaby @sassygoop @obsessivelyme @r0binscript (sorry if i missed anyone just give me a shout if i did <3)and thanks to everyone who said nice things about this 🤍🌷

come back tomorrow/later for [redacted] | read here

[t-u-i-t-c]

Sakito Homura in Bakuage Sentai BoonBoomger 01x48 Your Handle

+ bonus

[the-travelling-witch]

𝐎𝐂 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐍𝐒 (𝐟𝐭. 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐬' 𝐨𝐜𝐬)

summary: i was plagued by the visions of my twst ocs interacting with my moots’ ocs, so here we are (aka i had a sudden burst of motivation to write about them interacting and now i'm very nervous to post this)

characters: cassandra, selene, angelica, carmilla (my ocs); @crystallizsch’s yuusha and yuuna, @viperbunnies’s oz (ft. yuudai), @anbaisai’s mayu

warnings: bullying (oz's part); jamil slander bc i love him <3 (all parts)

a/n: if i ever manifest in your dms with cryptic questions about your ocs, be not afraid, just answer them :3c (also i need to set up my oc directory and finish some intros fr)

twisted wonderland masterlist

CASS + YUUSHA + YUUNA

The sun was still high and clear in the sky as Yuusha made her way towards Ramshackle. Most students had already either returned to their dorm by this time or were still goofing off with their friends, sparing her any unnecessary run-ins with any of the college’s troublemakers. But, at NRC, a day could only stay peaceful for so long. When she passed by the mirror chamber, her phone vibrated.

Ramshackle Support Group 

yuuna: @.yuusha be careful when you come back to the dorm yuuna: the stairs to the second floor caved in again yuusha: i’m still close to the school, i’ll go talk to crowley about it Cass: Wait for me, I’d also like to have a chat with the Headmage. yuusha: we’re not killing him Cass: Not even a little?

A few hours later, with the sun already far behind the horizon, the three girls fell onto Ramshackle’s rickety couches in exhaustion. Crowley had very generously provided them with funds to purchase supplies for repairing the stairs, but had otherwise not lifted a single clawed finger. Likewise, Grim was nowhere to be seen when he heard of physical labour.

“So,” Cass broke the silence, lifting her head from a cushion, “when are we going to ask Kalim for help instead of that useless weirdo?”

“We can’t just go and mooch off Kalim just because he’s rich,” Yuusha interjected, rolling over and settling into a more comfortable position at the other end of the sofa.

“Why not? Every other student in this school seems to be absolutely loaded. We, on the other hand…” Cass fished out a pillow under her golden locks and demonstrably pulled open the entire seam by a loose thread. “It’s not like Kalim would even notice.”

“Well, by that standard,” Yuuna chimed up while straightening out the bow in their hair, “why don’t you go ask Leona, Cass? I’m sure he’d be more than willing to help you out.”

“Yeah right, and next you know Azul will start handing out freebies,” the blonde snorted. Discarding the thread between her fingers on the coffee table, she started fiddling with the frazzled pillow cover instead. “Why are you bringing him up anyway? Aren’t Idia or Malleus or Vil just as rich?”

Her dorm mates exchanged knowing looks before Yuusha tilted her head towards Cassandra again with a grin. “Oh c’mon, we both have eyes you know.”

“And I’m not sure if those are working correctly.”

“Why deny it?” Yuuna giggled, taking a sip from the mug cradled between their hands. “Sure, Leona’s got an attitude problem and is generally unpleasant, but it could be worse. Probably.”

“You’re imagining things, why would I—“ Breaking herself off with a sharp exhale, Cass pulled the seam taught between her hands. “I’d rather throw myself headfirst into a pit of horned serpents than ask that ass for a favour.”

“Mhm, I’m sure you’d like to ask that ass something else instead,” Yuusha gleefully joined in the teasing. A second later a certain cushion hit her square in the chest, which didn’t deter her. “Or are you saying you decided to join Jack’s morning run, which just so happens to end at Savanaclaw’s morning practice, with no ulterior motive?”

“It certainly wasn’t so I could see Leona more! But anyway, since I already brought up snakes just now,” Cass started, turning her bright eyes on Yuusha. “Why don’t we talk about what I saw when passing by the courtyard this afternoon?”

With a telling glance towards Yuuna, who sat curled up in their armchair now, Cass added, “Involving a certain Vice Housewarden.”

“Oh my god! Did you come home late because you were meeting with Jamil?” There was genuine excitement in Yuuna’s voice as they perked up where they sat. “You gotta spill the beans now.”

“Only if a certain someone spills the tea on her and a certain lion.” The pillow flew back towards Cass.

“There’s nothing to spill here,” Cass retorted, catching the projectile easily.

“Oh right, by the same chance Grim will pass the next potions exam.”

“I noticed you didn’t deny that there was something going on between the two of you.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Yes!”

“Both of us actually!!”

It was a long night at Ramshackle. (Some say they’re still debating their terrible taste in men to this day.)

SELENE + ANGELICA + OZ (ft. Yuudai)

Of course this would happen to him of all people. If anyone was unlucky enough to accidentally delete the message stating where the film research club would be meeting and then miss Yuudai, who had forgotten his phone at the dorm that day, by a few minutes, of course it would be him. And though he knew better, when Oz was running all over campus trying to find the prefect, he started hoping to run into someone who could point him in the right direction. Which was when he quite literally ran into magift players on their way home from a gruelling practice and looking to blow off some steam. 

“Tch, I thought I smelled another beastman around,” one of them scoffed as they started crowding around Oz, making him scrunch his nose in distaste. “Turns out it was just this little runt.”

“Yer always hoppin’ all over the place, aren’t ya?” The one on the left joined in, laughing as he started jabbing his finger into Oz’s birthmark. “Why don’t ya show us a trick, ya little freak?”

“Look who’s talking.” A clear voice cut through the air. Over the guys’ shoulders Oz could spot green hair and a pair of orange antennae. Selene looked entirely unimpressed by the scene she was witnessing. The dark-skinned girl walking next to her didn’t look any happier either. “The only freaks I’m seeing are the giant idiots running their mouths for no reason. Are you having fun only picking on people smaller than you?”

“Ha? You got some kind of problem, you bug-legged freak?”

“Oh, no, you’re the only ones with some kind of problem here. Your vernacular for example,” Selene waved them off. Her voice made it clear that she was completely over this conversation and considered talking to them a waste of her time. Slipping a phial out of her pockets, she swirled its luminescent contents around with a pensive look on her face before fixing her gaze on the magift players again. “Since you never pick on anyone your size maybe I should shrink you down to the size of mice? I need to test this one anyway…”

Seeing the seriousness in her expression the guys urgently whispered between each other before deciding to scram but not without hurling a few more insults at the Pomefiore student. In response, Selene only gave them a meaningful look and her lip curled slightly at the corner.

“If I was you, I’d be careful with the cafeteria food for the next few days. Who knows what could accidentally slip in there.”

With the athletes out of sight, Oz’s shoulders finally dropped their tension and he heaved a sigh as he approached the two girls. By now, the potion had already vanished somewhere behind the width of Selene’s flowy sleeves.

“Thanks for stepping in,” Oz started, before adding a little more hesitantly, “but you wouldn’t actually spike their food, right?”

“It’s true that I’ll eventually have to give this potion to a person but I’m still perfecting the ratio of the ingredients,” Selene shrugged nonchalantly. Seeing Oz’s unconvinced expression she added with a small smile, “As long as they think there’s the chance that I would, it’s sufficient. Some people would call human experimentation at this stage unethical. And frankly, that’s more paperwork than I care to bother with, so don’t worry about it.“

“‘Those people’ are called an ethics committee, Sel, for the seven’s sake. Also quit making such jokes or Oz will think you’re being serious about it,” Angelica spoke up, exasperation and fondness mixing in her tone as she smiled at her girlfriend. As she shook her head, the star-shaped buns on her head bobbed, making various accessories in her hair glitter like stars in the night sky. Then she turned her dark eyes on Oz. “Anyway, that aside, are you okay?”

“Just a bit shaken up, but otherwise I’m fine,” he said. Absent-mindedly, one of his gloved hands traced the spot where the guy had poked him but Selene’s dual-coloured eyes caught on to the movement. Digging through her purse, she procured a compact mirror and concealer.

“Your make-up came off a little. If it makes you more comfortable, you can touch it up. It won’t be perfect but our teint is similar enough for it to pass.” Holding the utensils out to him, Oz took them from her. “The cushion’s unused if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh no, that’s not it.” Considering just leaving it at that, Oz trailed off before exhaling deeply. From all the brief times he’d talked to Angelica and Selene, he didn’t think they’d make fun of him for what he was about to say, so he plucked up his courage. “It just feels a little silly sometimes that I care so much about something like a birthmark.”

The girls exchanged a quick glance before Angelica smiled at him warmly, reaching out to hold the concealer while Oz applied it in the mirror. “I don’t think it’s silly at all, if that helps you.”

“I agree,” Selene nodded, adjusting her glasses afterwards. “We all have traits we feel insecure about, especially if others have commented unfavourably on them in the past. Some days we feel more comfortable showing them and on others we’d rather hide them from view. I think most people feel like that.”

When she took the make-up from him again, Oz couldn’t help but notice the pink colour staining her arms from the tips of her fingers to her elbow. He obviously had known it was there, but hadn’t paid it much mind up until now. Something told him Selene had personal experience in the matter as well.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Angelica spoke up again, “what happened earlier anyway? I find it hard to imagine that you wronged them somehow.”

“Oh!” Oz suddenly remembered the club meet he had to get to, so he very quickly explained his problem to the couple, who listened attentively even as he nervously thumped his foot and nearly bit his tongue. “So just when I started hoping to find anyone from the film research club, I ran into them instead.”

“Well, you found someone who can help you in the end after all. Though we’re not from the film club, Selene has something she wants to ask Vil, so we were actually just on our way to meet them.” The Ignihyde student’s voice was so light and welcoming as she spoke, it was hard to imagine she actually went to NRC. “If you want to, you can accompany us.”

“That would be a big help,” Oz took her up on the offer. 

Soon enough, the late afternoon was filled with the usual complaints levelled at teachers and classmates. Selene described how she had passed by the first year’s botany class on mandrakes recently and had nearly had a heart attack because she had thought she heard one of the plants scream, but it had turned out to be Sebek instead. The art teacher had once nearly tossed out Azul’s assignment because they hadn’t recognised it as a finished painting, Oz told them. Angelica recalled how, in her first year, they had had joint potions classes with the third years once and she had almost passed away when she was partnered up with Leona, only to barely catch his head from nodding off into the potion.

“Looks like we still made it in time,” Angelica sighed in relief as they spotted Vil assigning tasks from a distance. Turning to Oz with a smile, she brushed a stray coil out of her face. “It was fun talking to you. Makes me wonder why we haven’t interacted more before, despite all of us being second years.”

“I don’t think that’s on either of us,” Selene interjected, her antennae and the green-pink moth wings on her back fluttering in the evening breeze. “It probably has something to do with the fact that Oz hangs out with Jamil a lot and that guy has always been giving me the widest berth possible.”

“Ah… Please don’t hold it against him,” Oz tried to defend the vice housewarden, knowing how he already reacted to bugs the size of his finger. While wondering what else he could say, he heard his name being called. “Well, I’ll see you around then. And thank you again for everything.”

“You’re very welcome. And good luck with those photos!” Angelica waved him goodbye as the two made their way over to Pomefiore’s housewarden.

Selene only elegantly tilted her head down as they parted but still left him with a friendly “À bientôt.”

In the meantime, Yuudai had made his way over to him, camera already hanging around his neck as he’d no doubt gone through most of the preparations already. Despite that, he still grinned at the sophomore.

“Oz, there you are. I was already worried you had forgotten that we’re helping Vil today.”

“How could anyone possibly forget that?” Scratching his head, he decided to gloss over most of what had happened. “I just got held up a little. Anyway, what can I help you with?”

CARMILLA + MAYU

“Mayu! Just the person I was looking for~”

Looking over her shoulder for the sweet voice calling her name to find the hallway completely deserted, Mayu shook her head and turned back in the direction she was going. Only to nearly jump out of her skin as she came face to face with a pair of sharp, teal eyes.

“Sorry, did I startle you? That wasn’t my intention,” Carmilla cooed, not sounding all that sorry. The ghostly flames around her flickered mischievously as the fae fell into step next to her. “You were on your way somewhere, weren’t you? Why don’t we walk while we talk, hm? It’s been a while since we last got to chat, how are you doing? Nobody’s giving you any trouble, right?”

“Oh uhm, I’m doing fine and everyone’s very nice to me. Thank you for the concern,” Mayu answered, giving Carmilla a small smile. As they continued towards the library, the prefect fiddled with her cuff sleeves as she hesitated to say what was on her mind, before conceding. “Actually, I’m struggling with Ancient Curses at the moment. I just never seem to get them right.”

“Ancient curses, huh? I’m quite good at them, but so’s Jamil if I remember correctly.” Casting a studying glance at the girl next to her, Carmilla went on smoothly. “Haven’t you asked him for help before? I’m sure he won’t try to weasel himself out of tutoring if it’s you.”

“I did think about it,” Mayu admitted with a sigh, “but he’s been so busy lately, even more so than usual. And I don’t want to bother him.”

A gasp echoed around the hallway as Carmilla halted in her tracks at a crossroad, head whipping around to the younger girl next to her. It made Mayu stop, too, and look at her curiously. 

“Does that mean he hasn’t even been making time for you?” The fox’s usually playful expression had shifted, regarding her with eyes that had softened around the corner in sympathy. 

“No! It’s not–” Mayu immediately piped up, holding her hands up in defence. How did they end up talking about her and Jamil in the first place? “I know that he does try to make as much time for me as possible. He just has a lot on his plate at the moment.”

“Oh dear, that won’t do. Tell you what, I actually came here to ask if you want to take some clothes off my hands.” Procuring two bags stuffed full with fabrics out of thin air, the idol held them out for her to take. “They’re all products from brand deals that aren’t really my style or colour, but I thought they might look cute on you. Especially since you came here without anything you could call a wardrobe. If you end up not liking them, you can just give them back to me, I don’t want you thinking I’m just dumping my old clothes on you.”

“Oh, that’s too kind of you, Carmilla,” Mayu exclaimed, pleasantly surprised by the weighted bags now dangling off her arm. Running her fingers over the soft material lying on top, it reminded her of the comfy hoodies she regularly ‘borrowed’ from a certain someone. “I can’t wait to try them on.”

“Don’t mention it. Normally I’d just leave it at that but considering what you just told me, you should totally wear them the next time you go out with Jamil! In fact, why don’t you just ask him out the next time you see him?” And just like that, all worry was erased from Carmilla’s face and her sunshiney smile was back on as she curled a pink strand around her manicured finger. “Personally I don’t get what you see in the guy at all, but I do commend the charity work. Plus, as you said, he could reaaallllyy use a break~”

“Hm, I don’t know about asking him out all of a sudden,” Mayu contemplated, her dark eyes trailing over the bricks in the walls as she considered it. “But I would like to do something nice for him.”

“I totally support it! Oh, actually, that reminds me! There’s an upcoming festival in Foothill town, celebrating the new year. It’s always super cute and scenic.” As Carmilla spoke, the air around them filled with magic before displaying luminous scenes of people mingling in the streets of the quaint town, various foods and items in hand as the night sky was illuminated by fireworks. “You should really go and experience it for yourself. Can’t let an opportunity like this pass you by, right?”

“Right,” the prefect echoed as she watched the last wisps of the illusion fizzle out into nothingness. With newfound determination, she fixed her big eyes on the fae again. “Thank you so much, Carmilla. For everything.”

“Oh please, I hardly did anything. And about the clothes and the festival,” she leaned towards Mayu with a conspiratorial twinkle in her eyes, “let’s keep it a secret between the two of us, no need to credit me. Consider it my good deed of the day.”

As Mayu nodded, albeit a little confused by the request, Carmilla’s ears twitched at the sound of a familiar set of agitated footsteps. Feigning surprise as she looked down at the time of her phone, she gave the younger girl an apologetic smile.

“I guess that’s my cue to leave. It was fun catching up, we should really do it more often. For now, though, you’ll have to excuse me.” Slinking past Mayu with a wink, the soft fur of Carmilla’s tail brushed against her uniform as the pink fox disappeared the same way she had spontaneously showed up earlier. “Toodles~”

Hand half-raised to wave at the now empty hallway, Mayu took a second to process what had just happened, from beginning to end. The bags in her hand corroborated that she hadn’t just imagined it and when she looked up any events that would soon happen in Foothill Town, the festival was there too. With a shake of her head, Mayu wrote it off as just another one of NRC’s daily occurrences. Just then, someone else rounded the corner. 

“Prefect, what are you doing here?”

“Oh Jamil, hi. I was on my way to the library to look for books on ancient curses.”

“Ancient curses? I still have some notes I could lend you from my first year…”

Carmilla only caught the beginning of their conversation as it trailed off in the distance. Mayu was right when she said Jamil could do with a break. It had gotten to a point where seeing him in the morning started putting her on edge too and it made her fur stand on end. Especially when it affected the other students in the dorm as well. Palpable tension and all that. Needless to say, something had to be done about it if Carmilla wanted to go back to some relaxing peace and quiet.

No harm done by pulling a few strings if placating their vice housewarden also benefited the prefect, right?~

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[saikkunen]

Smile for the camera.

[jibanyans-chocobar]

Watching Naruto Shippuden's first filler arc atm and I uh. Have some questions even though I know none of this is canon

- Why is Asuma denying that he has something going on with Kurenai like DUDE. We know YOUR OLD TEAM KNOWS Kakashi knows EVERYONE KNOWS

- What the heck is wrong with Sora (/gen like what is wrong with him is he okay)

- Why are the bad guys surfing on graves. Just. Why

- Fym Asuma was part of a 12 people (if i remember correctly) squad made to protect the feudal lord or something like that

- Why did Naruto basically say "I'M NOT GAY" to Sai out of nowhere? Like I mean I get why but did he really have to say that "he doesn't go that way" lies lies LIES

- Why did they animate one of the best openings in anime history EVER for a freaking FILLER ARC (and it happens again. And also happens with endings. Like. Diver or Broken Youth or U Can Do It orrrr idk what else)

(Spoiler warning under the cut for the arc that follows this one)

- Is this a filler arc to just say "oh look at Asuma he's so cool he was part of that organization and stuff LOOK AT HIM AND START LIKING HIM because we're about to kill him" or what

[outlying-hyppocrate]

coming back here feels like paying a visit to the fucking dead.