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witchyfrankincense · 3 years ago

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La Méprise (part three)

Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: You start history with Spencer Reid in your university auditorium.

Warnings: violence, fight, reminding of trauma, season 13 spoilers, prof!Spencer, student!Reader, suggestive.

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Like clockwork, Spencer had turned around faster than you realized no one was following your steps next to you. Your heart dropped more than it already had as you understood that there was something, some nick, that you had failed to catch. But maybe you were the lost one here?

It seemed like Spencer had no doubts about his forthcoming actions – you watched him take quick, aggressive strides towards Mike. Seconds later, his tensed fist made contact with Mike's face. Spencer's act made you jump. Your usual first instinct would have been to yell, to interfere. But this time you didn't.

Right after the action, Mike was angrily pushed against the wall.

"You should stop talking," Spencer mumbled, angrily shoving him at the wall for the second time, pulling the man by his bunched-up jacket. Mike let out a pained groan and scoffed, later inhaling a deep breath of air. "Okay," he spat out. "Okay. Man."

"If you ever even look at me again," Spencer spoke, a harsher than usual undertone in his voice. However, soon after, he just went silent, staring at Mike for a few more moments before releasing him from his grip. You breathed out, shoulders dropping. You felt tiredness wash over you, obvious from all the stupidly scary events that had just happened.

After seeing Spencer turn back around and start walking towards you, you nodded and turned away from the sight of Mike silently chuckling and wiping his bloody nose. You opened the door. The fresh breeze of the outside air lifted your mood and you took a wide step outside.

"Can you still walk with me?" your voice reached both of yours' ears after you closed the door. "Oh, yeah. I'll join the team later," he replied, glancing in your direction. You both went quiet, still walking, Spencer seemingly following your lead of way. "Thank you," you suddenly muttered, placing your hands into your jacket pockets.

"Hm?" Spencer replied to your unexpected gratitude. You let out a small sigh, looking down at your synced-up footsteps. "Thank you for doing that. I would've punched the bitch myself, but, you know," you softly spoke. He smiled. "I'm not...usually a puncher," he weakly mumbled, shoving his hands into his pant pockets.

"I could've guessed," you joked, instantly frowning on yourself. "It's, not like you, you know, look like you wouldn't be able to, uh, punch someone, I was just—,"

"Joking. Yeah. To be fair, I agree," Spencer finished for you, making your shoulders drop in relief. You both let out chuckles. Continuing to walk down the asphalt path, you looked around the university campus. "Yeah, I usually take the bus to university. Quicker that way. I don't have the ability, nor want to sprint here at 8 a.m. Though, I enjoy a walk sometimes," you craned your neck to his side, sharing a random daily life thought. He nodded, straightening his shoulders.

"That is very true, actually, did you know that walks are extremely good for your well-being? Just 30 minutes every day can increase cardiovascular fitness, strengthen bones, reduce excess body fat, and boost muscle power and endurance. It can also reduce your risk of developing conditions such as, uh, heart disease, type 2 diabetes, osteoporosis and some cancers. Unlike some other forms of exercise, walking is, you know, free and doesn't require any special equipment or training," he finished talking, glancing at you brightly. You raised your eyebrows in shock and cheered.

"Wow! Spencer—,' you stopped, realizing your lack of knowledge about his last name. "Reid," he mumbled back, continuing to walk. "—Spencer Reid, the fact machine! Hey, buddy, does that head ever get too heavy for you?" you laughed out, crossing your arms and raising your head. "Hey," he mocked your tone, "That, is downright mean," he raised his voice playfully, his eyebrows furrowing.

You both bickered as you rounded the corner. And, you continued talking while walking down the lonely road. And while you pointed out the apartment building you were staying at.

And when you both said goodbyes after he had led you to the building door, a creeping feeling of awe kept trying to make you fall – to slip down the very stairs you built.

Five days later

Thursday.

"Spencer?"

Three mornings. After the boringly passed weekend, you had spent the last three mornings walking into the auditorium and longingly glancing at the seats – hoping to see the familiar curly-haired persona. But you never did, as each time you looked up, the seat was empty. Had you scared him off? Or maybe he thought you were weird? Many questions swarmed your mind constantly, and, well, there was really no hope of distracting it. Because the only person who could, wasn't showing up.

On the blessed fourth day, you walked into campus, sipping your new-bought iced latte with caramel, dressed in dashing black baggy jeans and 90's-esque top with a bunch of shiny silver jewelry all over your neck and hands, not expecting anything to be different. Because you got it, you understood – obviously he had a job to do, a terrifyingly important one, at that, and going to these lectures and meeting you was just a side mission – a pastime.

However, as you were making your way to the door, you noticed him – Spencer, standing near the entrance.

"Spencer? Hey, you're back," you exclaimed, quickly swallowing your sip of coffee and smiling. He returned the smile, nodding. "I am, uh, I had a bunch of cases, so, didn't really have time," he spoke, joining your stride to the door. "No, it's all good, Spence. I get it. Your job is extremely important, and I definitely don't expect you to, you know, always be here." Seconds later, you mentally cursed at yourself after realizing your accidental use of a nickname instead of his full name. "Shit—, sorry, I called you Spence," you pointed out quietly, glancing at him to watch his reaction. He, however, gave none.

"It's okay—you know, this teammate of mine, JJ, she's my best friend—, she also calls me Spence, so, yeah, you can, if you want," he mumbled out, a smile playing on his lips. "Wow, didn't know you had a girl best friend! I bet she's super cool," your voice rose in slight excitement.

You realized that you both had stopped walking.

"She is," Spencer replied wholeheartedly, smiling. His eyes then dropped down to your outfit. "You look pretty today, by the way," he pointed out, seconds later turning back to face the entrance and beginning to walk forward. Your mouth hung open in slight shock and it took you a good second to catch your expression, shake your head and speed walk towards Spencer.

He complimented you.

"Thank you," you mumbled after catching up to him, flashing him a grateful smile. He nodded. "You know, there's something I want to tell you," he suddenly spoke up, his lowered tone making your heart drop for no other reason than worry. "What is it?" you instantly asked, grasping the handle of your bag.

"Oh," Spencer lightly laughed, glancing at your direction. "It's nothing bad, I promise. I mean—I'll just tell you. I'll be in temporary teaching at this university," he mumbled. You raised your eyebrows, aiming your gaze at the ground. "Really? That's cool," you answered, smiling through your words. "So, you'll be my professor?" you blurted out a thought, regretting it a moment later.

"Yeah," Spencer chuckled back, looking at you. "Guess I will."

Butterflies suddenly erupted in your stomach, and your expression changed as you realized that. Shut up, you softies. You had no idea why you felt so warm out of the sudden, as all you did was think about Spencer being your professor.

Spencer being your professor? Did you have some weird professor and student fantasy?

You subconsciously shook your head and continued walking in silence alongside Spencer, deep in thought. However, a moment later your inner mind light bulb lit up and you lifted your head up, straightening your posture. "Wait, what trained FBI team member takes up temporary teaching for some inexperienced students?" you asked, shooting him a quick look. You saw him tense up, visibly sighing. He looked at you and weakly smiled.

"I really wished you hadn't asked me that," he muttered and you frowned. "Oh—I'm sorry, I didn't—,"

"It's okay. You have the right to know. I've—uh, I've been to prison. Falsely accused," he began, nervously correcting himself after noticing your intense stare. The both of you blinked in shock – you because of Spencer's sudden confession, him – probably because of the same thing.

"Of what?" you asked carefully. Spencer swallowed. "Multiple drug possession. Suspicion of drug distribution. Murder of Nadie Ramos," he muttered quietly. You felt your eyebrows furrow, mind running through all possibilities. "Oh."

"I was framed. But I still spent almost three months there. It was, uh, bad," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I'm sorry," you replied, feeling at a loss of appropriate words. Spencer quickly shook his head, smiling. "You don't have to be. That's why I'm teaching. I was recommended to do it. It's like a...break, I guess."

You returned his smile, looking back at the ground. "You start today?"

"Yeah."

You began walking through the corridors, making your way to the auditorium. "I bet you'll make a great professor," you quietly exclaimed, watching his somewhat anxious expression shift into a softer one. He chuckled. "Thank you. I hope I'll live up to your expectations." "You will," you muttered almost instantly, voice higher. Once again, seconds later regretting even opening your mouth. Spencer laughed again. Walking through, Spencer pushed the already open door further, stopping so you'd walk first. You thankfully nodded back to him and smiled. "Go sit," he suddenly mumbled behind you and you felt him place his warm hand on your bare lower back, softly pushing you towards the seats.

You inhaled harshly, barely containing the need to arch beneath his hand, and quickly nodded, hurrying to the stairs. Spencer visibly grinned behind you.

Hopelessly ignoring your previous spot, you hurried to the second aisle, quietly hoping that the seat you chose wasn't taken. After all, you were fully ready to support Spencer on his new-found teaching, you obviously knew him more than the other students.

"Hello, uh, my name is Spencer Reid," he started, voice raising on his last name. The others quickly settled down, slightly interested in their new professor. He was easy on the eyes. You grinned to yourself, still gazing at him. Apparently, Spencer did indeed feel your stare at him, so he looked back, a smile beginning to play on his lips as he breathed in. Moments after, he began going on about a whole cluster of themes and subjects he had decided to teach you all. You failed to take your eyes of him.

"Yes! So, this'll be it for today, don't forget to buy or get that book from somewhere else because it shares extremely good opinions and is very important for your understanding of what we're going through! And have a great day!" Spencer raised his voice to express his last thoughts to majority of the students who were already getting up from their seats and heading towards the exit door. You stayed, a wide smile on your lips as you noticed him glance at the leaving students with brighter than usual eyes. You stood up, fetching your bag and dropping it on your seat. You slowly walked towards Spencer, him finally looking back at you.

"See, you were great, Professor Reid," you jokingly exclaimed, seeing him laugh while packing his belongings behind the desk. "Thank you, Y/N, guess I am pretty great at teaching. I just, I don't know, felt as if you were all so interested in what I was speaking about, so, yeah, that was pretty great," he expressed, running his hand through his fluffy hair.

Your eyes subconsciously traced his hand, cheeks somewhat heating up, and you smiled. "Yeah, we were all pretty into your teaching. It's cool, your way of talking, I mean. But I think that wasn't the only reason why they were so immersed in you," you spoke, not realizing your accidental change of view. You both chuckled, Spencer seemingly deepening his gaze at you. "I wonder what that is," he teasingly replied, leaning down to get his case full of books and teaching material, however not turning his eyes away from yours.

You broke the eye contact, deciding that the conversation was way too teasing for your liking, and laughed quietly to yourself.

Oh, shut up, Ms. I-might-have-a-professor-kink, I know you'd love for this mood to go on for the rest of your pitiful life.

"I wonder, too," you mumbled, feeling warmer. Spencer returned a light scoff. "Well, you seemed to know it when you first brought up the fact, so, tell me. I'm clueless, Y/N," he replied again with a tiny bit of a smooth velvet tone in his voice and your heart almost dropped in fear of his words. Why was he so confident? "Well, I think we're both kinda', you know, aware?" you hesitated, looking back at Spencer. His tongue darted out of his mouth, wetting his lips and he stood back, sliding his chair under the desk.

"Are we? Am I?"

You swallowed, trying to regain your usual snarky mood, while also moving back to your seat and snatching your bag from it. "I think so, yes," you exclaimed, sighing and joining his stride to the door. You both walked beside each other, Spencer sheepishly smiling and looking straight ahead. He didn't say a word until you reached the door.

"Well, why don't you think about that like a good student and tell me tomorrow, hm?" Spencer suddenly spoke up, making you freeze in your step. You widened your eyes at his words and looked up at him. His eyes were shimmering. You both stopped walking and you nodded, feeling awfully hot at his title for you. He smiled and unexpectedly raised his hand, leaning in closer and brushing a strand of hair out of your face, pushing it behind your ear. You continued to stare at him, wide-eyed, and he seemed to enjoy your confusion.

"Goodbye, Y/N," he muttered and lowered his hand near his side, opening the door and closing it behind him. You began feeling weak, reaching behind blindly in search of the wall. After you had found it, you leaned against it, trying to regain your breathing.

What just happened and why did you like it?

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #smut #fluff #criminal minds #derek morgan #david rossi #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #penelope garcia #love story #bau team #fanfiction #professor #spoilers

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ppersonna · 5 years ago

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kiss it better - ksj | m

been waiting on that sunshine boy, i think i need that back. can't do it like that. no one else gonna get it like that. - kiss it better, rihanna

↳ summary- your best friend Kim Seokjin makes you an offer you can’t refuse

↳ rating- explicit / 18+

↳ word count- 3.7k

↳ pairing- seokjin x reader

↳ genre- smut, comedy, fluff

↳ warnings- oral sex (f receiving), fingering, finger sucking, dirty talk, daddy kink, jin making really bad jokes at bad times.

↳ a/n- well hello there! i hope you enjoy this! this fic is a collab with @kookiesjoonies all about bad hookups being saved by BTS. make sure you check out her yoongi fic HERE! i hope you enjoy this little piece! i love the visual of jin....well.... you get the idea HNNNGGG *vibrates in thot*. feel free to message me, send me an ask, comment, throw a rock at me, whatever u wanna do i wanna engage w/ UUUUU. LOVE YOU ALL! -lindy

If you had to pinpoint a moment where it all started, where everything changed, it was the night you came home after another bad hook up left you nearly crying in your shared 2 bedroom apartment.

Jin found you pouring an excessive amount of wine into a mug, on the verge of tears.

“Terrible date?” Your roommate asks as he leans against the door of the kitchen and motions with his head towards the gallon of alcohol you’re about to drink like it’s coffee.

“You can fucking say that again,” you grumble. You will not cry—you’re forcing that mantra through your brain at whiplash speeds.

“Jeez, how bad could it have been to make you wanna pound a keg of wine?” He jokes. Your eyes level with his and he can see you’re not in the mood for comedy. Another time, he supposes.

“Men,” you laugh with mirth. “You and your stupid fucking dicks and no brains and all you care about is getting off.” You’re fuming with anger, which given the situation is probably more than what is called for but you’re sure if the next hook up you manage doesn’t care to get you off, you will go absolutely wild.

“I’m still not grasping what’s wrong here,” he folds his arms over his chest and relaxes against the wood. You’re clutching the wine glass—mug—but still not drinking it.

“I haven’t gotten off!” You exclaim with enough gusto that some wine spills out. Jin rushes towards you and grabs a rag. He knows you’re lethal in the kitchen. Sticky for days.

“You haven’t gotten off? Like they don’t make you cum?” He asks as he wipes up the harsh red liquid on the counter. Your eyes watch his hands and for a second, a split second, you admire the tendons and veins moving under his skin as he cleans up your mess.

“Exactly. It’s a one and done, get out of my bed sort of thing,” you huff. “I’m not asking to be cuddled or whatever. But can’t a girl at least get some oral?”

Jin stifles a laugh and wrings the rag out in the sink. “How long has it been since someone made you cum?”

A wave of shame courses over you, but you’re not sure why. Jin’s someone you trust. It’s not like he thinks any less of you for fucking guys who don’t have a shred of decency.

“I mean, I can make myself cum every night in my room,” Jin’s ears turn a slight shade of pink at this and you’re suddenly curious. “But with a guy? Fuck, probably a year. Looks like I pick the real winners.”

He’s silent, and it makes you feel nervous. You can’t explain it—or rather you refuse to accept what you’ve been avoiding for a while. That your eyes linger on your roommate’s form as he exits the shower with a towel around his waist, the broad expanse of his bare shoulders with water still running down his back. The way he pushes his hair back when he’s tired. That you’ve had more than one night of slipping your hands down your body with the image of him in mind.

It feels wrong. It feels dirty to think of your best friend in such a way. And yet, it thrills you even more.

“I hope you don’t—... feel like I’m sleazy or something,” you murmur, buried in your newfound self-consciousness.

He smiles up at you and leans over the counter, resting his head on his hands and watches you curiously.

“I could make you cum,” he offers. It sounds like he’s offering to run errands for you, buy your lunch when you forget your wallet.

It’s so simple that you’re stunned into silence. Your brain skids to a halt to process what just escaped the mouth of your longtime best friend, roommate, confidant.

He chuckles as he watches the gears try to turn in your mind. “I’ve been told I’m great at oral. Not to brag. Just what I’ve heard.” The smirk on his lips definitely tells you he means to brag.

“You want--... to eat me out?” You ask incredulously. He’s still staring at you like it’s no big deal, just another everyday event. Best friends getting each other off. You wash the dishes, he dries, then he’s buried tongue deep in your cunt? Is that how it works?

“You seem really upset, and as your friend, if I have the tools to fix it, why would I hold back?” He postulates. You can’t help but agree with his theory. Your heart is thumping soundly in your chest. Is it just a friendly thing? Is he offering out of the goodness of his heart or is there something more? Are you willing to let your pussy win out and get the pleasure at the sake of getting your heart broken?

It doesn’t take long to decide.

Fuck yes you are.

“Okay,” you agree. “Are we going to fuck too?” You ask as you wash your hands of any remaining wine. You haven’t drunk a sip and you still feel tipsy and lightheaded.

“Do you want to fuck?” He narrows his eyes at you in playful suspicion.

It makes you blush. “I—I’d like to…” you’re suddenly shy and you can tell it thrills Jin to see you thrown off your game.

“Then let’s fuck, baby girl,” he smirks as he pushes up from the counter top he rested on moments ago.

“Your place or mine?” His joke is stupid, but it makes you laugh, anyway.

“Knowing your disgusting ass, your bed is covered in god know’s what. Mine, please.”

He tuts and walks behind you down the hallway, hand resting gently at your back.

“Is that any way to talk to your best friend? The one who’s going to eat you out until you’re crying for more?” His words send a shiver down your spine, and he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Well, fuck—when you put it that way…” you trail off.

Your bedroom has never felt more foreign to you in your life. It’s the same as it always is. Queen-size bed, photos on the wall, messy laundry in the corner spilling out of the hamper. But now you’re in it with Jin. You’re in it with Jin because he’s promised you at least one orgasm and you’re sure he will try for more, knowing his ego.

“Welcome,” you gesture nervously as you sit on the bed.

He rolls his eyes. “Stop acting weird,” he chides. “It’s me, you don’t have to be weird around me.” He’s pressing you down towards the pillows to relax.

You want to retort it’s exactly why you’re acting weird. The man you play drunk Monopoly at 3 am with is pressing into you now like he wants to eat you for hours. He’s seen you crying, held your hair back while you puked, heard or witnessed your most embarrassing moments. And now he’s about to fuck you stupid.

You allow your body to relax against all the sirens in your brain telling you this is weird, this is fucked up, you’ll regret it. The blood is rushing out of your frontal cortex and towards your lower half, making your pussy drunk on anything Seokjin can give you.

He smiles as he sees your body relax into the comforter on your bed and he places a hand on your cheek.

“See? Easy peasy.” You roll your eyes and he chuckles. You want to comment, tell him he’s a fucking idiot like you always do when he says something cheesy, but he beats you to the punch and presses his lips against yours gently.

You’ve always wondered what his lips would feel like against your own. He tastes like peppermint. Idly, you realize you’ve always associated Jin with the taste of warm, smoky vanilla, but now that you’re here with your tongue swirling around his, the peppermint makes sense. It suits him.

He kisses you tenderly. It’s not the rushed kiss of a quick hookup. It’s not the passionate kiss of long-lost lovers. It’s the sweet, compassionate kiss—the kind that wants to make you feel like nothing is wrong in the world. Your heart stutters and leaps into your throat as he cups a cheek in his embrace and rubs the delicate skin there with a thumb.

The kiss is finished too soon for your liking. He’s pulling away and smiling down at you. His eyes sparkle with something you can’t quite put your finger on but it makes you feel lit up like Christmas.

“I hear I’m an excellent kisser too,” he smirks down at you and the moment is lost. “Would you agree?”

You roll your eyes. “God, I can’t believe you,” you sigh. “You’re hopeless.”

He tugs on the hem of your shirt, indicating he means to take it off. You tense for a moment. It seems you’ve stupidly forgotten you should be naked for this act. You’re about to be naked and laid bare in front of your best friend who you’ve harbored an inkling of a crush on. He’s about to see your most vulnerable side. Could you trust him? What if he mentioned the freckle above your ass? What if he pointed out something wrong with your body? A wave of uncertainty washes over you.

Jin pulls your shirt off easily and gently. He tosses it toward your ever-growing laundry pile and turns his attention back to you. You’re still in a nice, pretty bra from the hookup and Jin’s eyes are captivated. The cocky smirk is wiped off his lips, and instead he gapes. Your breasts are encased in creamy red satin and he sits up straighter and can’t break his gaze.

“Wow,” he breathes, and it makes your cheeks heat.

“Sorry, I know it’s too much, I can just—,”

He cuts you off with a finger to your lips.

“I always knew you were pretty but, fuck—.. you’re a vision. You’re gorgeous.”

You’re heating. The way your core clenches around nothing as Jin compliments you with all sincerity and no sense of humor like he does has your blood rushing.

“Can I—,” he swallows as he attempts to steel himself. “Can I take it off?”

You nod, too shy to impart any dialogue and assist him by lifting your back slightly to allow his hands space to un-clasp the lingerie.

It falls away easily and you close your eyes as your full globes come free. You hear Jin’s breath catch and it’s silent. A few beats pass and you’re ready to end everything now, it’s too awkward, when a hand gently cups one and a thumb rubs over the nipple. It makes your spine tingle.

You crack your eyes open and see Jin staring intently at your chest, following his thumb as it drags back and forth against the hardening nipple.

“I think you have the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen in my life.”

You want to argue and tell him he’s just saying that to be nice, but the retort dries up in your throat as he leans down and sucks a nipple into his mouth. He tugs on it with the suction of his mouth and licks stripes against the bud. You moan loudly. It feels like he’s praising you with his mouth.

Jin takes his time. You can tell he’s in no rush. He suckles and presses kisses to your breasts with the same attention to detail he gives his culinary creations. He massages each globe in his hands and alternates his lips back and forth between nipples. He draws sweet sighs and moans from your lips and your fingers thread through his thick hair.

After his careful ministrations, he pulls up and smiles at you.

“I’m not going to lie,” he starts. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”

You feel like you’ve been slapped. Kim Seokjin, your roommate and best friend, has wanted you? As much as you have wanted him?

He can see you’re faltering for words and he shrugs.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. It doesn’t have to change anything.”

His immediate dejection spurs you into action.

“I’ve wanted it for a long time too,” you reply. “Jin, why would I agree to have sex with you if I wasn’t interested in being with you?”

He smirks a little and you know you’re in for a witty one-liner.

“You wanted to take a ride on this wild stal-Jin.”

His grin is cocky, as it usually is, and as annoying as his jokes are, it loosens a knot of nerves inside you. You had somehow convinced yourself Jin would be a completely unfamiliar person after this. It seems that wouldn’t be the case.

“Oh my god,” you groan.

His hands and mouth are roaming your chest and stomach, peppering the skin with kisses. He teases at your navel with his tongue and any irritation you felt at his terrible pun flies out the window as you feel a surge rush through your veins straight to your cunt.

He fiddles with the button and fly on your jeans, the ones that hug your curves just perfectly.

“Your ass looks good in these jeans,” he comments as he tugs them down. “Almost a shame to take them off. But I’d rather get a full uncensored view.”

You blush and lift your hips to allow him to pull your jeans off. Long legs are spread on the bed and a thong barely protects your modesty. It’s already soaked, there’s no denying it when Jin steals a glance and cocks a coy smile.

“Naughty,” he tsks jokingly. “Someone’s excited to get sucked by the Seok-master.”

“Jesus Christ, Jin,” you sigh. “I hate you.”

“I’d like you to try to say that again when I’m three fingers deep inside you with my tongue.”

His words roll over you like a trail of fire. It clenches at your throat and sizzles down to your core. You can’t help but let a moan out and arch your back.

“I thought so,” he smirks. He fingers at the straps of your thong for a moment and then trails a finger down your slit. It’s wet and warm, and he bites a lip.

“Bet you’re real pretty here too. I think about what your pussy looks like a lot.”

It’s sending you into an unfamiliar state of consciousness to hear Kim Seokjin say such illicit things about you—things you thought to be off-limits.

“Bet it looks even prettier with your face buried in there.” A sly smile spreads on your own features, and Jin looks pleased.

“That’s my fucking girl.”

He tugs the black thong down and it joins the chaos on your bedroom floor.

He’s here now. It’s real. It’s happening. His eyes are glued to your cunt, and a finger is tracing the outline of the lips there.

“No one has ever made you cum from oral?” He asks again. He’s mystified by your center and he hasn’t even seen the full thing yet.

A shuddering breath escapes you as you confirm. “No, no one ever has.”

He sucks his teeth for a moment and remains silent. His fingers slowly slide in to spread you open lewdly, displaying your clit like the grand prize behind the curtain.

“I’ll make sure you get off every single night,” he promises. “No more hooking up with assholes. All mine, okay? Just like you always should have been.”

It’s hard to breathe as you feel his fingers achingly close to your clit and you’re sure your channel is weeping with desire.

“Okay, Jinnie,” you murmur.

“It’s daddy, now, baby.”

It feels like the world stops and you whimper with need.

“Please, daddy,” you cry. “I need you.”

“I can tell, baby. Your poor little pussy hasn’t been shown the love it deserves, hm?” He asks. He still refuses to move any closer to where you need. “You need daddy, don’t you? You need someone who will worship this cunt.”

The air in your lungs is sucked out with vacuum-like force.

He lowers himself to lie between your legs, face close to your center. He spreads your legs further, almost on the verge of discomfort, and wraps his arms under your thighs and grips at the tops to keep you spread.

Suddenly, he’s pressing his face into you and a tongue darts into your channel and laves around. Your eyes roll back in your head at the feeling.

He’s testing the waters, per se, and getting a taste of you. He wants to know what spots drive you crazy. Are you solely a clitoral stimulation girl or do you need the feeling of something filling you tight and deep too? He hopes to learn every single aspect about your cunt before the night is over.

He watches your facial expression as he licks from your walls and up to your clit. Your face contorts in ecstasy as the tip of his tongue flicks quickly on the nub. You’re gasping with desperation, singing his praises as he suckles and rub at your button with his tongue.

You taste delicious; he notes. Earthy, but still sweet like nectar. He thinks maybe your body was tuned to be his.

He spends time there, and it drives you mad. He’s sucking and flicking and dipping his tongue inside you and you feel a sense of euphoria no man has given you. Jin’s pillowy plush lips apply just the right pressure to your clit, kiss it so sweetly you might cry as he then inserts himself to lap up your juices. He drinks as if he’s dehydrated of you, only you, and if he doesn’t get more, he’ll perish.

“Jin—.. daddy, fuck,” you correct your mistake and it makes him chuckle against you.

“Good girl,” he coos. He pulls an arm out from between your thighs and sucks two of his fingers into his mouth, a disgusting display for you that has you nearly cumming right there.

After he determines you tortured and his fingers slicked enough, he moves forward again and slides said fingers up into you. Your back arches again and Jin smirks. You’re a penetration girl just as much as you are a clit girl, and Jin knows he has you hook, line and sinker. He’s unlocked your formula and plans to see it to your very end.

“Look at you,” he murmurs adoringly as he fucks in and out of you. “So nice and wet for daddy. Getting my fingers so slick.” He groans. His cock is hardening rapidly, and he moves his hips on the bed for some stimulation. “I can’t wait to fuck this sweet little hole. I’m going to be the only one who ever makes you cum, and I will always make sure you fucking cum.” He promises.

You’re whimpering with a pleasant mixture of need and satisfaction as he thrusts his digits into you. Jin’s taking his time, which leaves you breathless, gasping for more and more. You want to be greedy and tell him to take you now, so hard and fast, but you want to make this last forever. Your pussy has never felt so alive and vibrant with desire as it does right now.

Jin returns to his post, mouth firmly attached to your clit as he picks up a pace with his fingers. He’s suckling again at your nub and you find it’s the perfect amount of pressure that has your vision darkening around the edges. An impossible tight string is winding so tightly inside you and you feel it threaten to collapse your entire body.

You allow your waning attention to focus on Jin for a moment, and you realize how he truly looks in his element. It looks as if Jin should have been the one between your thighs this whole time. You thought maybe this would feel wrong and perverse. Instead, it feels as if you two have finally slipped together and fit into the picture perfectly, instead of trying to jam into spots not meant for either of you.

It’s heady to think of him like this, your best friend who knows everything about you. It makes sense now—it was always meant to be him in your life. You’ve always wanted him to be the one who simultaneously makes you laugh and cum. He was always meant to be the one for you; it just took until now to really understand it.

Jin picks up the pace again, and it washes away your thoughts as you feel him increase the speed and pressure of his tongue in time with his fingers. His eyes are closed and he’s focused on this like it’s his destiny. Your legs quiver in anticipation as the tightness pulls more, pulls harder and your cunt tightens around his fingers.

It snaps the string inside you and your mental capacity. All you feel is bliss as your body unravels at his hand. Your channel pulses around him and he grins as he feels the clenching and hears your sweet and agonized moans. You’re incapable of any coherent thought except Jin, Jin, Jin and how deliciously sweet he has made you feel and the ecstasy he has wrought out of you.

He allows you a moment to settle down from your high and pulls his fingers from you. He presses a chaste kiss to your clit which makes you squeak at the over stimulation.

As you come back to life, panting breath slowing, he sits up on his knees and smiles at you.

“So, are all the rumors true? Am I good?” He looks smug and as much as you want to slap it off him, you can’t when he’s covered in your slick and looking incredibly sexy while doing so.

“Yeah, you’re good,” you breathe. He grins back at you and moves to lay next to you on the bed. You snuggle up beside him and throw your arm and leg over him. It feels as if you’ve been doing this for years, as if this isn’t the first time you’re being intimate with your best friend of two decades.

After your breath settles completely, he looks over at you with a smile.

“You ready for round two?” He asks.

You’re moving and straddling his hips, rubbing against the hard length in his jeans.

“You know it, daddy.”

His hands quickly move to unbutton his jeans and shove them down and off his body.

“Well,” he quips with his signature grin. “We better get down to Jin’s-ness.”

#bts smut #bts jin #bts seokjin #bts fic #bts kim seokjin #seokjin smut #jin smut #worldwide handsome #bts imagine #bangtan smut #hyungsmutsociety #kwritersworldnet #btswriterscollective #btswritersnet #ksmutclub #bangtanarmynet #heartsforbts #ficswithluv

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count-woe-laf · 4 years ago

Text

You can’t spell stargaze without gays

I write? Since when? Yes I’m aware the title makes no sense, I’m uncreative. This was supposed to be a late birthday present for @me-a-mess-morelikelythanyouthink but it’s super late now, I still enjoyed writing it and planning it with her, I hope you’re having a great day, Silver. I’m sorry I got science facts wrong and I don’t know how to end things or how normal people talk

Logan and Virgil are hopeless pining gay idiots with horrible communication skills, but they’re working on it. (Romantic analogical, very background royality and platonic dukeceit.) 1850 words

"Bring me a diet coke!" Virgil called to Roman as he ran out of the truck, through the gravel parking lot, and towards the bright 7/11.

Logan let out a small laugh from next to him. "You know he's going to spend an hour flirting with the cashier and forget."

"Yeah I know, it's fine. Surprising that he's moved up from panicking around Patton to flirting with him, that's what I call character development."

"Character development that's gone on for ten too many seasons."

"True. But while he's in there I have more time to spend with you," Virgil replied with a smirk, Logan's cheeks reddening.

"You all are disgusting," called Remus from the backseat.

"I agree," Janus sighed. "Though I can do many things, understanding allos is not one of them."

"Then get out of my truck," Virgil jokingly glared into the rearview mirror.

"It's Roman's truck-" Logan started, Virgil shifted his glare towards him. "Ok yeah, get out."

"Think we can find bigfoot, Jan?"

"We're only half an hour away from the city, try again," but Janus let himself be dragged out into the nearby forest.

Logan and Virgil were left alone, thoughts of what had gone on the past week between them running through their heads. The hand brushes, the late night phone calls, the hoodies, the excessive amount of feelings that for once, neither of them minded. There was always more to say though.

"You can see lots of stars from out here," Virgil commented rather nervously. "You should come outside with me and look at them."

It was an offering just for Logan. He was the only one allowed to stargaze with Virgil while others were flirting in a 7/11 and being chaotic in a forest. Logan and Virgil in the bed of a truck staring at the night sky. ...Well, one of them was looking at the stars.

"You know to stargaze you actually have to look at them, right? You can just look at me, V."

"Who's saying you're not a star? 'Cause you definitely are, love."

"Love?" Logan tilted his head towards Virgil's red face.

"Uh-" Virgil looked away quickly. "What is that constellation? It looks like a spoon."

"Do you seriously not know? That's the big dipper, it's part of the constellation ursa major."

"You're the science-y one here, how would I know?" Logan just sighed. "You should keep talking though, I love your voice."

"Oh… Well that's the northern star…"

"Why is it called that?"

"Um, it's the most northern star, I believe astronomers base things off of it."

Virgil snoted, "wow. Star dudes sure are creative."

Logan looked over, an indescribable emotion on his face. "Pardon me, but did you just call astronomers, 'star dudes'?"

Virgil stared back, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Star. Dudes."

"...I will defenestrate you."

"Oh?"

"Do you even know what that means?"

"Yeah," Virgil said. "It means you pick me up and I get to simp over your muscles."

"It also means I throw you out of a window."

"I'll take what I can get." Logan let out a fond sigh. "Ok 'cause your constellations are boring and factual- don't worry I still love them- but I'm telling stories now."

"You're going to kill me."

"In your dreams, babe."

"What's that supposed to-"

"Over there is Elenor, it kinda looks like a bunny, I know. Their boyfriend is Jesse over there-"

"Virgil I swear, I'm leaving you in the forest." Logan's words gave a much different meaning when he was struggling to keep in his laugh.

Virgil chucked. "Oh Logan, so naive, there's so much more. Those three stars? Yeah they're Bo Peep's sheep."

Logan choked, the statement taking him by surprise. "Excuse me? You can't just…"

"Y'know, from Toy Story? Doesn't she have three sheep or something? I swear that was a plot point in one of the movies."

"The threat of being thrown out of a window still stands, Virge."

"Good, now that star over there…"

"Her name is Jennifer, she got a constellation for making the best bean salad."

Virgil tried to hold in a laugh. "And what did you say that one was?"

Logan was so enamoured with Virgil's laugh that he almost didn't notice him intertwining their fingers. Almost. He still had to take a breath to regain his nearly non-existent composure. Although fifteen minutes couldn't have passed, Logan could tell that it was a good decision to accept Roman's offer for a fake road trip.

"That guy with the belt?" Logan continued. "He was the first person to invent clothes. Quite the fashion icon for his time."

"Oh yeah?" Virgil giggled and Logan's heart stuttered in his chest.

"Yeah, he was also the only straight man in his village. It was very controversial." Virgil hummed in response, trying to calm his laughter.

"We're pretty controversial."

"What do you mean by that?"

"We're lying in the bed of Roman's truck, well past midnight and the city limits, looking at stars. Janus and Remus are probably lost in the forest and Roman and Patton have probably gotten over their gay panic and are planning their wedding together."

"I'm not sure how that's controversial, but it is interesting that we've achieved nothing compared to them." Logan's eyes drifted back to the stars.

"I think not getting lost is a plus." He made a noise of agreement. "And uh… I know we're not as vocal about stuff like the others but… Dating you wouldn't be bad." It came out more like a question, causing Logan to look back at him.

"Fuck- I mean-" Virgil ran a hand down his face. "It would actually be really really nice if I could be your boyfriend because- ugh stop staring at me like that! It's just that you're really great and nice to be around and to talk to and I can't imagine you not being in my life. A-and I know we've been kinda sorta dating but you know how dumb we both are about romance and all that stuff- oh god this is romance, I can't believe that…

"I just really like you, Logan and I need to make sure you know that."

Virgil's words swirled into the air, into the sky, into that great expanse of stars and light.

They laid there and stared at the stars, thinking, considering, and a fair amount of staring on Logan's side.

He couldn't help it, really. He couldn't stop his eyes tracing the curve of his jaw, his bitten lips, the words that previously escaped them were still spinning through Logan's head. And Virgil's hair, his adorably messy hair that was usually hanging in front of his eyes, was pushed to the side, Logan could see a galaxy reflected in his beautiful eyes.

Virgil was his galaxy, his sun, his stars. He had kept him sane through years of school. He constantly went out of his way just to brighten Logan's day a little bit more, and brighten he did.

Virgil meant everything to him and he'd be damned if he went home tonight without showing him that.

"Didn't… Didn't you say you always wanted to go stargazing with your partner?"

"Uhh, yeah." Virgil replied hoarsely.

"I suppose you get to cross that off your list, then." Logan wondered how he suddenly had some semblance of smoothness to his words.

"Oh."

The stars seemed awfully bright that night, especially in the way they reflected off Virgil's freckles.

"Is… Is that a shooting star?" Virgil lifted his free hand, tracing the bright line across the map of stars.

"There's no such thing as shooting stars." Virgil rolled his eyes. "But, I… do believe that's a satellite."

"Then make a wish."

"That's stupid and makes no sense, wishing on a satellite has no affect on my life."

"Just do it, my northern star."

Logan's red face was a reflection off the far away street lights, nothing else. "Am I supposed to tell you what I wished for?"

"Not really, but you can. I'd love to know what goes on in that brilliant head of yours."

"My head is empty, unfortunately." Virgil laughed, he did that quite a bit around him. "I wished that we'd have a good relationship. Apologizes, is that weird, or too soon? I… just mean that we're both terrible at communicating, I hope that we can improve together as a couple."

“Oh."

Although Virgil may not have realized it, Logan noticed as he lightly brushed his thumb over his hand. It was stupidly endearing and soft, just as Virgil was.

"That's probably the cutest thing anyone's ever said that slightly regards me."

"Glad I can be of service, darling."

"So darling is what you go with?"

"Would you prefer something else?"

"...No. If I can call you my boyfriend you can call me whatever you want." Virgil smiled. "…You're my boyfriend. That's nice to say."

"It is. I wonder how I stumbled upon a boyfriend as good as you."

"You- you need to stop doing that," Virgil blushed.

"I'm not doing anything!" Logan shifted closer to him, for heating purposes of course, it was a little chilly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You know full well."

"Do I really, Virgil?"

"Shut up and look at the stars."

"Make me."

"Logan I swear-"

"Fine, fine, I will." Virgil mumbled thanks under his breath. "But they aren't as pretty as you."

Virgil let out a noise, a mix between a screech and a cough. There was no way he was showing Logan how fluttery his words made his heart feel. (Although he felt it was common knowledge among them.)

"There's around twenty minutes until the others get back, that's twenty minutes to mess with you."

"I'm already regretting this, Lo."

"As you should, my love."

Yes, their friends may have interrupted their stargazing a few minutes later. Yes, Roman may have forced Patton to leave his shift early resulting in one too little seats and an angry boss. Yes, they may have almost ran out of gas on the way home. Yes, they may have bought fries as Janus looked for a gas station. Yes, they may have fallen onto the floor seconds later. Yes, Remus may have jumped out of the car afterwards because he said it looked fun and almost sprained his ankle. And yes, Roman did have to explain the situation five times to his parents because they couldn't stop laughing about all the shenanigans they got into that night.

Still, Virgil's arm stayed around Logan's waist like it was the most casual thing in the world. Still, they shared a milkshake once everyone had given up on the fallen fries. Still, they were both filled with such a bright happiness that it was impossible to drag them down. And maybe they fell asleep on a video call that night. Or maybe Logan stayed over and they woke up with their limbs tangled in each other's, feeling content and appreciative of the other as they slowly woke up. Honestly, who's to say? It was just a good night.

#analogical #logan sanders #virgil sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #hope y'all enjoyed this because I'm kinda proud of it #love you sil #ts logan #ts virgil #also yeah i have a taglist tell me if you want to be added #pen throws away a pen

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ziaxkawaii · 5 years ago

Text

“Thank you...” (Bakugou x Reader)

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Warnings: Cursing.

Summary: Bakugou is passed out so you carry him to his dorm.

Part 1 Part 2

-“God he’s heavy!!!” You grunted as you stopped for a second to get a better grip of the boy on your back.

-Currently you were walking back from the training grounds right before curfew, and you were practically dragging you feet across the pavement while you carried unconscious Bakugou as gently and lightly as possible.

~You had his body on your back, carrying him in a piggyback style. One of his arms was thrown over your left shoulder and his head rested on your right one, while you held his thighs.

~Your muscles were sore from the earlier excessive training. Your arms and back were littered with burns and bruises, and your tired legs could hardly carry the weight of your body and also your friends slightly heavier body.

~He wasn’t doing any better though. He too had bruises and few tiny cuts from your attacks as well. And of course the obvious, he was out cold like a drunk person.

~If you had to explain everything that happened just 15 minutes ago in a nutshell, simply you and Bakugou were sparing together in the school gym area and as you were throwing punches and kicks at each other, Bakugou had said something that especially got on your nerves and you accidentally kicked him in the back of the head a little too hard, and he was out like a light.

~Whatever you did, he wouldn’t wake up. You couldn’t just leave him there or wait for him to wake up since you had a curfew. So you opted to just carry him back to the dorms, and it was way harder than you thought.

~The 1-A heights alliance building came in to your view, and you sighed out of relief but also out of nervousness.

~What if Bakugou woke up before you could get him to his room and he gets angry at you for literally trying to help him!?

~This boy was full of pride and didn’t want anyone's help even if he needed it. So if he woke up to see you carrying him like some kid, you probably would have an extra bruise by the end of the night.

~You weren’t ready to be blasted all the way to hell just yet.

~Even so, as much as he seemed to act like a villain in some people eyes. You and some other people like Kirishima saw through his facade.

~Bakugou just didn’t know how to connect with people since his pride was in the way and how growing up everybody basically worshiped and praised his stupidly powerful quirk and intelligence.

~It didn’t matter if a person is shy, happy, angry, evil or neutral, everyone needs someone to talk to and a person to call a friend. Or in Bakugou's case: an Extra.

~You were one of the people he ‘tolerated’. You and him would talk about topics that came in to mind, study silently or just bicker to each other about something irrelevant.

~It was nice in it’s own weird way.

~People are kind of like a puzzles. Some puzzles aren’t as easy they seem and you have to learn to understand how to solve it before actually doing so. Or you could do both simultaneously, and enjoy the in betweens of the journey.

~Bakugou was just a really hard one that tested your patience and your own temper.

~Even after all the headaches and insults that this boy threw at you, your friends and classmates. You still couldn’t deny your attraction towards him.

~Hell, he was good looking, talented and passionate about what he does, plus he was such a softy on the inside if people took the time to actually observe. Goodness why did he have to be so perfect at everything! It was getting on your nerves!!!

~Still, you pushed your own thoughts aside and continued on with your life as normal. You were happy and your presence didn’t seem to irritate him, so you accepted the reality and were grateful of what you had.

~You walked up the small stairway up to one of the class 1-A dormitory doors and with each step you were almost shitting your pants when Bakugou let out pained groans as if he was gonna be awake soon.

~Sure you were friends. But it didn’t mean you weren’t at least a little bit nervous around him.

~You reached the front door and attempted to open the door while trying not to drop the male on your back. You pulled down the handle, only to realize it’s locked.

~”Fuck…” You cursed silently.

~You did have your keys, you always do. But they were in your back pocket, and your were in no position to get them unless you wanted to wake up your friend and face his wrath.

~You tried awkwardly knocking on the door with your foot and knee, but it didn’t work too well. You took the risk and knocked on the door like a human being and quickly retreated it back to hold Bakugou's other leg.

~After a few moments, you heard movement from the inside and the door opened soon after. You were met with a blond haired teen whose quirk reflected in his hair as a form of a black lightning bolt.

~Kaminari looked at you two for a second before stepping aside and opening the door wider, allowing you to get in.

~”Just what were you two do-?” He began but you caught him off as you stepped inside.

~”It’s definitely not what you may think, so don’t even say it.”

~”Then what-” The poor boy was caught off again, but by Kirishima.

~”Whoa… what happened to Bakubro? He Is totally out of it!” Kirishima came out of nowhere and started gently poke Bakugou's cheek to see if what he said was actually real.

~”Don’t wake him up!” You whisper shouted. All the commotion had got some students attention in to common area and it was getting kinda embarrassing when you thought about it from their perspective. “I don’t want to be his next punching back, so can you please quiet down.”

~”Okay okay, but back to what I asked, what happened?” You sighed.

~”Long story short. We were sparing and I accidentally kicked him in the head hard.” You explained. “He should be fine.” At least you hoped he was fine.

~”Wow, well this is a first! Nobody's ever been able to get that kind of hit at Bakugou! I think you deserve a metal.” Mina elbowed you lightly in the arm as a testing manner.

~Seriously. The bomb is bound to explode soon if your classmates don’t keep it down.

~”Guys, let’s just get him to his room, QUIETLY before he-” It was too late. Bakugou began stirring in his sleep and let out more pained grunts. Your friends all held their breath as they realized they might’ve messed up, while you were just standing there with sweat forming on your forehead.

~’Please don’t be mad…’ You prayed. And as if the spirit heard you, Bakugou in fact didn’t wake up but was half asleep, and mumbling gibberish in your shoulder.

~You mouthed “Let’s just go.” to Kirishima and he nodded. You began to move again but stopped abruptly as you felt an arm snake around your torso and a second one hug your neck. Everyone present watched the scene in awe as Bakugou clung to you like a child to a stuffed animal.

~”So… soft…” He mumbled in your neck.

~You blushed profusely while some people around you gave either shocked or smirking faces. The latter was more prominent.

~Oh, you were in deep now.

~You and Kirishima swiftly rode the elevator up to the correct floor and Kirishima opened Bakugou's door to let you carry him inside.

~”So… warm…” Bakugou kept on mumbling again but seemed like he still hasn’t woken up, or enough so to remember anything after today, at the very least.

~”Okay, it’s time to rest now Bakugou. Let go.” You said as you walked over to the said boys bed and sat on it. Kirishima helped you pry Bakugou’s limbs off of you and you were finally free. You went to get up but you were stopped midway when a hand grabbed your wrist.

~”Where… you going…?” Bakugou whispered with his eyes closed.

~Is this the same Bakugou you’ve gone to school with and hung out on your free time? Because in any other case where you would have found him like this from somewhere, you would’ve been convinced this Bakugou was a decoy. Or...

~”He kinda reminds me of a drunk person.” Kirishima boldly blurted out.

~’Or that…’ You would have laughed but right now it felt wrong to do so, so you just ended up nodding that you were thinking the same thing.

~Before you two actually left the common room, Kirishima had grabbed a cold gel pack from the freezer to press on the injured boys head. He stepped closer and pressed the pack carefully on the spot you pointed out. The blond boy hissed a bit but didn’t wake up, let alone let go of your hand.

~”Do you think he’s going to be alright?” Kirishima asked next to you.

~”I don’t think this will cause anything critical. I didn’t kick him that hard but surely enough to form a bump.” You explained. “Plus, he’s been really tired lately for some reason, so he’ll probably sleep in tomorrow. I’ll take him to recovery girl tomorrow just in case. Hell, I’ll even drag him there if he wont cooperate.”

~”If you say so, and thanks for caring for him.”

~”He’s my friend too you know. Of course I would care for him.”

~”Yea, but I just said it so that you would at least get a ‘thank you’. You know how he is.” The crimson haired boy motioned to the ash blond.

~”I know.”

~”.....” Bakugou groaned and mumbled something coherent again and it got both of your attention. He pulled on your wrist for you to get closer and you complied, shifting a little closer so you could hear what he had to say.

~”Thank you… babe...” He said and let his head fall onto his pillow, at last getting some precious sleep. You became a blushing mess while Kirishima did his damn hardest to not laugh too loudly, so he resorted to snickering like some spray window cleaner bottle.

~”Wha -What did he just-!!” You whisper shouted, not knowing how to react.

~”I knew it…” Kirishima whispered to himself proudly. He may be a bit weaker in school but he was an expert when it came to knowing his friends and peers.

~You gently but swiftly untangled Bakugou's fingers from your wrist, stood up to pull his blanket over him so he wouldn’t get cold and left the room in a hurry with Kirishima trailing right behind you.

~The said boy was still snickering while you hid your red face in your hands. You already felt embarrassed from the comment alone but Kirishima being there made it two times worse.

~’I’m so dead.’

~”Please, don’t tell the others Kiri.” You pleaded. The red head smiled.

~”My lips are sealed (y/n).

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #mha x reader #mha fanfiction #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #katsuki bakugou x reader #bnha imagines #mha imagines #x reader #xreader

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wonderlustlucas · 5 years ago

Text

four - hwang hyunjin

⇢ prompt They say good things come in fours. Who? Couldn’t tell you, but they especially do during Christmas. Maybe that’s just Saint Nick. ⇢ pairing hyunjin x female reader ⇢ word count 11.7k ⇢ genre fluff ⇢ warnings swearing. mentions of alcohol & s e x. teenagerz being teenagerz. insane amount of fluff & stupidity. kind of ends w a smutty cliffhanger. ⇢ summary After suppressing how you felt about Hyunjin back in high school, you thought you were done going back on your feelings. Turns out, a little time apart, the spirit of Christmas, and an accidental nap is the perfect cocktail for falling in love with your best friend.—friends to lovers!au ⇢ a/n hello & merry christmas! here is a gift for you all on this very merry day. also, thank you for 1,000 followers! that in itself is one of the best presents i could ask for. thank you for all your kindness & support on my blog & for following me in the first place! it truly means so much to me. i hope you enjoy reading! ♥︎

big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇[now] Sorry! I just woke up

big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇[now] Whats wrong fool

big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇[now] Did u rlly think 12 texts were gonna wake me up?🤦🏻‍♂️ godt damn u on some WACK shit

You roll your eyes in time with each consecutive text that Hyunjin sends, waiting for the lock screen of your phone to blacken after reading them. He’s about as useless as pedals on a wheelchair, you think, ignoring the texts and forcing the device into the snug back pocket of your jeans before transferring the last two excessively packed grocery bags into the trunk of your car with an exhausted huff. Christ, if the bagging lady put one more item in those bags, she would be the one to blame for six cans of soup rolling about the parking lot.

The license plate rattles when you slam the trunk lid closed before hurrying around to the driver’s side and anxiously hopping inside to start blasting the heat. It is obnoxiously chilly for the first of September. Well, not really. Your body is just beginning to get used to the ungodly wrath of summer’s sweltering heat leaving you in a constant state of sweat and nausea for the past three months. Not that you’re complaining, of course. You nearly did somersaults of joy when the morning news reported a temperature of sixty-one degrees with some wind gusts and welcomed the beginning signs of autumn with open arms.

You would never admit to Mom who told yo uon the way out to change out of a tank top or at least wear a jacket, but yes— you are, in fact, cold. But now you have godsent warmth blowing from the vents and the seat warmer on its highest setting beginning to thaw away the goosebumps painted on your skin. Giving your arms one last rub, you lean up enough to retrieve your phone and open the conversation with Hyunjin.

[2:37 PM] YN: please. smell my balls

[2:37 PM] YN: nothings wrong btw. i was GOING to ask if u wanted any specific snacks for tn buttttt someone didn’t answer

[2:37 PM] YN: and excuse u i called too. i may be an idiot but im not stupid

[2:38 PM] YN: ik u would never hear a text when ur having wet dreams of yeji

You stop there with a smug smirk when the three dots on his side appear, knowing you’ve hit his funny bone with this one.

[2:38 PM] big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇: Bruh

[2:38 PM] big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇 :I’ve literally never have had a wet dream ab Yeji pls stop

You cannot fight your shit-eating grin, thumbs circling over the keyboard in thought as he apparently deletes whatever other text he was going to send when the three dots disappear.

[2:38 PM] YN: mmhmmmm

[2:38 PM] YN: because last time you slept over you weren’t whimpering her name in ur sleep

[2:38 PM] YN: sureeeee

You decide to end your teasing there and continue once you’re home. It is starting to get late, after all, and Mom will begin to worry that the creepy employee always in aisle sixteen has abducted you. Plus, you’re cruel and like to watch Hyunjin suffer. Switching the ringer off, you throw your phone into the cupholder and drastically lower the heat and turn off the seat warmer. It’s starting to feel like a sauna in here, and not in a fun way. Can’t understand how anyone enjoys hanging out in a sauna to begin with anyway, but to each their own, you guess.

In the five-minute drive it takes until you are pulling into the driveway, Hyunjin calls three times. He is incredibly peeved at your lack of a response to his distressed texts and still wound up from your text about Yeji. As if! You’re already a clown not realizing his ever-growing affections for you, but to think he had a crush on Yeji? You’re the whole damn circus!

By the time he calls a fifth time, now sat up on his elbow in bed and strumming an annoyed beat of his fingers at his thigh because he really just wants to yell at you for being the most annoying person alive (and maybe to hear your voice, too), you have brought in the last of the bags and look to Mom who has started to put the groceries away and expects you to half-heartedly do the same.

“It’s Hyunjin. He’s having an existential crisis because I haven’t answered his texts,” you explain to her, unenthusiastically holding your phone as it vibrates against your palm. Half of you wants her to ask to finish putting everything away first just so you can torture him even longer. Alas, such extravagant wishes are denied, because when it comes to Hyunjin, your parents would undoubtedly throw you under the bus just to keep that boy happy. And so, just like any other time, Mom’s undying love for Hyunjin has her dismissing you from the kitchen with a hearty laugh.

“Jesus Christ! What?” You hiss, halfway up the stairs when you tap to answer his call on the last ring.

“Wow! Look who finally decided to answer!” Hyunjin shouts back, the swoosh of his sheets once he finally falls back against his pillow again rustling all too loudly through the phone. “I was driving,” you spit, marching into your bedroom and collapsing against your bed, the same rustle of your blankets sounding loudly into his ear. “There’s a thing called the speaker, ___. Ever heard of it?” He retorts, evidently shutting you up and he knows he won this round if your silence is anything to go by.

“Whatever,” you groan, using all your toe strength to kick the sneakers off your feet by their soles, “what was so important that you couldn’t wait and had to call me five billion times?”

“I had a question. And you hurt my feelings.” Well, shit. You can practically hear and see his pout through the phone and your heart positively swells in your chest at how undeniably, unjustifiably cute he is. You sigh.

“I’m sorry for making fun of you about Yeji. I’m going to do it again but next time I promise I won’t pull the wet dream card,” you apologize frankly; because, in all honesty, it would be worse to say you are not going to do it again when you most certainly will. Bullying Hyunjin is fun, what can you say?

Hyunjin heaves an exasperated breath from his lungs because he knows there is no point in arguing with quite possibly the most sarcastic human he knows and that’s the best form of an apology he’s going to get. Whatever. He’ll make sure to wipe his morning snot and droll on your shirt in the morning. “Anyway,” he grumbles, in the background you hear Kkami bark from a few rooms over, “I was going to ask if you wanted to come over my place instead? I know your parents probably want to see me and stuff but mine are out of town for the night so we can sleep in my bed until like three without Mom waking us up to force feed breakfast.” You roll your eyes. Of course your parents want to see him.

“Plus, Mom just put that grey comforter I know you really like on my bed so we can cuddle all night and watch stuff on YouTube,” he quickly adds as a convincing afterthought. He’s really got his sales pitch going on this one. Truth is, you have only slept in his bed with that stupidly soft blanket twice last winter break, but it’s still sweet that he remembers how much you loved it (aka how quickly you fell asleep and how grumpy you were being woken up because it’s just that darn cozy). Either way, you would never pass up an opportunity to snuggle up with Hyunjin in the comfort of his own bed with his citrusy, floral scent on the pillows luring you to sleep.

“My Mom is going to be heartbroken, Hyunjin,” you tease, “but who cares. You had me sold at sleeping until three. Do you still want me to bring the snacks I got?”

“Oh, thank God. I love your Mom’s cooking but I haven’t left bed all day and I really want to keep it that way. And yes, please. I’ve been eating dry cereal for the past two hours.”

“Hyunjin, have you brushed your teeth yet?”

“No. Didn’t you just hear me? I said I’ve been in bed all day. Eating cereal. When would I have brushed my teeth?”

“You’ve officially taken breakfast in bed to a whole new level, Jin. I’ll see you in a few hours. Oh, and please, you have no concept of personal space so make sure you brush your teeth before I come over.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Love ya, bye,” Hyunjin promptly hangs up, probably eager to get back to binging whatever drama he’s watching before you lecture him about his hygiene again. Not that it matters, anyway; chances are, it went in one ear and right out the other and you’re going to drag him out of bed later to brush his teeth.

Damn. You didn’t even get the chance to say love you back. Not that it matters.

It doesn’t, you quickly shut down the pesky thought that keeps you up at night and force it back into the storage part of your brain labeled ‘Deal with Later,’ because, really, you’ll have to think about that later. It’s not that you don’t want to think about it yet… you just don’t have the time to stop and really figure out what your feelings toward Hyunjin actually are. Yeah. That’s it.

And now isn’t the time, you tell yourself, scooting up the mattress in order to bury your face in the pillows to suffocate the pounding throb in your head. Hyunjin is nothing special.

Well, no. That’s a lie. Everything about Hyunjin is special. Anyone with eyes, ears, even a nose can sense that. You had quickly found out just how wonderful he is when you met him freshman year of high school. At the time, he was everyone’s sweetheart by the first day, but it just so happened his eyes were all on you.

He was obviously adorable, and every class you had together he always made a point to talk to you and returned your sarcasm with an impressive level of expertise. So, when it came to him asking you to the first homecoming, the answer was yes without a second thought. But during the last slow dance of the night, with his hands gently holding your waist, he at last listened to his conscience and revealed that as much as he liked you, he truly did not want to date in high school. Or right then, at least. And honestly, you were glad; Hyunjin was quite possibly your favorite person you had met thus far, and you would have rather kept him as a friend than commit to a relationship the second month of school and risk losing him later down the road.

And boy, keep him as a friend you did. As it turned out, Hyunjin grew to be your truest, best friend in high school. Sure, you each had your own friend groups, but the two of you were the iconic pair everybody knew. But strictly platonic, despite the rumors and wishes that went around for the next four years. You like to think that neither of you ever developed feelings past what everyone feels toward their best friend— an innocent, wholesome sort of love.

But when had things changed? Hormones, as always, were definitely a big part of it. Hyunjin was always a cutie, but it wasn’t until he grew into his own skin and developed a newfound confidence did you start to see him differently. Until everyone saw him differently. Neither of you missed the way people stared him down, pupils dilating every time he ran his fingers through the black tufts of his hair, hearts aching for some sort of interaction. Or when you started attending parties, groups of girls would fling themselves at him in a blundering disarray, most of which he would turn down with a gentle dismissal that flew over their heads, too drunk to actually care.

But then there were times his dick made the decision for him, desperation and deprivation weighing in on him and you’d watch with a tight jaw as he’d leave the room with the pretty girl of the night skipping after him. You never realized it was only on those nights did you wind up in the back seat of Han Jisung’s car.

But even after the physical attraction sizzled out over time, things were not the same. Hyunjin wasn’t your hidden little treasure anymore. All eyes were set on him and it took more than a glass of water to swallow your jealousy. But why? Why were you so resentful all of a sudden?

It’s hard to share Hwang Hyunjin, you decided. Once established that you were his main hoe and he was yours, it became a significant burden watching others try and get in between. Not that they did it with a malicious attempt to separate you, but it still hurt. You’re selfish, and you admit it— Hyunjin, quite frankly, is the love of your life. Romantic or not, nothing could change your feelings toward him. It goes beyond his unfathomable beauty and spunky personality. Everything about him from his nose to his hands, to his distaste for onions and the way his face scrunches up when he lets out that giggle of his and even to the way he prefers to sleep against the wall but will force you to when you’re over so he can “protect you in case there’s a monster” all mount into this big, giant section of your heart set aside for Hyunjin.

So despite your efforts to ignore the pang of jealousy each time he would find a potential someone or the joy whenever he’d find his way back because “they kept wanting to hang out in the morning even though I said I don’t wake up before noon,” this Hyunjin-shaped hole in your heart seems to only grow the longer you ignore it. Kind of like every medical condition out there: the longer you ignore it, the worse it gets. So, basically Hyunjin is your heart disease.

Yikes. Sounds a lot worse when you try putting it into words.

Well, he won’t be your heart defect for long if he keeps ruining those pearly whites of his by only brushing once just before bed, you chuckle to yourself, rolling to your side at the sudden lack of oxygen between your face and the pillow. There’s a fleeting moment without thought when you unconsciously reach for your phone to check for any notifications before the fattest revelation of them all falls from the ceiling and smacks you right upside the face.

Shit. Looks like you’ve gone right ahead and totally dissected each and every fiber of your feelings for Hyunjin.

Blinking up at the ceiling, the weight of your emotions isn’t as heavy as you expected them to be. Instead, it’s more of a breath of fresh air, as if you have finally accepted the way things fell instead of ignoring them. Your feelings for Hyunjin have always been there. It just took a little effort to get them out.

Nevertheless, it is going to be difficult hanging out with him in a few hours with your exposed emotions still needing to be processed. Especially when he will pull you to his side and keep you nestled there the entire night. Rubbing your temples, you realize it will take some serious self-control to put everything on the back burner and just enjoy the time spent with Hyunjin.

Sighing, you check the time on your phone again. 3:21 and a text from Hyunjin asking if you could bring green tea.

“Mom!” You yell, defeated. “You were right!”

You used to think Hyunjin lived far away. Truthfully, he’s only fifteen minutes away if you go ten over the speed limit. But the only way to get to his house entails driving through the chaos of the mall and town center, which adds an extra ten minutes sitting through traffic no matter the time of day.

Now, Hyunjin’s college campus is two hours away. Well, technically five from you, since you’re almost three hours away in the opposite direction. So you’re lucky if you get to see him once a month with how hectic school becomes and how difficult it is trying to plan to come home the same weekend. Fortunately, it has worked out this semester. And while you should spend this time with your families, they know how much you crave one another’s company as the weeks drag on. The twenty-two minutes it takes getting to each other’s homes is totally worth it.

You expect Hyunjin to tell you to use the key hidden underneath the resin meditating frog statue in the front garden to unlock the front door when you text him you have arrived, but to your utmost surprise, he’s there, awake, to open the door for you.

“Stinky!” You yell, dropping your things on the floor to burry yourself in his embrace, standing on your tippy toes to wrap your arms around his neck in order to really get the full experience of hugging your favorite giant. “Poopy!” He shouts in return, long arms winding tightly around your waist and even going so far as to lift you up a few inches. God. Hate when he does that.

“Why are you up? I thought I’d have to let myself in with you sleeping all your problems away,” you ask, smiling gratefully when he bends down to pick up your bag. “I realized Kkami hadn’t been out all day, so I came down to let him out and find actual food,” Hyunjin explains as he makes way into the kitchen, opening the back door to let said dog back inside. “Aw, poor thing,” you pout, squatting to scratch at Kkami’s neck when he zooms faster than the speed of light to you, “does that mean you brushed your teeth?”

“I did, actually,” Hyunjin snorts right back, scrunching his nose at you before turning away to open the fridge. Sitting on the floor with Kkami in your lap, you take the opportunity to finally get a good look at Hyunjin now that he’s distracted. And of course, he looks good. Really good. Last time you saw him he still was a brunette, a look he rocked during the spring and summer months. This is the first time you’ve seen the freshly dyed black hair in person. Even though he always looks handsome, something about Hyunjin with black hair completely changes his aura. Brings back memories of how badly you wanted him in high school. You shiver at the thought.

And, to top it all off, how he manages to stay in such disgustingly good shape despite his atrocious eating habits never ceases to amaze you. Like, come on. The boy eats worse than a raccoon seven days out of the week, lives off boba, works out maybe five times a month, dances in his free time and still keeps his body in tiptop shape. God, you hate him. His pediatrician probably hates him, too. You even go as far as to sniff the fries in your dining hall and you gain five pounds.

Even now, he looks unnecessarily regal in the baggy material of his sweatpants and flannel. And the warmth of his kitchen’s ambient lighting does nothing to suppress the heavy thumping of your heart. So casual is his dress, yet how immaculate he looks rummaging the cabinets for a snack.

“Are you hungry?” He asks, the familiar softness of his voice shaking you from your daze as he closes the refrigerator door after his unsuccessful search. Here’s the thing: you really aren’t hungry, but Hyunjin clearly is, so if you say no then all he will be thinking about is food until you decide that you are hungry. “Yeah,” is what you say, nudging Kkami off your crossed legs to stand, “I brought green tea and a few snacks, but we could order Chinese food or something. The place near Dunkin’ and the gas station makes bubble tea now, too.”

Hyunjin’s brows shoot up, flashing his boxy smile. “Is it good?”

“I mean, I’ve only had their pork dumplings and mango tea before, and it was pretty good. I don’t know about their noodles or anything, though,” you shrug, moving to stand beside him at the kitchen island. Distracted by Kkami trying to jump onto the sofa in the living room, you don’t look to Hyunjin until the poor dog is successful in doing so. Startled to find him already gazing down at you, your heart truly is not prepared for him to go right ahead and wrap his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. Totally not freaking out or trying to overthink his need to constantly cling, you justify his actions by quickly recalling the time he said, “My head is too godtdamn big for my godtdamn body.” More like his head is too heavy because instead of a brain it’s just a chunk of cement up there. He just needs to rest his head sometimes.

Yeah.

“Mm, I don’t know,” Hyunjin hums, swaying your body with his to an unheard tune. By now, any coherent thought has dissipated into thin air and all you can do is melt against him. “Why?” You manage.

“’Cus if we order anything that means I’ll have to get up and get it.”

“Oh my God, Hyunjin, really?” You laugh. Your hands naturally glide to where his are linked at your stomach, pressing to interlock your fingers overtop his. “If that’s the only reason for your uncertainty than I could always come get it, idiot.”

“No! It’s okay,” Hyunjin says, jumping back before you can even process it, “I’m not that hungry anyway.”

“Ohhh ‘kay,” you laugh breathlessly, whiplashed by the whole thing. Good thing you aren’t hungry, because when was the last time Hyunjin turned down food? Blinking at him precariously, he doesn’t seem to notice until one too many seconds of silence pass by.

“C’mon,” he demands excitedly, jumping back into reality, “my roommate told me to watch this anime called Soul Eater but I wanted to watch it with you.” Once again, before anything can even register past every single That Was Cute™ alarm ringing in your brain, Hyunjin is grabbing your bag and reaching for your hand, leading you out of the kitchen and upstairs.

You and Hyunjin binge aforementioned anime until he falls asleep first around 2 AM, only stopping to order food an hour in (he’s an indecisive man indeed), to get up to retrieve it, and to actually eat while catching up. For most of the night, you are able to forget the way his heartbeat against your back mirrored your own in the kitchen. But then, a little while after you fall asleep yourself, Hyunjin unconsciously shifts closer and you spend another hour blinking at his relaxed hand twitching against your abdomen, trying to keep the hurricane inside your heart at bay.

You can’t make it home October. Hyunjin texted you to let you know he was going to be the third weekend in, and you tried desperately to manage your time in order to make it work. But one group project in chem lead to another paper in psych and before you knew it, your roommate was listening to you sob over a boy and curse out your classes.

September left you emotionally wrecked, to be totally honest. You hate Hyunjin and you hate the way he makes you feel and you especially hate how realizing you have a crush on him makes you unsure if everything he does is his way of hinting he feels the same or if he’s always been this touchy and you are just now recognizing it. So, missing a month of seeing your favorite human being essentially means missing another day of trying to decipher which actions of his go in the Friend list, and which go in the Questionable list. And that, my friend, is unacceptable.

You absolutely cannot not go home this month. November is the calm before the storm (the storm being exams looming the second week of December), and while it would be beneficial maybe staying on campus to continue preparing, you tell yourself going home will be just as helpful. Mental breaks, and stuff. Totally not just to see Hyunjin.

Either way, Hyunjin asks you if you would join him on the seventeenth to go to his second cousin’s christening and you absolutely cannot say no when you know how bored Hyunjin gets at family events when they aren’t for him. And so, fast forward to the third Sunday of November and you are ready to pass out ten minutes after entering the church.

“I’m so happy for you two! I always knew you would last into college,” one of Hyunjin’s aunts exclaims, pinching your cheeks but the only pinch you feel is that of your heart.

Clearly she is misinformed, or just prone to jumping to conclusions but yet again, you can’t really blame her with how couple-y you and Hyunjin are. Past the single tunnel vision of your gaze, you watch her smile falter when Hyunjin goes rigid beside you and oh my God this is the most embarrassing moment of my life, his whole family thinks we’re dating and here we are still stuck in each other’s friendz—

“I’m glad you think so, imo,” Hyunjin suddenly picks up, sneaking an arm around to rest his hand on your hip, tugging you close, “I don’t know what I’ll do if she ever decides to leave me.”

It’s nice to think that he means it, to imagine that you are here not as a tag-along but to join him in a family ceremony because you are part of the family. The thought turns your blood to sugar and everything surrounding you falls apart; you listen to the rest of their conversation without processing it, the precise detailing in the marble pillars blurs into a mass of white, and you still feel his strong hold on the curve of your waist yet you are lost in the swam of possibilities.

How lovely it would be to live up to her assumption. To ‘last into college’ as a couple, not as best friends. To be able to call him yours even when you’re not together, to come home and kiss his lips, to sleep in his bed and it mean more than the laziness of blowing up the air mattress. At some point, he leads you into the third pew to sit beside his parents, and when you greet them with a hug all you can think about is them viewing you as more than their son’s friend.

God, you hate it.

You’re not as religious as Hyunjin and his family. But for the first time in years, you find yourself looking to the crucifix during the service and praying to whoever is up there to give you some strength and patience, because Lord do you need it.

Hyunjin is a funny guy.

Or so he thinks.

It’s not that he isn’t funny. It’s just— compared to your friends Minho or Changbin, he isn’t at the top of the list. When you think of Hyunjin, the first words that pop up are soft, loud, and dramatic.

It’s not that he isn’t funny. He’s just weird.

Insanely, ridiculously weird. For example, the time he called Jeongin a vitamin. Or the time he slapped half a bottle of sunscreen on his face. Or his random bouts of dancing at inappropriate moments. Just to name a few.

After the Baptism, Hyunjin acted like nothing happened. Didn’t even bring it up. Not even a joke. After the ceremony, you joined his family for a luncheon, which just involved the two of you being weird and making peculiar dancing videos on SnapChat with the swirly filter and complaining about school for a few hours until he drove you home. Obviously you stopped for food again on the way.

But that was it. Things went on as normal, and you returned to campus later that night and forced the whole experience to the back of your brain. It was officially grind season, and grind season meant studying for exams. No parties. No boys. And certainly no Hyunjin.

You both were home for winter break in the blink of an eye. And in normal Hyunjin style, he sort of vanished for the first week. Probably catching up on his strict sleeping schedule, you presumed, and accepted the fact that it was going to be a few days before you saw or even heard from him. The only anticipation you felt was wanting to give him his Christmas gift.

After what seems like an eternity away from Hyunjin, you get out of the shower on this fine Saturday before Christmas to find a slew of texts from him.

[5:52 PM] big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇: Aloha mamacita

[5:52 PM] big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇: How do u feel about getting froyo tn

[5:52 PM] big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇: We can get fat and then u can sleepover aaaand

[5:52 PM] big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇: We can stare at the wall for a few hours

[5:52 PM] big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇: And

[5:53 PM] big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇: *cough*

[5:53 PM] big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇: Exchange Jesus gifts

See? Weird. Who wants froyo when it’s thirty degrees out?

[5:53 PM] YN: “aloha mamacita”

[5:53 PM] YN: uHmmmMMM

[5:53 PM] YN: im down mr president

[5:54 PM] YN: why do u want ice cream in winter tho. don’t u want like

[5:54 PM] YN: hot chocolate or seomthing

Obviously not. Two hours later, Hyunjin arrives to pick you up for froyo despite all your efforts in convincing him maybe you could take the train to the city and watch a light show, or simply drive around and swoon over the rich people houses and their Christmas decorations. He didn’t budge. This leads you to your second question of the day: why is it that when you threw on sweats for the occasion you called yourself a hag, but upon entering Hyunjin’s car you make a mental note of how hot he looks when he’s wearing the same exact thing? You groan at the thought. It’s because it’s Hyunjin, of course.

“Bonjour, mademoiselle,” he greets, flicking your forehead once you settle into the seat of his Subaru WRX because he’s a hotshot and likes to flex that he can drive a manual. Not really— the car is absolute garbage by now, having been his Dad’s old car (his Dad likes to flex too, apparently). However, Hyunjin takes care of it enough for it to seem five years old instead of ten, and, either way, watching him work the stick shift is unexplainably hot.

You swat his hand away. “Drive, bitch,” you huff, twisting to buckle yourself in. Once he’s reversed out of your driveway, you glance back to find him fighting against a devilish smirk.

“So,” you start once he has navigated out of your neighborhood. His brow twitches up. “Are you taking Hawaiian and French at school? You’ve been throwing quite a lot of languages at me recently.” Hyunjin shoots you an unamused look. You return it with a wrinkle of your nose.

“Anyway,” he ignores your teasing, pausing to switch gears for whatever reason so he can make it through a yellow light, “how did your exams go?”

“Well, you know…” You trail off, looking to your window. It feels a lot later than eight o’clock. With it getting dark so early in the evening nowadays, it feels as if nighttime is always following you.

“You know… what?” Hyunjin interrupts your daze, concern laced in his voice. “They were fine. I passed everything, I’m just worried about my major,” you explain sadly, barely glancing at him before you are turning back to the window to stare at the moon. Must be nice being a moon. Just get to hang out in the sky watching everyone and being watched.

“I mean, if you want to switch, now’s the time. Better do it now before the second semester,” Hyunjin advises, wise as always. Not really, but he’s right. “What are you thinking of going into?”

Yikes. He’s going to kill you.

“Nursing,” you blurt.

“Oh my Lanta, ___, are you serious?” He groans, stopping at a convenient red light presenting the perfect opportunity for him to smack his forehead on the wheel. Dramatic. “How are you gonna manage that? You’ll practically be two years behind everyone else!”

“I know,” you sigh, throwing your head back on the headrest, “that’s the problem. Bio just isn’t doing it for me. I don’t think I can spend the rest of my life in a lab watching mitosis. I need something more rewarding, so theoretically nursing is a perfect start. I don’t know, though.”

“Why don’t you switch to interior design or something? We could get our own HGTV show, ___,” he says, but you don’t meet his gaze when he glances over because beneath his words, you can sense some serious hopefulness. Interior design would be cool, but you’ve never considered that as a career choice. You once helped your parents pick out everything when they redid a bathroom at home and that turned out great, but as a major?

“I don’t know, man. I’ll have to talk to my counselor about it, I guess,” you shrug, pulling the hood of your sweatshirt over your head and tightening the drawstrings until the material covers your eyes, “why can’t you audition to be a K-pop star or something? I could be your manager. Heck, even your makeup artist. I’ve done your makeup before, remember?”

Hyunjin laughs, loud, and the sound sinks deep into your heart and makes you feel warm all over. Stress? Gone.

For the next few minutes or so, the ride is comfortably quiet. At some point, he turns on the radio and Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas Is You” floods your brain and reminds you to look forward to exchanging Christmas gifts later. God, you hope he likes it. You really went out on the sentimental gifts this year.

Hood shielding your vision, you jump when his large hand suddenly comes to grab the top of your head, squeezing hard and you imagine he’s trying to press some hopefulness into your brain. “Hand on the penis stick, Hwang,” you bark, blindly reaching for his own head across the way and pulling his ear when you do so. Good Lord, you hope no one can see into the car because… what.

Hyunjin lets out a giggle this time, reaching to pull you into a headlock and even though he’s got your head shoved up against his sturdy chest and goes on to give you a noogie, you’re stuck being all high and loopy on the sound of his happiness. And hey, it’s nice to know you’re the cause of it.

“We’re literally parked, idiot. If you had your hood down you would’ve realized,” Hyunjin snickers, releasing you after watching you struggle for a few seconds. Jerking away from him, you swiftly pull back your hood. “Oh,” you laugh, reading the flashy Yogo Factory sign above the building in front of you, “you could’ve just told me instead of watching me bask in misery.”

Hyunjin suitably ignores your moaning and groaning by getting out of the car and standing in front of the car, illuminated by the headlights. Why? Why must he look so scrumptious in his black hoodie and grey sweatpants and four-year-old white Nike sneakers? He has no gosh darn right!

After fixing the mess he made of your hair, you at last join him outside the car, shooting him another glare and moving ahead of him to open the shop’s door without waiting for him. “From now on, we have to start texting each other what we’re wearing before we go out, ‘cus this looks a little ri-donk-ulous,” Hyunjin whispers in your ear as you make your way to the cup selection, trying to ignore all the stares you— no, he is getting along the way.

“What do you mean?” You ask, plucking two medium sized cups up before turning to look at him. Then you look down at yourself. Oh. Looks like you’re both wearing the hoodie from junior spirit week. “Nice.” Just Couple Things™!

Back to Hyunjin being weird— why did he drag you all the way out here just to get a cup of chocolate frozen yogurt and maybe half a scoop of peanut butter chips?

Meanwhile, he watches in absolute disgust as you blow through your own dessert. Vanilla yogurt with probably every topping offered because you physically cannot make a decision, especially when they have chunks of cookie dough up there.

“So,” Hyunjin starts, trying not to look you in the eye considering you look like a goblin shoveling globs of diabetes down your throat, “have you talked to Jisung recently?”

You choke on a Fruity Pebble at his inquiry, prompting him to reach across the table and slap your back a few times until your esophagus is cleared. “Ugh,” clearing your throat one last time, you take a few sips of water while shooting him a glare. Jisung? Really? “How dense are you?” You hiss unintentionally.

Hyunjin raises his hands in defense. “Just a question.”

Yeah, just a question. Dumbass. “I mean,” you laugh awkwardly, “not really. We have a streak on Snap and sometimes we’ll talk occasionally but I don’t text him every day or anything. How about you?”

He shrugs, concentrating instead on stirring his yogurt into a goopy mess. “Eh. We still use our group chat a lot but that’s it. He’s too busy making music in Malaysia.”

You chuckle at this, picking out the boba from your own cup and leaving the rest now that it has started to look like something sold at the Chum Bucket. “That sucks,” you offer, not the best at giving him consolidation, you opt for linking your feet around his own in some weird act of intimacy, “isn’t he coming home for the holidays, though? I’m sure you can all have a reunion soon.”

“Yeah, he is,” Hyunjin hums, suddenly too focused on trying to escape your trap under the table. Annoyed Hyunjin is cute. “Stoooop,” he whines, kicking at your shins before breaking into boisterous laughter at your relentlessness, “I will not hesitate to throw this cup at your face.”

“Yeah, right,” you scoff, “I’d like to see you try.”

At this, Hyunjin drops his stupidly long arms beneath the table and easily captures your foot by the ankle, pulling hard enough for you to slip down your side of the booth. “Hyunjin!” You shriek, panicking slightly at your sweaty hand’s insecure grip against the leather. You’re going to fall. You’re going to fall flat on your ass underneath a table at a frozen yogurt place because the boy you like pulled your foot too hard. Fantastic. Ignoring you, he starts to wiggle your shoe off your foot no matter how hard you try to squirm out of his relentless grip. “Stop trying to eat my toes in the middle of Yogo!”

Finally, he releases your foot, letting it fall limp against his thigh.

“God,” you huff, breathless as you squirm back up your seat, cheeks burning ferociously, “you are such an ass.”

Behind the playful smirk he fails to hide, something darker glints in Hyunjin’s eyes and it makes your heart skip a beat. Then, “We should go.” The suggestion makes the heat of your blush scorch even hotter down your neck and you instinctively turn away, only to find the customers on the other side of the shop watching you with just as perturbed looks. Fantastic, part two.

“Okie,” you squeak out, blinking after him in complete and total bewilderment as to what just happened when he gets up to throw his trash away. Whatever. Following after him, you too toss your cup out before quickly finding your hand engulfed by his larger one as he leads you back outside, the sudden sharpness of the cold air bringing tears to your eyes. You desperately want to ask him what that was about, or why he’s acting so sneaky, but you stay silent, too afraid your voice will come out shaky and vulnerable. Instead, you let him tug you into his side and try to keep up with him no matter how badly your knees threaten to buckle with each glance you sneak up at him.

It’s silent when you enter the car, watching warily as he reverses out of the parking spot and maneuvers through the lot. Your heart rate seemingly cannot slow itself down, adrenaline taking the place of oxygen the longer you stare at him, at the concentrated scrunch to his face, at the cute tip of his button nose and at the swell of his lips and you distantly wonder what would happen if you pulled him into a kiss at the next red light.

In the midst of your daydream Hyunjin clears his throat, bringing you back to reality and you realize with a startle that he has caught you. Jesus Christ! What has gotten into you? You mentally smack yourself upside the head, instantly turning away from his cocky little gaze and staring straight ahead in search of something else to focus on. “___,” he sing-songs, slow and sensual and entirely demolishing the walls you have built around yourself. It is at this red light you wish to simply open the door and run.

“Yes?” You manage, wincing at how small your voice sounds and while looking out his window instead of into his eyes, you notice him grip the steering wheel hard enough to turn his knuckles white. The tension is insurmountable, weighing in heavily on your chest and you desperately wish to arrive home, even though that means having to survive the next twelve hours with him. Anything is better than the small confines of his car.

“What do you want to do when we get home?” He asks, cool as a cucumber. You pale. It is a dangerous question and you do not know if he realizes that. “Um,” you cough, scooting to sit up straight, “whatever you want.” You whisper the last part, genuinely petrified because you have absolutely no idea if your brain is twisting everything to make it seem like Hyunjin is flirting or if things are totally normal. No idea.

“Hm,” he offers, tilting his head in thought, “we shall see.”

Yeah. We shall.

The rest of the ride is quiet, comfortably or uncomfortably you cannot say because you are too busy trying to calm the Spongebob burning office scene occurring inside your own head, hopelessly telling yourself that everything is fine, Hyunjin’s fine, you’re fine. Just pretend like nothing happened, you tell yourself when Hyunjin pulls into his driveway with practiced ease. “Ugh,” he groans after retrieving your bag from the back seat, and you watch with a raised brow as he skips up to his porch, yelling, “I have to pee!”

“Begone with you, piss boy,” you tease, holding the screen door open for him as he struggles to unlock the storm door and pulling on one of his hoodie’s drawstrings just to annoy him. “Stop,” he growls, low and playful but nevertheless sending a swarm of butterflies to your tummy. You ignore him. Finally unlocking the door, Hyunjin shoves the keys into his pocket and seizes your wrist, yanking your arm down with enough force to nearly topple you into him. “Why are you being so annoying tonight?” He frowns at you, nose and brows scrunched in irritation and it is only because of his proximity do you finally soften up.

“Sorry,” you pout back, bringing your other hand up to boop his nose, “I just missed ya.”

“Ew,” he snorts, stepping past the threshold and kicking off his shoes. You follow suit, closing the door behind you and clicking the lock into place as Kkami comes sprinting over. “B-R-B,” Hyunjin announces, presumably bouncing away to the bathroom.

“Oh, boy,” you huff, squatting to pick up the fluffy little dog and hugging him close to your chest, “your dad is making my life very difficult.” Pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head, you put Kkami back down and grab your bag before heading upstairs, knowing Hyunjin is going to take his grand old time and probably take a shit while he’s at it. Plus, you’re impatient and dying to take your bra off.

Aside from what light his Gudetama nightlight offers, Hyunjin’s room is ultimately left dark. Here’s the thing: he used to have a lamp on his dresser, but then he took it with him to college and only brings it home for summer because he’s lazy and sleeps the majority of the time he’s home, anyway. Instead, he put up his little remote-controlled Christmas tree in addition to the lava lamp he has beside his bed. Perfect. For Hyunjin, at least.

Switching both of these on, their subtle glow offers just enough to keep you from banging your toe against something. It’s happened one too many times. Hyunjin’s room isn’t messy— he really isn’t a messy person to begin with, but he will reorganize the furniture in his room fifty times a year and you never know where the crooked leg to his bedside table will be to ambush your pinky toe.

Setting your bag onto his bed, you excitedly fumble past all your layers and unclasp your bra, maneuvering out of it with a delighted exhale just as Hyunjin begins his ascent up the stairs, steps creaking loudly under his heavy trudging. “I’m an idiot,” he grumbles, leaning against the doorframe to catch his breath.

You don’t bother to look at him, opting to quickly retort instead, “We been knew.”

“Ugh,” Hyunjin groans, exasperated, and you finally turn to him after successfully jamming aforementioned undergarment into your bag, “anyways. I don’t know why I didn’t just come up here, because I have to wash my face anyway and you do too and now we’re both going to have to share a sink.”

“Aw,” you coo, tone dripping with sarcasm as you pat his arm, “poor baby has to share the bathroom.”

“I’m actually going to strangle you,” he sighs, nevertheless following after you into the bathroom.

“Kinky.”

Hyunjin glares, unamused as he opens a drawer for his pink bow hairband and your striped pink and blue one that he bought for you, but keeps here for sleepovers. Yeah. He throws it to your face. “Sorry,” you offer, pulling the soft headband up to hold your hair back, “I’ll try to stop. I’m just so used to annoying you.”

“Clearly,” he scoffs, flashing his stupidly cute teasing smile and in your head, you imagine raising a white flag in surrender— he’s got you, he’s won, it’s over. Time to call it quits and head home. Evidently shut up (for now), you offer him a roll of your eyes before turning on the sink to wet your hands before pumping out some of his scrumptious watermelon face wash. Maybe if you scrub hard enough, you’ll manage to rinse away all the overwhelming thoughts of the night, too.

Barefaced Hyunjin is immaculate. Well, Hyunjin is immaculate twenty-four hours out of the day, but barefaced, freshly washed, hair messy, ready for bed Hyunjin is immaculate, and you are one of the few people lucky enough to see this eighth wonder of the world as often as you do.

Now, maybe it has something to do with the unexpected ambiance the light from his laptop, Christmas lights, and lava lamp have created together that makes him look so unfairly beautiful at this given moment. Or, you’re just insanely pussywhipped and looking for an excuse. You try not to think about it.

“Why are you so squirmy tonight?” He asks, frustrated enough to interrupt Kermit singing ‘Shawty I don’t mind’ playing from his laptop. “I’m not,” you defend, a weak argument indeed, given that you have just finished adjusting your position beside him for the umpteenth time.

“I mean, four female Ghostbusters? The feminists are taking over! I’m an ad—”

“___, you’ve touched my dick like four times. Don’t try and tell me you’re not squirmy. What’s wrong?” Hyunjin interrupts a second Vine, and even goes on to talk over ‘I have the power of God and anime on my side!’ like a lunatic. Oh Christ, you have? Surely you would have noticed. “Sorry,” you mumble, embarrassed as you bury your face into the curve of his pectoral and instinctively move your leg settled between his away, “I’m just hot, to be honest.” Technically, it is not a lie. Hyunjin’s family definitely keeps their thermostat at a higher temperature than yours and you always manage to sweat your ass off every time you come over. This time, however, you are certain it has more to do with the assault your heart is facing rather than your sweat glands.

At the sound of his tap against the spacebar to pause the video, you wordlessly and reluctantly sit up from your comfortable spot beside him in order to rid yourself of your heavy sweatshirt. Now, here lies the problem. Sweatshirt: off. Nipples: out. Realistically, Hyunjin has seen your boobs a number of times over the past few years, and even if he hadn’t, he probably wouldn’t even bat an eye. But right now, your heart is on the line, you’re embarrassed and you’re trying to play it extremely safe.

You toss the hoodie to the floor and nestle right back where you were anyway, slinging your right arm over his torso and ignoring his sharp intake of breath when you snuggle closer. “Better?” He asks, voice strained and it literally makes you nauseous. “Yep.”

He resumes the video. You had started early in the night watching Pom Poko, which unsurprisingly ended with the two of you crying at the bittersweet ending, then moved to TikTok compilations on YouTube to cheer up before moving on from them and onto the classic Vine compilations. You paid good attention for the most part, chuckling along with him to ‘What up, I’m Jared, I’m nineteen and I never fucking learned how to read,’ ‘Bruh chill, I don’t know why you in a big time rush,’ and all the other absolute comedic masterpieces. But after the fourth or fifth video of the same six second clips with an occasional rare one, you began to grow bored and decided to do what you do best: admire Hyunjin.

Sure, ‘Come get yo juice!’ followed by the loud smash of the oven made you smile, but you found the flashing lights casting shadows beneath Hyunjin’s eyes and lips much more fascinating. Of course, this is not the first time you have been held so close to him. But it is, however, all too easy to get lost in the sight of him and you’ve noticed recently that you are in desperate need of a map. Whether it’s due to your time away from him or simply an appreciation for untouched beauty you do not know.

Even now, your gaze flickers to his laptop once you hear ‘Get to Del Taco,’ but having already watched it five thousand times you tilt your head upward to catch Hyunjin’s silent giggle at ‘free-sha-voca-do.’ It’s a vicious cycle, really, going back and forth between wanting to simply enjoy the night and realizing enjoying the night lies totally in Hyunjin’s presence. And so, you continue to fall into this trap each time until you pay no mind to the videos at all, basking in the brilliance of Hyunjin’s joyous smile and the warmth his happiness makes you feel. It is this thought that slowly tugs you to sleep, a fight to keep your heavy eyelids open lost until finally, you give in to the comfort and allow yourself to drift off to the sound of ‘Step the fuck up, Kyle.’

You think you are dreaming.

You think.

“___,” the softness of Hyunjin’s voice at the crown of your head eases you from the clutches of sleep and you stretch your locked limbs before curling further into his side. “We didn’t open presents.” Even though you can’t see him, you can hear his pout, and you realize you must be awake to hear the disappointed words caught sluggishly between his lips so vividly. You hum, hesitant to open your eyes because you really want to go back to sleep. Just for a little while. And so, you ask, “What time is it?”

“Just past two,” he whispers.

You hum again, trying to formulate a sensible sentence in the parts of your brain still asleep, “We can… wake up at four. And open gifts. Okay?”

“Okay, weirdo,” Hyunjin chuckles to himself, sliding lower down the mattress after shutting his laptop.

You think you are dreaming.

You think.

You can’t remember ever falling asleep facing each other. But yet again, your brain is clouded beyond capability and now, you know for certain you are dreaming. Hyunjin never faces you.

Blinking slowly, it takes a few seconds for your eyes to adjust to the impenetrable darkness and you struggle to make out the features of Hyunjin’s face. You know you are dreaming, and so you tug him closer, throwing a leg over his thigh and an arm over his waist. Even in your sleep, you feel the sadness pricking at your heart, for even it knows this is only what dreams are made of. You like to make the best of it.

“You know I love you, Jinnie, right?” Your voice comes out funny, drawn out and mumbled like your tongue is numb and you fight the urge to feel for yourself.

“Of course I do. I love you too.” His reply surprises you. You thought he was asleep and, either way, hearing such fond words from him puts your heart at ease. He must be misunderstood.

“No. I mean like… I like you, love you. Like I want to kiss you… kiss you good morning and before bed love you. Send you hearts and take stupid couple pics and… go on dumb dates love you. You know?” Your words feel garbled and incomprehensible the longer you go on, trying to express how you feel when nothing is real proving to be increasingly difficult. God, if only you could do it when things are real.

You start to feel yourself slipping as he mutters a reply, mind in free fall and fuck, fuck, fuck, he’s whispering and you can’t hear him but you are too tired and helpless to wake yourself up to hear it. No, too lost in the next dream to go back. You can’t tell what is real and what isn’t. Christ, were you awake? You can’t tell. All you know is that you are warm, so, so warm and letting sleep take over you once more is the best answer to all your questions.

Hyunjin always says he hates waking people up. Because he’s normally the one needing to be awoken, whenever the roles are swapped he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do.

This time, however, he takes it upon himself to repeatedly smack your face with his pillow. Not a fun experience when it’s coming from someone who fails to recognize his own strength. “Jesus, fuck! Okay!” You hiss, the cloud of sleep abruptly ripped away from you with the slap of his pillow against your skin. Arms raised defensively in front of you, you catch his next swing and tear the pillow out of his grasp to shield yourself all before you have even opened your eyes. When you do so, with the blatant intention just to find where he is and hurl the pillow at him, you are met with the harsh light from his ceiling fan and have to squint past the stinging white light to see his shit-eating grin.

“Was that necessary?” You groan, undeniably annoyed and wanting to glare at him more but needing to rub the ache out of your eyes. “Yes,” is all he says, reaching for your bag and catapulting it to you. He is incredibly lucky you are quick enough to catch it before it thumps against your head. What has gotten into him? Did he eat an entire bag of Pixy Stix while you were asleep? You watch, still dazed from sleep and reeling from the whole pillow smacking attack, as he flings open his closet door and turns back around with two neatly wrapped boxes. You squint to make out the dancing Santa T-rex wrapping paper.

“Oh,” you chirp, understanding, and you unzip your bag to retrieve the large box taking up the majority of space, “thanks for waking me up. I’m surprised you remembered. Did you stay up?”

A rosy blush burns its way across his cheekbones. Odd. “I, um— yeah. No, actually,” he stutters, really odd, given he was bouncing off the walls not even thirty seconds ago, “I set an alarm. You made me sleepy.” Hyunjin sits beside you once you have scooted over, leaning against the wall and crossing his long ass legs. He keeps his eyes trained on the boxes in his hands. “Oh,” you hum, looking to your own gift and suddenly wishing for the mattress to swallow you up, “sorry. I haven’t gotten as much sleep as you on break so far.”

“I don’t think anyone ever has,” he jokes and you finally look to him, sharing a cheeky smile before he gets all shy again, tongue darting out to wet his lips, “um, Merry Christmas, ___.”

It’s a simple phrase, but it makes your heart swell. “Merry Christmas to you too, Hyunjin.” Leaning over, you wrap your arms around his shoulders in an awkward side hug, but still end up feeling all drunk and loopy on love when he eagerly returns the gesture, arms curling around you.

“Okay,” you huff, sitting back, “me first.” You dramatically hold your gift out to him, jittery and nervous all over. Buying for Hyunjin is always hard. He’s just so easy to please, but when you want to do more than just please him it’s a constant battle trying to decide how far out you are going to go for him each year.

You watch impatiently as he tears the wrapping paper open first, and then finally lifts the flaps of the box up. “Aw,” he whimpers, pulling out the quokka plushie and attached certificate, “you adopted a quokka for me?”

You grin when he hugs the soft stuffed animal to his chest, the weight on your shoulders partly lifted from his positive reaction. He reaches back into the box, brow scrunched in thought as he regards the framed picture. “The First Day…?” Hyunjin asks, perplexed as he reads the title above the constellation poster. You scoot closer, leaning over to look it over once more. “This was the constellation of stars on our first day of freshman year. The day we first met.”

“Oh,” Hyunjin sniffs, “that’s really awesome, ___. Thank you. This is coming with me to school.” At this, he hugs you again, probably to hide the tears you know are threatening to spill because Hyunjin is Baby and cries every year. “Anything for my favorite fake Aussie,” you smile, leaning your head on his shoulder as he reads through the quokka adoption letter.

“Okay! Your turn!” He exclaims, setting his gifts back into the box and passing you the smaller one of his. He catches your curious glance to the second one he keeps by his side. “We have to open this one together.”

“Christ, okay. Looks like I’m gonna be crying tonight, too,” you sigh sadly. “Ooh,” jumping ahead of yourself, you wiggle your eyebrows at the white box before you, “Hyunjin if you bought me a Fitbit… I swear to God. How many times have I said I am not working out with you?” However, once you finish tearing open the wrapping paper you find it is not, in fact, a Fitbit.

“It’s not a Fitbit, idiot,” Hyunjin scoffs a second too late, waiting for you to slip the lid off the box. “They’re bond touch bracelets.”

“Explain,” you murmur, enamored but confused at the two little house arrest looking bracelets.

“So basically, we each wear one,” Hyunjin starts, taking one of the bracelets out and a burst of color blooms across its small screen at the motion, “and if you touch it, mine vibrates and I ‘feel’ your touch.” As he explains, he buckles it around your wrist, twisting it so it lies correctly. You silently take the second one and help it on him, brain too caught up to actually say anything.

“Try it,” Hyunjin whispers, suppressing his excitement.

You gingerly bring a finger to the little screen, tapping it once, twice. Nothing happens. Frowning, you try again, tapping and holding, then a second time, and finally— a strip of pink light appears and the bracelet gently vibrates as you tap and hold a random pattern. In response, the bracelet on Hyunjin’s wrist lights up blue, buzzing in the same pattern.

“Oh, Hyunjin,” you sniffle, fighting back your own tears because you refuse to let yourself ugly cry in front of him, “this is amazing. Now I can annoy you year-round. Thank you so, so much. I love you so much.” He hums, pulling you close when you turn to give him a proper hug. To your utmost surprise, however, instead of letting go he curls one fist into your side and helps swing your legs over to straddle his lap. “Oh.”

“___,” Hyunjin sighs thoughtfully, fingers playing with the sleeves of your tee, “I love you, too.”

You nearly spit up your coffee. If you were drinking coffee. Instead, you’re left with a dry mouth and a slack jaw at his words. Huh?

Glancing to the constellation picture peeking out of his box, and then to the matching bracelets you both wear, you find your mind reeling trying to make sense of it all. Yeah, you say the forbidden L-word to each another all the time, but most certainly not with you on his on lap and his lips mere centimeters away. The answer is so obviously clear as day you have trouble believing it.

“Fuck,” you laugh all of a sudden, as soon as the realization hits you, “I wasn’t dreaming, was I?”

Hyunjin lets out a joyous giggle, hands linking behind your back. Unable to hide his smile any longer, he clarifies, “You were not, madam. We literally just finished talking about when we were going to open gifts and then I got ready to sleep. Two seconds later you dumped your heart out to me, but when I answered, you were asleep.”

“Bruh,” you wince, hiding your face with your hands, “I am so sorry you had to deal with that.”

“No, don’t be,” Hyunjin comforts, reaching to tug your hands away. Your gut does somersaults when he intertwines his fingers with yours. “I was actually, uh, planning on doing some sort of confession to you anyway, but then you went right ahead and did it for me. So thanks for that.”

“Wow,” you chuckle, trying to wrap your mind around it all, “does that mean you, ahem, perhaps like me too?”

“No, I just got us really couple-y long distance relationship bracelets, pulled you onto my lap, and kissed you because I just want to be friends.”

“You didn’t kiss m—”

The sly little fucker interrupts your retort by quickly dipping down to press a fat smooch to your lips, missing miserably and you don’t know if he did it on purpose but you quickly fix the problem, releasing his hands to cradle his jaw and tilt his head the right angle. Finally, finally you kiss him, breathing in the smell of him like some sort of aromatherapy and whimpering into his mouth when his tongue swipes against your own. It is like nothing you have ever experienced, the taste and feel of him making you tremble and igniting a burst of electricity through your veins. You could kiss him forever, you think, sucking on his plump bottom lip greedily until he finally pulls back, desperate for air or trying to reel himself in you can’t say.

“You have to open your other gift,” Hyunjin reminds, chest heaving, and your gaze follows his long fingers as they comb his hair away from his forehead. Automatically, as if kissing Hyunjin once grants you some kind of free pass to do the same, you brush a few stray strands away from his face before leaning back to admire him. “Stoooop. You can’t do that and not expect me to kiss you again. Open. Your. Gift.” Hyunjin whines, squishing your cheeks and turning your head away.

“Okay, don’t blame this on me,” you huff, reaching for the second box before jabbing a finger into his chest, “you, sir, need to stop being so beautiful for like, two seconds.”

He scoffs, helping you rip off the wrapping paper, “You’re the beautiful one here.”

“Ew,” you wrinkle your nose, most certainly not used to Hyunjin dishing out such compliments, “this is too Hallmark Christmas movie for me. Let me open my gift in peace, ugly.” This box, unlike the bracelets’, is simple cardboard and when you lift open the lid, a brown leather book looks back at you. “You remember Up?” He asks.

On the leather, it reads Our Adventure Book in mismatched colors. “Yeah,” you whisper, flipping open the cover to find two baby pictures glued on the paper, one of Hyunjin, and one of you. At the top, it’s labeled ‘Before Shit Went Down.’ You laugh.

On the next page, there are random photographs from middle school, and then finally each other’s eighth grade graduation portraits. Then, written at the top is ‘Here It Begins,’ followed by a selfie he randomly took with you a few weeks into school freshman year, and then some from homecoming. Silently flipping through the rest of the book, your tears flow freely now, touched beyond comparison at all the photographs and all the memories accompanying them. Some are from large events like prom, others from random moments you don’t even remember, but each and every one comes together to form a special mold fitting perfectly into that Hyunjin-shaped hole in your heart.

The last picture is from the christening last month. Of course, it isn’t one of the nicer photos his mom took of the two of you, but a SnapChat selfie with the flaming sunglasses filter. He’s mid-laugh and you’re pressing a kiss to his cheek. Funny thing is, you don’t even remember taking it.

The page next to it is blank, aside from what’s written at the top of the page. “Togetha Foreva,” you read aloud, voice choked up and God, you cannot fathom how gross you look right now. “What the fuck, man!” You sob, punching Hyunjin’s shoulder before wiping your nose and cheeks with the back of your hands. “I didn’t sign up for this cock and ball torture.”

Hyunjin laughs loudly at this, pulling you into a hug and giving you a few seconds to recover. “Hyunjin, this is like… seriously the best thing anyone has ever done for me, holy shit. God, you Pinterest son of a bitch, this is such a good idea,” you groan, flipping back through the pages and getting teary-eyed all over again, “I can’t express how much this means to me, Jinnie. Thank you, really.”

Flashing that toothy grin of his, Hyunjin tugs you to lie back down with him and tilts your head up to press a much more accurate kiss to your lips. “I meant what I said before, ___,” he murmurs, “I don’t know what to do without you, and I know we only get to see each other once a month but I can’t keep living as just friends. You’re so much more than that. And I hope all the pictures we add from now on will show this new chapter of our lives. If not, well, then I guess I’ll just burn the book.”

“Are you asking me to be Kkami’s official poop-picker-upper?”

“Yes. Wait— what? No!”

You break into a fit of laughter, only to be interrupted with him pinching your side and causing you to let out a yelp. “Hey!” You bark, jumping closer to him and away from his hand until, finally, you give in to your self-indulgence and go right on ahead in swinging a leg over his hips and pinning him beneath you.

“You ruined my serious love speech, ___,” Hyunjin pouts, face scrunched up at you.

“I’m sorry, baby, go on.”

You pause, blinking slowly at him. He blinks back, the silence in the air weighing in heavily as both of your two brain cells bounce around trying to figure out what did you just call him?

“Never mind,” Hyunjin says, voice a low rumble of thunder as he reaches for your hips and easily flips positions, “I think you’re on the same boat.”

You laugh, tilting your head back and eyeing him indignantly. Fuck, he looks unfairly delectable hovering above you.

“Okay, how many more times do I have to tell you I love you for you to formally ask me to be your girlfriend, stupid?” You scowl, bringing your hands to cradle his neck, thumbs brushing delicately against his jaw.

“Call me baby again and we’ll see about making that happen.”

You raise a brow, tugging his face closer by the chain of his necklace. “You’re lucky it’s Christmas, baby.”

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sjw-publishings · 4 years ago

Text

Wassup Beach!

“Wassup, FAGS!”

Alex and Liam uncomfortably gazed away from the homophobic asian, who taunted them sarcastically like one of those bullies from college...than again, Cohen Wang was one of those bullies.

The 5 year boyfriends were looking for their friend Caleb...or at least they think that was his name, but it didn’t matter anyway, especially if the surfer jock was around.

“This is a QUEER-FREE BEACH, Beeeetches, get the Fag out!”

Even without insults from the douchebag, the two of them planned on carrying their stuff and heading a less crowded around, with clearer sand, a better view of the ocean, and no homophobia.

After all, there were Two lesbians embracing each other lovingly by the ocean. This was a safe space.

“No worries babe...I got popsicles!”

Alex smiled, glad Liam isn’t taking those insults too seriously, knowing how his boyfriend would usually be fighting back.

Setting up the umbrella, mat, and cooler box. Liam surprisingly did most of the work and pretty quickly, maybe he didn’t want to ruin their 1 year anniversary of when they started going out.

“Red bean and green tea?”

“They’re pretty good. Got the last two before they sold out.”

Liam sat on the matt, taking up most of the space on the mat as he munched on the red bean. Alex smiled, his boyfriend was so cute, even if he was acting more dominant. He proceed to pop the green tea one in his mouth...and wow...so good.

“Mmm, this green tea is good ...Liam?”

“Pretty cool...so good...”

Liarom immediately fished out for another red bean, his boyfriend of one month always seemed to be a huge Asia fan.

Though he won’t deny the....the speed at which Liarom was eating seemed to be quite excessive-

“What the fa-?”

RRIIIIIIIP!

Shredding the Hawaiian shirt, the man exposed his bare chest on display as he ate.

Large grabbable pectorals shining on display with a handsome coating of hair which made him all the more handsome.

But wasn’t his boyfriend body shy? No...that’s not right. The pan-asian man always loved displaying his body openly to the public. Wearing revealing clothing to accentuate his giant back muscles, his muscular arms which always seemed to be in the mood for a flex, his wonder abdominals which hid a six pack underneath, ready to pop out in a matter of days.

But...he was his right? As he glanced at those toned feet wiggling in their asian tanned splendour, thick sausage trunks which are begging to be massages. Especially up his thighs, to the large snake poking out his red beach trunks....weren’t they rainbow...? But that’s not right.

After all...his boy...friend always aimed to be manly...wait no-

“Li...Lierom!”

“Chill Fag~”

His friend always seemed to be quite the homophobe, ignoring what he says and always aiming to be chill and not caring about anything else.

It wasn’t before long that the necklace of...some gay couple, twisted into a simple silver chain of the bisexual jock’s chest. Though its questionable if the man was bisexual even...as he more than often teamed up with jock bullies to torment-

“FAG! Ooooooooof~”

Jerking from behind, like a huge stick pulled up from his arse, shrinking to an unpiercable bubble butt. Grabbing a hold of his manhood within those shorts, the man started panting, deep masculine groans emerged as a prominent apple stuck on his throat. Tossing the last of the red bean popsicles into the cooler box, the man grunted, begging for release.

It was...so hot. As Alex kneaded below, watching as his asian bully grunted in front of him. The hot tanned complexion bathing his skin, as those long hair chops sliced off and got carried away to the wind.

Sides buzzed off to the back as a stylish gelled top rested on the man, grinning like a doofus as a well groomed goatee donned his chin. A tasty moustache rested above his upper lip, and pearly whites shone from within him.

He closed his eyes, beaming his goofiest smile as the handsome surfer jock just went-

“OH!”

Splurt

“OHHHHHHH!”

As his body rested completely flat on the sand, completely entranced by the sound of the waves and-

“What a stud~”

“Tee hee~”

The asian hunk got up in an instant, ditching the strange stalker...whoever he was, behind him. Because all he cared about now was-

“Wassup Beeeaaaches~ the LEROY’S IN DA HOUSE!”

Leroy Wen swaggered to the ladies hanging over at the ocean, who instinctively swung his muscular arms over both of them like an Alpha, as the asian beach babes clutched onto him like the hunk he was.

The three of them fading of into the distance, like strangers as the confused gay SNAPPED out of his trance. His legs man-spreading on the beach mat, left hand digging into his trunks, the other fishing out for...for-

“Da Faaaaaack man?”

Alex slurred, almost uncharacteristically but he was kinda drunk wasn’t he? At least he recalled. Noting a couple of used beer cans, and popsicle sticks? Oh right...that green tea was great.

BUT WHY WAS IT ALL OUT?

Getting up, the man drunkly walked on the sand, still in a daze. But he had to get more...it was his vacation, right? His SOLO time.

Though he felt that everyday was his vacation.

“Huhuh... cool.”

Walking down the clear sands, making his way to the rough jagged Beach with crowds of people. Normally the caucasian would stay away from caution, but he felt pretty chill...

Walking with a swagger, making big steps as his footprints got larger, and larger as he made the transition. His legs certainly stretched like taffy, before solidifying with tough muscle. Swift moves, like surfin’.

“Surfin’~”

He slurred, lugging his thick calves towards the wavy rough ocean, size 12s sinking into the sand-but his height remained unchanged. Tall at a 6ft 3, like the chill dude he was-

“CHILL OUT FAG!”

SPLASH!

A huge tidal wave came crashing down on him, yet he still had a dopey grin...

The water engulfed his shirt away, dissolving until he was shirtless. It too had bathed the previous colours away, from those shorts, BEACH shorts they were, stretching with navy blue elasticity, with white rings at the edges and waist. A string tied itself from the front, which got pushed out further due to his thick manhood.

His buttocks clenched, preventing any water from entering in...but that’s not just it. He was gay, but he was not into that kind of intimacy...felt that it was a little too QUEER for him, he had a firm butt too...wouldn’t want to get spanked by a sissy.

Speaking of ‘sissy’, that sarcastic voice...and the word Fag really got to him. He was a Fag, but that didn’t give anybody the right to call him fag...but then they were right that he was a Fag?

Confused by the train of thought, he simply blurted-

“Shaddup Fag!”

This got the attention of a familiar looking douche, Cohen. Who pushed down his specs, got down his surfboard, and had a staring contest with the slightly taller male.

“No you shaddup Fag!”

Mimicking the man’s voice, it was simple, and confused the heck out of the surfer jock.

“YOU SHADDUP!”

He smirked, watching his dumbass rival trying to outsmart his dumbass and LOSIN’. After a moment of a heated glare-

“HAHAHA!”

Antolex laughed stupidly with his surfer bud, and frat roomie as the two grinned dumbly at the other. It always was fun questioning the other’s masculinity...cause it just made themselves-

“YOU GAY?”

MANLIER!

Stretching his wide traps, he arm hugged his bro. Hs lean but strong arms were a marvel to the ladies on the beach, alongside those wide traps exposed to the ocean.

“NO YOU GAY!”

Of course, the insult now stung harder than before, considering he WASN’T GAY. Duh, just look at his tanned bod, the effort he made to tone out his chest and pecs just so he can impress the ladies! Wasn’t as defined as his bro, but wasn’t bad since he mostly just started going serious last month, and used to always just party and get wasted in the frat house.

“YOU DA FAG!”

He grinned dumbly, his voice rumbling in a dark baritone drunken stupor.

Course he wasn’t the brightest tool in the shed, but he knew how to insult like his Frat Bro. Especially at the queers that gawk at him, this Asian Surfer was for DA LADIES ONLY!

“OH YEAH WELL-Bro...Bro!”

“What Bro?”

“Ladies...2 o clock!”

The men almost turned upon radar, spotting a couple of asian chicks who giggled and blushed at the men. Their gorgeous super model bods revealed...was just too much for this drunk dude.

“So...hot!”

Almost like time froze, as the man palmed himself without restraint. Kneading his hard member as he grinned his dumbest grin. A lust dusting of stubble over and under his lips, as a handsome gust of wind shaped his hair to a stylish short cut like his Bro.

His legs swaggered to the middle of the Beach, almost like a spotlight reserved for him. Except it was bright daylight, as his facial features had that dull but attractive charisma. Kneading himself as he grinned his widest grin.

Anthony Chang was ready to party.

PSSSH!

“WASSUP BEACH!”

#gay to straight #g2s #mental change #jock #asian #racial change #dumber #gay #lib to cons #to #surfer #straight #personality change #wassup #beach

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vannahfanfics · 4 years ago

Text

Fool Me Once, Fool Me Twice

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Shota Aizawa, Emi Fukukado

Requested By: On_kamis_green_earth (Ao3) & @selmeuuh (Tumblr)

Shota clicked his tongue as he glanced at his watch, cursing every tick of the minute hand. Here he stood outside the restaurant, looking like a stood-up loser. Somehow he’d allowed Nemuri and Hizashi to convince him to meet them for dinner, and yet, they were nowhere to be seen. Where are they?

Shota blinked when his phone chimed. It was a simple message from Nemuri:

April Fool’s!

“Fuck me,” Shota snarled and locked his phone. He cringed when he heard a delighted squeal float down the sidewalk towards him and slowly turned to feast his eyes upon his chosen torture.

“E-Emi?” he croaked in shock when the seafoam-green-haired woman came bounding as fast as her white heels would allow. Her summer green dress swished around her knees, and her ruffled white cardigan fluttered in the wind as she clack-clack-clacked over the pavement towards him. Shota could only stand there, slack-jawed.

A cheesy smile adorned her face as she came to a stop, the pearly whites of her teeth complemented by the sleek gloss coating her lips and the rosy hue of her cheeks.

“Shota! How funny seeing you here, huh?” She then snorted piggishly in laughter and began lightly elbowing him in the ribs. “Get it? ‘Funny’ ? Ya know, because I’m-” she dropped her voice into a harsh whisper and shielded one side of her face with the flat of her hand, “Mrs. Joke?”

Emi began cackling hysterically and slapping Shota’s shoulder while he continued to stand there, stupefied. Emi quickly calmed down, sighing contently as she wiped tears from the corners of her eyes. “Oh, man, how hilarious. So, what’re you doing here?”

“What’re you doing here?”

“Mmm? Nemuri set me up on a blind date.”

Of course she did.

The female teacher frowned as she stood on her tip-toes to peer over Shota’s broad shoulders. “There’s no one else here, though. Shota, did you see anyone walk inside?”

A despicable part of Shota wanted to lie to her. Really, he did; he could feel it bubbling up in the back of his throat, ready to coat his tongue in abominable poison. He swallowed the urge, though, for he could not bear to lie to Emi even if it would get him out of this stupid prank. No, he couldn’t take it, he realized as he watched the happiness dissolve right out of her eyes.

“Emi… I’m your blind date.”

Emi gawked stupidly at him for a moment.

“I-I’m sorry, Shota; I’m just not used to you making jokes.”

“I’m not joking, Emi.” His eye began aching, as it always did when he was stressed, so he cupped his palm against his eye socket while he scowled. “Nemuri and Hizashi tricked me into thinking I was meeting them for dinner, but in reality, they were setting us up for April Fool’s Day.”

“Oh.” Emi’s voice was hollow as she clasped her purse tightly in front of her stomach. Her expression was blank as she swallowed the bitter pill of reality that Shota had just dealt her. “Oh,” she repeated, softly, and Shota tensed at the disappointment lacing her small voice.

Oh, he wanted to kill them for this, and not even because it was an inconvenience to him. No, anger frenziedly boiled Shota’s blood because he did not like witnessing the sad tears brimming in the corners of Emi’s eyes. He clenched his fists and his teeth as white-hot fury seared just beneath the surface, but he kept composed.

“Ahahaha!” she suddenly burst into laughter and pressed a hand into her cheek. She could always flip a switch like that, hide her true feelings behind a mask of giggles. “That’s today? You’d think I would know that, considering— Anyway, I’m sorry those two dragged you out here for nothing, Shota! I should get home before it gets too late,” she hummed while turning on the slim heels of her white shoes. “Even for a hero, the streets are dangerous at night. See you la-”

She stopped mid-sentence as Shota’s hand snatched her wrist. Her forest-green eyes snapped to him with a mixture of shock and wonder, and he met her gaze with narrowed eyes. Emi’s cheeks brightened to a rosy hue, and she shuffled her feet anxiously.

“Sh-Shota, I don’t…”

“Do you seriously expect me to let you leave?” he gruffed. With his free hand, he rifled his fingers through his wavy black hair and gave her a sardonic smirk. “Do you really think I’m that much of a fool, Emi?”

Emi’s blush deepened, creeping down her neck and up to the tops of her ears.

“No, Shota…”

“Good. Now come on.”

Emi didn’t object as he pulled her off the sidewalk and into the ritzy restaurant. His dress shoes squeaked on the waxed tile as he strode purposefully up to the hostess, and their distorted reflections danced in the marbled glass windows framing either side of the entryway. He gave the young girl his name, unsure if it was all part of the plan.

“Ah-ha! Here is it; two for Shota Aizawa at six-fifteen.”

Shota snorted and shook his head. He had to give it to Nemuri; she’d even budgeted time for the duo’s bungling discovery of the treacherous April Fool’s prank. Annoying as it was, Hizashi and Nemuri had this trick planned to a frighteningly precise degree.

Shota finally released Emi’s wrist as the hostess led them into the dining area. They were seated at a table by the window, giving them a perfect view of the city streets. The golden glow of the streetlamps complimented the shine of the crystal chandeliers within the restaurant; the humming of the cars trundling by blended harmoniously with the string quartet band filling the air with pleasant sonata.

Begrudgingly, Shota could only describe the atmosphere as romantic.

Shota pulled out the chair for Emi, which she eased into and neatly tugged her dress under her calves, a stunning picture of poise. Not wishing to embarrass himself in front of all the snooty well-to-dos, he adjusted his tie with a clear of his throat and stiffly sat down opposite Emi. She smiled sweetly as she clasped her hands on the table in front of her. It wavered nearly immediately, and she nervously traced the gem of the ring on her finger with the pad of her thumb.

“Shota, you really don’t—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” he asserted, picking up a menu and unfolding it to plant it in front of his face and hide the blush appearing on his cheeks. “I’ve made my decision, so just decide what you want.”

He could see Emi’s unsure expression melt into one of appreciation over the rim of the laminated menu. She hummed in response before daintily plucking up her own. After a second, he saw the edges of a big grin stretching over the top of the plastic.

“I can have anything I want?”

“Anything. I’m not a cheapskate when it comes to dates.”

“So you acknowledge that this is a date?” she grinned, lowering the flap of the menu to lean across the table and trace the rim of the empty wine glass seductively. Shota raised the menu higher to conceal the blush now raging out of control across his cheeks. He cursed himself at the slip of the tongue, but in the back of his mind, Shota considered the notion that he really wasn’t malcontent with this surprise outing with Emi being designated a date.

She looked gorgeous tonight. Shota’d be a moron if he didn’t admit it. Her sea-green tresses bounced in luscious curls around her face, which was adorned with just enough make-up to be classy. Her eyes were lidded as she gazed lustily at him, her lashes voluminous and long thanks to careful curling with mascara. Her eyelids shimmered with glittery eyeshadow that matched the shade of her dress, which hugged her curves in all the right places. Highlighter accented her cheekbones, and gloss brought a shimmer to her lips that Shota could almost call kissable.

Shota snapped his eyes back to the menu. These were thoughts he should not be having right now.

“Heehee! Shota, you’re so fun to tease!” Emi squealed, rearing back in the chair to clap her hands together delightedly. The plastic lamination of the menu crinkled as Shota gripped it excessively tight.

“Laugh it up, Emi, while you have me for the evening.”

“Oh, I intend to,” she purred and raised her wine glass as the waiter came bearing a bottle of champagne and poured a healthy amount into both their glasses. She sipped at the bubbling gold liquid elegantly as she stared intently at him from across the table. When he glanced up, he almost imagined the alcohol reflecting in her eyes, like rivers of gold running through the forests of her irises. “I intend to,” she repeated in a soft whisper, and her eyes grew lidded again as she looked at him like he was a dream.

He couldn’t blame her, really. Considering the way he’d brushed her off for so long, if he were in her position, he’d be wondering if this was a dream himself.

Wow. Maybe he was a fool.

He dropped the menu down with a quiet sigh just as the waiter came to retrieve their food orders. The waiter delivered them a basket of fresh yeast rolls and some side salads to tide them over until their entrees arrived.

They ate in silence, nothing between them but the occasional scrapes of their forks on the ceramic.

Shota awkwardly searched for a topic of conversation. He’d never been the talkative type. As time went on, his surprise date reclined further and further into the ornate chair. Emi continued to swirl the champagne around in the glassware, sipping it occasionally and staring at the lace tablecloth with an expression that could only be described as sad.

Frowning, Shota leaned his cheek into his elbow and narrowed his eyes, abandoning the Caesar salad.

“Hey.” The deep timbre of his voice called to her like a siren. Her eyes flickered up to meet his. He smirked a little and gestured lazily with his hand at her despondent form. “What are you thinking about? You’re not one to…” he trailed off, eyes flickering across the room as he struggled to voice what he was observing. “You’re upset,” he said finally.

“I can’t help but feel bad,” she admitted with a forlorn sigh. Her gaze dropped down to her lap, and Shota had no doubt that her fingers were digging into the folds of her dress to claw at her thighs beneath. “I’m trying to be happy and appreciate what you’re doing for me, Shota, but…” She trailed off, and Shota jerked up in his seat when she released a petulant whine. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, dyed black with the mascara. “Excuse me!” she gasped abruptly and jumped up to scurry off to the bathroom.

“Emi, wait—!” he cried, reaching his hand out to grab her. But she was already gone, her dress fluttering like doves as she fled from him.

She fled from him.

Shota sat there in utter disbelief, and he searched, searched deep inside himself— and he came to the realization that he did not like seeing Emi this way. Not one bit. He did not like seeing that sad look distorting her pretty features or the mascara-laden tears carving down her face. That was not Emi.

Shota wanted Emi. He wanted the happy-go-lucky woman who laughed at the simplest things. He wanted the woman who was so full of life and joy that it was infectious, bleeding even past his stone exterior to make his world just a little bit brighter. He wanted that smile like a supernova, so bright that it kept all the shadows that haunted him at bay— if only for a little while.

Shota slumped into his chair, running his hands over his face.

Maybe he was in love with Emi, just a little bit. Maybe after all this time, her jokes and bright smiles and random texts had finally slowly worked on him, and he’d fallen in love with her without even realizing it.

He was a fool!

“Emi!” The chair scraped loudly as he pushed out of it, running towards the bathrooms. He nearly knocked over a waiter in his mad dash, but he only had time to sputter a half-hearted apology. He stumbled into the hallway panting and wild-eyed as he stared at the slightly ajar door to the women’s bathroom.

He could hear her crying inside.

“Come on, Emi!” Shota jumped as the air rang with the distinct sound of the woman slapping her palms against her cheeks. “You need to be happy! Happy! Shota’s nice enough to take you out even though he didn’t have to. You need to show how grateful you are, even if it’s not—” He could hear her voice wobbling precariously. “It’s not—” The bathroom echoed with a mournful sob. “It’s not real.”

He slowly pushed the door open to find her leaning over one of the sinks, knuckles white as she clenched the granite countertop tight. Her sea-green hair hung into her eyes, but he could see the tears splashing down onto the swirls of brown and white stone and the flush in her cheeks peeking out between the curled strands. Emi heaved another sob, her entire body trembling as she tried desperately to suppress her emotions.

“I’m Mrs. Joke… I’m not supposed to hate April Fools’ Day. I guess it hurts when you’re the fool, huh?”

“Emi.”

She jerked violently as he spoke, whirling around. Her eyes flew wildly in every direction, searching for an escape. Shota calmly advanced towards her, his steps slow and deliberate so as not to startle her. Emi gulped and tried to side-step him.

“Th-thhank you for a pleasant evening, Shota, but I— Eep!”

She squeaked in alarm as he suddenly caged her in against the countertop, one strong arm on either side of her slim waist. Her hands splayed against his chest, but she didn’t make any move to push him away. They just rested there, her fingers trembling along with the rest of her body as she struggled to process what was happening. “Shota, please,” she begged meekly. “I can’t… I can’t take it,” she sniffed and dropped her head shamefully. “I know you don’t feel the same way about me, and I can’t force you to. So, please… Just let me go home...”

Shota listened to her pleading with sad eyes. How could he have been so heartless? He’d always tossed aside Emi’s playful flirtations as just that— jokes — but he’d neglected to view them for what they really were: cries to be noticed.

He whispered her name as he threaded his fingers into her soft green hair, cupping her cheek. She immediately pushed into his palm, relishing the warmth emanating from his being like it gave her life. Her lashes fluttered as she savored the touch, and Shota’s heart broke all over again at the realization that it was he who reduced her to this.

“Emi, listen to me,” Shota said firmly. Emi obediently peered through her teary lashes at him, sniffling quietly. “I’m sorry. I’ve been blind.” His other hand gently grasped her waist, and he didn’t miss the way she tensed underneath his calloused skin. She stared doe-eyed at him as he nudged his leg between hers, pushing her back against the counter until her back arched a little. She gasped at the intimacy of it all, shuddering at the implications and the smoldering passion that had alit Shota’s dark eyes. He leaned down to press his forehead against hers, smiling bitterly.

“You’re not the fool. I am.”

“Shota? What are you saying?” She gazed at him with measured fear, calculating if this was just another ploy to help her feel better or a genuine confession.

Words had never really been his forte— so Shota acted.

Her body jolted as he swept her up in a kiss. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his dress shirt, and she sucked in a breath through her nose as their lips met, body tensing with surprise and forcing her up onto her tip-toes. However, as Shota’s lips worked fervently against her own, she slowly melted in his hands. She languidly slid back down as Shota pressed into her, leaning her over the counter to elicit a small groan from deep within her chest. Her hands slid up to weave into his tousled locks, spreading apart the gel-slicked strands as her fingers twisted into them. One of his hands kept an iron grip on her waist, while the other traveled through those luscious curls.

He pulled away slightly only to angle his head and kiss her more deeply, finding himself addicted to the way her soft lips molded against his. Overwhelmed with the urge to taste her, he gently ran his tongue along her bottom lip, groaning quietly as her cherry-flavored lip gloss smeared a little. The groan grew louder when she timidly parted her lips to allow him in because Emi tasted sweeter than that lip gloss ever could. She tugged weakly on his hair as he explored her mouth like he was searching for something immensely important, and maybe he was.

They both inhaled sharply when they broke apart, red-faced and panting. Emi's eyes were hazed with desire, slowly clearing as she realized what had just happened. Shota traced her jawline with his fingertips, appreciating how she instinctively tilted her head to present the column of her throat. He could feel her bounding pulse as his fingers slipped down.

"Please tell me this isn't part of the joke," she whispered. Shota replaced his fingers with his mouth, pressing deep, passionate, open-mouthed kisses down the length of her neck before lingering at her collarbone. He felt so intoxicated by her now; how had he missed how maddeningly beautiful she was all this time? Or perhaps he always knew and pretended not to because deep down, he was afraid of someone loving him and loving someone back.

He had to make up for the lost time.

"Of course not," he murmured against her skin. He tracked his way back up to her lips with chaste butterfly kisses, leaving his mouth resting just over hers as he stared deep into her eyes. "You always told me I never had a sense of humor."

Emi snorted at his little quip. Her arms made a home around his neck and her fingers in his hair, teasing the wavy ends continuously. When she looked at him again, she wore that smile that was so bright that it nearly blinded him, but it filled him with such warmth that he sought it out nonetheless.

"Always so serious," she hummed, bringing one hand to trace the stubble peppering his chin. "We make quite a pair." Shota just grunted in acknowledgment, too busy dotting her knuckles with more kisses. Emi watched him with love blooming in her forest-green eyes.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to realize. You must have been hurting such a long time," Shota sighed. Emi shrugged, rolling her eyes indifferently.

"It's okay. I have you now." Again, he hummed in agreement, this time while straightening up. Once he spied their reflection in the mirror, he smirked and pulled out his cell phone. He turned Emi slightly, baring her shocked expression to the mirror, and snapped a picture just as he pressed a kiss to her cheek. He sent it to the group chat with only the caption, Fool indeed.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

#eraserjoke #aizawa x mrs joke #mrs joke x aizawa #shota aizawa #aizawa shota #emi fukukado #fukukado emi #my hero academia #mha #boku no hero academia #bnha

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salemsarc · 4 years ago

Text

i’m not even my own - ao3

It was rare to have anyone other than Tadashi watching Kei’s games.

Kei was running off of a slight adrenaline high walking off the court. The Sendai Frogs had just won against a formidable rival, and Kei was a part of that team. Warmth pooling in Kei’s gut didn’t disgust him anymore, he accepted his passion for volleyball long ago.

Before the match, Kei was opening his texts before confining his phone to his gym bag for the duration of the game.

From: <3Tadashi<3

good luck tsukki !! i’m in the front row

A smile crept up onto Kei’s face, which surprised some of his teammates who were glancing around the locker room. Sure, he was a lot less cranky since high school, but he was nowhere near Hinata’s level of enthusiasm. Kei only sent a short reply to Tadashi before he was about to turn off his phone, another text had caught him off guard.

From: Akaashi

Hey. I’m watching your game. Can we hang out and talk after?

Kei didn’t pretend that those words on the screen didn’t cause him some unease. It wasn’t like he wasn’t on good terms with Akaashi, rather the opposite. They texted frequently (under Kei’s standards) and still made time to go out to brunch or watch a movie occasionally. Just slightly strange that he would request to see each other so suddenly, especially right after one of Kei’s games.

Now that Kei had thought about it, Bokuto didn’t have any games for that week. Akaashi attended every one of Bokuto’s games, the beefcake claiming that Akaashi was his good luck charm. That man was a saint for being able to deal with Bokuto’s antics on such a frequent basis.

Thinking time was over, one of Kei’s teammates slapped his shoulder roughly, causing his phone to clatter to the floor.

“You can text your girlfriend later, Tsukishima,” said his teammate with a teasing lilt in his voice.

Girlfriend, sure. Kei picked up his phone from the ground and shoved it into his bag. He could worry about Akaashi later.

Tadashi was waiting for him, of course, right outside of the gym. Kei’s teammates were still inside, probably doing some stupid locker room ritual that Kei had no interest in. The way that Tadashi’s irises were sparkling in pride still made Kei’s insides swirl around.

“Congrats, Tsukki!” Tadashi threw his arms around Kei’s lanky body despite the fact that Kei was pretty sweaty. “You kicked their asses! God, I’m so lucky to have such a cool boyfriend.” Kei’s insides swirled a little harder at his words.

Tadashi followed up by pressing a chaste kiss to Kei’s lips, having to go onto the tips of his toes to reach his excessive height. Kei didn’t make any fuss because he was feeling particularly sappy for Tadashi at that moment, and his teammates probably weren’t around.

“Yeah, well, everyone else also played the game too, you know,” teased Kei.

“I hate you, just take the compliment!”

“Fine, thank you for the compliment that is definitely the truth.”

Tadashi smacked Kei’s shoulder lightheartedly at that, but he knew what Kei was thinking. He always did.

“Oh! I was sitting with Akaashi during the game, are you guys going to hang out now?” Kei didn’t pay any mind to the stands during his games, regardless of Tadashi’s presence. But he did remember getting a brief glimpse of Akaashi’s emotionless resting face.

“Mm. He said he wanted to hang out and talk.” This time, Kei tried to hide his unease.

“Stop worrying so much, he probably just wants to catch up.” Hiding was pointless.

“He’s by the parking lot, I’m going to go now.”

Kei chose to ignore Tadashi’s remark on his nervousness and instead leaned down to slot their lips together. He held it there for a few seconds, just to be safe.

“Oh, wow, Tsukki. This bold in public? I’ll be waiting for you when you get home!~” Tadashi made a point to drag his pointer finger down Kei’s chest before leaving. His finger carved sparks and tingles in its path of destruction.

He should go find Akaashi.

Akaashi was, indeed, waiting for him at the parking lot entrance. He was by no means short, standing only seven centimeters below Kei’s own stature. But, the jacket he was wearing (or vice-versa) made Akaashi appear Tadashi’s size.

“Ah, Tsukishima. Thanks for agreeing to this so last-minute.” Akaashi had peered over his phone to regard Kei.

“It’s not that big of a deal. I would have just spent some time with Tadashi,” uttered Kei. He didn’t include what he thought that time would ensue, he also chose not to think about it.

“I feel bad for interrupting your time with Yamaguchi, are you sure this is okay?” Akaashi asked. He was shifting his weight back and forth between his legs. It made the oversized jacket sway back and forth, and make a small sound when the zipper collided with a nearby car. Akaashi looked nervous about something and it made Kei’s insides swirl in the opposite direction.

“It’s fine. Seriously. I spent a lot of time with Tadashi as it is,” They did live together, after all, “I don’t mind going somewhere with you for one afternoon.” He couldn’t make his face look any more pleased, as much as he tried. Kei prayed that Akaashi would pick up his sentiment so he wouldn’t have to admit it himself.

“Okay, thank you,” Akaashi’s lips curled up briefly before he showed Kei his phone screen. “Can we go here?” It was a small coffee shop he went to with Tadashi on occasion. Kei simply nodded before beginning to navigate.

Almost no time had passed when the two boys arrived at the coffee shop, it was only a small walk away. Upon receiving their drinks and Kei’s slice of cake (It was most definitely for Tadashi, not himself, grump master Kei would never consume sweet, sugary confections.), they found a table to sit at.

“You did a good job today. A lot of your blocks only had a brief window of decision, I admire your analysis,” complimented Akaashi.

“Coming from you, of course. I’m sure you overthink how you tie your shoes.”

Small talk felt empty when it was obvious that another matter was gravely present. Akaashi just chuckled before taking a long sip of his hazelnut coffee. He took a deep breath.

“Actually, I wanted to ask you some things,” muttered Akaashi while he threaded a hand through his obsidian hair.

“I assumed as such. Why else would you voluntarily spend time with my joyful demeanor?” The sarcasm came from Kei as deadpan as ever.

“Do you mind if I ask something about Yamaguchi?”

“Not really, no. Unless it’s something weird and perverted.”

“How did you realize you were in love with him?”

The question cut through the tense air like a dull butter knife. Kei certainly wasn’t expecting such an emotionally-charged question from Akaashi. Did he want romantic advice? That wouldn’t be like Akaashi, it had to be deeper than that.

“I guess it was right before graduation. Tadashi was really upset over leaving the volleyball team, especially as captain. I didn’t really mind, but I suddenly felt myself feeling upset because Tadashi was. It was when I realized that I didn’t have some silly crush on Tadashi for all those years, but that I was just in love with him.” Kei recalled the moment as if it had happened the day before.

“In hindsight, it was stupidly obvious how in love with him I was. All the signs were there. Even the dumbass freak duo figured it out before I did.”

Akaashi was listening intensely when Kei met the boy’s eyes once again. Now it was clear why Akaashi asked him to hang out, really it should’ve been a lot sooner.

Kei thought about how Akaashi’s mood dropped whenever Bokuto would go into his emo mode during a game. He hid it extremely well, but Sugawara had pointed it out to Kei once, and he never unsaw it. Akaashi’s sets were still precise as ever, but the way the ball sprang off his fingertips made it feel like Akaashi was the one getting his spikes constantly blocked.

“What signs.” Akaashi asked immediately with a sideways cough right after.

“I would sacrifice a lot for him. Tadashi sucked at English so I always would teach him whatever he struggled with after practice, no matter how much work I had. In general I gave all of my free time to be with Tadashi. What’s that song? If I had to choose between him and the son, I’d be one nocturnal son of a gun. As embarrassing and nauseatingly cheesy as it sounds, it’s true.”

Kei thought about how many plans Akaashi cancelled to go to Bokuto’s games. He would always provide the same reason, that he had to be there so Bokuto wouldn’t go into emo mode. Tadashi asked Kei if he was being held at gunpoint.

“The jealousy, too. Sometimes girls would confess to Tadashi after school, and he would come to practice feeling self-confident, but still describing how bad he felt for rejecting their feelings. I was happy that he felt more confident in himself, but some ugly part of me wanted to kiss him right in front of those girls. I guess showing them that Tadashi wasn’t available. But he was. I didn’t want Tadashi to date anyone. Turns out I didn’t want him to date anyone that wasn’t me.”

This time, Kei didn’t think about Akaashi. He thought about Bokuto talking to him during the training camp. A girl confessed to Akaashi that morning and he responded with a simple rejection. Kei may be taken, but he sure isn’t blind (with his glasses). Akaashi was really fucking attractive. It was surely a common occurrence but Bokuto was still dejected. Bokuto didn’t bring his voice volume above a respectable level the entire morning. His mood brought down the whole warm-up. Even Kei felt his arms stinging just a little bit more from the ball.

“Oh, okay. That was really detailed.” Kei had finished his answer and met eyes once again with Akaashi. He appeared more somber than anxious like he had before in the parking lot. Dark eyes were zigging and zagging to find some imaginary answer in the coffee shop.

“I mean, you asked. So, I answered.”

“Yes, I guess I did. Wow.”

“Did that help you realize that you’re in love with Bokuto?”

It was a little too blunt, even for a person like Kei, but he felt like he needed to state the everloving obvious. Akaashi’s eyes blew open like saucers and his mouth stood slightly agape. Only for a fleeting moment, however. He quickly composed himself into emotionless-Akaashi-mode and took an even longer sip of his now cold coffee to solidify his composure.

“Yes, it did. Thank you Tsukishima,” stated Akaashi flatly.

“No problem. When are you going to tell him?” Kei had no desire to press further into Akaashi’s personal feelings.

“I’m not. I can’t.”

Akaashi’s visage was inflicted with a familiar pain. Kei had felt the same emotion himself, he saw those cracks festering onto Akaashi’s state of mind. He could see the doubts swimming into Akaashi’s eyes that would leave him dizzy and longing.

“Akaashi.”

He met Kei’s gaze, and promptly gave in. Akaashi was not about to start crying in a coffee shop where he could feel the stares of a family behind him. Instead, he spilled out all the thoughts that were imprisoned in his mind.

“It’s the classic ‘ I don’t want to ruin our friendship! ’ kind of deal, I know. In the stories and movies the person ends up confessing anyways and of course, the other person feels the same way because this is a romance, coming-of-age movie after all! But this is real life! Just because it worked out for you and Yamaguchi doesn’t mean I get a happy ending too!” The subtle jab at the end, most likely unintentional, made Kei feel a dull guilt.

“I’ve known that I’ve been in love with him, I wish I was that stupid. This was just my reality check. I go to all of his games no matter what, just because he wants me there. Do you know how much I’ve missed out on from loving him? Koutarou could ask me to give him the world, for fuck’s sake, and I would do it. Yet, I feel like throwing up every time he asks me to set to him with that godforsaken confidence in his eye.”

“Yes, I’m in love with Bokuto, but I can’t fucking live like this!”

Kei had never seen Akaashi express so much emotion in his years of knowing him. It was more than every year combined. Kei cursed the emptiness he felt. He couldn’t understand what Akaashi was feeling.

Venting his emotions did nothing to stop the tears already dripping down Akaashi’s face. Upon realizing this, the setter shamefully wiped the wetness from his face with his jacket sleeve. No, Bokuto’s jacket sleeve. The player gave it to Akaashi the previous day because it was cold outside and Akaashi didn’t bring anything to keep him warm.

“Keiji! I can’t let you get sick! I would be a terrible person if I let you suffer like this,” screeched Bokuto. The same excitable man ended up getting sick and Akaashi took care of him because he felt guilty.

An uncharacteristic hand grasped Akaashi’s shoulder. Kei had reached out to him, just like that. Akaashi couldn’t help but halt his downward spiral and look up in complete surprise.

“Just tell him. If he rejects you, whatever. Then you can get over him and stop giving him everything. If not, then there you go.” Kei said firmly.

While it was just a hand on his shoulder and some words of common sense, the gesture being from Kei created a new level of authenticity. Kei felt uncomfortable as all hell for doing this, but he couldn’t watch Akaashi dig himself into such a deep hole. It was by no means a gesture of comfort, but rather of desperation.

“Text me how it goes, okay?” Kei moved to get up and leave. He felt terrible for leaving all too suddenly, but he knew this wasn’t his area of expertise.

Akaashi understood.

Akaashi picked up his emotions that he had scattered all over the table and neatly put them back inside of his head. He dusted off the crumbs of emotional vulnerability from the table. It was a moment of instability, but Akaashi had managed to pack it all down. No more troublesome Akaashi burdening his friends with his useless feelings. Everything was back in its rightful place in the universe.

“Goodbye, Tsukishima. I hope you have a wonderful rest of your day.”

#haikyuu #tsukkiyama #fanwork #bokuaka #ao3

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parkeraul · 5 years ago

Note

can you make something about shawn getting into a fight and reader takes care of him after it all??

heal

a/n: i wanna apologise for the wait, college is really messing up with everything and i’m having such a hard time to write in here. i’m giving it soft hints of badboy!shawn also. anyways, i hope you like it. warnings: mentions of fight; blood; wounds; bruises & pain.

“You had to put up a fight, didn’t you?” She said furiously, walking so angrily that her steps against the floor are making a deafening sound fill the living room as she makes her way upstairs, tossing her bag away from her arm to the couch. Shawn walks slowly to sit beside the bag, letting his head fall behind to rest against a pillow he just grabbed to place under his curls and closed his eyes with difficulty, sighing heavily. “I swear to God that you’re going to face me next time,” She screams from the second roof and Shawn knows that his ears are going to end up hurting more than the cut on his cheekbone. “I wonder, I truly wonder what would’ve happened if I hadn’t found you.”

He thinks about shaking his head from side to side in denial but he stops right at the first movement. His head hurts really bad and he can feel the muscle under his eye throbbing, harming him everytime the skin trembles up and down. His tattooed hand runs through his curls and he also has to stop himself from laughing at her chastise because the cut on lis lip is giving him the most painful sensation he’d ever felt compared to the other fights he’d got himself into. The hand stuck on his curls is filled with bruises, making him feel practically unable to curl his fingers normally but not for a single moment he regrets all the times he punched that guy’s face. It was just priceless. And he would do it all over again if he could be gifted with the sight of his face being pulled back by his hand one more time.

When her footsteps start hitting the degrees, he fixes his position on the couch and snaps his eyes open like he’s preparing himself to receive some punches from her. He couldn’t deny the possibility but prayed to all the Gods she’d have mercy on him. Her eyebrows are squinted together in the angriest frown he’d ever seen from her, lips pouting as her hands work quickly to set her first-aid kit box on the center table and open it to place on the couch the instruments she’d need to use. “How the hell did that happen?” She asks, straddling his lap as she wets a piece of cotton with alcohol. He can’t answer when she’s still frowning, refusing to look in his eyes. Shawn smiles to himself, thinking to himself how can he find her so cute when she’s internally wishing she could kill him right here, right now. Her sweet pout never looked this kissable; her mad expression could be vanished away with his hands cupping her face to squeeze her cheeks together and bring her lips to his. He wants to do it so bad but he knows that he better contain himself, so he has to deal with the situation where he can only desire her even though she’s sitting on top of him — so close but so far away. “I asked you a question, Shawn Mendes.” She calls him out and presses the wet cotton against the first cut she finds next to his hairline. “Fuck!” He hisses, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to move away from the touch. She presses even harder, silently punishing him for getting into another fight in less than a month. “Babe, this shit hurts-” “Don’t you think that I know it already?” She cuts him off and exhales through her nose, rubbing the cotton to clean all the expansion of his wound. “Are you going to tell me what happened or should I start by your mouth?” “I don’t know what’s gotten into you but I like it.” He gives her a boyish grin and she pulls away to fold the cotton and wet it again, using the clean side where his blood couldn’t reach before. “Mendes, you better start talking before I finish the job for that guy.” Her eyes burn his for the very first time after she made him get inside the car to drive home. She’s being taken by her anger little by little now that Shawn is playing with her patience, so everytime she lets out a breath it hits the hair falling in front of her face. Shawn sees a baby whose toy had been taken away from instead of his girlfriend being pushed over the limits of her kindness. “He just started being an asshole the second you got up to go to the bathroom and,” He interrupts himself when he feels the cold cotton touch his wound again, sighing to focus on not being consumed by the burning sensation on his forehead. “And one thing led to another…” He explains through gritted teeth, shifting his body in pain under her. “Oh okay, big guy,” She starts, getting rid of the now red cotton to grab another one to move on to the next wound. “May I know what he did for you to get your eyebrow nearly sliced in half?” “Hey!” Shawn protests, bringing his index finger up like he’s about to defend the most coherent argument in the world. “He didn’t end up that well if you wanna know.” “I don’t wanna know,” She presses the cotton against the cut on his eyebrow, inching closer to see if there’s any drop of blood insisting on coming out. “I wanna know what the fuckin’ hell he did for you to head to the parking lot in the middle of the game.” “Does that even matter now, babe?” He flinches slightly, tensing his limbs and only relaxing to cup her waist in his large hands. He grazes her clothed middle up and down delicately, thinking that he’s easing her rage with it. She pulls away and her face is now giving him all the disappointment she’s feeling inside her chest. “Seriously, Shawn?” She nods negatively because she knows what spurred him on to do this. “What was I supposed to do?” Shawn squeaks, pointing to his own chest with his hands stretched towards himself and she takes a glance, seeing all the red marks resting on top of his bones. “You leave and he starts talkin’ shit.” “What kind of shit?” “Shit like… I dunno… ‘Uh, have you seen those legs?’“ He impersonates with a dumb tone, grimacing and tilting his head like he thinks the guy would do in his head: stupidly and looking like the biggest dork they’d ever see. “And ‘Wow, that ass…’” She’s having the hardest time of her life on holding back a laugh, but she keeps her gravity centered inhaling twice in order to calm her nerves. It’s not the first time Shawn gets into a fight because of comments like this and she honestly doesn’t know what to do anymore. She loves him dearly, that’s for sure. But she can’t handle the view of Shawn covered by red and purple marks every single time someone dares to disrespect her. She appreciates how much he cares about her, but some things must have their limits otherwise the stuff on her first-aid box would disappear in less than a week… And so would he. “Oh, that’s it?” She stares at him and he can’t confirm or deny. “That’s what made you put your crossfit routine to a proof?” “Crossfit is actually not that funny compared to what I did to him, babe,“ He says, that devilish smile coming back and she rolls her eyes before leaning close to him once again to clean the wound on his bottom lip. “You should’ve seen how- OUCH!” Shawn nearly yells when he feels the alcohol burning his lip, looking down and catching the sight of her taking care of him so attentively the best he can — her eyes glued on his mouth, serious expression as she puts and removes the cotton from his wound repeatedly, eventually blowing some cold air to ease the uncomfortable sensation. His heart floats inside his warming chest because of it; this is how he knows she’s doing this because she loves him so and cares about him as much as he cares about her. Does he deserve the attitude she’s giving him? Of course, but it’s good to know that she doesn’t hate him completely. “Shawn, listen to me,” She says in a calmest tone, venting her heart out. “I love you and I love that you wanna keep me safe from all this kind of bullshit. But I’d love even more if you could keep your body free from bruises for a whole year just to start things up.” “Babe, I-” She holds the cotton against him before he can even finish. “I’m not done, Rocky Balboa,” Discarding the cotton to catch another piece to clean the last big wound on top of his cheekbone, she stops him while moistening the fluffy cotton ball and tapping it against the back of her palm to remove the excess of liquid. “I want you to keep it in your pants because I told you I don’t give a shit about what these guys think about me,” She moves even closer, staying face-to-face with him as she wipes away the blood stains and the dirt from the cut. “At the end of the day, you’re the person I wanna be with and the one I’ll actually hear commentaries from,” She rubs the cotton softly now, taking purchase of his curls to keep them from falling in front of his eye and he feels peaceful, not even minding the pain and the regions he’d been hit on. His ribs are hurting, his hands are hurting, his left eye is hurting, swollen and getting purple but being next to her was enough. It was cheesy, so he held it to himself in his head that she’s all the medicine he needs. “Plus, how can you be so sure that he was talking about me? It could’ve been anyone. Have you seen the girl next to us? She was wearing a skirt that showed her legs too. Not that he should talk about her body, but it could’ve been about her.” She gets up, grabbing something else from her box to hold under her arm and getting all the cotton she used in one hand as she walked to the kitchen to put it all into a plastic bag, taking a mental note to get rid of this properly later. “I don’t know, I don’t look at anyone else,” He says totally fucked for her, toying with his own fingers as he hears the freezer being opened. Peeking from his white sofa, he sees her frame standing on her tiptoes to reach the ice tray. Her skirt swaying gracefully when she gets down to twist the object to free the ice cubs. “But when I confronted, he didn’t even try to defend himself. So I’m sure he was talking about my girl and I let him have it.” He smirks proudly, remembering the blood dropping down the guy’s nose after a very powerful punch of his. She giggles under her breath, filling the ice bag she kept under her arm before and walking over to sit beside him this time. Holding his chin carefully, she tilts his face towards hers and places the bag on his swollen eye. His jaw clenches and he replaces her hand with his, so she can carry on with the bandages. “Babe, my lip still hurts… Can I get a kiss instead?” He begs with puppy eyes and she hates herself for not resisting. She smiles, gives in and entwines her lips with his, locking and unlocking them calmly while her hand cups his face with caution. “This is the biggest reward you’ll get tonight for keeping your dumb ass alive,” She warns after pulling away to choose another remedy to help the healing process. “And I hope this is the last time I’ll see you wrecked like this.” “Do you think that I look wrecked?” Shawn feels extremely offended and his mouth falls open in a dramatic outrage. “You should’ve seen the other guy.”

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfics #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes blurbs #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes masterlist #ficsofmine #mine

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midorichan10 · 5 years ago

Text

KnB Stageplay Ultimate Blaze Report (5/5, 5/11, 5/19 Livestream)

Okay I know I said I’d do my report after my second viewing on the 11th but then the finale was on the 19th so I thought I’d wait til then so it’d be easier to remember everything. A 3.5 hour play is super long....

So I watched the play live on the 5th and 11th, and the finale on livestream on the 19th. This is the very last Kurosute ever...Thank you Kurosute for 4 years of wonderful casting and performances. I also want to thank Ono Kensho for once again doing an outstanding job of his role as Kuroko.

FYI, for those who also watched the livestream or plan to purchase the delayed stream, sharing pictures/screenshots or clips in public is prohibited. As such, I will not have any pictures included in this report. Please support the franchise by purchasing the DVD or Blu-Ray.

Major spoilers ahead. Proceed if you only wish to be spoiled. Again, this was a 3.5 hour play so this is VERY, VERY, long.

EDIT: This took me two days to type out ORZ

Before the play starts, Tsuchida’s actor has a voice over on the intercom about stageplay rules and manners. Turn off/mute your phone, no recording, etc. It’s nice that they had him still do his rules even though he wasn’t in the play. ;w;

The play opens up with the Yosen and Seirin scoreboard and Haizaki walking in the audience

Haizaki goes up to a random girl in the audience and flirts with her asking for her phone number.

On the show on the 5th the girl just tried to ignore him lmao

Kagami walks on stage and sees him and calls him out. Haizaki then confronts him saying he beat Mukkun and taunts him until a ball is thrown from the side at him. Kise comes on stage and the whole Haizaki and Kise bickering proceeds.

Haizaki gets REALLY close to Kise like literally breathing down the neck kind of close. How Mario didn’t flinch is beyond me.

Kagami learns that Kise has never beaten Haizaki, and eventually Haizaki leaves. Kise tells Kagami to leave Haizaki up to him.

Kise leaves and Kuroko comes on, using misdirection on Kagami. Kagami asks Kuroko who Haizaki is and that he’s met him. Kuroko explains he’s a former teammate but that he was still a regular so regardless he’s a strong player. Hyuuga and Seirin come telling them off and says they’re going to watch the first quarterfinal match of Kaijou vs Fukuda Sougo.

The opening song for this play’s dance is “Memories.” Personally this is my favorite one so far. I think I have the team order for this correctly...

Opens up with Seirin then switches to Kaijou proceeded by Shuutoku. Then there’s a Kaijou Shuutoku and Haizaki segment.

I just want to say how good Haizaki’s actor is and how his moves were so appropriate as Haizaki....wow

Seirin comes back on for a bit then exits with Aomine and Momoi taking over.

Oh, for the 5th I had Airi (new Momoi) and 11th and 19th were Arisa (original Momoi)

Mukkun does his own dancing segment between Aomine and Momoi

for the 19th finale he danced with a lollipop in his mouth. Isnt’ that dangerous? Lol

Akashi comes out with his jacket on his shoulders to the front of the stage, Then quickly takes it off and runs back. Rakuzan then dances in the front (without Akashi) and Seirin joins back on.

For the instrumental intermission, Kuroko goes to the center and each of the GoM come out and then surround him and do a short dance ending with a dance motion of their signature move/pose.

GoM exit and Kuroko watches Akashi run off (who went directly back) with a pained face, and Ogiwara runs out all smiley (seriously protect this boy he’s so pure) . Ogiwara runs off to the side and Kuroko chases after him. As Kuroko still looks pained, Kagami comes out on the other side and the two walk towards the center and meet in a fist bump.

The last chorus everyone (except Ogiwara) comes out. (Yes, including Mayuzumi). The song ends with each team forming a group pose (Except Rakuzan, Mayuzumi runs off before they form a pose)

All the other teams run off leaving Seirin left, and the senpais then exit leaving only Kuroko and Kagami to do one last running motion as the display title falls on the back. The two of them fist bump again as the title falls.

The play resumes with the match against Kaijou and Fukuda already starting. There are two other members on Fukuda besides Haizaki (apparently they are Ogiwara and Mayuzumi’s actors in black wigs hahahaha)

As always, the match more or less follows the manga/anime so I’ll leave out most of the story details. Most of it is gameplay anyway.

In this play, they’ve really incorporated more ball handling, aka using the real ball.

Seirin is watching in the back. At some point Aomine and Momoi join in to watch. (I can’t remember if Mukkun joins in to watch here or later...I’m almost certain he joins later)

After the match with Kaijou’s victory, Kise limps off with his injured leg. Then Haizaki walks back on stage, looking for Kise. Aomine sees him and tells him Kise hasn’t come out yet from the stadium. The two have their argument and Haizaki tries to punch Aomine but Aomine beats him too it. Aomine always says some sort of variation of “Oops..I did it....Eh, he’ll be fine”

Scene changes to Kagami calling someone, which is revealed to be Kuroko, saying his shoes broke. Kuroko replies how his feet are unnecessarily big (Kagami: OI!!). Kuroko says he’ll have to call ‘that person.’

‘That person’ is revealed to be Momoi as she runs up and gives Kuroko a tight hug. She tells Kagami that Aomine will give him one of his many shoes and that Kagami’s the type that wears by model rather than care for color.

As Aomine and Kagami are playing basketball in the back (Aomine lecturing him) , Momoi tells Kuroko about Aomine punching Haizaki.

Aomine finishes the quick game and convinces Kagami to accept the shoes.

The scene ends with Kagami and Aomine stupidly arguing and Momoi and Kuroko are literally dragging them off the stage.

For the May 5th show, they just literally drag them off

For the May 11th and 19th, Kuroko jabs Kagami in the stomach and pushes him off as Momoi pulls Aomine off.

Midorima walks on stage prepared for the semifinals.

His lucky item is a giant shogi piece

The rest of Shuutoku join him and the senpai question why the shogi piece is so big. Miyaji asks Midorima what rank is Cancer that day and he says 2nd and he gets mad. Takao says Midorima is never wrong with Oha Asa but Miyaji asks for a pineapple from Kimura (off stage) anyway.

Shuutoku is introduced as the first team of the semifinals with Rakuzan following (except Mayuzumi).

Seirin is in the back again and Hyuuga explains how the other Uncrowned Kings are in Rakuzan with Akashi.

The Shuutoku supporters are ‘jacket mob’ actors which are Haizaki and Kaijou

Haizaki’s actor kept dancing around with Mario.....

Ogiwara’s actor is the referee for this match.

Again , more gameplay here. For the actual story read the manga or watch the anime.

For the May 11th show, there were a lot of ball handling errors here.

Otsubo was supposed to pass a ball to Midorima but Nebuya accidentally caught it instead, so he quickly passed it back to Otsubo who passed it to Midorima again.

Midorima ‘shot’ the ball but the ball bounced against a railing and into the audience. It was during the part where he and Takao do the miracle shot. In the script, the senpais pat and hug Midorima and Takao for pulling off the play anyway but for this show they gave Midorima extra hugs and paps for the mistake. How sweet.

One of Reo’s shots also bounced against a railing but it was towards the back so the ball just rolled behind the front fence

Akashi uses a real ball for his Ankle Break. He dribbles the ball around his legs and finishes with the ball going between his legs and catches it. I’ve never seen him mess up nor seen any reports of him doing so.

Mukkun joins Aomine and Momoi in watching the match.

During Hayama’s speed dribble, everyone who is watching ‘shakes’ to the vibration. I don’t know whose idea it was but Mukkun excessively shakes to the point he looks like he’s being electrocuted or something haha. Oh yeah, he’s eating Pocky in this match, real Pocky.

Mayuzumi was out most of the match but occasionally you see him run past between the main fence as he ‘passes’ the ball to Akashi.

When Shuutoku loses, Takao and Midorima are crying real tears. For the finale, everyone was crying...

The scene immediately changes to playing Punky Funky Love and Kaijo senpais practicing. Talk about a mood change. I was still crying over Midorima crying....

It’s a flashback of when Kise joins Kaijou and Kasamatsu explaining how the senpai have worked longer than him.

Just as Kise leaves, Kuroko and Kagami join the stage and they make eye contact with each other.

Of course as usual, before a break there is the Kagami vs Kuroko janken game. Usually involving Kuroko asking for a longer break and him mostly losing. For this break, it was 10 minutes.

May 5th janken- Kuroko tells Kagami that ten minutes is fine, much to Kagami’s surprise. Instead, Kuroko wagers that if he wins, Kagami must treat him to this fancy eel later. Kuroko wins and Onoken posts on Twitter that Yuya did indeed buy him the eel lmao

May 11th janken-Kuroko again tells Kagami that a ten minute break is fine. This time if he wins, he’ll switch to speaking ‘tameguchi’ which is using the casual form of Japanese (like basically everyone else, aka not using ‘desu/masu’). He actually switches to ‘tameguchi’ as he’s talking to Kagami, and Kagami’s trying his best not to laugh. At some point he says it’s annoying haha. Kagami wins so Kuroko’s like ‘well I guess I’m not speaking in ‘tameguchi’

May 19th- it’s their last time to do janken so Kuroko suggests that this time they just play janken for the heck of it. Kagami’s surprised but goes with it. Kuroko wins to his delight, but Kagami being stubborn begs for one more chance. Kuroko allows it, and they have one more match. Kagami wins and Kuroko kneels in defeat.

Other adlibs I’ve heard were Kuroko asking Kagami to buy him boba tea, and the usual longer breaks like 3 hours.

The second chapter opens with one of the ‘jacket mob people’ making sure the audience’s phones are off. The rest of the jacket mobs come out holding various items, such as a camera, cheering horns, towels, and one member has a corndog.......

These are the Shuutoku+Haizaki and Rakuzan actors.

Akashi was the smallest one with the camera on the Rakuzan side. Also he just had Yohchans body structure anyway I mean-no

The corndog guy was on the Shuutoku+Haizaki side, I’m not sure which it was since it was harder to tell who was who (except Takao)

Seirin and Kaijou are introduced and the second semifinal match begins

May 11-Another mistake in this match. Kise jumps to knock a ball out of someone’s hand from Seirin, but the ball hits a railing and bounces back onto the court so Hayakawa quickly picks it up and throws it off stage

May 11- Kise shoots the ball but either doesn’t put enough power into it or shoots in the wrong curtain so the ball ended up going to Kiyoshi who was just coming out from the side.

The jacket mob members act as the ‘fans’ in the stands. Both support Kaijou at first then Rakuzan cheers for Seirin and Shuutoku+Haizaki for Kise.

For Kagami’s line “This is our drama!” Hyuuga and Kuroko had the most outstanding ‘wtf’ faces

When Kagami said it, he puts his hand and fists together. So Izuki repeats him and continuously punches his hand like a bodybuilder.

Hyuuga taunts Kiyoshi with the “Iron Heart” nickname. For the finale he gets everyone in the audience to chant “Iron Heart” with him and Kiyoshi gets mad, “EVEN IF ITS YOU OR THE AUDIENCE I’LL GET MAD AT YOU GUYS!”

When Kaijou loses, Kise cries real tears, every time when he says he wanted to win with everyone.

For the finale, the other members of Kaijou are seen crying too when they lose...

After Kaijou walks off stage with Kise crying, Seirin comment how they made it to the finals and look at the scoreboard which has now changed to Seirin vs Rakuzan.

Kagami walks on stage noticing his necklace is missing. He starts to look for it and Midorima walks on with his giant shogi piece with the necklace. After he gives it back to Kagami, Kuroko walks on with Takao following.

As Kuroko and Takao are talking, Kagami and Midorima are talking (whispering) to each other. Usually it’s about Kagami pointing out Midorima’s shogi piece and for the May 5th show he even tried to take it much to Midorima’s displeasure.

Midorima tells Takao they’re leaving before telling Kagami there’s two Akashi and tells him to ask Kuroko about it.

Here some really dark music plays and I wish they had a soundtrack for this play.....because wow I got chills

Kuroko tells Kagami that he’ll explain what Midorima meant by the ‘two Akashi’s’ by telling everyone about ‘our past’

At this moment, the instrumental for the Teiko ending song, Ambivalence, plays and Ogiwara runs out (Kagami exits and Kuroko moves so he’s behind Ogiwara who’s facing us). Ogiwara then says “Are you alone? I’m Ogiwara Shigehiro! Let’s play basketball together!” and the stage fades into darkness. This marks the end of chapter 2 and a 15 minute break before the last chapter of the play. During the break the instrumental for Ambivalence is still playing so we’re all just preparing ourselves for the feels.

*Note: The Teiko arc is briefly covered in the play, but the actual arc itself is covered in the Teiko Reading screening which was available to stream online and in select theaters before the play, including scenes with Nijimura and Coach Sanada. The Teiko Reading only goes up to right before the match between Teiko and Meiko. The play covers highlights of the Teiko arc and the Teiko vs Meiko match. For those who were unable to watch the Teiko Reading, it’ll be included in the Ultimate Blaze DVD/Blu-Ray.

The third chapter opens up with Ogiwara and Kuroko playing basketball together and Ogiwara confessing that he’ll be moving. The two promise to play against each other in junior high school.

Kuroko explains how by second year, he had moved up to the regulars and he and Ogiwara keep in contact with each other.

Each of the GoM come out in their Teiko practice shirts (and colorful shorts....)

Mukkun had red shorts and Kise had neon green.......

For every other GoM member, they had a dramatic DON! when they appeared. For Kise, he had a super *SPARKLE” effect as he did a double peace sign and smiled. Kuroko comes out last and his is his ‘misdirection’ sound effect that is often used in the play for him.

Oh yeah, Momoi is here too as she watches over them/Aomine.

The Teiko members do some practicing.

Akashi (who is receiving the passes from someone off stage) passes the ball to the rest of the members on stage.

The scene shows how Kuroko and Aomine work well together.

The scene changes and Kuroko narrates how Aomine has started missing practice. They discuss that maybe he had a valid reason and then the stage darkens to just Kuroko who confirms that the reason for Aomine’s absence was that he was ditching. He calls Ogiwara for advice, who said that Aomine is different from Haizaki in which he actually enjoys basketball and the problem is because he likes basketball. He tells Kuroko that since Aomine helped him, Kuroko needs to be there for Aomine.

Aomine comes on in his Teiko jersey, having regained his happiness with Momoi watching. However the other players give up and he in turn gives up playing his hardest. (there’s no players on the stage but you have the image based on the sound effects). Kuroko walks on smiling for a fistbump but Aomine walks away saying his “The only one who can beat me is me’ line.

Kuroko gets a call from Ogiwara later saying that he lost in the first round, and that their promise will have to wait til next year.

For the finale, Ogiwara was almost crying, or he was crying....save this boy please.

Kuroko and Momoi talk about Aomine, making no progress. And Momoi asks him if they’ll always be together, in which Kuroko is hesitant to answer.

Slowly, the other GOM members (minus Akashi) slowly realize their abilities.

Mukkun with his ability to block, Midorima with his ability to shoot.

Kuroko then finds Aomine by the river, and the whole “I don’t remember how to receive your passes” scene plays out.

Aomine’s face looks so pained here /cries.

Back at the gym, the rest of the GOM are wondering about Coach Sanada’s approval of Aomine ditching practice, and Mukkun wants to ditch too. Akashi tells him that’s not allowed and the Mukkun vs. Akashi match starts with Bokushi awakening.

Akashi’s acting was so good, the contrast between Ore and Boku. And the music for Bokushi’s appearance was spine-chilling....I want the soundtrack for this please....

They use a mix of actual ball-handling and using an ‘air’ ball. Even without the ball you can tell Akashi’s actor is really good at basketball.

Akashi declares as long as they win, no one needs to show up for practice, much to Midorima’s shock.

Kuroko returns and asks Akashi who he is, and Akashi responds, “Of course, I’m Akashi Seijuurou.”

Months pass and the GOM are unbeatable and getting bored in matches, so Kise suggests making it a competition of who can score the most, with even Akashi joining in.

Ogiwara happily tells Kuroko they made it to the finals, but Kuroko is unhappy with the current atmosphere of the club. He asks Akashi to let him start out in the semi-finals, which Akashi permits.

Ogiwara is impressed with how much Kuroko has improved.

Kuroko gets hit in the head by the other team and is taken to the nurse.

Ogiwara talks with Akashi about Kuroko, and asks Akashi if basketball is fun. Akashi responds he doesn’t understand such a question.

Kuroko asks to play but Akashi tells him no under doctor’s orders, and tells him Ogiwara’s message about playing each other agian someday. Kuroko asks Akashi to not hold back against Meiko.

Despite losing 111-109, Ogiwara is fighting back against Teiko, telling his teammates to score one basket and losing proudly.

Ogiwara shoots and misses, and Aomine complains how they gave him the chance and tells Mukkun to shoot it.

Ogiwara, on the ground, looks at them in confusion to why they would score on their own basket.

Kise happily announces how they reached their goal and that they’re all matching, and points to the scoreboard to reveal the score of 111-11.

Kuroko comes out to see a heartbroken Ogiwara, who looks at him before leaving the stage.

Kuroko talks how painful it is, and what is victory. Onoken’s acting here was emotional, as expected from already portraying Kuroko in the anime.

The GOM come out and line up behind Kuroko similar to the panel in the manga.

Kuroko announces his resignation.

Kuroko narrates how Ogiwara has transferred, and Ogiwara comes out on stage saying how the GOM had such cold eyes, but Kuroko can melt that coldness.

Kagami then comes out, and scolds Kuroko along with the rest of Seirin.

Hyuuga gets mad at both of them and sends Izuki and Koganei to drag Kuroko off and give him a tickle attack. Riko follows.

Kiyoshi and Hyuuga comment how it was a sad story and that Kuroko never talks about himself like that, so now they must win.

The next day is the Kaijou vs Shuutoku match for third place and the finals.

Mukkun meets up with Aomine and Momoi, who talk about who would win. They say third place is decided but the finals could be anyone.

Kise is on the bench due to his injury, and Shuutoku easily wins the third place match.

Midorima tells Kise their match is ‘postponed’ for now.

Kise gets annoyed saying, “WELL OF COURSE. IF I WAS IN THERE I’D WIN”

Kise and Midorima continue to bicker.

Kasamatsu and Otsubo just look at each other and let their kouhais fight it out.

Towards the second half of the runs, when Midorima points his finger at Kise, Kise actually bites his finger. No, I mean it. He actually bites it. Midorima gets grossed out by it.

Midorima: EW SO GROSS NANODAYO Kise: I’M NOT GROSS. I’M PRETTY.

^yes, those were actual lines.

Now it’s time for Seirin vs Rakuzan.

Haizaki’s actor is the referee.

For the tip-off, Nebuya gets upset that Kiyoshi isn’t the one jumping.

Seirin declares Mayuzumi not a threat since there’s little information on him, so Aomine asks Momoi about it. This is an adlib scene and varies per show.

May 5- Aomine asks Momoi to get ‘that’ (her notebook) from her bag. Instead she pulls out one of his gravure photobooks. She proceeds to put it back but Aomine hastily takes it away. Momoi asks Mukkun if it’s in his potato chip bag. He looks in it and pulls out..................a chip. Turns out the notebook was in her bag after all, much to Aomine’s annoyance.

May 11- Instead of her notebook, Momoi kept pulling out Mukkun’s empty potato chip bags. Aomine gets mad, but Mukkun only responds, “They were yummy~.” The notebook again was in her bag after all.

May 19- similar to the May 5 adlib.

When Hayama does his dribbling, Mukkun agains shakes vigorously on the side. This time, since he has chips, he sometimes dropped them on stage. So afterwards, you would see him picking them off the ground.

Both Reo and Mayu admit how loudly annoying Hayama is (they were running across stage too )

When Nebuya gets upset that Kiyoshi doesn’t remember what he told him 2 years ago, he literally throws a tantrum on the ground.

Everyone in both Rakuzan and Seirn:.............

When Akashi goes into the Zone, he actually dribbles around everyone with the ball across the stage. Talk about coordination!

Akashi’s shocked face as he’s starting to lose was perfect too. Sorry I have a lot of Akashi notes....

As he’s starting to lose, Akashi starts switching between Oreshi and Bokushi. Oreshi’s voice has like an echo/autotune effect but it’s not a recording or anything.

Thus, the monologue between Oreshi and Bokushi was amazing. The actor constantly switches between both sides very smoothly. Give this guy an Oscar please.

When Oreshi talks about his mother, a ball falls from the sky and he hugs the ball close to him as he mentions it’s what he has left of her.

You can actually visually see the difference between Oreshi and Bokushi in face expression.

As Seirin admits defeat, they’re all collapsed on the ground, even Riko, until Ogiwara comes out and cheers for them.

Aomine shouts out from the side of the stage. In the finale he was even crying.

Kaijou and Shuutoku go in the audience and cheer for Seirin from there.

For the May 11th show I had Kaijou right behind me. Literally -screams

Aomine was crying real tears when he says “So it was you all along, Tetsu...”

For the finale was sobbing more

For the final shot, the stage goes all dark as Kuroko says “I’m a shadow.” Then Kagami comes out from behind and makes the final dunk.

Lantana then begins to play as Kagami declares Seirin the winners of Winter Cup.

In the final performance, Akashi cried as he admits his loss and even when he shook hands with Kuroko.

After Kuroko shakes hands with Akashi, and says that they can play basketball at anytime, Seirin and Rakuzan make a quick bow and run off stage.

Final Scenes

The remaining GOM come out in their uniforms, each with a basketball, and happily dribbling around the stage.

Kise sees Haizaki walking out with his shoes, about to throw them away, but Haizaki hesitates and instead hugs them close to him. He sees Kise was watching him and Kise smiles knowing Haizaki didnt’ really hate basketball after all.

The different teams come out taking a stand in front of the stage and then having a fun match against each other.

Kaijou vs Shuutoku

Seirin vs Rakuzan

The players even go up against other players that we didn’t see during the matches. Everything was so emotional and happy.

The last scene ends with Kuroko and Kagami fistbumping each other and Kagami poses as he’s about to dunk and Kuroko kneels below him fistbumping towards us as all the other players are reaching out towards Kagami.

Curtain Calls

May 5th Aichi Finale - Akashi and Reo

Reo mentions how in high school he was the only one in his group who didn’t read KnB. And now he’s IN KnB.

May 11-Kiyoshi and Koganei

They got Hyuuga to go to the center and do a big “KUROSUTE FIGHT O” cheer with the cast and audience.

May 19th-Kuroko and Kagami

This one was really emotional as it was the final performance ever. Yuya starts crying over his talk over Kagami, and he even deeply bows to Onoken to thank him.

Onoken didn’t cry but he was on the verge of doing so, his voice was shaking.

I lost count of how many curtain calls there were for the finale, but there was a lot.

Highlights

Every show Rakuzan would high-five Akashi as they left the stage

For the finale Mayuzumi even hugged Akashi, and then for another curtain call afterwards all of Rakuzan group-hugged Akashi

Kuroko and Kagami asked if the director was around, apparently he wasn’t so they asked someone to say “Thank you” in his place instead. The cast chose Akashi to say it.

Momoi ran up to Aomine and Kise and walked off together.

On one of the last curtain calls, Aomine and Kise decided to have OnoKen thrown up in the air and got everyone to join in.

Every curtain call ends with Kagami and Kuroko fistbumping each other and leaving. For the very last curtain call, it was all of Seirin together.

Kiyoshi lifts Riko up in the air for a few seconds to celebrate.

And thus concludes my last Kurosute report....please consider buying the DVD or Blu-Ray when it comes out, you won’t regret it.

Once again, thank you for four years Kurosute. Thank you cast members for doing a wonderful job portraying our beloved characters. Thank you Fujimaki-sensei for creating such a beloved series.

#kuroko no basuke #kuroko no basket #knb stageplay #kurosute

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phantomphangphucker · 6 years ago

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The Apocalypse Comes To Amity Park In The Form Of...Danny? - Phic Phight

Prompt Creator: @feministhotline Prompt: Phantom uses duplication to get Jack and Maddie off his tail. Summary: In a time of desperation and spilled ice cream, Danny must use duplication to escape, but things go horribly wrong! When a wild Danny appears! Things To Note: Vlad becoming mayor isn’t canon here, PP is never canon and Valerie is on a friendly truce with Phantom.

Warning: excessive swearing, broken bones, violence.

Let Danny say fuck, taking a piss on canon, Danny is a fidget spinner, Danny’s an angry boi, Valarie is an angry gal, teenage superheroes are just the embodiment of anger

“You have got to be kidding me!”

Trash can lid goes flying.

“Of all the lousy timing!”

A duck squawks angrily as it’s almost stepped on.

“Why can’t they just not!”

Car horns blare from people far too used to Amity parks shit.

“For one fucking day!”

A loud whack! Is heard as someone’s head impacts a sign.

“Shit! shit! shit!”

A child cries as his ice-cream cone is knocked to the ground.

“You know what? Fuck it!”

Loud crashing, as a running boy launches himself through a window.

“Yeah yeah this’ll work”.

One pale black haired boy pokes at a mirror as he turns to give a thumbs up to a floating white-haired boy. Their bodies would match in every way if not for the glowing and colour inversion. Quickly spinning around they both take in the mess of broken glass and discarded bottles. Then snapping their heads up at the fast approaching footsteps. The black haired one quietly shouts “you hide or anything”, as the white-haired one zips under a pile of wood. Using his ghostly tail to make himself look like a sleeping cat. While the black haired one pretends to be passed out in the corner, clearly visible to any incoming people.

“Danny! Oh my god! What are you doing here!” A women runs up and shakes the black haired boy, Danny. Danny then pretends to groggily wake up due to the shaking, “m-mom? Wha?”. Danny looks around and pretends to be unaware of his surroundings, it’s extremely effective.

“Danny-boy, are you ok?” A large man in orange asks. “Jack, I think it’s better we get him home” then the lady turns back to Danny “honey you’ve been missing all day, where have you been?”. Running from you, “Uh, can’t say I know”. shaking his head, Jack says “yeah Mads, I think it’s best we just go home. I think Danny boy here whacked his head a little too hard. Whoops.”.

Just as Maddie and Jack are getting Danny, who’s still pretending to be groggy, into the Fenton assault RV. The white-haired version slips out of the building just at the wrong moment. “Mads! Look! Phantom! We still got a chance!”. Jack aggressively grabs the wheel spinning it around, sending the RV after the boy. “You’re not getting away this time you ectoplasmic menace!” Oh come on! Danny Phantom mentally grumbled. Jacks awful driving, however, was a problem. Resulting in the vehicle careening off to the side, back doors flying open and sending Danny Fenton flying out. Who’s knee jerk reaction is just to phase through the wall. “Wait shit!” As Danny Fenton spins his head back to the wall, that a human shouldn’t have been able to go through. Just as he’s about to hop right back through a stray ectonet from his parents, flings around him cutting him off from using his powers. “Oh for Plasmius sake”, Danny Fenton groans from in the net. Danny Phantom, on the other hand, flies around and through a bunch of other walls, redirecting his parents away from Danny Fenton. “CRAP! SHIT! What the fuck am I supposed to do now?” Sighing, Danny Phantom gets one potentially stupid idea and he doesn’t know yet just how stupid it will be.

Dropping to the ground to conserve and build up more energy, Danny Phantom makes haste and sneakily works his way to the wall that Danny Fenton stupidly phased through. “I am giving myself a C- for plan creation and execution today” Danny Fenton shakes his head, still inside the net. At that time Danny Phantom just makes it back to the wall, using his stored up energy he duplicates again; failing to notice the sharp jab in his back. Once again white hair faces black hair, and black gives a thumbs up as he pretends to be knocked out, slouching against the wall. Danny Phantom quickly squeezes himself behind a wall and just fucking waits, hoping his parents don’t have a scanner on them.

Jack and Maddie grumpily ball up their fists at the now likely escaped ectoplasmic scum. But quickly run up to Danny when they see him slumped against a wall. Maddie lifting Danny up as Jack flips the RV back over, like a straight beast. Everyone loaded back in again, they finally do indeed go home. Jack and Maddie both feeling highly guilty about the (fake)knocked out teen in the back seat. They don’t even attempt to check the scanner, instead putting their son first as they should have from the start.

Back at the warehouse, Danny Phantom comes out of hiding and removes the weird dart from his shoulder blade; instantly feeling off. “Ok, bad idea” after a couple seconds, “ok, really bad idea” as suddenly there’s a fourth Danny and something about him is not right. Then there’s a fifth, then sixth and then a seventh.“Oh fuck”, Danny quickly sticks the dart back in. Thankfully, no more Danny’s split from him however the Danny’s start teleporting all over the place like a glitching hellscape. Groaning head titled back, with a hand on the dart making sure it doesn’t accidentally fall out. “What did I ever do to deserve this”, at that second one Danny teleports and smashes straight into him. Knocking the dart out. By the time Danny has scrambled to the dart and jabbed himself again, there’s 11 new Danny’s. “Ok now I feel like I’m going to be sick”, Danny watches the hell show of Danny’s bouncing about, occasionally smacking each other, and slowly flips out his phone calling Sam.

“Hey Sam”

“What’s the problem now Danny”

“You’re not going to believe this but there’s like 17 Danny’s right now and I can’t make it stop, without stabbing myself with this STUPID FUCKING DART! Anyways how’s your day been?”

“Danny, what the fuck? Do you, like, want that suppressor jacket Tuck made? And my day’s been worrying, you dick. You just up and vanished!”

“Yeah that sounds like a good I-ack!” As two Danny’s slam into him, the dart comes out for only a few seconds before he shoves it back in. But that was enough time to make more Danny’s.

“Danny?”

“GREAT! JUST GREAT! THAT'S JUST WHAT I NEEDED! THERE'S THREE FUCKING MORE NOW AND THEY ALL HAVE THE SAME DAMN FACIAL EXPRESSION!”

“Okay Plasmius cool down, Tucks on his way to your phone's location. You Pan or Fan?”

“Drying Pan all the way. Can’t be a Screaming Fan with this STUPID FUCKING DART IN ME! And I’ve been running all freaking day, Power bars down the drain.”

“Wow, well do I need to set up anything for when you get here?”

“Ectoproof-fishing line maybe, to control these wild Danny’s”

“Uh can’t you just, exert self-control”

“FUCKING NOPE, APPARENTLY NOT! THEY'RE JUST FUCKING. TELEPORTING EVERYWHERE”

“That’s actually way more concerning, what the hell.”

“Shit looks like Tucks here, so uh talk later?”

“Yeah sure Danny, I don’t know how your life always goes like this”

Hanging up the phone, Danny carefully works his way around all the bouncing, teleporting and floating Danny Phantom duplicates. The Danny Fenton who has finally gotten himself out of the net, phases his head through the wall and just mutters “this is so fucked”, walking fully through the wall; Fenton follows the “normal” Phantom. Tucker, then makes his way around a wall staring at his PDA. The two “normal” Danny’s just stare at him as one of the wild Danny’s crashes into him. “What the fuck Danny!” Then Tucker looks around and to the two Danny’s that are just standing. “Uh Danny?”. The two Danny’s nod “yeah, we’re fucking normal, well as normal is I or we can ever be. Welcome to hell.” They finish as another wild Danny slams into Danny Fenton. “Normal” Danny Phantom walks over to Tucker “dude I can’t take this stupid dart ou-” Danny Phantom gets cut off as both he and Tucker are slammed by a wild Danny. “This is like teleportation Danny ping-pong! What the hell Danny!”. Danny Phantom snapping his head over to Tucker “Oh I dOn’T kNoW mAyBe I wAnTeD tHiS fReSh HeLl TuCkEr!!!!”...yanking Tucker over to him. “JUST GIVE ME THE FUCKING VEST TUCK!!!”. Just as another wild Danny crash into them sending the dart flying “OH FUCK ME SIDEWAYS AND UP A FUCKING POLE!”. As more Danny’s start popping up Tucker aggressively shoves the vest at him. Then Tucker takes off after the dart, as Danny gets the vest on and activates it. “OH THANK FUCK! IT ACTUALLY FUCKING WORKED!” Danny flops on the ground as Danny Fenton walks over and helps Tucker avoid the wild Danny’s. Tucker shoves the dart into his pocket and immediately drags both “normal” Danny’s outside. In the process one very exhausted Danny Phantom returns to Fenton form. Tucker, then looking between the two Fenton’s and then through the doorway at the 40 odd wild Danny Phantoms. Turning back to the Fenton’s “how is this even possible? Last I checked you could only do four and that was pushing it and what the fuck is wrong with their faces?” Danny on the left just jabs a finger at him and says “you’re dragging our asses to Sams, crazy wild Danny’s included”. The other Danny cuts in “and all those are that darts fault and that dart is courtesy of my parents and I’ve been missing today also due to my parents and I CURRENTLY WANT TO DIE!”. Tucker just looks back into the room “so what are we going to do? play fucking Pokemon with your hellspawn and again what’s with the faces?” Glaring at Tucker right side Danny says “I fucking guess so and I don’t fucking know, IT'S NOT LIKE I HAVE ANY FUCKING CONTROL OVER THEM!”. “Fucking Christ” Tucker breathes. “Dude all I’ve got is 3 thermoses and obviously you don’t have one at all otherwise you would have caught some already”. Tucker looks at the Danny’s as they just stare and slowly facepalm each other. “Danny you have got to be kidding me” Tucker groans when left side Danny shrugs saying “we were just going tackle them and drag them to Sam’s. Stringing them to ectoline like fucking balloons.” Left Danny then pulls out a, clearly empty, thermos. “You’re a fucking tit, you know that?” Right side Danny glares and then points at other Danny “that FUCKER has been running all FUCKING day, I’ve been stuck inside a FUCKING net and the third one is off pretending to be knocked the FUCK out on the Fenton couch. WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT FROM US!”. Tucker’s jaw drops “there’s another one? Seriously? And man you’ve had one hell of a day.” Both them glare at him and shout “TELL ME ABOUT IT!”.

“Alright, Danny’s let's take some of that, clearly pent-up, anger out on yourselves.” Pausing to think “do you think that counts as self-punishment?”. One of the Danny’s hits him on the head with their thermos as the other says “I can’t feel whatever happens to them others wise I’D BE SCREAMING IN FUCKING AGONY BY NOW”. Tucker is confused until he clues in that the wild Danny’s are straight up crashing into everything, spinning and teleporting rapidly. “Ok, point and I also think you would be vomiting, sweet Plasmius. Uh I think we should do this shit, like, now, dude”. Shrugging the two Danny’s run in, fucking screaming, thermos’s in hand and shooting the beam everywhere. Shaking his head Tucker runs in and joins the fun. Eventually, Tucker has to switch to his second thermos because, sweet fuck there are so many Danny’s. Eventually, they stand, with shaking thermoses and one remaining wild Danny. One of the Danny’s eyes his thermos with a mix of caution and anger “this shit is going to FUCKING EXPLODE”. “Yeah no shit Danny, so I guess let’s tackle? The last one and just like drag it away?”. The other Danny shrugs “yeah, fuck it and then we’ll throw it at Sam. Maybe the balloon idea is still useful.”. Tucker chuckles “that is going to be fucking hilarious”. On that note the three fucking leap on the last wild Danny as it spins in front of them. However, the wild Danny keeps teleporting; dragging the Danny’s and Tucker with it. “HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT NOT HAPPY TIME NOT HAPPY TIME” Tucker cries as one or both? Danny’s scream “OH YOU GOD DAMN FUCK, FUCK ALL OF THIS I WILL FUCK YOU WITH A POLE AND ROLL YOU IN FUCKING CAT LITTER!”. The Danny’s just end up wailing on the wild Danny, teeth bared and basically full on feral. Scaring the living hell out of Tucker, as Tucker just decides fuck it and suck the wild Danny into his over-filled thermos as well. The three get dropped to the ground, both Danny’s completely started and genuinely mad at their opponent's sudden cop-out. “WHAT THE FUCK!” Both snapping their heads towards Tucker, “TUCK! WHAT THE FUCK!”. Tucker just throws his hand up at the two feral ass Danny’s “dude it needed to be done, chill out.”. Lowering his hands “though honestly, I shouldn’t be surprised you’d be so eager to beat yourself up”. The two Danny’s get up and silently stalk over to him, grabbing both his arms as he internally freaks out. They drag him outside the building, Tucker finally rights himself and gets them to let go. Tucker digs into his pockets and throws down a tiny disc creating a tiny self-contained ghost trap and he puts the thermos’s inside. Both Danny’s follow suit, though they do it angrily.

“Dudes, my cars just down there. Like always I’ll ask you, try not to destroy it.” Both Danny’s flip him off but then all three of them burst out laughing. “This is easily the weirdest fucking thing to ever happen to me and whoops” Tucker instantly stops “whoops what Danny?”...”DANNY WHOOPS WHAT?”. One of the Danny’s says “third me joined us in laughing and now mom and dad thinks he has a concussion”. Tucker laughs some more “Wow this day really really hates you”.

Meanwhile, in the Fenton household. “Jazz I’m fine, I swear!” Jazz glares at him “Danny you keep barely containing laughter, jerking randomly and your basically furious for no reason. You are not fine.”. Danny falls back groaning against the sofa as his parents hover around him and Jazz, kicking his legs and silently screaming into the pillow. Rolling back over he growls and stares defiantly at the ceiling. I really wish she knew our code terms right about now. At least other mes are off to Sam’s now. This is all just fucking peachy, fucking great. Jazz snaps her fingers in Danny’s face “there you go being all pissed off again.”. Maddie chimes in “Jasmine, sweetie are you sure he doesn’t need to go to the hospital?”. Both Jazz and Danny quickly say “no, that’s not needed.”. Danny, trying to salvage the situation, “how bout I just take a nap, right here and we can all see how, TOTALLY FINE I AM. Once I’m awake and y’all have CHILLED OUT.” Danny forcibly curls up on the couch pulling blankets over his shoulders. “Fine. But I’m staying here and watching you for anything. And I mean anything” Jazz says with understood meaning. Danny, of course, doesn’t actually fall asleep but he makes a damn good show of it. Jazz eventually shoos Jack and Maddie to bed and as soon as they’re gone Danny snaps his eyes open. Jazz, startled “ Danny what the hell?”. Rolling his eyes “I was waiting for them to go because they don’t know”, Jazz is confused for a heartbeat but then nods. “Ah so ghost thing then?” Chuckling Danny says “I’m a duplicate Jazz, mom and dad spent all day running after me so much so that I had to duplicate to trick them away. But then I had to do it again because they found Phantom me, again and then I entered a brand new fresh hell.”. Jazz stares and then shakes herself “so where’s the real you or aren’t your duplicates real yous as well? And what do you mean by hell?” Jazz quickly looks up checking that Jack and Maddie really are in bed. “The other two are with Tuck and about 40 or 50 other Danny’s” at that Jazz goes completely bugged eyed “what? How?” Danny huffs “like I told Tuck like, 2 hours ago. Parents got me with a weird dart and my duplication powers went fucking nutty. Got Tuck to bring a power suppression vest we designed, shit fucking works it seems, and now we’re heading to Sam’s to try and fix it.” Jazz shakes her head “so what there’s, what 50 or so invisible yous all flying into one house?”. Danny bursts out laughing at this “fuck no, all the duplicates that resulted from the dart thing are completely fucked up. Bouncing all over the god damn place, teleporting and shit. To kick that shit off I have no fucking control over them at all so they’re all stuffed in thermos’s”. Jazz rubs her temples, “well I can’t let you, or at least this you, go over to Sam’s. That would be too suspicious.” Sighing “so you’ll just have to stay put and try to act normal.”. Danny stares at her “fucking normal? Really and how fucking well has that worked so far. I’m exhausted, been assaulted multiple times by myself, assaulted myself, and did I mention that the stupid vest is very fucking uncomfortable?” Jazz raises her eyebrows so Danny continues on with his rant. “It’s like being fucking pressure cooked inside a pot filled with nails. But if I take it off BAM! More fucking wild Danny’s. Plus so long as it’s on I can’t absorb any duplicates. It’s fucking exhausting controlling three fucking bodies. Being stuck in a net for hours also wasn’t any fucking fun, they’re not made for comfort you know. Oh and both my legs are fucking busted from going out a fucking window and shit-“ Danny bats away Jazz’s hand as she, alarmed, tries to check his legs. “Not these fucking legs, my originals. I don’t even think Tuck’s fucking noticed since I’ve been fucking floating every damn where. But I had to run on them for a bit to conserve energy earlier so they’re probably pretty damn fucked.”. Jazz sits massaging her head, “is there literally anything I can do Danny? And please have your original stay off your or their legs.”. Chuckling “Jazz all you can really do is help convince mom and dad I’m fine so I can go over to Sam’s as soon as possible. The trips going to take about another 10 minutes. So it’d be fucking fantastic if I could focus on the shit going down there, rather than trying to put my effort towards managing mom and dad here.”. Jazz sighs, “I’ll do what I can little brother, for now you can just pretend to be sleeping at least. Think you can tell me what the dart looks like though, so I can check the lab for it?”. Danny facepalms, “yeah, fuck, that’s probably a good idea. I don’t know what colour the liquid or whatever inside was but it’s about the size of my thumb, has a flaming Fenton F on it, and the needle part is really fucking long.”. Jazz pats Danny on the shoulder as she gets up “alright you get some sleep and try to sort this out.”. With that Jazz heads down to the lab with one more look in on her parents, who have both fallen asleep.

Tucker pulls up to Sam’s place and the Danny’s phase them and their cargo straight into her room. “Wow that took you, three? A while. What the hell happened?” Sam asks with a curious smirk. Tucker’s the first to open his mouth “well the Danny’s basically assaulted us, we had to play Pokemon with them and Dannys’ parents think his other duplicate has a concussion.” One of the Danny’s throws his hands up “Yeah because I’m acting fucking nutty because of dealing with these FUCKING THINGS!” he gestured wildly to the thermoses. “Don’t need the ectoline anymore by the way. Oh, also both legs are fucking smashed”. Tucker whips around “dude what! When?”. And Sam aggressively says “sit” while pointing to her bed after putting plastic on it. “When I fucking launched myself out a DAMN window after being smacked in the face by a SIGN and destroying a child’s ice-cream cone.” Sam rolls her eyes “you damn monster”. “I couldn’t fucking float cause my power bar was down the drain. Still kinda is but not so damn bad.”. Tucker shakes his head “dude, again, today hates you.”. The second Danny floats over to Tucker as the first Danny lifts up his pant legs. “You have any more vests? Cause while this shit is horribly fucking uncomfortable it’s better than descending waves of wild Danny’s upon Amity Park.” Tucker shakes his head “no, but I’ll get right on that cause yeah I don’t want to see another one of them.” Sam rolls her eyes “could they really be that bad, basically they’re just Danny but not under his control right?” Both Tucker and the two Danny’s all say “sweet Plasmius fucking no”. Just as Sam exclaims “Plasmius Danny! Did you like walk around on them like this or something?!”. The Danny’s smirk. “You fucking did you moron!” Sam slaps him on the head as she gets to work fixing his shredded legs. After about an hour the second Danny pipes up, “hey, Jazz found some more of what is likely the STUPID FUCKING DARTS that did this. And of course there’s no already made cure for it because WHY WOULD THERE FUCKING BE!”. Tucker waves off the Danny “we’ll just have to make our own. Think other you or Jazz could get it here?” Danny shakes his head “no they’ve basically under lockdown till that Danny’s deemed healthy. But I don’t see why this Danny can’t go.” Danny starts to float but prompt slams back down with an angry growl, both Danny’s suddenly look much worse for the wear. “Uh dude, I think that’s not happening. I’ll just go myself.” The Danny slumped on the windowsill flat out growls “this is FUCKING STUPID!”. Sighing Sam asks the Danny she’s working on “should we be concerned?”. That Danny shakes his head tiredly “no it’s just because of all the duplication and actively maintaining 3 bodies. The fucked up Danny’s don’t seem to be a drain but the two true fuckers are”. The other Danny turns his head over “hey, I take offence to that!”. Which causes for Sam to look quite concerned. “Fuckin chill Sam, I’m stuck with this bullshit for now so I’m going to fucking dick around with it. Plasmius I could use a fucking nap”. Danny flops back in the bed, earning a glare from Sam. “I’m trying to fix your legs you know and I hate to say it but this is a lost cause. You are actually going to have to go get this fixed, Danny.” Windowsill Danny is the one to respond “ha! BeCaUsE tHaT wIlL gO oVeR sO fUcKiNg WeLl! Hey, Mr. And Mrs. Fenton your son came in with his legs straight fucked.” Moving his hands wildly “What do you mean he’s sitting on our fucking couch with a probable concussion”. Sam sighs “yeah well, Danny only so much can be done without actual major surgical equipment. And they won’t let even me buy that stuff, they’re afraid of start-up serial killers or something.”. This time bed Danny replied, “well then I’ll just wait my legs out and see if they fix themselves”. Sam stands up so she knows he can see her glaring “Danny that’s completely moronic, the sooner you go the better. This isn’t going to magic itself away.”. All she gets out of bed Danny before he passes out is “says you”.

—During that time at Fenton works—

Jazz watches as Danny just sorta groans and then suddenly looks like he just ran a marathon. “Danny, you alright there?” Concern filling her voice. “Yeah just tired and drained, by now I’d normally have automatically reabsorbed my duplicates but I can’t with the vest on. So I’m still expending energy maintaining them, oh and Tucks on his way over for the darts.” Jazz nods understanding, “I’ll give it to him when he gets here but you need to actually sleep or let the original you sleep.” Danny just tiredly waves her off and he wiggles in his blankets. By the time Tucker gets there Danny is out cold. “Tucker quick question, just how bad are actual Danny’s legs?” Jazz asks as she gives Tucker the darts she found. Tucker, pulling out the one from his pocket confirms they’re the same before answering “pretty bad, the idiot walked with them all busted up”. Jazz sighs “I know, he mentioned that while ranting. I’m not impressed.”. Tucker, chuckling “I don’t think anyone is but-”

Tucker is cut off by a massive explosion. Tucker sighs but Jazz is the one to speak “I don’t want any of hims going off fighting. I don’t care what it is, Danny gets the night off.”. Tucker chuckles “tell that to Danny not me...” Tucker trials off as he stares at the road “oh no”. “Whatever it is Danny’s not dealing with it”. Tucker just side-eyes her, “Uh actually it’s Danny or a Danny that needs to be dealt with”. Jazz juts her head out the door as she says “what?”. Quickly she spots Danny floating in the street with a strange facial expression when it suddenly is above someone house and then slams into a mailbox. “Dear god, that’s one of the wild Danny’s isn’t it. God that’s weird.” Tucker nods “yeah now imagine 40 of them all doing that in a small room”. Tucker turns and waves bye at her as he runs off back to Sam’s. Leaving Jazz to shake her head at Danny’s sleeping form though she pauses when she notices that he almost looks like he’s glitching occasionally. “Well there’s no way that’s good”.

When Tucker gets back he sees that Sam’s side window and wall have all been blown out, one Danny is passed out in the grass and Sam appears to be carrying the other. Shouting at Tucker “we need to get both them somewhere safe to recharge and holy hell you guys were not kidding about these things being hellspawn.”. Just as she finishes a wild Danny knocks her feet out as it slams into them, causing her to fling broken legs Danny on to the ground. Grunting awake, that Danny goes to get up but Tucker rushes over, “dude, no you are way too drained. Go back to sleep.” Tucker, picking him up yells to Sam “grab the other, well take them to Danny’s house. Mines too far away and we have to deal with this bullshit before they destroy the town!”. “Roger that! He can heal faster in his room anyways!” Sam yells back as she hoists up the lawn Danny. Booking it down the street to Danny’s house.

Jazz is watching the board-cast of the dubbed “dannypocalypse” that just started on ghost watch, as Sam and Tucker burst in carrying two unconscious Danny’s. “How the hell aren’t your parents up?” Sam asks as she and Tucker take the Danny’s to his/their room. Once they run back down as quietly as they can Jazz answers “dad can sleep through anything and mom has special earplugs to sleep through dad.”. The two nod as the rush to the lab, coming back up with many thermoses in tow. Quickly running right out the door, shouting back “take couch Danny to his room!”. Jazz quickly does so, though she’s not sure why, before she shakes her head as she turns back to the screen covered in Danny’s going everywhere like ping-pong balls of doom while also teleporting randomly. One flies face first at the camera with its never-changing facial expression, almost making her scream. Shaking herself off “at least they’re all Phantoms, otherwise Danny would be completely outed.”. Jazz opts to go back to the lab, to see what else she can find. It doesn’t take her too long to find the plans for the darts. “Well, this would have been useful to find earlier. Tucker could use these I’m sure.”. Sitting down Jazz elects to read over the plans herself. Eventually wheezing out “oh Danny is going to love this.”.

Sam and Tucker spend most of the night rounding up the Danny’s but early on they had been joined by The Red Huntress. “What the hell are you two doing?!”. Tucker looking up “what does it look like? Making fine wine?”. Gliding down near them she fires a blast at a wild Danny, making it spin but leaving it completely unharmed “what the hell is up with these things!? They're like indestructible!?”. Tucker chuckles as he catches another wild Danny in his thermos. “For once you really truly can blame the Fenton’s!”. Sam shoots Tucker a warning glare but he just rolls his eyes at her. “What the hell do you mean?!” The Red Huntress asks as she full on drops to the ground walking up to Tucker. Tucker whips out his PDA, scrolls a bit and shows her the image some kid had captured of the offending dart hitting Danny in the back with the Fenton’s holding the weapon. Shaking her head “Jesus Christ what the hell was in that! And you’d think after everything they would have stopped going after him!”. Shrugging Sam says “that’s stubborn grown-ups for you”. Eventually catching up a sizeable amount of Danny’s, The Red Huntress walks up to the two of them; deciding now is a good time to have a relaxed conversation in the middle of the street as the remaining wild Danny’s wreak havoc. “you two have any clue where the actual Phantom is or how to fix this?”. Tucker smirks “well hopefully, his resting because there’s no way this” gesturing at the occasional wild Danny, “isn’t exhausting”. She nods curtly “yeah from what I’ve seen duplication is really tiring but there’s something seriously wrong with these duplicates”. Sam mutters under her breath “yeah no shit”. “Well whatever, I’m going to the Fenton’s to see if I can find that dart thing and tear a new one into those idiots.” The Red Huntress turns to leave but Tucker snatches out to grab her arm. “No!” Composing himself as she eyes him annoyed. Tucker fishes in his pants, producing the empty dart “already done and the Fenton’s are sleeping. Personally, I don’t want them waking up to this and trying to “deal with it” themselves.”. The Red Huntress takes the dart and eyes it “I figured as much, you were probably already hanging out at Danny when this happened. Where is Danny anyways?”. Sam and Tucker both shrug unable to come up with a good excuse. “Figures, that kid runs off at the worst of times. But I AM going to Fenton Works and I AM berating those two. They deserve to experience this bullshit, reap what the sow and all that.” The Red Huntress zips away before either can stop her. “Well fuck” is all Tucker has to say as the once hunter of Danny Phantom flies to Danny’s House, which has two too many Danny’s in it. At that moment another car alarm goes of as the stiff arm of a wild Danny impales it.

The Red Huntress speeds over to Fenton works and knocks angrily on the door. Jazz, all too familiar with angry knocks, glares at the door as she walks over “Well look another pissed off basket case, hooray for me.”. Opening the door she’s shocked to find The Red Huntress. Composing herself quickly “let me guess, you want Fenton stuff to help deal with the dannypocalypse?” As The Red Huntress steps in aggressively. “Tucker apparently is already working on the dart thing so no, I’m here to shout angrily at YOUR DAMN PARENTS”. The Red Huntress, quickly stalks up the stairs before Jazz can stop her but just before she gets past Danny’s room one of the Danny’s pitches out the door crashing to the floor in front of her. Both The Red Huntress and Jazz yelp “Danny! Are you ok?”. The Red Huntress momentarily forgets about the Fenton’s in lue of helping Danny. However, one of the other Danny’s was already dragging that Danny by his feet back into the room. Looking up, the second Danny locks eyes with The Red Huntress‘s helmet. Who quickly jerks her head up and down from Danny to Danny as Jazz just stares in shock. “Danny? Danny what the HELL!” The Red Huntress borderline yells but is quickly hushed by Jazz as the floor Danny replies “Uh, hi?” As the third Danny, with still broken legs groans “THIS DAY COULDN'T GET ANY MORE FUCKING PERFECT!”. Causing The Red Huntress to shove her head in the door as Jazz pinches her nose. The Red Huntress, no longer giving a shit, as she takes in the sight of a third Danny, rips off her helmet off. “WHAT THE FUCK!”. Jazz throws her hands up completely giving up on the hope of some peace and quiet. She then follows Valarie, as she storms in. Jazz stops to help second Danny heave the floor Danny off the floor and onto a beanie-bag. Sighing “why can’t you ever just let yourself sleep, Danny”. Valarie paces back and forth. “Why are there three of you? HOW are the three of you? What is going on? WHO ARE YOU?!”. Danny mutters “a lot of fucking bullshit that’s what” before genuinely responding. “Now is like the worst fucking time Valarie, BUT GOOD GOD DAMN FUCK IT!”. The broken Danny flails his arms straight up smacking another Danny in the face. Beanie-bag Danny and just-fucking-smacked-in-the-face Danny turn and glare at broken Danny. “I will hit me IF I DAMN WELL WANT TO!” Broken Danny shouts as the just-fucking-smacked-in-the-face Danny starts weakly smacking him, which then descends into a slap fight. Valarie rips them apart shouting “I’ll repeat WHAT THE FUCK DANNY!”. The beanie-bag Danny stands up and points at her as she turns her head to him, still holding the two other Danny’s wrists in the air. “EVERY SINGLE KIND OF FUCK! EVERY SINGLE ONE! FENTON PHANTOM FENTON PHANTOM! SAME FUCKING THING! NOW PUT ME DOWN!”. Jazz then realized that broken Danny’s actually being lifted off the bed as Valarie quickly drops both Danny’s. Broken Danny rubs a hand down his left leg “fucking Christ FUCK ME SO MUCH!” Jazz runs over, yanking his pant leg up to check for bleeding. Groaning, she runs downstairs to get fresh bandaging. Valarie wide-eyed and worried “what happened to your leg?” And not even half a second later “WAIT WHAT DO YOU MEAN “SAME FUCKING THING!” WHAT THE FUCK!”. The Danny that was previously on a beanie-bag grabs her shoulders, spinning her around, and just straight up transforms into Phantom in front of her. “HOW THE FUCK!” Valarie jumps a couple of inches off the floor and nearly falls over but standing Danny Fenton catches her. Just as Sam, Tucker and Jazz all run into the room.

“Wow, didn’t know you two? Had gotten back together” Sam smirks with a hand on her hip as she waves around her thermos. Danny Phantom, being closest to the door, looks them up and down; noting their dishevelled appearances. “Ok, what the fuck did I miss?”. Valarie, struggling back to her feet, “we haven’t and how? Seriously how? Did you miss THE FUCKING SWARM OF PHANTOMS OUTSIDE!” All three Danny’s snap their heads to Sam and Tucker as Jazz slips over to broken Danny, getting to work on his leg. Sam noticing “did you fuck your legs up again you moron?”. While Tucker explains “the wild Danny’s all fucking escaped dude”. All three Danny’s shout “WHAT!”. Everyone flinching to cover their ears, Tucker turns to Jazz “how in the hell are your parents still asleep?”. At this Jazz just shrugs. Meanwhile, Sam groans out “yeah and they blew up my damn room, I don’t even have walls anymore!”. Valarie starts waving her hands around “whoa whoa, wait what? You mean to tell me you already captured them all once! And again What. The. Hell. Danny!”. Jazz sighs “ apparently they did and the rundown is basically-” taking a deep breath “Danny is half ghost and Phantom is his ghost form. The basement ghost portal messed him up when it turned on-“ broken Danny cutting in “with me inside it, might I fucking remind you”. Jazz continuing, “-basically half killing him. But our parents don’t know so could you. Stop. Shouting.”. Valarie looks from Danny to Danny, taking in all three. Slightly hurt, “why didn’t you FUCKING TELL ME YOU MORON! I’ve been fucking hunting you and all this fucking time you-! I could have KILLED YOU!” Suddenly one last wild Danny wizzes past the window as Tucker groans running down the steps. Valarie, sitting down finally, “and what the hell danny, how did this and that happen?!” She gestures towards the three Danny’s and then jab’s her thumb at the window. Phantom explaining, for what feels like the 50th time, “parents chase me. Duplicate to escape, twice. Get darted. Wild Danny’s everywhere. And before you ask, I DO NOT HAVE ANY FUCKING CONTROL OVER THEM!”. “And the legs?” Valerie asks. As Sam and Jazz say in unison “he jumped through a window”. Valarie looks at the broken Danny “and why didn’t you just float or whatever you moron.”. Broken Danny crosses his arms “I was too fucking exhausted ok. I’d been running all fucking day. And as soon as my parents found Fenton me they had the FUCKING AUDACITY TO ASK ME WHERE I HAD BEEN ALL FUCKING DAY!”. Tucker coming back in shakes his head “dude, at this point you should just tell them.”. All the Danny’s roll their eyes and broken Danny asks “so have you figured out how to fix this yet so I can take this STUPID FUCKING THING OFF!” Danny points at his vest. Tucker just lets his hands fall limp to his sides “dude, I haven’t even had a chance to look at the darts. I’ve been chasing yous all over town.”. Jazz perks up as she remembers the dart plans, pulling them out of her back pocket she shoves them at broken Danny. “I found this in the lab after Tucker left. Thankfully, it’s not harmful but well...” she trails off as Danny glares angrily at the paper, then Tucker grabs it away . Slowly the paper is passed around as everyone, even Valarie begins to snicker. Not-broken Danny Fenton mutters “I’m going to fucking kill you all.”. Jazz smirks, “Danny, it’s pretty funny. If you had used literally any other power before getting darted you wouldn’t be in this mess.”. Broken Danny crosses his arms and grumbles “I was conserving energy”. “And there lies the irony” Tucker says sticking a finger in the air “in trying to conserve energy you stuck yourself in a way where you expend even more energy”. Earning a glare from Danny, “I will strangle you in your sleep.”. Jazz smacks his head, “not on these legs you won’t”. Danny smacks his own forehead “I really am a dumbass”. Tucker smirks as he says “that’s what we’ve all been telling you, dude” as broken Danny sits up and simultaneous changes to Phantom and into his ghostly tail. Everyone jerks at the loud snapping sounds that makes. “DANNY WHAT THE FUCK!”, “YOU REALISE YOU’RE A DUMBASS ONLY TO BE A DUMBASS!”, “HOW DOES THIS HELP ANYTHING!”. Broken Danny rolls his eyes as he changes his tail back to legs. Having functionally, reset every piece of bone into its rightful spot. Sam just gapes “how the?”. As she runs over inspecting his still mangled legs but no longer with bones or bone chips out of place. “I’m not sure whether to call you a dumbass for not doing that sooner or call you a genius for knowing that would work.”. Tucker eyes Danny, “you did know that would work right?”. All three Dannys’ just shrug as everyone else sighs. Tucker turning back to the plans and the darts in hand “I’m going to be in the lab actually getting somewhere on this.” He jumps down the steps two at a time.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, “So how the hell have you guys been telling the Dannys’ apart?”. Both Sam and slightly-less-broken-but-still-broken Danny answer “we haven’t been”. Danny, shrugging “they’re all me so it doesn’t really matter which one you talk to”. Valarie shakes her head “yeah well, that’s too damn weird for me today. I’m all maxed out on weird.”. Sam sighs “ok then...how the hell are we going to tell you three apart.” As she turns to face the Danny that’s closest to her, which happens to be broken Danny. “Well doesn’t Original Danny have to wear the suppressor vest, so he’s easy” Jazz supplies. “Well that still leaves two” Valarie grumbles, still rather freaked out at the sight of three Dannys’.

“You know what? We’ll just fucking wear wrist bands” as broken Danny grabs a white cuff, Fenton Danny puts on a black cuff, and Phantom Danny lifts up a green cuff. Jazz, taking the three in, “yeah, that’ll work. Subtle but noticeable, comfy yet stylish.”. Tucker interjects through Danny’s phone “and in your colours, all you’d need is red and you’d have your entire make up.” White Danny rolls his eyes, “Tuck, I also have blue eyes.”. Everyone can hear Tucker slap his own face as Valarie mutters “are we just going to ignore that Tucker’s on the phone without there being a call”. White Danny rolls his eyes “he fucking hacked it, what’s new... though he SHOULD BE FOCUSED ON OTHER THINGS!” White Danny finishes, shouting. “It’s not like I’m holding the damn phone and you know how I hate being out of the loop.”, to Tucker’s credit they can hear him tinkering away. “If anyone gets to be pissy about being out of the loop it’s me, YOU FUCKS!” Valerie cuts in as black Danny rubs his neck. As white Danny yells,“Well, you spent all your time TRYING TO FUCKING MURDER ME!” She glares at him and huffs “I WOULD HAVE STOPPED IF YOU FUCKING TOLD ME!”. Black Danny throws his hands up, “I AINT NO FUCKING MINDREADER! MAYBE YOU SHOULD HAVE FUCKING ASKED!” Valerie gaps at him, “HOW THE FUCK WAS I EVEN SUPPOSED TO KNOW THIS SHIT WAS POSSIBLE! NO ONE ASKS ABOUT THE IMPOSSIBLE DANNY!” Sam smirks, “and that right there is why no one has figured you out yet Danny.”. Green Danny glares at Sam, “WELL THAT’S FUCKING STUPID AND THIS TOWN IS FUCKING STUPID!”. Everyone else just shrugs, unable to disagree. Then a realization dawns on Valerie, “you, you fucking dated me even though you knew I was trying to kill you?” Sam nods as does every Danny. “ARE YOU COMPLETELY INSANE!”. Sam smirks, “that’s what I said. But Mr. Deathwish over here didn’t care”. “LET ME BURY MY SELF PRESERVATION IN PEACE!”. As both Sam and Valerie groan, white Danny rubs at his chest annoyed that it seems tighter. When suddenly he hears cracking sounds and all the Danny’s look at the vest.

“OH, YOU HAVE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!” White Danny cries as he watches the pieces of his suppression vest explode outwards, as if in slow-motion. Instantaneously, over three hundred wild Danny’s’ explode out of him like an absurdist supernova. The grand overwhelming mass of Dannys’ blasts out Danny’s walls, floor and ceiling, destroying half the house and leaving Danny and co. Sprawled all over the blast site. Somehow, through sheer cosmic luck, his parents' bedroom and lab are fully intact; parents still sound asleep. White Danny stands slouching in the centre of everything, wild-eyed and growling. Eventually, as Sam and the two other Danny’s stagger up, white Danny shouts “FUCK ME AND MY VERY EXISTENCE! I AM AN AFRONT TO GOD AND I FUCKING LIKE IT THAT WAY!” before he collapses, unconscious. Valerie rolls over, covered in dirt and a knife? As hundreds of wild Danny’s spin, smack, and crash everywhere. Jazz wanders over to the tv as it springs back to life telling of the dannypocalypse’s sudden return after mysteriously vanishing. Tucker groans “Not again...”. Valarie violently shakes black Danny “WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO THAT FOR YOU MORON!-“ only to get cut off by a wild Danny. Suddenly Tucker bolts up fucking sprinting at the lab, being the only one to notice in the mayhem that even more wild Danny’s are being formed at this very second. He doesn’t even bother taking the stairs, just straight flings himself down. Moving wildly to piece together a fix for this bullshit. Chanting, “fuck me, fuck this, fuck everything”. His manic inventing is highlighted by a backdrop of screaming, destruction, thermos noises, and an endless waterfall of swears.

Up above Sam screams “TUCK WHERE’S THE OTHER DAMN VEST!? TUCK!” Looking around unable to find him “FOR FUCKS SAKE! YOU BETTER BE EITHER DEAD OR OFF DOING SOMETHING USEFUL OR SO HELP ME!”. The two Danny’s aggressively slap the hell out of white Danny’s face, “WAKE UP LUETENET!”. Valarie glares at them as she pole vaults over a wild Danny only to get smacked by two others, “THIS IS NOT THE TIME FOR VIDEO GAME REFERENCES! HOLY SHIT! IS EVERYTHING A JOKE TO YOU!”. White Danny is slapped into consciousness just in time to hear that last bit. “YOU BET IT FUCKING IS! I DO WHAT I WANT BECAUSE I! AM! GOD!”. A sledgeHammer slams into the white Danny’s feet, “MUST GOD MOCK ME!”. Looking around the trio of Danny’s realizes the wild Danny’s, in their wild workings, are kicking up and flinging around all the contents he’s stored in that part of the house for years. “I THOUGH YOU WERE GOD”, Valarie shouts back as green Danny dive bombs her from behind. “YEAH AND I’M MOCKING MYSELF!”, Green Danny shouts at her as he rolls away from an incoming wild Danny that has two knives sticking out its chest. “WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR! YOU MADE ME MISS!” Green Danny just glares and points to the needles stabbed into the ground where she once was. “WHAT THE FUCK! WHY ARE THEY THROWING STUFF!”. Sam slams up against the last bit of inside kitchen wall, the five others running to join her; thermos’s all full. Sam wags her finger at white Danny, “NOT YOU! YOU'LL JUST FILL THE INSIDE OF THE HOUSE WITH THESE HELLSPAWN”. White Danny stops, growls and throws his arms out to the side “FUCK YOU TOO THEN!”. Just as a new wild Danny spawns out of him and collides head-on with another wild Danny, inches away from white Danny. The impact sends him flying into the road. Sam and the others can’t see him but they do hear all three Danny’s, two of which are inside with Sam, Jazz and Valarie, shout “HAVEN'T MY LEGS SUFFERED ENOUGH FOR MY SINS!”. Sam shakes her head and mutters “Jesus fucking Christ. I don’t have any more damn bandages.”. Valarie grabs the black Danny “again, WHY THE FUCK are they throwing stuff!”. Danny shoves her off him with his teeth bared, “their FUCKING NOT.”. Jazz interrupts, “I think what Danny’s trying to say is, their stirring up everything in their path and by sheer velocity sending every piece of debris and random items all over the place.”. Valarie looking outside, “WHY THE FUCK DO YOU OWN SO MANY WEAPONS AND SHARP THINGS!”. Sam just sighs, “blame Danny, he hides things intangibly inside his walls. He probably has enough to supply an army in his room walls alone”. “OF COURSE I FUCKING DO! HAVE YOU SEEN MY FUCKING LIFE!”. Hearing a sudden explosion down the street, “Danny, even I think it’s completely insane to keep FUCKING GRENADES inside the walls”. Jazz jumps in just as a wild Danny head smashes its head straight through the only unbroken window, expression never changing. “HOLY FUCK!...and Danny, why the hell would you make you own room a death trap!”. “BECAUSE DEATH GIVES ME LIFE AND EVERY TIME I NEED SOMETHING IT’S FUCKING MOVED! IF ONLY I CAN TOUCH IT THEN NO ONE CAN FUCK WITH MY SHIT!” both Danny’s spin around and crouch, ready to pounce, as Tucker races up the steps, his glasses missing a lense. Bending over and huffing wildly he sticks his hand out, a funky blue dart in it. Green Danny, straightening up, mutters, “you just had to make it blue to spite me didn’t you.” Everyone can see Tucker’s grin as he tilts his head up, other hand still on his knees “now your fucking complete, dude. And I am redeemed.” Sam just shakes her head as she grabs the dart and shoves into green Danny’s palm. “You’re the one with ghost powers and you’re the one duplicating to hell and back. Go fix your shit.”. Valarie steps up, “oh hell no, this moron is not going by himself.” Black Danny puts his hands on hips, “NO FUCKING SHIT”. Valarie just glares at black Danny “YOU’RE BOTH THE SAME DAMN PERSON! IT DOESN'T COUNT! A MORON TIMES TWO IS STILL A MORON!”. Sam groans, “just go out there you angry babies, sweet Plasmius.”. Both Danny’s and Valerie roll their eyes at Sam as they bolt out. Sam leans over to Jazz, “they’re so getting back together”. Tucker smirks as he overhears, “they’re our atomic power couple, get it? Since their both walking warheads?”. Jazz groans, “Danny has tainted you.”. Sam just shrugs, “well, they are a match made in anger, clearly.”. Tucker flops down onto the ground as the house shakes and a wild Danny comes crashing in and just starts ping-pong bouncing around. The three swat at it with brooms. Jazz shakes her head, “I think I better grab more thermos’s. We don’t know that Danny will be able to reabsorb any of these monstrosities.”. Sam calls to her as Jazz runs over to the lab, lightly stepping over needles, knives, two swords and what looks like a jigsaw trap?, “Ms. Psychology textbook! why is it that teenage super heroes are all so angry and aggressive?”. Jazz yells from down the steps “because the ones who aren’t die!” Continuing as she comes back up, arms full of sweet sweet thermos, “you can’t face the things they do, day after day, carry the responsibilities, and keep deep secrets like that; without being an energetic firecracker. Aggressive anger is like determination on steroids.”. Handing out the thermos’s they prepare for another assault on the wild Danny’s as they hear someone, most likely a Danny shout, “VEHICULAR MANSLAUGHTER YOU FUCKING FUCK!”. They come out in time to see Valerie, on her board, straight up throw one of the “normal” Danny’s at the white Danny. While the other “normal” Danny is two foot stomping on the face of a wild Danny. The three regular humans blast their thermos’s in random directions other than where the three Danny’s are, because the damn wild Danny’s are literally everywhere. Tucker slams the thermos down on the head of a wild Danny just in time to see green Danny flying jab white Danny in the chest with the dart, as white Danny physically flings himself at the impact. Both of whom are snarling, teeth fully bared as they do so. “WHAT IS HE TRYING TO DO! PIERCE HIMSELF STRAIGHT THROUGH OR SOMETHING!” Tucker cries. Sam winds up rolling through a bunch of used bloody bandages at the same time that three becomes one, again. “Can’t he at least throw this stuff out? Lazy fucker”. Danny, all back together, fucking books it over to Jazz who throws a thermos straight at his face, he lets it slam into his face. Muttering, while laying on the ground “now that tickled my nostalgia bone”. Jazz just sighs as everyone continues catching all the wild Danny’s throughout the night.

“Remind me to never use duplication to escape my parents ever again.” Danny groans, as he slumps against a wall. “the only positive is that this has to be a new Highscore for number of times one of us almost died.”. Tucker exhausted slaps him in the chest, “I say lets beat it next year”. Jazz jerks her head over to the boys “absolutely not and Danny sit down. There’s no way your legs are healed.”. At this Danny starts laughing “what the fuck does healed even mean anymore!?”. Jazz grimaces at this. Sam drags Valerie over to the three, “I say we head back to Danny’s, it’s the only place where we won’t get into serious trouble.”. Danny and Jazz scoff “hell they’d be proud”. Jazz adding, “plus we have to make up an explanation for the house.”. “Fuck that! I ain’t doing that! I say watch the fucking news, that’s the fucking story right there!”. Jazz looks at Danny “you know they’ll blame Phantom?”. “NO FUCKING SHIT! DO I CARE!? FUCKING NO!”. Sam smirks, “you could just tell them everything, Pan Fan included”. Danny glares “FUCK NO! EAT A DICK SAM!”. She just rolls her eyes “I can’t, I’m vegan.”. Valarie groans “Uh guys I’d like a couch right about now. And what’s a Pan Fan?”. Danny goes and scoops her up bridal style and just walks off, “Pan means Phantom, Fan means Fenton” calling back to the others “you fucks coming or what?”. As Jazz trails after him scolding him about walking on his, still, broken legs. While Danny and Valerie mutter about code words. Tucker and Sam watch them go a bit before following themselves. Quickly the yard comes into view, Jazz can’t help but shake her head, “how did you even fit half this into your walls Danny.”. “Fucking creatively that’s how, and now there’s NOWHERE TO FUCKING PUT IT!”, Valerie slaps him, “my ears are right here you moron. I would like to keep my eardrums thank you very much.”. Tucker just chuckles “ears, who needs ‘em”. Valerie kicks him with her foot, still being carried by Danny. “Me, that’s who.”. Stepping over many sharp things, the group heads up to where the door used to be.

Maddie and Jack wake up just as the five walk inside. Jack hardly seems to notice the destruction but Maddie is stunned. Sam just turns on the tv to the ghost news as Danny lays Valerie down on the half-destroyed couch. Maddie only takes in the absurd carnage on tv for a little while before turning her attention to the kids. Who are all varying levels of beat up. Danny and Valerie are technically the worst but Danny doesn’t really count. But being ever the mother and not knowing any better, Maddie runs to her son first and demands he sit down. “Danny! What are you doing! You were in no condition to even be leaving the house!” Danny rubs the back of his neck, “things happened and like I said I. Am. Fine.” Sam can’t help but snicker as Danny has to hold his tongue around his parents, they don’t tolerate swearing very well. Maddie just shakes her head, “all of you are going to the hospital now. No buts, Fenton Assualt Vehicle. Now.”. This time Maddie carries the little hunter and they all head off to the, very overcrowded hospital. On the ride there they discuss what happened and in a surprise to no one, they blame Phantom and thinking he must have messed with their dart somehow to cause this. Regardless they scrap the dart project.

Luckily, Danny’s ectoplasm levels are so low from overexertion that he doesn’t raise any red flags in Amity. So he gets off with only leg casts, yes two of them. “Would you look at that, you wound up in the hospital anyways.” Sam gloats. “Yeah and the best part? I CAN’T ACTUALLY TAKE THEM OFF!” Danny flails his now healed up legs around, though he wouldn’t be allowed to remove the casts for months. Since the doctors don’t know shit about him being a halfa or halfa healing. Tucker raises an eyebrow at Sam, Sam leans over and explains “his parents had them lined with anti-ghost thread so they won’t even come off in ghost form.” At this Tucker bursts out laughing. “OH FUCK YOU TOO! YOU CAN BOTH DROWN IN FIRE!”. Tucker waves a hand at Danny, “oh you love us” as Danny grumbles.

All over town, there’s Danny shaped dent marks, impalement holes and other generalized destruction. But, like always, Fenton Works looks the most absurd. There are hundreds of weapons of increasing absurdity strewn all over the yard, house and road. Most of them are actually Danny’s, though his parents don’t know that. Jazz managed to convince their parents to let them, with Sam, Tucker and Valerie’s help of course, to clean up the outside. So long as Danny swore to stay in a chair the entire time, much to him and his constant-need-for-action’s, dismay. While cleaning Sam raises an eyebrow at an oddly fish shaped knife, “So what are we going to do with all the wild Danny’s?”. Both Valarie and Danny grin evilly, responding with only one word, “Vlad”. Not even two hours later, only managing to not break Danny’s promise by carrying the entire chair with them, a mysterious package arrives at Vlad’s mansion. Being so egotistical that he refuses to believe anything could really harm him, Vlad idiotically brings it inside to open it. He doesn’t know yet just how idiotic that will truly be.

End.

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orbsdotorg · 6 years ago

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Games of the Year 2018

It’s December and the game awards are almost here so whatever, I’m gonna do one of these. I’m bad at choosing an actual favorite, so in no real order here’s what I liked.

Spider-Man (PS4) - Not really a ton to say here that hasn’t been said elsewhere, this was just a big sloppy love letter to decades of Spider-Man continuity and a ton of fun to play. It also feels like an amalgamation of everything that’s worked in recent open-world action games, from Assassin’s Creed-style collectibles to a tighter, faster version of the Arkham games’ counter-and-gadget based combat. It wasn’t revolutionary in any one aspect, but it all fit together brilliantly. Yeah, the whole “Spider-Man is a cop now” thing sucked, but beneath that it was a story about how being a hero is good and doing the right thing can be fun, which felt really refreshing in a year full of excessively grimdark protagonists.

Yakuza 6 (PS4) - I’m gonna talk a lot here about what didn’t work in this game. Namely, that as a finale for Kiryu as the series protagonist it felt less satisfying than the ending of Yakuza 5, which was, tbh, a much better game. Or that it had a really weird attitude towards women, sidelining Haruka for most of the game and including a camgirl minigame that feels like a creepier, more sexualized version of previous games’ hostess clubs. But here’s the thing: it’s still Yakuza, and even mediocre Yakuza is better than most of whats on the market at any given time. The combat felt great, the plotting was as pleasantly baffling as ever, and Kiryu is as lovably oblivious of everything as always. Maybe better Yakuza games came out this year, but this was the one I, uh, played, so it’s the one on my list.

World of Warcraft: Battle for Azeroth (PC) - I’m one of those people who only really drops back into WoW for a month or two when the new expansion releases, more out of a sense of curiosity than anything, but hoo boy. There’s no fucking reason a 14 year old game should feel this fresh. BfA is a highpoint for the game in terms of both storytelling and world design, with each of the new zones feeling more well-designed and just more fun than the game has in a while. The Witcher-inspired haunted forests of Drustvar in particular stand out, full of entertaining storylines and cool visuals. Some of the new features, especially the upgradable Azerite gear, feel like watered down versions of stuff that worked in Legion, but it’s already being tweaked in interesting ways, and there’s enough here to enjoy until they work out the kinks.

The Hex (PC) - Maybe this doesn’t have the high profile the other games on my list do, but there’s not much I can say here without getting into spoiler territory. It starts with a group of characters from different game genres gathered at a bar, where the owner gets a phone call informing him that someone will soon be murdered. What spins out from there is a heavily meta story about game development and game fandom, one that’s endlessly inventive both in terms of gameplay and narrative. I don’t want to say anymore because you should really experience it for yourself (it’s dirt cheap), but seriously, it packs more evocative storytelling and fun, intuitive gameplay mechanics into five hours than some other games did into forty-plus this year. Every time I thought I had a handle on what it was, it pulled another trick out of its hat. Cannot recommend this one enough.

Forza Horizon 4 (Xbox One) - I really, really like racing games. There’s something about driving really fast that just hits me right in lizard part of my brain. Forza’s Horizon spinoff series, about a roving racing/EDM festival full of instagram influencers driving ridiculously expensive supercars around stupidly beautiful countrysides, has always been a particular favorite, and FH4 is far and away the pinnacle of the series. It not only added some great singleplayer features (customizable driver outfits, surprisingly fun “stories”, a Halo showcase race that’s imo the best playable Halo thing ever), it completely nailed the multiplayer. Once you’ve proved yourself on your own, you’re dropped onto a live server with 71 other players (who all harmlessly ghost through each other, thank god) who you’re free to challenge or just honk your custom horn at as you freeroam looking new challenges and races. Plus, the in-game season changes every real-world week, bringing new “seasonal” stuff and fundamentally changing how every race feels. There are also hourly “live challenges”, where everyone on the server works together to hit a goal and earn some currency to spend on weekly rewards. Showing up at a live event starting area and doing donuts with a bunch of other people, all complimenting each other’s paintjobs, while we waited for the event to start is probably the least toxic multiplayer I’ve ever played. Honestly, if I had to pick one game on the list to give a GOTY thing to, it’d be Forza. Do not @ me.

#just a reminder that this is completely objective and if you disagree youre wrong

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bazypitchandsimonsnow · 7 years ago

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The Proposal Plot

Rating: T

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 5146

Summary: Baz is planning to propose to his incredible idiot boyfriend. Hopefully his plot goes off without a hitch. Based on "a confession" request.

Read on AO3

AN: So I know I'm churning these requests out now, but that won't be forever because in June I start working full time. I hope to get through these requests before then but no promises. Just wanted to warn you guys so you won't be freaked by a sudden lack of my fics lol. Anyways, enjoy!

———————————————-

Baz

Okay, Baz, just breathe, don’t be nervous. You’ve planned everything out. This isn’t even a big deal. You and Snow have been together for seven years now. You two have already decided how you want to spend your lives together. Marriage won’t be that different. It’ll be like normal, just including a ring and a new title for each other. Well, plus a wedding. And first I have to actually propose...

I’ve planned literally everything. Every detail is accounted for. Simon will be home in approximately six minutes. I let him know we’re having a nice dinner tonight this morning. The steak is already cooked, the roast potatoes and greens have just finished, and the scones are keeping warm in the oven. I found the perfect plate for my idea too. It’s a white ceramic platter that Daphne gave us as a house warming present when we moved in. There’s a little circular indent in the centre, which is odd for any usual use, but perfect for hiding an engagement ring under a pile of scones.

It’s a dumb idea. A dumb, romantic, sappy idea that Simon will adore. I’ve learned over the years that he loves romantic gestures big or small. I took him to the London Eye for our first anniversary and he couldn’t stop grinning the entire time. But he looks the same way every time I put on his favourite shitty pop song while we do dishes. So he’ll love this...right? He could hate it. What if he thinks it’s a dumb idea? What if he laughs in my face? What if-

I’m jolted out of my thoughts by the phone ringing. The caller ID says “Best Aunt In The World”. (Fiona stole my phone a few months ago, and I haven’t gotten around to changing it.) Against my better judgement, I press the green phone button.

“What is it? You know I’m busy tonight,” I snap.

“I sensed a disturbance in the Force,” Fiona replies. I can hear the smirk in her voice.

“You’re a witch, not a Jedi.”

“Okay, true, but I know you. And you’re currently overthinking, aren’t you?”

I drum my fingers slowly on the counter, answering slowly. “No.”

“Liar” she hisses. “Stop freaking out and relax. It’ll go great.”

“You said my idea was dumb.”

“Yeah, but I said it with a smile.”

“And that’s better because...?”

“Because, it’s a dumb, sweet, romantic idea. You love the Chosen One enough to act like a sappy idiot. That’s wonderful, so I’m happy for you and want you to go through with it.”

I smile slightly. “Thank you, Aunt Fiona.”

“Now, stop panicking and have fun, love. Oh, and don’t let any numpties ruin it!”

“Oh for Merlin’s sake, will shut up abou-” The phone clicks off. I can’t believe she still says that to me. It’s been literal years since I was kidnapped but she won’t ever let me forget it.

I sigh and hang my head down. Despite her words of encouragement, I’m still nervous. Even though I’m pretty sure Simon will say yes, I don’t want to fuck this up. Snow is a hopeless romantic who I love dearly. He deserves a stupid, sappy proposal. And I desperately want to be the one to give it to him.

The door slams shut and I nearly jump. There’s a low groan from the entrance way that I know has to be my lovely graceless boyfriend’s.

“Oh my god, work was a nightmare today!” He shouts. “Do you know how many children insisted on having their noses wiped? Are they not capable of doing it themselves?”

“No, they’re not, Snow. They’re two,” I reply while walking towards our front hall.

“Well, they could learn!”

“You could teach them.”

“Yeah, like I have the time. I’m a daycare worker, I’ve got 30 kids to look after.”

“Then don’t complain.”

I stop at the end of the hall and lean on the wall. Simon is struggling with his sneaker, hopping on one foot while nearly falling over with the weight of his bookbag. There’s finger paint all over his face and snacktime stains on his shirt. He looks like an idiot who just survived a toddler hurricane.

Crowley, I love him.

He finally wins his battle with his sneaker, then looks up at him with a soft smile. We walk towards each other like always. His arms wrap around my neck, I hold his waist, and kisses me. It’s just a little firmer than a peck. And even after all these years it still makes my pulse stutter.

We pull apart and he looks over my shoulder. “Wow,” he says, “when you said nice dinner, I didn’t think you meant this nice.”

Truthfully, it’s not that nice. Growing up as part of a rich British family means I’ve been to much nicer. But I didn’t want to go overboard and give away what I was doing. In hindsight though, it’s pretty nice for us. There’s placemats, properly folded napkins, nice china, low lighting. I thought about using candles, but that seemed a bit excessive. So I went with some nice warm lamps instead of our bright LED overheads.

“I decided we deserve a nice meal every once in awhile,” I say thankfully without a nervous voice crack. “Normal people prefer china plates to plastic, y’know.”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, a very Bunce-like gesture. “Sure, Mr. Fancy Pants. And speaking of pants, I should go change out of these child destroyed clothes. I feel so messy compared to you.”

I chuckle. I’m not that dressed up, wearing a loose white shirt and and jeans, but it’s more than a sweatshirt and trackies. (Which I’ve learned more are relaxing to wear around the house than jeans.) I did pick these on purpose though. Like Hell if I’m proposing to the love of my life in lazy clothes.

“Go get changed love,” I say, pressing a peck to his cheek. “I’ll get supper ready.”

Simon kisses my cheek as well, then saunters off to our bedroom. I walk to the kitchen. Everything is still warm, it won’t take long to set up. So I take a minute to open the everything drawer. It’s where we put whatever doesn’t have a place, and right now it’s home to a little red velvet box. I run my fingers over the fuzzy surface, then quietly open the snap hinge. It’s not a flashy ring because Simon isn’t a flashy person. And that’s not a slight against him, it’s just who he is, and I know that. It’s something that he’d like to wear, a simple gold band with circles carved around the surface. I had the inside engraved as well. Niall faked gagged when I proposed the idea while we were ring shopping. He called me tooth rotting sweet. I hope Simon thinks so too.

I shake out of my thoughts and snapped the box closed. No, I can’t dwell on that. The time will come. Instead, I focus on making dinner. I arrange the plates in a showy manner I remember seeing from my childhood. I check on the scones, which are still warm in the oven. I’ll leave them alone until they’re big debut.

Just as am I placing down the plates, Simon walks out. Surprisingly, he’s not wearing his typical loose t-shirt and track pants, but a clean green button down and denim. It’s some of his nicer clothes. Guess he wanted to dress up along with me.

“Dinner is served,” I say overdramatically. He laughs, and it makes me smile.

We sit opposite each other at our small table as usual and dig in. He doesn’t eat as quickly anymore, since he feels more assured that his meals won’t vanish or be his last now. I don’t cover my mouth when I eat anymore either, because I’m no longer afraid of him seeing my fangs. We discuss all the usual things. How work was, funny things we saw, which coworkers we want to stuff down a toilet. All filled with laughter and smiles. It’s so normal. And miraculously, it’s our lives. Our normal, happy life together.

“Oh man,” Simon groans happily, holding his stomach, “that was incredible.”

“Glad to hear it,” I say as I clear the plates. “Hope you have room for dessert.”

He perks up very quickly at the word ‘dessert’. “I love you so much.”

“Of course you do. The way to your heart is through your stomach.”

He stick his tongue out, but he’s still grinning. I smile back just as I enter the kitchen. Once the plates are dumped in the sink, I take the scones out of the oven. They smell delicious. I must remember to send Cook Pritchard a massive bouquet in thanks for her recipe. I take out the platter, and then I take out the ring. I can’t help but simply look at it. I want to spend the rest of my life with Simon no matter what, and I already know he feels the same. But I want to get this right. Because we never thought we’d get this far, and we deserve to have a stupidly romantic proposal.

I place the ring in the centre of the platter, then carefully arrange the pastries over and around it. It’s hard to hide it while making the scones look natural. Once I’m satisfied with appearance (mostly), I take a deep breath and re-enter the dining room. Simon’s looking at something in his lap. But when I clear my throat, his head snaps up. He looks deep in thought for a moment before sees the scones and smiles.

“Sour cherry scones?” He asks playfully.

“What else?” I reply as I carefully set the plate down on the table.

He immediately snatches the one on top, and I take the one below. I don’t even attempt to talk to him while he’s inhaling his scones. I look at him though. My stomach’s in knots, both from nerves and anticipation. I take one more and let him have the rest. Soon, there’s only one left, the one that’s covering the ring underneath. He finishes his latest scone. He’s going to reach for it. Crowley, this it. I take a deep breath, and...

He’s stopped. Why has he stopped?

“Uh,” I say, “do you not want the last one?”

“No you can have it,” Simon replies with a grin.

Oh Merlin and Morgana, it’s Watford all over again; Simon Snow messing up my plots. “No, no, I’m full. You can have it.” Eat the fucking scone, Snow.

“No it’s fine. I’m full too.”

We sit in silence and stare each other. It’s a true British politeness stalemate. After many minutes of uncomfortable moments, I lean forward, but so does he.

“Simon, I-

“Baz, I-”

We both say it at the same time, blinking at each other slowly for a minute. Simon is the one who breaks the silence this time.

“Oh you go first, sorry.”

I shake my head. “No, no, you go first. It can wait.” It really can’t, but I want Simon to be focused when I ask him.

Simon slowly nods. He takes a deep breath and rolls his shoulders. Hm, whatever he wants to say seems to be causing him tension. That’s...odd.

“Okay, so,” he starts, obviously trying to keep his voice calm, “Baz, we’ve been together awhile.”

“I’m aware,” I reply with a smirk I can’t help. He rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, shut up, prick. So, we’ve been together for seven years now, and I gotta say I’ve been...really happy. Like, it hasn’t perfect of course, but overall it’s been pretty amazing. And you’re pretty amazing. The first few years after Watford I was a complete mess but you stuck by me. I will always appreciate that so fucking much. As well as everything else you’ve done. You make me really happy all the time.” He reaches across the table and puts his hand over mine. “I-I guess what I’m trying to say in too many stupid words is that, I love you, Baz. I really mean that.”

I squeeze his hand, loving the way it feels. But where is he going with this? “I love you too, Simon.”

He takes another deep breath. “What I’m also trying to say, is that I love our life. And you’re the love of my life. And I want to tell and show everyone. So...”

Oh...oh Crowley, is he doing what I think he’s doing?! He uses his other hand to reach down into his lap. As he slowly raises it back up, my heart beats faster and faster. And when he places his hand on the table, it stops entirely.

It’s a box. A black velvet ring box.

“I was going to save this for later,” he says sheepishly, “but this dinner was so good, and the moment felt right, so I’ve decided to just go for it. So, Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch,” he uses his strong fingers to open the box with one hand, “will you marry me?”

I’m speechless. It’s been years since I was this speechless. I’m pretty sure my mouth is hanging open wide enough to catch flies. I keep staring at the ring. It’s...gorgeous; a thick men’s band, mostly jet black with a line of silver in the middle. It’s sleek, elegant, and dark. Exactly something I’d love. I know that I know Simon well, but sometimes I forget just how well he knows me too.

I look back up at him, and he looks very nervous and very scared.

“If you don’t like the ring, w-we can get a new one,” he blurts out. “I just saw it at a shop near the daycare and it looked so perfect that I had to buy it. I’ve been agonizing over a way to ask you. I know this is sort of impulsive, but also not really. We already want to be together forever and I think marriage would be nice. But if you don’t want to I understand. I- I just thought... And you’re so-”

“Snow, stop,” I say softly. He lets out a long breath, staring at me with wide eyes. I smile as kindly as I can. “Just, eat the last scone, love.”

He frowns adorably. “What? This is more important than scones, Baz.”

The fact that Simon bloody Snow loves me more than sour cherry scones is absolutely incredible and deserves to be shouted to the rooftops. But this is more important.

“Simon,” I say slowly, “trust me, lift up the last scone.”

He’s still frowning, but shrugs and moves to the last scone. He lifts it up nonchalantly, and promptly drops it to the ground. Of course, sitting in the middle of the crumbs and sugar granulates is the golden ring. It’s Simon’s turn to gape, mouth comically wide. He looks from the ring, to me, back to the ring, and back to me.

“You,” he whispers, “you were...this is- This is an-”

“Engagement ring yes,” I chuckle. “It’s the reason for the nice dinner and pile of scones.”

“You were going to...”

“Propose? Yes, that was the plan. But it seems you beat me to the punch, darling.”

“Oh my god I’m sorry,” Simon groans, putting his head in his hands. “You had this lovely sweet plan and I ruined it. I’m such an idiot.”

“Snow, no, it’s absolutely fine.” I rush over to his side and kneel next to his chair. I pull his hands away from his face, clutching them tightly. “I’m not mad at all, understand? I’m very, very happy. Your proposal was the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. And the ring is goddamn beautiful.” I hold his chin and look him right in the eyes. “The answer is yes, Simon, I will certainly marry you.”

He looks at me nervously for a moment, but I sigh with relief when he smiles. We both giggle and tap our foreheads together. This is incredible. Sure, it didn’t go as planned, but what in our relationship has? And godammit I’m so happy, and so is he. That’s what’s important.

“So what was your proposal speech?” Simon whispers. “I bet you practiced it in the mirror a hundred times.”

I frown. “No I didn’t.” (Lie. I did, every day. And with Fiona.)

Snow gives me a knowing look, and I sigh. I stand up and grab the ring off the platter, still holding one of his hands.

“Simon,” I say firmly, “I’ve known you for more than half my life. And I know you are the bravest, most kind, most incredible man on the planet. You amaze me every single day. I never thought I’d have a real life, let alone a happy one. But my time with you has been just that. We may have started out rough, but we've come a long way. We’ve seen each other through our lowest and highest points. I want to spend our entire lives together, no matter how long mine may be.” He squeezes my hand, and I squeeze back. “So, I ask if you would do me a great honour, and allow me to promise such in front of everyone we know and love.” I get down on one knee, because why not? I’ve already embraced the cheesiness. “Simon Snow, will you marry me?”

He doesn’t actually answer. Rather launches himself forward to bloody tackle hug me to the ground. I ignore the fact that all the air has been knocked out my lungs. He buries his face in my neck, and I can feel something wet against it. I understand. I’m pretty sure I’m crying as well.

“Is that a yes?” I chuckle.

“Yes,” he says into my skin. Then he raises his head, sniffling and crying with a giant smile. “Yes, I will marry you, you incredible bastard.”

I cock an eyebrow. “Bastard? Is that really something to call your fiancé?”

Red spreads across his freckled cheeks. Something about the word ‘fiancé’ obviously sets him off, because next thing I know he’s kissing me so hard I see stars. He holds my jaw tightly while his thumbs press into my cheekbones. I bury my hands in his his bronze curls, tugging them on slightly. Simon moans into my mouth, and if I weren’t already on the floor I would’ve collapsed at the feeling. It’s sloppy, passionate, and absolutely wonderful. I love him. I love him more than anything. And he’s my bloody fiancé. Aleister Crowley, I’m living the most charmed life.

“You,” he whispers between our mouths, “are such a hopeless romantic, Baz Pitch.”

I pull back so he can see my frown. I don’t like my reputation insulted. “Am not. I’m a scary evil plotting vampire, remember?”

Simon traces a finger over my cheek. “Basil, how long have you been planning this?”

Oh shit. He knows me far too well. I can feel my blush spread all the way down to my neck. Crowley, I don’t want to satisfy that big smug grin on his face. I’ve already embarrassed myself quite a lot tonight, but this is the tipping point.

“Awhile,” I mumble.

“Be specific, Pitch.”

“Fuck off. You’re going to laugh at me.”

He lowers his head to kiss down my neck. I let out a shaky breath. Oh Merlin, he’s such a wonderful bastard. He knows how vulnerable I am to neck kisses.

“How long, Baz?” He whispers in a sing song.

“Ugh, fine,” I mutter. “Six months. I’ve been planning for six months. And I had help from many people to prepare.”

He giggles against my neck, and I love the vibrations he creates. Even if he’s being a smug bastard. “Of course, you plotting hopeless romantic vampire.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Simon pulls back, looking down at me with his gorgeous wide smile. He’s illuminated by the soft lamps, making it look like he has an orange halo and shimmering hair. He really is an angel. And he’s all mine.

“Make me,” whispers.

That sets something off in me. I grab his arms and easily flip him over onto his back. He yelps in surprise but that quickly turns into a giggle. I waste no time in undoing his shirt, almost ripping the buttons off. I kiss down his sternum with furious urgency. He chuckles and runs his fingers through my hair.

“Eager, hm?”

I growl, having undone shirt and moved onto his jeans with too many buttons. (I swear he wears these just to torture me.) “Shut up , Snow.”

“I told you, Basil, ma- Oh, oh yes. ”

His fingers tighten in my hair. He doesn’t exactly shut up, but he doesn’t say any actual English words either. It’s a collection of incoherent exclamations and moans. Mission accomplished.

———————————————--

Snow and I are curled up together on the couch. After spending so long on the floor, my back is killing me, but it was very much worth it. We’re only half dressed, shirts and pants still open. But we’re far too dazed to even try to look presentable. Who cares anyway? We’re alone in our flat, and we’re too busy basking in the happy afterglow of our engagement. Well, also the sex, but the engagement is the more important event obviously.

“So who was it?” Simon asks from where his head rests against my chest.

“Hm?” I reply.

He turns his head so his chin digs into me. He looks at me with a lazy smile. “You said people helped you with the proposal. Who was it?”

I sigh, running my fingers through his messy hair. “Well, Fiona helped me with speech. Though ‘helped’ may be too generous. Mostly she laughed at me and insisted I change all the adjectives. Dev sent me a hundred different possible recipes to make for dinner. Except for the scones, of course. That was Cook Pritchard. She sends her congratulations by the way. And Niall was actually very helpful when finding a ring. He has surprisingly good taste.”

“So did Niall pick it out? Should I be marrying him instead?”

I flick his nose and he snickers. “No, arsehole, of course I picked it. He just knows the good jewelry stores from when he proposed to his girlfriend.”

“Ah, I see.” His brow furrows. “Y’know, maybe we should actually put those things on.”

“Mm, good idea. Go get them.”

“Why do I have to go get them?”

“Because you’re on top right now and my back hurts too much to move.”

“Old man,” he grumbles as he gets up. I’m too relaxed to remind him that we’re the same age.

He returns quickly, then motions me to sit up, which I do reluctantly. We sit facing each other. He’s examining his gold ring with great interest.

“It’s very pretty,” he says with awe.

I smile smugly. “Look on the inside.”

Simon gives me a curious expression, but shrugs and slowly spins the ring. I can tell the exact moment he sees it. His blue eyes go incredibly wide. Niall said it was too cheesy. But I knew Snow would love it. He lets out a breathy laugh and smiles, wiping a tear from his eye.

“You giant sap,” he says.

“Would you like me to put it on?”

He nods vigorously and holds out the ring. I take it, and gently place my hand under his. It slips onto his ring finger perfectly. Simon snorts and sniffles very unromantically as I do it. But my heart's still beating out of my chest.

“Your turn,” he says, holding up his ring.

“I suppose,” I reply with a smile.

This time I offer my hand to him. The ring fits perfectly on me as well. I’m surprised he found a men’s ring that fits my bony pianist fingers. But he did, and I’m just so fucking happy.

“This is gorgeous as well,” I say.

“It’s not engraved though,” he grumbles. “I didn’t think of that, sorry.”

“Simon, it’s absolutely fine.” He still looks upset. I sigh, and tug on his arm. “Come here.” He flops forward onto me as I lay down. I work my fingers into his hair and kiss his temple, feeling him sigh against my chest.

“I don’t care if mine is engraved, because I know you love me. And because I meant what I engraved on your ring,” I whisper, and he chuckles, which makes me feel relieved. I repeat the words I had etched into the metal, the ones I’ve meant for our seven years together and even longer beforehand. “Simon Snow, I choose you.”

He sighs and holds me tighter. I can tell he’s about to fall asleep. Realistically, we should get up. There’s dishes to wash and this couch isn’t exactly comfortable to sleep on. But Snow is curled up against me, breathing softly. I can feel the cool metal of his ring pressed against my skin. Everything feels too perfect to move. So I just hold Simon, my fiancé, closer, and let myself drift off into sleep.

———————————————-

“What was so important that I had to get up at 6:30 in the morning for?” Bunce grumbles. She’s glaring at us through the screen, glasses askew and giant cup of coffee in hand.

“Well,” Simon says slowly, “take a guess.”

“Simon, I’m not a fan of guessing games. Especially this early.”

“It’s the afternoon for us,” I say. She glares even harder.

“Fine,” she grumbles, leaning back in her chair. “Let’s see. Simon, you’ve got bags under your eyes, and Baz, you keep rubbing the back of your neck. Meaning you two had a fitful sleep on that bloody couch Simon refuses to throw away.”

“I like it,” Simon mumbles with a pout.

“But, you’re also smiling excessively. Even Baz looks happy, and that takes quite a lot to achieve. So I’m guessing you tried some amazing sex thing on that couch and decided to be arseholes and wake me up far too early to tell me.”

I roll my eyes at her sarcasm, and Simon sticks his tongue out. “No, we’re not that evil, Pen," he says.

“You are close though. We slept on the couch, but we actually did it on the floor,” I interject, earning an elbow jab from Snow and a fake retching from Penelope.

“Okay fine,” Bunce groans, “you’re both gross and I’m tired. I give up. Just fucking tell me or I’m hanging up.”

Snow and I both share a look. We’ve been pointedly hiding our left hands. He wiggles his fingers in silent question. I nod.

“Well,” Simon says, “we ended up on the floor-”

“Gross.”

“Let me finish, Pen. We were on the floor because we were a tad over excited. Since Baz gave me this last night.”

He lifts up his hand, making sure the ring is in frame. Bunce’s jaw drops to the floor and her coffee mug nearly falls. She grips her laptop screen and leans forward.

“Nice, huh?” Snow says. “Baz has good taste.”

“Aleister fucking Crowley! Basilton fucking proposed?!” she shouts, loud enough to distort the sound

“M-hm. We had a nice dinner and he hid it under a pile of scones. He had a speech prepared and everything, like the romantic he is.”

“Awwww, that’s adorable.”

I glare at the screen, but Bunce keeps smiling. “Well, Snow is one to talk,” I say, “he proposed with his own adorable rambling speech before I got the chance, foiling my very well thought out plan.”

I show my own ring. Bunce just throws her head back laughing. Simon blushes and kicks my foot, but he’s still smiling ear to ear. Bunce tries to get a hold of herself, still chuckling and wiping a tear from her eye.

“Crowley,” she sighs, “of course that’s what happened. You’re both giant disasters.”

“Shut up,” Snow replies with a smile. “Why are you even surprised? You knew I was planning to.”

I look at him curiously. “She knew you were going to propose?”

“Of course I did!” Penelope shouts. “He called me the second after he bought the ring. I told him he was an impulsive idiot and to wait until the right moment. Which I assumed would be at least a week later, not two days.”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “Well, it was the right moment, but that was because I made it.”

“And Simon foiled your plot.”

“As usual,” Simon says. We look at each other, and I see nothing but utter joy.

“Okay,” Bunce says, “you two need time to be adorable and engaged, so I’ll leave you to it. But let me know when you pick a date because I will be coming back to England at least two months before to help with everything. You’re going to need it.”

“Oh we will?” I ask with one eyebrow raised.

“Considering how the proposal went? Yes. Bye you idiots, love you!”

She hangs up before I can protest. Simon snorts with laughter. I huff and cross my arms. “She always has to have the last word, doesn’t she?”

“Of course she does, she’s Penny. Now,” he throws his legs over me and sits on my lap without ceremony, “we’ve got the whole weekend free. What should we do, my dear fiancé?”

“Well,” I sigh, running my hands up his sides, “you insisted Bunce know first, so we still have to call my parents, Aunt Fiona, Dev and Niall, and Wellbelove.”

“Okay, sounds good. And afterwards?”

“Hm, we could go for a walk, see a movie, have a nice dinner out.”

“The walk sounds nice. But,” he leans closer, “how about instead of a movie and dinner out, we just order in and watch something on TV? I want to spend time with you. Just the two of us.”

I smile, pulling him closer by the small of his back. “I think I’d like that. Though we’re not sleeping on the couch again. Bunce is right, it’s terrible. My neck is going to have a kink for days.”

“Fine, fine, you big vampire baby, we’ll make sure to get to bed.” He brings his mouth next to my ear. “And then we won’t leave it until Monday.”

A shiver runs down my spine. Merlin and Morgana, seven years together and he still drives me absolutely crazy. “I think I can find that agreeable," I whisper. "My dear fiancé.”

He pulls back to show his smirk. I lean up and kiss it off his face. It’s a slower, calmer kiss, just a lazy slide of lips. It’s so familiar, and it feels like home. Snow presses his left hand right over my heart, and I put my own left over it. Our rings touch with the tiniest clink.

There’s no place in the world I’d rather be right now.

———————————————

AN: I struggled with what counts as a confession, so I did my best. Baz admitting to the six months of planning (lol what a dork) is supposed to be the confession if that wasn't clear. I think that satisfies the prompt. And after the amazing trial that was "Time on Our Side", I needed to write something fluffy and simple, so I decided on a stupidly adorable proposal. Now I've written a proposal and a morning after the wedding fic. All that's left is an actual wedding fic. Hmmmmm I'll have to think about that :)

PS: This is Simon’s ring and this is Baz’s

#carry on #snowbaz #simon snow #baz pitch #penelope bunce #fiona pitch #fluff #proposal #mysnowbazfic

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