#(by made more sense I mean... looked nicer aesthetically to me!)

[simmetrycal]

good morning ༉‧₊

synopsis:

ash being a man in an unusual but valid sense of the word.

word count: 3k

a/n: enjoy. chapter three of the mystery girl series coming soon, bear with me.

˚ · .

you might expect someone who’s as popular as ash to have a verbosely full phone with tons of messages always flooding through and people constantly hitting up his line. but as truth would have it, ash’s phone was as barren as a wasteland.

granted, his storage was still full on a daily basis. he takes hundreds of photos of rocky, especially when the two go on morning runs or hikes. he’s proud of the way they look; aesthetically outdoorsy and he’s always matching his outfit with a new dog leash or harness. he’s quick to get home and lay on his bed before changing into his work clothes, scrolling and picking out his favorite picture and posting it to his instagram story.

other images in his camera roll include scroll after scroll of memes and dumb tweets, accompanied by 0.5 forehead pictures of his caught-off-gaurd unsuspecting assistant.

ash rolled over on his bed at the country house utterly groggy, struggling to wake up. he slid up his pink nighttime eye mask and rubbed his tired face. rocky was peacefully sleeping on the lower half by his legs, curled up into a big ball.

ash felt around the sea of white duvet covers, looking for his phone to take a picture of rocky. why does everything disappear in this bed? he thinks, realizing he could’ve made a silly joke if he had a late night friend with him. perhaps he’d add “like clothing” with an eyebrow wiggle or maybe a wink.

after several long moments of him searching around, getting more and more frustrated by the second, he found his phone on the floor, face down on the rug. ash grabs it and immediately swipes from right to left to open his camera. but before he could do that, he noticed a single email.

˚ · .

“really? that’s it? how rude.” ash’s mom, grace, says as she sips her london fog, eyes peering to reread the email ash got this morning.

grace loves weekends almost as much as she loves her son. what’s more perfect is that the two often join each other at their usual coffee shop almost every saturday morning. ash had just shown her his unfortunately devastating email from a magazine he attempted to submit a poem to.

Dear Asher,

Thank you so much for submitting your work for consideration. We have decided against publishing your submission, but we wish you the best of luck placing it elsewhere.

Regards.

it stung, he couldn’t lie. he had to force himself to get out of bed and put some clothes on after reading it for the first time, act like he wasn’t upset about getting put down from his new hobby. act like he could stop thinking of it as he drove himself and rock back to their place in the city.

he was supposed to stay out here at the country house for the whole weekend but the septic tank is getting fixed. he’d rather peacefully shit in his apartment than out there.

anyhow, ash has recently taken up poetry. specifically lifestyle poetry.

the problem is, he sucks. he knows it, everyone else knows it, his mom knows it, and apparently so does Ranger Magazine.

“i mean, they could have at least worded it nicer,” he says curtly to his mom as his drink gets brought over. he ordered a caramel vanilla frappuccino like the total sugar boy he is.

he takes a sip and settles a bit better in his chair. happy to have something in his system other than two cherry tomatoes and a cheese stick.

“mm, i agree.” grace says, but thinks for a moment. “though, maybe this is a good thing.”

“are you about to tell me rejection is a blessing?”

grace smiled and seemed to see past her sons annoyance about the situation. “this is a perfect opportunity for you to grow and learn, ash. don’t quit now, keep writing, and you’ll surely improve.”

her words are kind and they touch ash’s heart- but he knows following her advice will be a bit harder than she realizes. ash is quick to give up a hobby he isn’t immediately good at, especially when he’s already naturally talented in many other aspects of life.

though, ash wouldn’t even be picking up a new hobby in the first place if he wasn’t heartbroken and finding new ways to distract himself.

grace doesn’t know this, though. and ash plans to keep it that way. she’s seen him go through quite a few situations where he simply leaves his heart out on a butcher block thinking it’ll be best taken care of there. of course, it’s never the case for him and he’s gotten quite good at picking himself back up. she doesn’t need to know he still has the habit of wearing his heart on his sleeve.

“so much for being celibate”, chantelle’s voice pings around in his mind.

“no worries mom, i’ll keep at it.” ash lies as he starts getting up, pushing in his chair. he knew he had to lie otherwise they’d be there forever, talking about blessings and god and never giving up.

ash wasn’t giving up in the way that others would think. he’s simply focusing his energy elsewhere..

but where is elsewhere? what’s he going to do with the rest of his saturday?

after loving goodbyes with his mom, ash makes his way his audi, folding into it and immediately dialing up his closest buddies to hang out.

his coworker raymond and his seventeen year old half sister eva being his only options at the moment seemed pathetic. he knew for sure raymond would say no to a hang out, but hope still coursed through him when ray accepted the facetime.

ash barely even looked at the screen as he started talking, too focused on pulling out of the annoyingly packed parking lot. this place screams hit and run.

“i’m free all day is what im say-“ ash stops when he looks down at the phone for the first time. raymond is half asleep listening to him and he’s got a certain pink haired goddess leaning on his shoulder. oh.

“is this a bad time..?”

“yeah.”

“nahh,” vanessa says, trying to play innocent but by the way raymond looks, he knows they’re up to no good.

“you know, just because i’m your boss doesn’t mean you’re obligated to pick up.” ash backtracks, nervous about vanessa seeing how lonely ash truly is. he wants outsiders to not see through his facade.

“you literally once told me the exact opposite of that.”

ash rolled his eyes and chuckled. “see ya,” he says before pressing the red button to end it. he was happy at the very least to get to say hi to raymond, even if he was busy for the day.

next, he finds eva’s contact and calls her twice. no pick up. she sleeps until noon on the weekends like a typical teenager. perhaps ash’ll bring her some ice cream later.

“hmm..” he sits in his car at a red light, trying to compartmentalize his messy thoughts. he can’t stop thinking about the premature death of the “situation” he was recently in. but he knew it was normal to be sad, and to want to hang onto it. it was part of the process— he had to let himself linger on the emotions for a few days, accepting thoughts as they come and letting them go.

too many thoughts, though, could lead to him getting overly stressed. so he hits a play button on his steering wheel to continue whatever music was on his phone.

good morning by kanye begins and his body vibrates with the accidental boom of his subwoofers he left turned way up from last night. he quiets them as he cruises, appreciating the sunshine coming up over the horizon.

ash absolutely loves the sun, the heat, the light. it’d been raining for eight days and now with the sun in his presence again, he felt more at peace. happier than his usual amount of happiness.

his big, cute sunglasses hid the way his eyes crinkled with a smile. maybe he would keep up the poetry. maybe he could write about the sun, or his mom, or his feelings. feelings he allowed himself to not fear. or a blend of all three.

˚ · .

later, ash finds himself at a bookstore, perusing the many shelves and tables filled with romance novels with dumb covers.

ash knows he shouldn’t but he does judge actual books by their covers. but hey! it wasn’t his fault that most of them nowadays look like an ugly collage of bright clip art.

and what business did those books have by putting the absolute smuttiest scenes not even halfway through? he rolled his eyes, tired of this trend. but why was he even tired? he thought, it’s not like he’s an avid reader anyway.

maybe he could become one. maybe one of these books will come home with the lucky asher solace and who knows? maybe he might even finish it.

first, he had to pick one out- the hardest part some may say. ash didn’t allow himself to open any of them, he simply let himself judge the cover art of all of them and he chose the least corny one. a photo finish, by elsie silver.

least corny cover didn’t mean least corny story, he found out soon enough. he chose a place by the too hot fireplace to read some to see if he liked it.

a few minutes turned into a fly-by hour all of a sudden and he didn’t even realize until the heat of the fire was practically melting him- urging him to get up and buy the book. he liked it more than he thought he would, loving how stupidly corny it was whilst at the same time, hot and sexy.

ash was so distracted that he ended up accidentally leaving without paying. realizing halfway through his walk in the parking lot before running back to go do that.

he continued his read in his car but it wasn’t the same, his mind couldn’t get quiet again like how it was in the bookstore by the fireplace. the vibe was off and for some reason, all he could think about was this manly urge to build or put something together.

he needed a new shelf anyway for his bearbricks, so he placed his new wonderful book on his passenger seat and opened up the lowes website on his phone.

is an eight dollar shelf suspicious..? it looked great and seemed to be a very sturdy, supportive shelf. but, cmon, only eight?

“maybe that’s actually a great deal. i’m trippin,” he grins as he orders it online, happily paying with his apple id— unaware of the dumbness of this plan.

in mere minutes he found himself standing in the light section at lowe’s waiting for his order to be ready for pickup with a bag of half eaten gummy bears in his hand. he puts one in his mouth after staring at a light bulb for too long, blinking away rapidly and deciding maybe this isn’t the best use of his time.

he wanders around, touching all the carpet samples and finding the softest one, acting like he’s a house renovator.

the display kitchenettes always catch his eye and he excitedly walks up into them, like he always does with room displays. (don’t let this man get lost in an ikea.)

he stuffs his pockets with paint color samples, ugly shades of bright pink and neon green, just because he likes looking at them. right as he collected his next handful, his phone buzzed, alerting him that his order was ready.

ash skipped to the pickup counter, past all the beer belly, blue collar, ford f150 dads looking at him funny.

what he didnt expect was the shelf to be so thin.. like, $8 thin. and there were no brackets to attach them to a wall, so he did another lap around the store to find some.

back at his apartment he changed his outfit. getting out of his usual white button up into a fitted t shirt, some blue carhartt overalls, and a yellow bandana, ready to build his new shelf! he looked like a minion, which made him happy. ash loves minions.

he knocked around the wall aimlessly with the knuckle of his index finger, looking for a “stud”. did he know what a stud was? no. did he know how to find one? also no. he just saw one of his handymen do it in the past.

ash liked to watch them in a way that may have made him seem like he wanted to get some, but he was only curious about what they were doing. he loves when people are doing something— especially for a living and doing something he doesn’t quite understand. so he always observed closely.

maybe not too close it seemed because now as he’s trying to do it himself, he has no clue where to actually start.

“fuck it,” he says as he drills in a screw haphazardly into the wall with no rhyme or reason. the screw gun wiggles out of his hand from the force and whirs and spins around on the screw at the speed of light. ash couldn’t help but to laugh even when it flew off and went airborne, landing on his warhol bearbrick. he only quit laughing when it made it topple over and the head came off with a big thump and crack. it slid across the hardwood a few feet away.

he stood there for probably a whole minute just staring at what a complete mess he’s made of his apartment living room. there are screws and tools all over his table, the shelf is about to be lopsided on the wall, his favorite bearbrick is broken, and he’s wearing a ridiculous outfit.

he doesn’t realize he’s crying until he feels a hot tear rolls down his cheek. how come he was just laughing, but now he’s sad again?

ash rips off his bandana and storms into his room, falling on his bed. he just wants the day to be over already.

he lets the tears flow freely, and his brain cruelly reminds him of all the other things he could be crying about.

he sobs harder as he unwillingly remembers all his rejections this week. the people who’ve recently walked out of his life, how he will always let them because there’s no point in begging, how the magazine didn’t like his poem, shitty as it may have been. how he couldn’t hang out with raymond and the looming known fact that he thinks they’re better friends than they really are.

ash lays there. letting his thoughts come, and excusing them to leave. his chest, once heaving with the sobs, has now settled as he calms down. the tears made his ears wet and some bits of his hair. it stuck onto his face and he rubbed his eyes, sipping in a tense but needed deep breath.

rationale began to come back with each breath he took. he couldn’t get so caught up in what isn’t working out for him. rather, he should focus on how incredible he actually is. even if it’s hard to see sometimes.

˚ · .

no matter what, always, without fail, an activity that makes ash feel better is yoga. especially guided yoga with a group.

he typically does it alone at home or at the gym, following along with his self appointed instructor charlie follows on youtube. letting her guide the 30 to 60 minute session through his headphones. he finds her voice more calming than any other instructor, but here, in the park where he currently is, he finds that this one is alright too.

she must be in her thirties, ash thinks. her face is covered in freckles and the rest of her seems to be the same. though he can’t tell very well with her being so far away.

he wishes she wore a microphone or something because each of her instructions felt like they were getting to his ears seconds after everyone moved. he was the only man there. in fact, he was the only one with a pink mat as well.

it wasn’t entirely flat on the ground as they were outdoors in a lovely park surrounded by evergreens. a river was nearby and some speedboats would go by obnoxiously, taking him out of his zen at times.

the grass was such a vibrant dark shade of green and it made him happier than he realized. ash appreciates good grass.

“now bring your belly down slowly, lowering into chaturanga, then coming up for cobra.” the instructor says, walking around gingerly on quiet feet to get around to every person in the park participating with her. she comes up by ash and softly tells him good job.

his heart melts. he feels giddy and proud of himself, confident that she sees how good at yoga ash has made himself.

when he first started, it was awful. he couldn’t turn his brain off, his hands always sweat, and he wobbled a lot. fell a lot. laid there a lot.

nowadays he doesn’t feel sweaty. he feels at peace. he found balance and stability with his body and he’s able to do more than he ever thought he could, especially as a 6’2 man.

the other ladies in the park look him, they watch him in warrior one or low lunge, noticing his soft skin and his muscles. his little pigtails he does with his hair. his powder pink lululemon mat and matching waterbottle.

he gets the same reaction from the ladies in his pilates class. but they’ve all since become his friend.

the yoga instructor speaks again as she directs them into savasana. “i’d like you now to think of your intentions for how you’d like to feel in this moment. or feel all throughout this evening.” her voice is calm, lulling ash into a meditative state. the sun has disappeared behind the trees, giving the park a much needed, relaxing coolness.

he thinks of his intention.

he has the intention of feeling.. good. the intention of leaving things just the way they are. not bothering to force things that don’t fit. not worrying about rejections. not caring about anything, at least, in this moment.

he also had the intention to write one last poem.

ash slept good that night, even though the state of his apartment’s living room could be considered a hazard.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

this is entirely based off my own weekend. bye, thank you for reading. i’ll be back soon w chap 3.

[smolbeandrabbles]

Linzi’s 2021 Thank You Post

To be honest due to the lack of real activity on this blog - at least writing wise - I don’t really have much to go on for this year!

It’s been a good one by all accounts, learning to write for myself again and taking a break to write something that made me truly happy 😊

Although we’re entering a new era with this blog next year - where you’re likely just to see this used as my main, and any writing I decide to publish either on my AO3 or my side blog @soultek, I did want to thank absolutely everyone who this year has discovered this blog, read a fic, liked a fic, reblogged a fic or commented on a fic! Thank you so much for your readership and taking your time to do such things! It truly means the world to me that everything I created over the past 3 years is still finding new audiences that enjoy my work! 🥰

Special thank you to both Starset and Smash Into Pieces for soundtracking my year. Took me waaay too long to get there with you both, but my gosh... I’m glad I did. Because you soundtracked all my writing too! And happen to be perfect to write to!) 🙌

My big thank yous for this year go to you, @sufferthesea @sagitariusrising @mandy23b​  - thank you for keeping me sane, helping me to discover new things, encouraging me every step of the way, fangirling with me over a whole range of things, letting me ramble to you about whatever new interest was grabbing me at the time and helping me to grow. Bee, Krick, Amanda... you are all real ones. And I love each and every one of you so much 🤗💙💜 Thank you for an amazing 2021! Here’s to 2022!

Signing off as Olderguysandcutiepies, one last time before we change it up tomorrow! Stay tuned!

Love, Linzi x ❤ P.S. Obviously this would not be complete without the boys that captured my attention over the past year. That make me so happy to have found (often with help! 😁), and happy they’ve been a big part of my 2021... in some form or other-! So, thanks, boys... Let’s do this again next year!

[zayeaw]

hi pepper!! congrats on 123 followers🎉

wanted to see if i could jump in here early enough to snag a slot for your milestone event and get a ship with a male character from aot :) i apologize for the length of this but if it’s vivid you want it’s vivid you get i’m so sorry lmao feel free to skip this if it’s too long

physically speaking: i’m super short for my age (155cm at 22) and rather skinny, sort of an athletic/somewhat muscular build, with disproportionately large breasts. blonde hair, long, a bit layered. round face, round blue eyes, very high-set cheekbones and plump cheeks that sort of make me look a bit chipmunk-ish when i smile.

in terms of style/aesthetic, i’m definitely more of a dressed-down person, but i wouldn’t really assign myself to a “core,” if that makes sense, lol. i like sweats and hoodies, wearing my hair down, not a huge fan of fancy accessories or thick makeup. if i’m out in public, i’m usually in skinny jeans with a bit of a nicer sweatshirt (but it is always a sweatshirt, as i get cold really easily). i’m more of a basic sneaker person when it comes to shoes but a lot of the times you’ll just see me scurrying around in fuzzy slippers (or full fluffy pajama sets) when i’m roaming around the house. it’s cozycore. i made it up just now but that’s what it is.

as far as interests go, my music taste basically consists of hard rock, lofi, and soft ballads with pretty much no in-between. one second you’ll see me head-banging to a playlist and five minutes later i’ll be face down sobbing in my feels. i’m also very artistic, really into singing, writing, and general music production. i also shamelessly play video games on my switch every moment i’m not at work—been really into hollow knight lately.

and for tropes? relationships? i live for tooth-rotting fluff by day and kinky nasty time by night. i’m a sucker for those slow burn stories, people who fall for each other without really realizing it, people who push the boundaries of friends 24/7 because they’re just so comfortable with each other on a physical and emotional level. like friends to lovers but instead of friends becoming lovers they’ve just been lovers the whole time and are only now discovering what love really means. i’m here for the soft doms and service tops, the praises, the nights where every touch is filled with passion and just pure adoration. where the line between physical and emotional intimacy is blurred to the point that it’s indistinguishable.

three cheers if you made it to the end without taking a bathroom break😭 i don’t want to just end it here so in conclusion, congrats again on such a huge milestone in only a few weeks!! i adore your work and i really hope you get the chance to share that with even more people in the coming months. cheers💕

hello nonnie! thank youu for participating in my milestone event! Ahh you must be so pretty irl ! Thank you being patient with me and for supporting me<3

Dw ab the lenght i lovee reading long asks hehe, you gave me some entertainment during my integetrarion classes, oh and the way you described your favorite trope is so good! I loved it, you must be one heck of a writer yourself!

PEPPER'S MILESTONE EVENT🪄

I ship you withh..

JEAN KIRSCTEIN!

Jean absolutely adores the fact that you're half his size, his heart beats out of his chest when he sees you struggling trying to get something out of the top shelf of your kitchen cabinet. He dosen't help you just yet though, he makes sure you turn around and give him puppy eyes before he lifts you up to get what you wanted.

He loves your long hair, whenever he's stressed he just has to cuddle in bed with you,running his fingers in your hair and feel your soft breath on him,there is no better heaven for him than you.

He wants your chest as a pillow at night. Its not a want its a need, whenever you both have a fight ,reason of fight: he ate the left over food you had been thinking of eating the entire dwy, you send him to the couch to sleep and about at 3 a.m when he knows your asleep he comes and cuddles with you. Not like u dont love it🥴

you just wear his clothes lol. Like his closet his yours. Wanna go for grocery? Just grab his sweatshirt and pants. He acts annoyed but loves it when he sees you in his clothing. It makes him feel like you are actually his. however he enjoys watching you prancing around like a bunny in your short shorts and fluffy slippers, makes him wanna pin you down and fuck you into oblivion then and there. Smirk at him while you're wearing that? Yeah then he is going to do it.

Also he lovess going shoe shopping with you, you both even have matching pairs,its so adorable really.

You're play video games?hell yeah. What more could he ask for in a girlfriend. He always knew you played stuff but the first time he saw you getting mad when your teammate fucked up, you were ready to throw hands,spitting out all the cuss words you knew and he went "😍"

You both go for daily night drives, blasting the same music everyday, singing along with it, and thr drives usually more or less end with a hot makeout session in the backseat.

You both were always more than lovers,always more than friends,maybe that is what a soulmate is. You make him feel complete, you are the reason he wants to wake up everyday,you are the reason he wants to work hard so that you both can live a comfortable life.

You are the one who made him wanna have a family. You were always the reason for him, even when you were kids, you teasing him is what he lives for. You breaking eye contact and cheeks blushing when he leans in to kiss you is the reason he contempt with everything in life.

Holding your hand when you both walk in the cold,pushing you amongst his side so that you remain warm, watching you drool in your sleep,seeing you so concentrated when you arr working, yeah, he had nothing in life to complain about.

[captnjacksparrow]

i dont like sasusaku and not even slightest naruhina, but its weird that you hate sakura as a character and not the creator himself. as much as i hate sakura, i used to love her development but all that went to trash right around the ending. honestly they should've just made narusasu a canon because that made more sense and even sakuino made more sense that some of the hetero pairings 🚮

Apart from the first line of your ask, I somehow disagree with everything, Anon.

Let me tell you why.

First off,

SNS becoming canon by holding hands or kissing or walking towards Sunset.... was never going to happen. So expecting that is kind of extremely childish. I was only unhappy because they wanted to go for this Next Gen shit. That made Kishi to marry off every other characters without any development until Chapter 699.

Second off,

I am immensely happy with what I got. That is NaruSasu became Soulmates. One can't exist without the Other, One complement the Other. Even though they have married those girls and have children, I don't think they will die for their families. And they still love each other more than their own families. Point me one popular Shounen with this kind of Development between 2 male Characters???!!! So, Kishimoto made something extra-ordinary, unusual and I must appreciate him for this from the bottom of my heart. From the way he has written their bond, he really wanted to end with an Open Ending... Like no pairs and trash.

Third off,

What even SakuIno means???? I mean, Sakura was totally going horny over Sasuke's dick and kiss. She was always touching his Body whenever she gets the chance. How can she be paired with a girl??? Same case with Ino. I am not Anti-SakuIno or anything. Probably you ship them for their aesthetics. But both the girls are filtered Heterosexual. They don't have any Lesbian Subtexts like SNS has. Sorry, that is just a crack ship just like SasuHina. They both are friends. That's all.

Fourth off,

Since when did Sakura's character had better development, Anon?? You mean that Sasori fight??? You are calling it as a development, and I am still calling it as a Selfish Obsession on her Sasuke-Kun. Sakura took that fight very seriously only after Sasori mentioned the name of Orochimaru. Sakura thought, if she manage to defeat Sasori, she could get information about Orochimaru which inturn will make it easier for her to retrieve Sasuke. She never fought for Gaara or Naruto, which is what she should've done in the first place. Tell me, how is this called as Development??? Just because she repeatedly punch stuffs???

In part 1, she was a total annoying Asshole and in the end she was even more of an Asshole.

It's not like the Author developed her as some Badass Girl and then dumped her for no reason. She was always written to be hated. At no point, I felt the Author made any conscious effort to make her likeable.

Fifth off,

You are asking me to blame the creator.... And why should I??? If Kishimoto can write amazing women characters like Tsunade, Konan, Kushina.... Why can't he do that for Sakura as well???

Let's take Tsunade

Her body was splitted into Two Halves. It's really gory to look. I think even Danzo had a pretty nice death... I think she is the only character in Narutoverse to have her Torso separated from her Lower Body....

Even then

She still wants to save other people with whom she had no proper connection with!! She was still thinking about saving other Kages rather than saving herself.

Tell me atleast one moment when Sakura thought about putting her life on the line to save other people??? Or tell me at what point point of the story, Sakura remotely displayed her selflessness???

You can't.

If Kishimoto can write someone like Tsunade, why can't he make Sakura, a strong person??

Let me tell you... If I am an Author and if I want to make a character likeable, the very first thing I would do is, to make that character be nicer to the Titular Character. This is an inherent and unwritten rule. That's exactly why Hinata was liked by many people.... It's funny, people really liked her a lot in Part 1 (not realizing her inherent shittiness)... But he decided to potray her in a wrong way starting from Part 2. If only Sakura was nicer towards Naruto, I repeat nicer... not to love him... people would have liked Sakura more. But all she did was behaving extremely horny towards Sasuke but showing Drainage-level care towards Naruto. And do you really think Kishimoto don't know this logic?? At no point, I've seen her being completely genuine towards Naruto. Even when she wanted to feed him Ramen, she only did it because of Naruto's devotion towards Sasuke.

Throughout part 1, she was an asshole... Towards the end of part 1, she was nice because she needs Sasuke's dick.... And in the beginning of Part 2, She totally was using him to retrieve Sasuke... She cared him here and there.. In the middle of Part 2, she shamelessly fake confessed him.... In the end of Part 2, she was begging Sasuke to like her... She didn't care about Naruto or Tsunade, who were about to be killed by Sasuke...

Where is this development you speak of, Anon???

I am Sorry, I still feel like you are a big Sakura fan and want to make an excuse by pushing the blame on the Creator. Because Hinata fans also always do this same thing... Like pushing the blame on Kishimoto for writing her that way. They never once realise that the character they like was piss poor because the author wanted it that way.

By that logic, I must criticize him for making Sasuke take certain decision which I am not OK with, too... Right???

If your favourite character don't behave in certain way like you expected, then there's only one thing to do. Blame the Author.

Sorry, I won't be doing it for any other characters in Naruto series. I accept every characters with the way the author has written.

Sakura is a pathetic character and she was meant to be. It was intentional and deliberate from Kishimoto's side. He wants this character to be hated and that's why he wrote her that way... And I know The reason for why he did it... Which is not the point of this post.

Just ask yourself, this question Anon...

If a secondary character like Ino who was very similar to Sakura, got a good development towards the end... There are so many good woman characters inside the Narutoverse. But still, in the end, why Sakura and Hinata alone was shown to have a negative and ugly development??? What makes Sakura and Hinata different from the other women??? Why particularly these two women???

Just give this question a deep thought and you will find the Answer.

People taking the wrong cue about a Character and blaming the author for the Character's shittiness... I am Sorry, I don't support this logic.

I would really appreciate those Sakura fans who completely accept her shittiness, mistakes, flaws and still able to love her... Without blaming the author. Because I've seen such fans but they are very rare to come across.

[phati-sari]

Hi PS! absolutely love your blog, it’s been so great to read your episode recaps and understand the characters on a deeper level - hope we get to read more of them at some point in the future!

This is not really related to the plot, but I’d love your opinion on Khushi’s best outfits/looks, maybe like a top 5 or 10 if you can? I find the fashion on the show very interesting because there are lots of hits and misses, and would love your take!

Hello hello @diaagonalley :)

Thank you very much for the compliment, I’m flattered you like the blog so much!

Some posts relating to outfits:

Top 5 Khushi outfits / Favourite and least fave Khushi outfits

Top Arnav outfits / Top Anjali outfits

Bottom 5 outfits

Arnav’s shirts / Arnav’s casual outfits

And my thoughts on Khushi’s dressing sense, taken from a previous ask:

I think it’s true to her character :) I think it’s hilarious that a fashion mogul married someone who enjoys bright, clashing colours and pompoms. Her sense of aesthetics is so different from his :)

I think the argument can be made that, prior to her marriage, she tended to buy the cheapest things so as to not burden her family. Payal’s clothes, though obviously more sedate, also tend to be of higher quality (nice cottons, thread work). I can see Khushi wanting to buy cheaper stuff, and buying every colour combination because she likes the colours, and because it sort of means Payal gets nice clothes?

After marriage, she still likes bright colours and pompoms but the fabrics and prints are much nicer. Still quirky, and definitely not everyone’s style, but she’s translated her sense of fashion into something that makes sense for who she is now. She still seems to buy in bulk, which I find awesome.

And of course, after marriage she has a few amazing one-off pieces and no one will ever be able to convince me that they are anything other than gifts from her Pati Dev.

[hela-avenger]

To the Stars Who Listen- 9a

Author: hela-avenger

Word Count: 2177

Summary: When Loki desires to never fall in love, he casts a spell to prevent such a thing from happening. Except, well, in the matters of love and magic, you never know the result it may have in the end. Loki x Reader

A/N: Ok so I started to write this and then had to go back to edit it and then I added more and then it was all just angst and it was just getting so long and I couldn’t fix it. ANYWHO, the Halloween special will now be two parts. I’m really hoping it won’t be three but we shall have to wait and see. 

HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYONE! Please be safe out there! 

Tags are open! (Send me an ask/message/response.)

TTSWL Masterlist

Loki refrained from groaning as he stepped into the jet that would take them back to the Tower. Sam and Bucky were fighting over the pilot seat while Wanda was chattering loudly about the costume she had managed to find for herself and Vision. Loki catches your eye and he can tell you wish to speak to him. He doesn’t allow you the chance as he storms out of the seating area in preference of the solitude found in the back. 

The quinjet finally sets out of the compound and Loki manages to survive the short ride without being pulled into whatever conversation you wish to have with him. You most likely wanted to know the truth behind what you had revealed previously. An answer he would refuse to give you. 

Loki is almost cornered by you in the arrival at the tower but by sheer luck, you are called away by the AI allowing Loki to peacefully make his way down to his residential floor. The peace he had in mind at the return of his familiar abode is disrupted at the sight of Thor waiting for him there. 

Loki’s annoyance grows at the sight of his brother regaled in his Asgardian armor swinging Mjolnir with ease. 

“Welcome back, brother.” 

Loki just grunts in response as he tries to maneuver around the big oaf. 

“I went ahead and prepared your armor for the party tonight,” Thor continues with a smile. “It should be a merry night full of drinking and dancing. We should thoroughly enjoy it.” 

“I’m not going to that party.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because I refuse to partake in Midgardian celebrations.” 

“I would think you would enjoy this one, Loki. It’s all about mischief and magic.” 

Loki rubs his eyes tiredly. 

“I am quite tired, brother. I am in no mood for festivities.”

“You never are,” Thor states, forcing Loki to stop right outside his bedroom door. “You always hide out here and avoid having any fun. You’ve been here for months, Loki, and you have failed to participate in any way or form to enjoy humanity.”

“I hate this place,” Loki responds. “Why would I try to find some silver lining?” 

“If that is the case then perhaps I should report to father that you have made no progress and have you sent back home.”

That definitely deepens the foul mood Loki was already in.  

“If I go to this party will you refrain from reporting to father?” 

Thor thinks for a few seconds before relenting.

“Yes, I would.” 

“Great, good,” Loki mutters as he slips into the darkness of his room. “I’m not wearing my armor though.” 

“Then what will you wear?” 

Loki doesn’t respond promptly slamming the door closed to Thor’s face. 

The lab was as pristine and proper as the day before you had come in and destroyed it. The wall had been repaired and the equipment that had been easily thrown before was now bolted to the ground. You let out a sigh as you try to forget that dark moment of your life when you had turned against your friends for no reason. 

You still couldn’t remember what happened but it still shook you to the very core. The truth was something everyone valued and yet you had overlooked the darkness it could truly hold. Lying didn’t seem so bad now and you miss having the simple ability. 

Shaking yourself from that thought, you scanned the rest of the room looking for the man of the hour. 

The moment the jet landed at the tower you were promptly told by FRIDAY that Tony requested your presence in the lab. 

You tried to make a quick stop towards the Asgardian floor but the AI had overlooked your floor request in preference of following its creator’s demand. 

The lab remained silent after you came in. FRIDAY had announced your presence but Tony was nowhere to be seen. You felt yourself being watched but could find no one. You were starting to grow paranoid which didn’t help when a loud bang resonated nearby.

Your head snaps towards the source of the crash and you relax when you realize it’s just Dum-E hitting against the nearby desk.

“Oh Dum-E, I thought I was…”

“BOO!” 

You jump at the sudden shout behind you. Out of pure instinct, you throw your hands in front of you causing your gauntlets to shoot out two straight lines of energy. The beams scorch two black spots on the recently repaired wall.

“Well that’s new.” 

You turn around and glare at Tony. 

“What the hell, Tony!” you shout at him. “I could have killed you.” 

Tony chuckles in response and is quick to apologize. 

“Sorry, kid,” he answers. “Didn’t realize you were Iron Man 2.0.” 

You roll your eyes at him and laugh sarcastically at him. 

“Ha, ha, ha, very funny,” you joke. “These things are the only reason I have some semblance of control.” 

“Let me see them.” 

You raise your hands and show him the golden gauntlets. 

“Interesting design,” he mutters as he grabs a hold of them, turning them around back and forth. “I’m assuming the stones are important by their placement. I wonder what they’re made of. Carbon-based, maybe? Rare space jewel? I would have to run some tests…”

“Yeah, not possible,” you comment. “I can’t take these off. Things could go very wrong.” 

Tony scowls as he lets your hands go. 

“Can’t risk it for a few minutes?” Tony asks. “I’m sure I could improve them for a nicer aesthetic and easier mobility.” 

“Tony…”

“Come on,” he nudges. “You don’t see me wearing my blasters because they’re comfortable. It’ll only be a few minutes. Five tops.” 

You hesitate and Tony pesters on.  

“Let me do this for you. It’s the least I can do if you have to wear those atrocities for the rest of your life.” 

You chew on the inside of your cheek before relenting. 

“Just be careful with the stones and be quick, please,” you plead at him. “I don’t wish to have a repeat of my last mishaps.” 

Tony snorts as he helps you slide the gauntlets off your hands. 

“Heard about that,” he snickers. “A little birdie told me and by birdie, I obviously mean Sam.” 

You laugh and shake your head at him watching as he steps towards his desk and pulls out an array of files into the screen. He flips through them quickly before stopping at one. 

Pepper Gift Ideas. 

“Um, Tony?” 

He ignores you as he opens the file up and scatters out the multiple designs he’s sketched out. You’re shocked at the multiple documents in the file but don’t have the chance to inspect them closely as Tony finds the one he was looking for. 

“Here it is,” he states as he picks the design and throws it onto the screen next to his equipment. “What do you think, kid?” 

“Oh, wow,” you whisper as you look at the design on display. “That’s beautiful.” 

“Was tinkering for a while about making Pepper her own jewelry,” Tony responds beside you. “But she never wears what I get her.” 

“I’m sure she would wear this,” you tell him. “Are you sure you want to use this design on me?” 

Tony is quick to nod. 

“You’ve been dealt a shitty hand with this power,” Tony answers honestly. “I just want to make things better for you in any way I can.” 

“Thanks, Tony,” you tell him, heartfelt at his generosity. “Really, thank you.” 

Tony clears his throat from the rising emotion and looks away. He picks up your gauntlet and begins to disassemble them. 

“Now go away,” he mutters. “Let me work in peace.” 

“You told me it would only be five minutes.” 

“Well I lied. I’m surprised you didn’t notice.” 

You roll your eyes at him and Tony simply smirks. 

“I’ll have them done soon, I promise, so why don’t you go ahead and find your partner in crime, Natasha. She’s got your costume in her room.” 

You hesitate but you’ve already done your daily exercises to tire your powers out. Nothing could go wrong. Or at least that’s what you hoped for. 

You wince at the sharp tug of your hair. You glare at Natasha through the mirror but she simply smirks in response. You had no choice when it came to getting ready for this impromptu Halloween party. Natasha dragged you into her room the moment you showed up at her door. 

You didn’t mind her help for the party. In fact, you were glad to have it as the redhead went above and beyond to have everything ready for you. From the costume to the hair and makeup, Natasha had arranged it all. All you had to do was sit there and allow her to make her vision into a reality. 

Though you would use this time to catch up with your close friend, your mind was far away at the moment. 

Ever since your last lesson, Loki had avoided you like the plague. Any attempt of trying to apologize to him was somehow thwarted by Loki himself or some outside force. It didn’t help that Tony’s impromptu invitation and the jet that followed severed any chance of forcing him to see you. 

You felt guilty.

You had crossed a line by revealing something he wasn’t ready to when all he had done was help you. You needed to apologize and you needed to do it soon. 

“Ok, spill it.” 

You look up at Natasha’s pointed stare and sigh. 

“I can’t hide anything, can I?” you mutter tiredly. Nat tugs on your hair again and you hiss at the action. “I’m fine, Nat. Just trying to settle my mind.”

“Of what?” 

You take a deep breath debating whether it was a good idea to tell her of your past week with Loki. 

Nat despised him with every fiber of her being, but you… you didn’t. 

“Loki’s been a great teacher considering I’m a ticking time bomb...”  

“But?” Nat interrupts. 

“But,” you repeat with a huff. “I keep ruining everything with this stupid power.”

“You?” Nat asks, confused. “You ruined everything? Not him?”

“Nat…” 

“I’m sorry,” she sarcastically laughs. “That doesn’t make sense. You’ve done nothing wrong.” 

“You don’t understand,” you sigh. “If you just let me explain…”

“Then explain.” 

You take a deep breath and turn away from the mirror to look at Natasha directly. 

“I have invaded everyone’s privacy. I’ve learned things I have no right knowing and revealed things without permission. You already know how guilty I felt because of it,” you explain. “Yet, Loki wasn’t one of them. He’s immune to my power as I am to his but I recently crossed a line and uncovered something I wasn’t supposed to.”

“What was it?” 

“You know I can’t tell you.” 

 Natasha huffs in response but shrugs her curiosity off. 

“So?” she asks. “What’s wrong then?” 

“I feel really bad about it, Nat, and he’s avoiding me and I just want to apologize to him because I invaded his privacy but he won’t even let me get close to him to do it.”

“He doesn’t need an apology,” Nat scoffs. “He’s a grown man. He can lick up his wounds and move on.” 

You’re starting to regret confiding in her about your situation but Loki has yet to teach you how to evade telling the truth without necessarily resorting to lying.

“I apologized to you and everyone after my first outburst,” you remind her. “You didn’t need me to but I’m sure it helped.”

Natasha lets out a breath but she knew you had a point. 

“Loki doesn’t deserve your kindness.” 

She’s being honest with her opinion but you don’t feel the same way. 

“I think differently,” you answer. “I think it’s been a long time since Loki’s been treated with some kindness.” 

Natasha's eyes narrow down at you. 

“Do you…” she hesitates. “What exactly is your relationship with him?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Are you acquaintances? Friends? Or is it more?” 

You’re surprised at the question. 

“I guess we’re friends?” you answer unsurely. “Mentor and student seems weird so yeah… friends.” 

Natasha seems unconvinced but she doesn’t speak up on it. Instead, she motions you to face forward again so she could finish up with your hair.

“So do you think I’ll have time to slip out to apologize or am I going to have to wait until the party?” 

Nat can’t avoid the snort from escaping her promptly earning her a confused look from you. 

“Loki doesn’t go to the parties,” she tells you. “Not since I could remember.” 

“Then why did he come with us in the jet?” 

“Maybe because he has to monitor you and we have to monitor him?” 

Nat’s right but you can only hope that Loki might prove her wrong. 

“If he’s there… apologize to him,” Nat tells you hoping to ease the scowl that was settling on your face. “Just don’t expect him to forgive you. He’s not apologetic, far less forgiving.”

TTSWL Tag: @catsladen @is-it-madness @manyfandoms-marvel @mejusttryintogetby @illogicalfangirl @ariel-snow-tmnt @islinglivesinshire @musicconversedance @missmadwoman @smaranshakthi @adaydreamingdragon @poetic-fiasco @like-a-wildfire @jasminecalia @ha-tep @charbokbok @setsuna-meiou31 @ms-blvck @country-cowgirl-101 @bepo-is-sorry @hufflautia @waitforthehurricanrose @fictionalhoomanofnowhere @sanniegirl1214 @telenari @anonymouscastiel12 @ddaeing​

Loki Tag: @unicorniorosacomefrutillas @thesilentbluesparrow @oddly-drawn-muse @josiehosiedaninja @hp-hogwartsexpress @sadwaywardkid @wolf-lover74 @sizzlingbarbarianglitter @sigyn-nightshade @aoirohi @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @just-a-donut-who-reads @day-dreaming-fox @heykathchuu​

All Works Tag: @jmb959 @astudyoftimeywimeystuff @hellocookiecutter @steve-rogers-personal-hell @buckybarnesyard @not-zari-tak @strangersstranger @thefridgeismybestie @ariel-snow-tmnt @badhollandfluff @what-a-flammable-heart

[uas-fics]

-Title: Flower Crowns

Rating: G

Summary: Half lost on his walk, Leon finds a frustrated Piers attempting to weave flowers together.

Ships: Leon x Piers

Content Warnings: N/A

----

What a wonderful day for a walk. The sun shone over the yellow-green of the land. Not a single cloud floated across the blue sky. Flowers swayed in a gentle breeze. Rookidie chattered in the trees as bug pokemon skittered along the ground.

Simply a wonderful day outside of...Well, Leon didn't know exactly where he was, but he was at least sixty percent sure he was outside of Hulsbury. Or maybe Tuffield? He was on one side of the Northern Wild Areas.

Probably.

He stretched his arms up. His jacket sleeves rolled down to his elbows. The worn blue jacket had been his grandfather's and was still a little too big for him, even now that he was an adult, but it was comfortable and warm enough for spring days. He kept it with him when he wanted to go incognito since it wasn’t as distinguishable as his sponsor cape.

He could use more days off like this, more calming walks in nature with nothing but the plants, wild pokemon, and--

"Oh, c'mon!"

Leon jumped, nearly knocking his hat from his head.

Who was that?

He titled his head, listening. Someone swore up a storm not too far away. Half in an attempt to help, and half to seek confirmation of his location, Leon followed the colorful language over a small hill to its source.

Amongst a field of wildflowers and tall grass, someone kicked at the dirt. Grass, flowers, and dirt sprayed into the air.

"And you’re no help, you piece of--!" They spun around, throwing something.

Leon ducked just in time to avoid coming face to screen with a cellphone. The phone landed with a dull thud in the grass behind his feet.

Regret welled up in Leon's stomach. Maybe he should have just called the Pokemon League and asked them for help getting home. This person seemed too upset, and Leon interrupting their rage would just make them angrier, won't it?

"Champion Leon?"

Leon jumped at the sound of his name. Taking his gaze off the phone on the ground, he looked towards the phone's owner.

The gym leader of Spikemuth winced.

"Sorry 'bout that, mate." Piers raised his hands, palms facing forward as if he expected Leon to throw something back at him.

Leon shook his head, both to shake off his shock as well as to placate Piers. He picked up the phone.

"It's nothing to worry about," He reassured, wiping the screen on his jacket sleeve. On the screen, some sort of brightly colored webpage stared back at Leon. In a curling font, the header read 'Just A Unovan Country Gal' with 'recipes, DIYs, and patterns for good old girls' written underneath.

Deciding not to ask about the site, he pressed the power button as he passed the phone back, darkening the screen. Piers put the phone in his pocket. He hadn’t noticed Leon staring at the screen or didn’t acknowledge he knew Leon saw it, at least.

"You're lost, aren’t you?" Piers didn't hesitate to ask.

"What? Of course not. I know where I am," Leon lied, unsure why he did. Everyone in the Pokemon League knew he was terrible with directions. Every gym leader had to come to find and escort him to their gym at some point or another, including Piers.

"If you need help gettin' home, I can take you,'' Piers offered. "I'm done with...I'm done for today."

"Done with what?" Leon couldn't help but venture. The Unovain website flashed in his mind’s eye.

He couldn't figure why Piers of all people would be in a wildflower field in the middle of the day so far from Spikemuth. Was he picking flowers for a special someone? Searching for a certain pokemon? Training his team? Did it have to do with the website he had open on his phone?

Piers wrinkled his nose. "None of your business."

It was Leon's turn to hold up his hands. "Sorry." He took a few steps past Piers. "Didn't mean to pry. I'll leave you to it if you can point me toward Hulsbury."

Piers eyed him up and down, slowly, calculatingly. A shiver ran up Leon's back. Why did his stomach twist into knots? It wasn't like Piers planned on stabbing him.

With a heavy sigh, Piers pinched Leon's jacket between his fingers, stopping him from wandering off.

"Flower crown," he muttered, refusing to look at him.

"What?"

"Flower. Crown. I was trying to make a flower crown." Piers took his hand away to run it through his thick bangs, pushing them back away from his face. A tinge of pink blush dusted his face.

Leon bit the inside of his cheek to keep a laugh in. Flower crowns? Piers was the least likely person to be making flower crowns. Leon tried to imagine the dark-type gym leader with a ring of wild daisies and dandelions around his head but only succeeded in a snort of amusement at the idea.

Piers glowered and raised his hand. All of his nails had a sheen of shiny black paint, except for the middle one lifted at Leon, which was a matte white.

"If I left you out here, you would die of exposure before you found your way back."

Leon covered his mouth before another snort could make its way out.

"Sorry, sorry, but..." He took a breath, "why do you need a flower crown? It doesn't much match your..." he gestured to Piers’ punk, monochromatic outfit, “aesthetic.”

"It isn't for me," Piers snapped. "It's for Marnie, my sister. She wants one, not me."

Leon wasn't sure he'd ever actually met Piers' sister. He rarely went to Spikemuth, and when he did, he just stopped by the gym to deliver papers to Piers and get out. Had he ever even seen Piers’ sister before? She was about Hop's age, he knew that, but he couldn't remember if she was a little older or a little younger.

"Oh, of course. That makes sense," Leon said. "That's nice of you to make her one."

Piers searched his face for any sign of insincerity. Leon flashed him his champion smile. Whether that helped or not, he didn’t know.

Piers snorted. More to himself than Leon, he muttered, "It'd be nicer if I knew how to make one. Stupid website wasn’t any help..."

At this, Leon finally took a gander around. Most of the flowers had been plucked in the immediate area. They either sat in a pile or as parts of what Leon could only assume were attempts at flower crowns.

He knelt and picked a crown up, holding it carefully. Yellow daisies made up the crown. Each daisy had a slit cut in the stem with the next daisy slipped through until the end where the last stem was tied to the first. It was crude and the spacing of the flowers uneven, but not the worst flower crown Leon had ever seen.

Before Leon could look closer, Piers snatched the crown out of his hands. Pale yellow petals fell to the ground.

He glared, the tips of his ears burning red. “Making flower crowns isn’t a life skill they teach you in school, you know.”

Leon tilted his head to the side then asked, "Do you want help?"

"Help?" Piers tossed the crown into the tall grass. "You know how to make them?"

Leon nodded. "I grew up in Postwick." He fell back to his bottom. "Everyone knew how to make a proper crown." His lips twitched up into a smile. "I remember chasing down a wooloo to stop it from eating the crown I'd just given it."

He took a few daisies from the pile next to him. It took mere seconds for his fingers to remember the motion of wrapping stem over stem.

"Silly thing was someone's prized wooloo, and the farmer spoiled it rotten," Leon continued, occasionally looking down at his hands, "so when it saw me coming towards it with a handful of flowers, it thought it was getting a treat."

He laughed at the memory. He couldn’t have been more than seven or eight at the time. His mother still brought it up when she wanted to embarrass him in front of guests.

“I remember looking out the window and seeing my little boy, nearly in tears, shouting at a fat old wooloo.” She’d laugh. “Oh, he chased that thing for an hour trying to catch it!”

As Leon continued rambling, Piers watched his hands weave together daisies, dandelions, and corncockle. He sat back with his hands resting across his knees. He puffed his cheeks a little as he watched, breathing only through his nose. Whether he noticed he was doing it or not, Leon wasn't sure and didn't ask.

"And that's how I broke my arm for the first time," Leon finished, holding up the crown. He placed it on Piers' head where it sat unevenly on top of his ponytails. Leon beamed at Piers, proud of his work as if they were children playing in the fields of Postwick and not young adults.

Piers brushed his fingertips against the soft petals. He took a dandelion and a wild clover flower from one of the piles. With his face set in determination, he started to copy what he'd seen Leon doing. He wove together six flowers before tossing his hands in the air.

"What am I doing wrong?" He demanded.

Leon scooted until he sat next to Piers then took the crown to examine it. He nodded to himself. Without asking, Leon took Piers' hands in his own.

"You're doing it backward. See here?" Leon made Piers' thumb press against the first wrap in the crown. Instead of locking around the flower, the stem went behind it. A simple mistake for a first-time crown weaver to make.

Piers pulled his hands back.

"I think I got it." He took a meadows cranesbill and corncockle and began the wrap and lock method Leon showed him. He held up his attempt for inspection.

"That's it. Just keep doing that until it's long enough."

"This is going to take a while," Piers said, adding a daisy to the chain.

Leon shrugged sympathetically. "It might," he settled into a more comfortable, half-reclined position, "but it'll be fine. I'm here to help."

Piers paused and looked over at Leon, eyeing him once again. This time, however, Leon didn't feel a chill run up his back. Instead, heat crept up his cheeks at Piers' half smile towards.

Leon's pride wanted him to hold Piers' gaze as he would with any other gym leader, but he broke away to look at a patch of foxgloves in the distance.

"Thanks." Piers turned back to his project.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while before Piers held out a flower. Its stem was too short.

"D’you know what this is?" He asked, dropping the flower in Leon's lap.

Leon picked it up and spun it in between his fingers. Of course, he knew what it was, but he shrugged and pretended to think it over.

"Primrose, I think." He said. "My grandma kept some fancier varieties in the house when I was growing up."

The memory of cleaning up broken pots formed a smile on his face. Sonia and he landed themselves on his grandmother’s naughty list for killing her primroses, even if it was an accident.

Piers hummed. "I thought that's what it was. And this?"

Leon moved next to Piers. "That's a ragged robin. This is a cornflower. That's chicory." He continued pointing out the names of the flowers he knew, silently thanking his mother and grandparents for explaining all the wildflowers to him when he was a kid.

Of course, he didn't know them as well as Milo. He couldn't tell what medical uses dandelions had or how to make coffee from chicory, but Piers seemed impressed nonetheless with his botanical knowledge.

Leon picked up a flower from a failed crown attempt. He held it up, about to explain what it was, but Piers spoke first.

“That’s a wild violet.”

Leon slowly nodded. He was a little disappointed he didn’t get to explain it but shoved the feeling away. Of course, Piers would know such a common flower.

Piers smiled down at his work. “Marnie made me fill a whole basket with them once. She learnt you can cook with them.”

“Did you--cook with it, I mean?”

“Unfortunately.” Piers snorted. “I’ve had pot brownies that taste less like grass.” He paused, then added nonchalantly, “Before I was part of the league, of course.”

, Leon snorted a laugh to himself. That was a lie, he knew, but instead of remarking on it, he said, “Did you use the flowers or leaves?”

“Marnie baked them, not me. I just turned on the oven. I think she just put the whole plant in there, roots and all.” He laughed. “I’m going to have to tease her about that when I get home. Thanks for reminding me about that.”

Finally, Piers held up his crown. It was far from perfect, some of the flowers lost their petals and long stems stuck out at odd angles, but Piers held it out as if it were a royal crown. His expression wasn’t unlike how Leon’s mum said he looked when he finished making a crown for the spoiled wooloo.

"Wow, it looks great," Leon complimented.

Piers snorted with a smile. "For a first attempt, I guess." He looked at his flower crown, then at Leon, then back, before reaching up. He took hold of the bill of Leon's baseball cap. With a flick of the wrist, he tossed it off then replaced it with the crown.

He smiled at him. “You look like a prince, champ.” He teased before bending down and picking up the hat.

“I could say the same.”

The two shared a laugh and grins. Their fingers touched as Piers pushed the hat into Leon's hands. Leon wasn’t sure the touch was unintentional.

"It's getting late."

Leon looked up at the saturated orange-red sky.

"If you get me to Hulsbury, I can get a taxi home."

Piers chuckled and shook his head. "You really are lost, aren’t you? We're not too far outside the Spikemuth Tunnel, mate."

Leon dropped his hat. He held his head in his hands. The heat of embarrassment crept up his face. He had wandered farther off the beaten path than he thought. How did he even get so far away from where he started like this?

With a sympathetic smile, Piers put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

"How about I take you back to my place, as a thank you for teaching me this." He gestured to the crown on his head. "I'll cook you up a little somethin' then you can hitch a ride on a flying taxi back home."

Leon's heart skipped a beat. He swallowed the embarrassment down and smiled.

"That sounds great."

----

AN: I stopped writing this halfway through to go outside, find some flowers, and learn how to do this because the way I described Piers doing it is how I've always done it. XP It is a completely valid way to make flower chains don't get me wrong, but it doesn't look nearly as fancy.

Anyway, maybe a little too sugary sweet, but I wanted to write some short fluff and doggone it I did!

Check out @uas-art for more of my drawings.

[yunkiwii]

tattoos together | college au

Pairing: FWB!Seonghwa x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff დ

Warnings: slightly suggestive, drinking, language

Word Count: ~3k

Requested: no, but you can see how to do so here if you’d like!

A/N: I recommend listening to tattoos together by lauv, since this is based on that song. ♡

Summary: (y/n) met Seonghwa in college and they quickly became close, ending up as friends with benefits. On a night out with some friends both of them ended up drinking a bit to much and well, I think we all know where this is going.

⇘

“Whereee shouuuuld weee go next?” (y/n) asked, loudly, as she grabbed Seonghwa’s arm so she wouldn’t fall, being tipsy from all the wine she had been drinking with her friends at dinner.

“You should probably head back home before you hurt yourself or someone else.”

“Don’t be a mood killer, sweetie!” (y/n) groaned back to Mia, pointing a finger to her way too sober roommate and best friend. "We still have a long long night ahead of us!" (y/n) stumbles making Seonghwa hold her closer to him.

Seonghwa wasn't nearly as drunk as (y/n), just tipsy enough to go on board with her crazy plans without thinking twice.

"So, let’s go find a party to crash!" the boy started walking away from his friends dragging a smiley faced (y/n) with him, both clearly more intoxicated than the rest of the group.

They hadn’t gone far, mainly because of how slow their feet were moving, when Hongjoong intervened.“Guys! Wait up!” they stumbled on their own feet when turning around to look at their friend. Their two friends were already approaching them. “Do you guys really think it is a good idea to just wander around like that?”

“YES!” both stated firmly at the same time before bursting into laughter.

“Well, I’m not in the mood and since you’re both adults you can take good care of yourselves.” Mia shrugged her shoulders and was about to leave when she remembered something else, “Please be quiet when you get home, and be safe.” She threw a warning look at Seonghwa when saying the last words. She knew how crazy her best friend could get with a couple of drinks and a party, and Seonghwa had a strong effect upon (y/n) that Mia never understood, and she only hoped he would use it for (y/n)’s sake.

“I’ll take you home, Mia. See you tomorrow guys.” Hongjoong did a little run to catch up to the girl. The other two friends bursted into laughter again when they saw Hongjoong place an arm around Mia’s shoulder.

“Now we know why they wanted to go home so badly…”

“Oh Seonghwa, they’re not like us. They will probably just cuddle for now. Let’s go!” (y/n) grabbed the boy’s hand and started her demand to find a party again.

“What do you mean they’re not likes us? We also cuddle!” (y/n) giggled at how offended Seonghwa sounded.

“Hm you know, they want a real relationship, we’re just friends having fun. Besides, our cuddles are never just cuddling.” She said it like it wasn’t a big deal and didn’t really think much of it. Seonghwa on the other hand got hurt, he didn’t quite understand why though. They agreed from the very start that this was a casual friends with benefits kind of thing, nothing more.

He shook these thoughts out of his head, thinking perhaps it was just the alcohol speaking.

In the meantime (y/n) uploaded a story of them on Instagram asking if there were any parties they could crash. That story led them to a new club that had opened recently, making (y/n) almost run there out of excitement. This was her first night out in two months, after being trapped between her room and the library to study for exams. Now she was finally free and wanted to live it to the fullest, Seonghwa not minding at all to join in.

Unfortunately, the excitement soon turns into disappointment. They get to the club, ID’s in hand, bodies already moving to the muffled beat leaving the building, but the security guard stops them from going any further. They look at each other and back at the big, buffy man, that blocked the entrance with his arm, with confused looks. They had already showed their ID’s, it didn’t make sense.

Then, the guard pointed at (y/n)’s clothes. She was wearing black shorts, fishnet tights, combat boots and the piece of clothing that seemed to be the problem, an oversized boyfriend style t-shirt.

“You can’t come in with boy’s clothes.” The big man stated, without an ounce of emotion in his voice.

“WHAT?” (y/n)’s posture changed completely; a defiant look marked all over her face, “That doesn’t make any sense! These aren’t boy’s clothes; these are MY CLOTHES! And even if they were boy’s clothes, we live in a free country, I can wear whatever I want!”

“Then go wear whatever you want somewhere else. You can’t come in like that, it’s the club’s policy.”

“Fuck the club’s policy! That’s so unethical what the hell?! I can’t believe people were recommending me this shit hole!” (y/n) screamed into the guard’s face, pointing fingers, waving arms and when she was finished, she spat on his shoes. Yes, she spat. Seonghwa grabbed her hand immediately pulling her out of there before they got into trouble, and ran away into nowhere, just wanting to get away.

“I’ll make sure to fill a complaint later.” Seonghwa stated after catching his breath from the unplanned cardio. “Also, I think this run sobered me.”

“I can’t believe that wearing oversized clothes is breaking club’s policy, what the hell?” (y/n) sat on the sidewalk still annoyed with the situation. “I’ve would’ve spat on his face if he weren’t to be that freaking huge.” Seonghwa laughed loudly sitting down next to her, making her laugh as well. “Thank you for pulling me out, he could probably smash me with one hand.”

“That’s what I’m here for (y/n), Mia delegated me the job when she decided to go home. But I got to say, you scare me sometimes.” He bumped his shoulder on hers lightly, making her look up at him smiling. “What should we do now? Go home?”

“I guess... the night is ruined anyway, and I also think the run sobered me.” (y/n) chuckled, leaning her head to rest on the boy’s shoulder. This simple gesture almost made Seonghwa forget how to breathe, starting to feel funny things in his stomach. He remained as still and quiet as possible, afraid that even the slightest movement would make her stand up and break the contact.

They stayed like that for a while, still recovering from the run. Until (y/n) noticed something right in front of them that made her stand up with a sudden movement, startling Seonghwa. She widened her eyes and looked down at her friend, as happy as a kid opening Christmas’ presents.

“What?”

“This night can still be memorable! I’m a genius!” she started crossing the road, stopping in the middle to look at her friend, still standing up from the sidewalk. “Come one! Hurry up!”

Seonghwa could not believe how a person could change their mood that fast. A few moments ago, she was pouty, annoyed, angry, and just wanted to go home. But now, she looks like a child and is ready for a new adventure as if nothing had happened before. He did love that about her. Love? Wait, no what? He liked her, liked, as a friend. He was sure of it. Or was he?

“How?”

“How what?”

“How are you going to make this night memorable?” that question made her smile even wider, grabbing his hand for what seemed to be the hundredth time that night, dragging him to a small shop with a neon light sign. As soon as Seonghwa realised what it was he stepped back.

“No, (y/n), no way you’re getting a tattoo here!” his face expression was shock, and nothing else.

“No, I am not. We are!”

“What do you even know about this place? Is it even hygienic?” Seonghwa glanced over the tattoo shop with disgust.

“I don’t know,” (y/n) shrugged her shoulders, “but we should get inside and find out.” She stepped in without a care in the world, a little bell rang when she opened the door.

Seonghwa walked behind her looking around, analysing every small detail searching for any red flags that would tell him to get the hell out of there. So far, everything seemed nice, it was organized, the store overall seemed clean, and the tattoo drafts hung upon the walls were actually aesthetically pleasing.

“This doesn’t look so bad… but what kind of tattoo shop is opened until this late at night?” The boy wasn’t yet convinced, and (y/n) knew it would take him a while, being as cautious as he is.

“Stop being so septic about everything, Hwa!”

“May I help you?” a voice coming from behind them made (y/n) jump. A tall woman came out of the side door, probably leading to where the tattoos were made, and greeted them with a smile. “Sorry if I startled you, love.”

“Oh, hm, we want to get tattoos! Together!” Seonghwa glanced over at (y/n) wondering why she was being so weird and flustered all of a sudden, so lost looking at her that he didn’t even corrected the together part. But he went back to reality when the woman spoke again.

“So, you want matching tattoos?”

“NO! We don’t, I don’t, I haven’t agreed to this yet! (y/n), a word please?”

“We’ll be right back!” (y/n) said all smiley to the woman, who smiled back at her while she was basically being dragged to the outside again. “What the hell Hwa? You could’ve been nicer back there!”

“You are all heart eyed looking at that tattoo artist!”

“So what? … are you jealous Hwa?”, (y/n) smirked, tilting her head sweetly, pleased with how annoyed the boy looked about the situation.

“What? No! I don’t have any reason to be jealous, this,” he pointed between them,” this isn’t a relationship, so no, I’m not jealous. You wish. And don’t give me that look!”

“You look cute when you get nervous, Hwa.”

“Shut up, let’s just go home!” he said as he started to walk away, but (y/n) was stubborn and wouldn’t leave without a tattoo so she stood in front of him so he wouldn’t go any further.

“We haven’t gotten our tattoos yet. And I really want a tattoo on my thigh and I really want to do it with you!”, she pointed her index at him touching his chest slightly.

“Why though?”

“Because I don’t have any thigh tattoo yet, duh..”

“And you should get one, there’s plenty of space for it.” He smirked glancing at (y/n)’s thick thighs, getting a soft punch on his shoulder as a response. “But why with me? Do I really have to make one too?”

“Yes! I really want us to have something ours, I have one with Mia as well and you’re my only other best friend and I don’t want to lose you.”

“And how will a tattoo help you with that, huh?” he crossed his arms looking down at (y/n) with furrowed eyebrows.

“When I get mad at Mia for some reason and I want to hate her, I look at the tattoo we made together and it just brings back all the good stuff and I know everything will be okay, because at the end of the day we still love each other and that won’t change over a stupid fight.” The girl gets embarrassed as soon as she realises that she just shared something that until now was only hers, making her look down at her feet. “You probably think it’s silly and that’s okay, we won’t do it if you don’t want to.” Voice quieter than before, barely audible but Seonghwa heard her just fine.

“Okay, let’s get thigh tattoos. Together.”

(y/n)’s eyes widened at the statement, and the looks of happiness and excitement of before came back to life again, making Seonghwa laugh at how adorable his friend looked.

“Really? Thank you so much Hwa!!!” she hugged his torso so tightly that he almost went out of breath.

“I have one condition though. To make it more fun, you know?” (y/n) nodded, indicating him to proceed, “I pick a design for you and you one for me, and we can only see it after it is already tattooed on our skin. What do you say?”

“Uhhh that does sound like fun! But don’t make it too big nor too dark, please!” he nodded in agreement and they went back inside to pick the said designs.

They shared their idea with the tattoo artist, who got really excited about it and took them, one at the time, into the other room to discuss their ideas and bring them to life. (y/n) picked a woman’s body silhouette, besides looking really cool it just made sense since their friendship started as something more physical than emotional. Seonghwa on the other hand chose a minimalist alien, it reminded him of when they first met and (y/n) couldn’t pronounce his name correctly and would just call him alien face, he also asked the tattoo artist to make it face her so she wouldn’t have to look into a mirror to see it properly.

(y/n) went in first to get her right thigh tattooed, so excited that she didn’t bother to take off her clothes, simply ripping her tights in the spot she wanted the tattoo.

“Hm ok, that was hot!” Seonghwa said softly, trying to control himself avoiding looking at (y/n)’s now more exposed thigh.

“Keep it in your pants, Mr. Park.” (y/n) laughed as she laid down to finally get the tattoo her dear friend picked, getting more and more anxious as the moment approached while Luna got her supplies ready. Seonghwa then pulled a chair to sit next to her and keep her distracted so she wouldn’t try to peak.

After a while, (y/n) stopped feeling the needle puncturing her skin and looked up at Luna, eyes wondering if it was already done. The other woman nodded, and she immediately stood up to see the result, a high pitch squeak leaving her lips as soon as she saw an alien facing her.

“Hwa!! I have your face on my thigh!!” her eyes wide, looking between her leg and her friend, a huge smile on her face and eyes almost tearing up at how happy she was. “I love it, I love it, I love it!” she wrapped her arms around the boy’s neck and gave him a kiss on his left cheek, squeezing him against her and holding him there for a few seconds before pulling away. “Now it’s your turn! Go, go!”

Seonghwa got up right away and started to take his pants off, making (y/n) look away.

“Please (y/n), as if you’ve never seen me naked!” he chuckled throwing his pants at her as soon as got them completely off, catching her off guard making her laugh.

They repeated the same process, now with (y/n) seated in the chair keeping Seonghwa distracted by making terrible puns and dad jokes. The needle puncturing his skin stang a bit but, just like (y/n), he already had a few tattoos, so he got used to it quickly. When Luna finished the second tattoo of this iconic duo, as she started to call them, Seonghwa couldn’t help but laugh at (y/n)’s choice.

“This will certainly remind me of you and make me hate you a little less if it comes to that.” He chuckled making (y/n) blush a bit without him noticing. “Thank you for talking me into this, it’s a memorable night for sure.” And kissed her cheek, not as roughly as she did to him, it was a soft kiss, his lips barely touching her skin, and yet it was enough to make her even more flustered, awakening funny feelings in her tummy.

After spending all that money on the tattoos, they decided it would be best for their bank accounts to walk home instead of getting an uber, making their way across town to (y/n) and Mia’s apartment in a slow pace, most of the way made in silence for they were too tired and sleepy, needing to channel all their remain energy towards their legs to be able to walk.

As they were approaching (y/n)’s building their pace slowed down, stopping right in front of the pathway, the girl already looking for the keys in her messy bag while walking towards the front door.

“See you tomorrow (y/n)” he says as they reach the door, (y/n) with the keys in hand already opening the door, and he places a kiss on her forehead not breaking the contact right away. (y/n) didn’t say anything until he was already halfway the pathway.

“Hwa, wait.”

“Huh?” the boy turned around, standing near the sidewalk.

“Why don’t you stay for the night?” she asked almost in a whisper, but Seonghwa heard it anyway and took a few steps closer to her.

“Oh (y/n), I would but I’m really tired and-”

“Just for cuddles, Hwa…” she tried to keep her eyes in his but the vulnerability her request showed made her instinctually look down at her feet.

“Just cuddles? Are you sure?” Seonghwa couldn’t hide his amusement, since (y/n) always made it clear that to her the benefits part of their friendship should be associated with sex at all times because, according to her, getting emotional and cuddle just for the sake of cuddling would turn this into a real and serious relationship, even though the boy tried to convince her otherwise multiple times.

“Shut up and get in before I change my mind.”

They went up to the apartment as quietly as possible, making their way to (y/n)’s bedroom right away and changing into more comfortable clothing, which to Seonghwa meant underwear and nothing more.

He laid on his back wrapping an arm around (y/n)’s shoulders as she laid her head onto his chest, embracing his torso and putting one leg over his. It was comfortable, warm, and felt safe, for both of them.

“This still doesn’t mean we’re in a relationship Hwa.” (y/n) groaned falling deeply into sleep.

“We could be though.” But (y/n) didn’t hear it.

♡MASTERLIST♡

net: @ateezlovenet

[ferret-not-microwave]

Les Amis Modern AU: What They Wish Others Believed About Them (Part 4)

[I kind of wrote this in response to some general trends in characterising the Amis. There are some stereotypes which I'm not quite comfortable with.]

[So much delay. Sorry.]

Joly:

• Really, really wishes that people don't laugh at him for his anxiety issues. He is truly terrified of getting infected with some disease or the other, and even more terrified of spreading it to Joly and Chetta. It doesn't help that he is one of the most sincere students of the lot, and spends a lot of time reading medical journals, which feed into his panic. He feels safe wearing masks, using rubbing alcohol (or wearing gloves), and having a bag full of basic first aid supplies, and gets embarrassed if anyone judges him for it. Also, he doesn't like it if "concerned" people ask him whether he had a past history of debilitating disease or something, he doesn't want to discuss it at all, okay? -_-

• When Joly fusses about illness in the Musain, it is him letting his guard down. He has to actively rein in his anxiety to function in the hospital, and gets super exhausted from hiding it. His tells in the hospital are are wide eyes behind his protective goggles and a compulsive toying with the wristband of his gloves. He's one of the most courageous individuals ever because of what he faces on a regular basis. He hopes that he might get some reassurance from the Amis to stop his spiralling thoughts, and he mostly gets it.

• Joly definitely has a wild side, and is more than his anxious, serious self. If there's one who can one-up Courf's cheesy pick-up lines, it is Joly. With a eyebrow quirk that leaves everyone giggly and blushing. If there's one who can set a Karaoke stage on fire (not literally, that would be R), it's Joly. If there's one who can down shots to match Bahorel, it's Joly. The one who is the most eager to go skinny dipping? Joly. The one who is, oddly, the most eager to break a pinata? Joly. Joly is more than a "quiet science nerd who checks his tongue in the mirror all the time".

• Joly and Ferre INSIST that they do not talk about random medical trivia all the time. Honestly, their shared interests involve Jane Austen and massive amounts of gossip with tea, along with Doctor Who, Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett. MASSIVE AMOUNTS OF TEA, IN EVERY SENSE OF THE WORD.

• There are days he wants to tackle people like an angry Pikachu. But real life is tough, and not everyone has the privilege of confronting people. But he really, really can do without people casting aspersions on his poly relationship with Bossuet and 'Chetta ALL THE TIME. He has been confronted as an "opportunist" in Pride walks, faced with people's pitying look to Bossuet or 'Chetta as though he is stringing them both along or "sharing" 'Chetta with Bossuet, cheered on and slapped on the back by straight cismen for "knowing how to have fun", and once directly asked if he's the one who will marry 'Chetta. He goes into panic often, and for the longest time thought himself a really awful person.

• Beware a Joly in a farmer's market. Not because of haggling, but because some people ALWAYS assume that he's amazing at math while he actually fumbles at the cash counter. Similarly, he hates it if people crack shady jokes about him being a Marie Kondo around him (just because he likes neatness AND MARIE KONDO THANK YOU VERY MUCH). And no, he doesn't like rice all the time.

• Please give back the Tupperwares. Unlike popular opinion, Joly won't chase you down for his Tupperware like some do, and isn't particularly possessive about them. That doesn't mean that he can replace misplaced Tupperwares for all eternity, please. ;_; (Same goes for the beeswax food wraps and dino bandages, c'mon peeps don't help yourself to them indiscriminately ;_;).

• Apart from his baggy sweatshirt and dinosaur pajamas aesthetic, he also has a dress shirt and pleated pants collection that would probably leave Jay Gatsby jealous AF.

Bossuet:

• Is really self-conscious about his receding hairline. He had taken to shaving his head to make it look cool, because he's really uncomfortable with weird jokes about his age and baldness. Shaving heads is pretty high-maintenance at times, and he's slowly opening up to let the hair grow back on the sides of the head for the heck of it. He used to have a large collection of hats too, which he still uses occasionally, but now it is just a fashion accessory, not a way to hide. He likes scarves as well.

• He used to flinch and swallow his discomfort when people would touch his scalp without permission, now he firmly brushes off their hands with a light scowl.

• Similarly, he hates it when people actively try to compare him to Joly. He hates being considered less successful, a "third wheel" to Joly and 'Chetta and someone who can be taken less seriously. This doesn't mean he is jealous or angry with Joly at all though.

• He feels really, really angry when Joly sometimes breaks down in front of him and 'Chetta when confronted with comments on their relationship. He can and will stonewall anyone who hurts either of them.

• Bossuet understands Joly's anxiety because he faces anxiety as well. He often gets nightmares of his "bad luck" turning batshit Final-Destination-esque and resulting in horrible accidents to Joly, 'Chetta amd the rest of the Amis. He knows the "bad luck" jokes are good humouring, but it wears him down a lot in exam/interview/work meeting weeks and leaves him third and fourth guessing himself. He had also entered a bout of depression because the "bad luck" jokes had convinced himself that he can't progress in life because what's the use. It took a lot of work and, oddly, a super niche article from the Amis blog detailing research on how some societies actively ostracize people for being "unlucky" and how it is linked to major societal oppression, to help him.

• Bossuet loves having a heart of gold. Sometimes some people tell him not to be so nice ("what if that person has cheated you off money with a sob story?"). He refuses, because he cherishes being nice and knows his limits. He sometimes worries if he's being stupid, like when the great "attendance-by-proxy" disaster happens. But Marius' broad and grateful smile, "hi, how are you doing?" texts every morning, and monthly batch of AMAZING chocolate cookies makes it worth it.

• Bossuet's accidents do lead to some happy accidents. He stumbled on a whole new recipe of gooey brownies by accident. An amazing combination of dark chocolate and red chilli peppers (maybe not so weird in retrospect)? By accident. He fell upon Courfe's sandcastle once, but it resulted in a rare hermit crab crawling out. Courfe gave a treat at the new brunch place he was saving up for, because apparently that hermit crab had made Ferre all starry-eyed and happier than he had been in weeks. And as for the rest pf the accidents? Nothing that duct tape , 'Chetta, Joly and occasionally Feuilly can't help with. In all, his accidents are always smallish, and never monumental.

• Bossuet can put 'Chetta and Ferre to shame with his eyebrow raising (at least occasionally? Hehe?). He does that a lot when people ask him if he has put water on fire or has fallen into wells. "Like bruh? I don't go anywhere close to wells, I love sidewalks and what's with everyone asking me about the kitchen being on fire?" He also does that a lot to piners (R, Ep, Courfe, 'Parnasse).

• Bossuet is one of Enj's closest friends in Law School (apart from Courfe), because Law classes and shared optional papers. Duh. They often have long discussions which are super pleasant, fluffy, yet sensible because of his really sensitive optimism. Bossuet's unorthodox insights make their way into Enj's notes for ABC meetings, and he credits him always. Similarly Enj bails him out with attendance issues. Bossuet often calmly advices him about R. Since Joly has a similar relationship with Ferre, Bossuet and Joly sometimes help Enj and Ferre sort out lingering grievances between them, or plain hear them out. Enj and Bossuet have Froyo days.

Musichetta:

• Loves, loves, LOVES books. Has no idea why people think nerds come in a kind of stereotype only ("I don't look like you", she complains to Joly and Ferre one day, "but I can defeat you two in a Jane Austen quiz WTF!" They agree emphatically, and Ferre adds "and maybe Jehan too. Maybe".). She is a massive sucker for Comic-Cons and hates men who try to prove otherwise. -_- She loves libraries as much as she loves bars.

• Has no idea why people think she's super bitchy or about to eat them up. Many people plain run when she so much as looks at them while doing a shift as a barista in the Musain. Or ask for "the nicer barista" (Cosette?). When she breathes a sigh of relief when someone treats her nice, she also braces herself for self-righteous "saviours". "Are you sure you are doing okay with those men?" "They are using you!". If she poured milk all over a client's trousers because of such a comment not-so-accidentally, no one needs to know. ;)

• Sometimes, she feels drained out. Having to support both her partners anxiety can leave her down too. They are amazing people, who love her a lot, and know that she needs her recharge time. Often Bossuet takes over in caring for Joly and vice-versa. 'Chetta has a small arrangement with Courfe on those days. If he has free time, the two of them go for an amazing, super relaxing spa session. Bahorel is back-up spa partner. The two of them know not to ask questions, but let her unwind her thoughts and air them out.

• 'Chetta joined Les Amis L'ABC much later. One of her pet peeves were when Joly or Bossuet would go to protests which could easily turn violent because of right wing trolls and the police swarming the city. Specifically, when they went without more than a word or two to her. She would get worried sick, particularly if they couldn't pick up the phone within half an hour of the protest ending, and would cry alone because she didn't want to come off as needy and one of those people who do not support their cause.

• She finally broke down before them after Bossuet had a small concussion. They were really shamefaced at having not thought about her feelings, and their apologies ran for hours. While Joly promised to regularly give her updates, Bossuet asked her to join the ABC if she is comfortable with it. It took time for her to accept that she was being in the group because of the cause and not because she wanted to helicopter-mom Joly and Bossuet, but when the next protest happened, she realised that she was in a place she always wanted to be in.

• The Amis thought that she was a member anyway. She would holler at

• 'Chetta hates it when people think that it's Joly or Bossuet who end up lavishing gifts on her all the time. True, they do, but she does it too. She's a sucker for thoughtful gift giving, and she spoils the Amis A LOT OF TIMES. She can scour the Earth for ideal gifts for her boys, and she often takes care of a stray bill or two, as much as she humanely can. She doesn't play a one-upping battle of gifts though, she just loves a lot.

• She is really self conscious about her small hands and tiny feet. Which seem to her too small in comparison with the rest of her body. Sometimes she used to wear really fluffy mittens in winter to hide how small her hands her. Not so much now. :)

•She confided to Jehan that she didn't like people romanticizing her small hands and feet because she thought they were putting unrealistic standards of the "frail beauty" on her when she was anything but. She said this after she heard R chortle about how Joly had introduced her as having tiny hands and feet. The discussion ended in her gaping and then crying out of laughter because (according to Jehan) apparently Joly was really drunk when he first talked to the Amis about her, and had also said something like "she has fortune-teller eyes, yannow! Ask Bossuet! And her dimples! Marius, you booby, you pool noodle, I know how you feel like when you met Cosette!"

Apparently Bahorel had replied with "you need new pants" and then started laughing like no tomorrow. Bossuet, not so drunk (because he was late to the party), had taken the sensible route and shown the Amis the picture the three of them took after their first date.

• Seriously, she knows zilch about tarot cards or natal charts.

[elias-code]

My OC's relationships on the Dream SMP

These are all characters, not the actual streamers! <3 It's also not all of them since I don't watch a few of them :) I harbour no hate towards the people behind the characters that I have issues with lmao

Awesamdude - Negative relationship - basically, he let Quackity get away with putting Techno away, let Tommy die and get revived by Dream and then never apologised, and then let ghostbur die and... wtf - Yeah we aren't friends. In another universe, if he weren't the warden, we might get along.

BadBoyHalo - He kinda gives me bad vibes - After the egg stuff I just don't really like to be around him... he killed Foolish and tried to kill everyone at the banquet which I just don't vibe with - I kinda understand why he joined the egg. I mean he was there for Skeppy which I think is ok, but he really went off the deep end. If he redeems himself, I'll be the first to befriend him (cautiously)

Callahan - Alright I taught him some American Sign Language for basic communication - I go and hang out with him whenever I feel like there's too much angst on the server, he's so neutral it's honestly relaxing.

Captain Puffy - We don't know each other very well - I mean I agree with her when it comes to the egg and she seems nice but it's hard to be friends with her when her son is Dream... poor Foolish, though.

Connor - I don't know how to feel about him - I don't have anything against him but... he just seems like someone I wouldn't get along with so I don't hang out with him. He is kinda funny tho

Dream - Ok, ok, he's just an ass - I'm not even gonna list why, you know why... I'm just saying. - I do feel bad for him since Quackity just beats the living shit out of him and he's already in prison so why...?

Dream XD - I fear no man... but that thing... it scares me. - Why his voice do that?? - I avoid him but if he approached me, I would be ok with being his friend, I mean he's a god. If I don't then I might die. Might as well use it to the fullest extent I can.

Eret - I don't really understand why he joined the opposing side during the L'Manburg war - I mean she's cool! I like their outfits and it's nice to have another queer person on the DSMP - I think we'd be good friends in another life, but our friend groups don't overlap very much, so it's hard to hang with them.

Foolish - Little bit scary ngl - Lightning go brrrrrr - I feel really bad for him since he's gotta be related to Dream and he died during the egg shit. That's just cruel. - also I don't really vibe with his personality but I do like to talk to him about his building ventures since I also love to build

Fundy - I feel sooooo bad for him - He's super cute, super sweet, and he just deserves more love - I plant sweet berries around his house to brighten his day whenever I can and I also feed his fox - I love to talk to him and he teaches me dutch sometimes because it's an interesting language. Also, he just deserves a good role model in his life... Like Will kinda sucked as his dad, Schlatt was not a good role model, and his friends don't really care about him. :( - Um also (IRL) he's the reason I started watching the DSMP, I love coding and Dutch so it was a very good mix for me

George - I sleep the opposite amount that he does. - I love his mushroom aesthetic but I stay away from him in fear of Dream XD. - I don't have a lot to say about him since he's not on the dsmp much

Jack Manifold - Yo he's lowkey annoying??? - Give Tommy his hotel back??? He died??? - If he were nicer to Tommy I'd be his friend but he's gotta get his shit together lmao

Jschlatt - Fuck that guy - bruh, he ruined L'Manburg?? - He drinks too much, not surprised he had a heart attack oof

Glatt - Ghost Schlatt gives me such chaotic evil vibes - I enjoy his presence much more than I enjoy his living presence. - I like the fact that he's kinda useless and can't do anything. It's like going to a zoo to see a creature you wouldn't want to see in the wild

Karl Jacobs - I feel bad that he's losing his memory, he's such a fun character. - I like to hang out with him but he makes me sad and also our friend groups do not vibe with each other oof

Niki Nihachu - She's super sweet and absolutely terrifying. - I love to help her bake and its super fun to try out new recipes with her - People really underestimate her and in return for her help with the baking, I help her train her fighting skills.

Philza - DADZA - I get in trouble with him a lot oof, I like to troll people so it happens quite a bit. Also, I take the blame for a lot of the stuff Techno and I get up to as well as with the bench trio. - He taught me how to sew and crochet so I can make my own clothes. I also build with him whenever he asks for help

Quackity - Scared. - He's rude and evil and I dislike him... gambling bad - I like Charlie and I think he's a good influence on Quackity but tbh I feel the same as Techno in this scenario. I am not a Quackity apologist!

Ranboo - I have the same vibe as him. We are one and the same. - I keep an eye on him during his enderwalks, he worries me sometimes. - Out of everyone in the bench trio, we get along the best. I take care of Michael sometimes when he's out doing Snowchester stuff with Tubbo.

Sapnap - I mean I dislike him a little, he throws off my vibe. - He's on the wrong side of everything imo, just stop being weird, big man... - Also I mean I don't understand why he threatened Dream with torture if he ever escaped. Like you don't have to tell him that, just do it? - We have very similar voices (IRL oh no) and so I'll mess with people by doing my best impression of him

Skeppy - One of the many victims of my trolling (with techno usually) - He's fun to hang out with for a while but I can't handle being around him for too long, he gives me a headache - Sometimes I wonder if he's actually made out of diamonds... should I kill him and see what happens?

Charlie (Slimecicle) - BEST BOY I LOVE HIM - HE'S SO CUTE DAP ME UP - Honestly, we get along soooo well, he reminds me of a slime for some reason, hmmmmmmmm - I try to teach him human-ness because if he doesn't want to look like a slime then there's no reason for me to say no

Technoblade - Ah yes the best one on the SMP - He did not like me at first, I can be a bit annoying oh no - Eventually, he got a soft spot for me since we have the same sense of humour and I love to mess with people - I sympathise with him, he deserves so much more than he's getting. - I wish he didn't express his emotions as anger all the time since it really affects everyone. He's got some anger issues and I try to deal with them with him.

TommyInnit - Omg I still find him annoying but I love to hang out with him like Wilbur does. - He needs to learn some boundaries but he is still a kid, so it doesn't really matter. I think people have to stop being little shits to him since his brain hasn't fully formed, like all adolescents. - He's very sweet sometimes and I appreciate his assistance in a lot of random tasks

Tubbo - I am allergic to bees so we can't hang too much - I like to chill with him and Ranboo and sometimes him and Tommy, but I'm always telling Tommy off for being a little shit to Tubbo. - I do not approve of his governmental ways, but his heart is in the right place. Also, why do you have nukes?

Wilbur Soot - Too much government, I do not approve - not a good father - Eventually, he stopped governmenting so whatever, no more animosity from me, eh?

Ghostbur - Awww he gave me blue - how dare he die twice - I love friend, I walked him sometimes. So glad he has infinite canon lives - I wish he had more time on the SMP, he's super sweet and his vibe is amazing

Revivebur - Alright he's kinda cool, I like his hair. - He doesn't have any governmental plans thank god - He's a bit worrying but he hasn't done anything yet. I'll just keep my eyes on him.

That's it, just doing this for fun! I have a lot of things in the works, don't worry! If you're curious as to what I'm working on, take a look at my masterlist (it's on my page at the top where my asks are) If you do have any asks please give 'em to me, I love to write for you guys :)

THANK YOU FOR 80 FOLLOWERS!

[letsbenditlikebennett]

Wolf, Bat, & Rat || Ariana & Harsh

TIMING: During Sweet Dreams POTW PARTIES: @notsoharsh & @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: Ariana and Harsh run into each other while looking at knives. No wrong assumptions are made and no rat kings show up in the store. 

Humans and their fucking birthdays. Why did they even make such a big deal about them? Well, maybe when they only had about forty of them to look forward too, they were more important. Harsh didn’t care much about his own, he had forgotten when it was some hundred years ago. It didn’t matter. He kept track of the years in a vague sense, but after two hundred had gone by, the precise number was less and less important. The gap between 29 and 30 seemed much bigger than the one between 262 and 263. But Kaden was closer to the former, so he needed some kind of present. Something nice, something he could probably use to kill people. That’s what hunters liked, right? Harsh didn’t really know where to start. He had picked the store at random. Their stuff looked relatively high end, decent knives at least. The door at the bell rang, new customer probably. Harsh let his eyes drift over. Huh, she looked kind of young to be checking out weapons, but… she could be a hunter, they started young. He didn’t pay her much mind, instead keeping his attention focused on the knives lining the wall before him. This would be a lot easier if he had any idea where to start. “I wish these things had better labels,” he said, more to himself than anyone else. 

 If how things were going lately was a sign of anything, Ariana was about 95% sure she was cursed and she was almost positive the mimes had something to do with it. Every time she actually needed to use all the random shit that seemed to be popping up around town lately, it conveniently vanished from her pocket like she was in some sort of nightmare. Sure, she had other assets she could rely on, but she couldn’t just casually turn into a wolf in the middle of town. Or maybe she could. It’s not like she’d be the craziest thing anyone was seeing. There was another man over by the knives, but she mostly minded her business looking over the non-silver knives until she heard him speak. She looked to him with an amused grin on her face and joked, “You mean, you can’t tell what type of metal it is just by looking?” She picked up one of the ones in front of him and ignored the mild irritation from the silver before placing it back down. “Are you looking for something in particular? I’m no expert, but I have a decent enough idea of what I’m looking at.” 

 Oh shit, this kid actually knew something. She probably was a hunter then. Harsh gave the blade another look. It did look kind of silvery. God, he needed to be better about this. He had never really cared about the kind of wood stakes were made out of as long as they weren’t pointed his way. But he should. He flashed her a sheepish smile and shrugged. “They all kind of look the same to me. I go more on the weight and feel. Knives aren’t really my area, I’m looking for a friend. He’s got a birthday coming up and he’s really into all this stuff.” Harsh gestured to the wall, which was almost entirely covered in hunter tools. Really, he should have been more careful walking into this place. They didn’t have a wall for stakes, but he wouldn’t be surprised if there were tons in the back just waiting for slayers to ask. “What about you? Is this where cool kids hang out after school now?” She looked young… ish. He had never been great at guessing human ages even when he was one. She was sort of small, but that could mean anything. Maybe high school? Middle school age? That was probably a weird thing to ask. There weren’t any parents trailing after her waxing on and on about silver and cold iron, so she was probably at least old enough to walk around town without a babysitter. When did they stop babysitting kids now… twelve? Maybe she was twelve. 

 Judging by the lack of knife knowledge, Ariana felt herself relax a bit as she realized this man was decidedly not a hunter. Especially not a werewolf hunter. While her luck with hunters and winning them over was going, odds are the ones shopping for knives would be plenty eager to stab her. Which was something she largely preferred to avoid. She laughed a bit and said, “You’re valid. Do you know what type of knives your friend normally goes for? What does he like besides knives? Some of the engravings really give extra personality.” It dawned on her that Kaden had a birthday coming up pretty soon. She was, after all, nearly done with the final touches on his gift. What were the odds this random guy was friends with Kaden? He looked like he was maybe about Kaden’s age, but it was hard to tell. She’d still probably pick something she knew Kaden would probably like and hoped it wasn’t going to a werewolf hunter who would actually use it on her. Or one of her friends. She refrained from sighing as she picked up another nice looking knife that slightly irritated her skin. The remark about after school made her laugh a bit. “Oh yeah,” she joked, “Knives are the new makeup because why should your looks be the only thing that kill?” 

 Glancing at the selection, Harsh carefully picked up a blade. It was… very shiny. Great. Wait, the label there said silver. That might be good. He cast a glance at the kid. If she was a hunter, she would probably know what he was after as soon as he tried to get specific. “I think he’s a fan of silver or iron. It’s tough, he’s got a lot already, but that’s a good point. Maybe I could get one of these engraved for him. I should get one with stripes, he would hate that,” he said, with a soft laugh as he set the knife back down. Maybe he was going about this all wrong. Kaden had knives, he had weapons. And lately he seemed… less than enthusiastic when they talked about hunting. But what the hell else did hunters need? “You mean killing a guy with eyeliner isn’t enough now? Damn, kids have it rough these days,” he said, shaking his head. He picked up another knife, faintly trying to test the weight of it. It felt even, nice and balanced. That was probably good, even if he wasn’t sure what the hell it was best used on. Maybe he should just get Kaden something he could drink instead. “You here for knives too? Or are you more of a crossbow person?” He glanced at the kid again, she seemed nice enough… probably harmless. Or as harmless as any hunter ever was. If she was one. Hunters really needed to wear nametags or something. 

 This man was clearly going for hunter metals which wasn’t the most comforting thought, until he mentioned the stripes. Ariana grimaced at the thought of stripes and how she had almost been stuck with them. You ghost one mime on Tinder and suddenly they were all out to get you… or maybe they realized she also ate one of them once. Not that it really mattered. “Silver or iron, huh? And stripes… someone who likes silver and iron knives, but hates stripes. Wouldn’t also happen to be grumpy and French, would he?” Was this one of Kaden’s friends? If she helped pick a knife for Kaden, it was a lot less likely to end up in her own side. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but her brow raised in question all the same. She picked up another one of the silver ones despite the minor rash beginning to form on her hands. It had some nicer designs along the handle though she wasn’t sure how much Kaden really cared for aesthetics outside of his hair and pies. The smile that thought started only grew as this man joked around with her. “I know, it’s a tragedy… or maybe not, I’ve never been great with makeup. Knives are a little more straight-forward.” Not as much as teeth and claws, but they did the job. And were a lot less obvious. She handed the knife over the man and made sure to not show her now slightly irritated palm. “Nah, I was actually looking for the candy store,” she said with a smirk before she gave the real answer, “But yeah, never know when you’re gonna get attacked by a mime or some shit in this town. I can throw a hell of a punch, but… better safe than sorry. And yes, I do know how to use a knife. Both for cooking and as a weapon.” She realized they were having a pretty good back and forth, so she added, “I’m Ari, by the way.” 

 French? Harsh blinked. It was a small town after all. A smile snuck onto his face as he nodded. “He is. Although, I think he’s faking, I speak French better than he does. I bet he’s Canadian French,” he said, voice dropping slightly, as if conveying a deep secret. So she knew Kaden. That figured. Well, as far as hunters went, he wasn’t so bad. Huh, the more he looked at this kid, the more she kind of looked like Kaden. Shit, how old was Kaden? If this kid was twelve… Kaden could’ve had a kid young. Humans did that sometimes. Her not being all French was weird, but maybe she grew up here. Shit, why didn’t Kaden ever tell him he had a kid? “Oh yeah, the mimes are a real hazard, gotta keep an eye on them. Y’know, the first time I ever met Kaden, we got attacked by one. Good times.” He took the knife, testing the weight. It seemed fine too. Maybe a little unbalanced. “I’m Harsh, nice to meet you. I don’t think Kaden’s mentioned you before, but I get it. Probably doesn’t want you hanging around his hunting buddies. Do you take after him?” If she was a hunter, she was still dangerous, even if she was just a kid. Maybe her mom was normal though. That would be just like a hunter, train them young even if they don’t get the hunter powers. 

 Making fun of Kaden? Ariana decided she liked this man already. That paired with the fact she could practically hear Kaden cursing in French at the thought of this whole conversation. It brought a devious grin to her face as she agreed, “You know, I always knew his French accent sounded phony. And he does talk about poutine a lot.” Another knife caught her eye as it had a nice leather cover for the blade. She picked it up and it reminded her eerily of one of Celeste’s which probably meant it was good though it wasn’t the most comforting thought. Clearly this guy knew Kaden was a hunter though, why else would he be gifting him knives for his birthday? Still, he didn’t seem ready to use one of the knives on her and didn’t quite have a feel for them so that pointed to the conclusion that he probably couldn’t detect her no matter how many times that fun little paranoid thought popped right on up. “That sounds like the worst first meeting ever, but for Kaden, that doesn’t surprise me. I think we’ve both pissed the mimes off at this point. Talk about silent but deadly.” Then it came, he indicated he was one of Kaden’s hunting buddies and boy was he fucking right. Kaden didn’t want her hanging around his hunting buddies. Probably because a good chunk of them would want to kill her. And wait-- did this Harsh guy just ask if she took after him? Did he think Kaden was her dad or something? How old did he think she was? Actually, this probably wasn’t a bad rouse to keep up. “Nice to meet you, Harsh,” she said brightly, maybe even a little too much so, “You know Kaden, that sounds about right. He can be a little protective. But yeah, you could say that I take after him. We’re both pretty good at taking down beasts… and mimes. What about you?” Way better for this hunter to think she was a beast hunter than a werewolf, right? 

 “Right? He’s definitely just from Quebec.” Kaden was going to hate this. Harsh couldn’t stop grinning. This kid was pretty okay. He had never cared much for kids one way or the other. They weren’t really an option for him personally and a lot of them kinda seemed annoying, but Ari was alright. And she seemed to be buying the hunter thing so far, so that was a big plus. “It wasn’t great. The mime looked just like him. Worst date ever. Uh, not that it was a date. Cause dating Kaden would be gross.” That was close, good save. It hadn’t been a date, not really. Harsh had maybe been angling for that beforehand, but Kaden hadn’t gotten the hint. And it was old news anyway. Plus, his kid probably wouldn’t want to hear about that. Better to move on and just not talk about that. “I’m alright with mimes. I do better with bloodsuckers. Which is why I’m a little lost here with the knives. I usually stick to stakes. And usually it doesn’t matter too much what kind of material those are made out of.” There were a few exceptions to that, as he had learned. This whole ‘fake slayer’ thing took a lot more research than he would have expected. He had to actually sound like he knew what he was talking about. Such a pain. He picked up another knife. Looked like silver too, with a little wolf etched into the hilt. That seemed offensive somehow. Maybe Kaden would like it. “He’s a good guy, I feel like I should get him something nice. But you know him better than me. Do you think he already has enough knives?” He probably did. What else did Kaden like? Maybe something obnoxiously French. Harsh frowned, brow furrowed as he tried to think. It was hard with that soft, weird noise coming from the back of the store. Something was squeaking up a storm back there. He glanced over the counter. “Do you hear something?”

 “Someone better update his Yelp reviews,” Ariana quipped in response. The smile on her face only grew. Even when he wasn’t around, there was something fun about messing with Kaden. It was probably all the French swearing. Then, here eyes widened like saucers when Harsh said the word date. Kaden had gone on a date with this guy? What? It dawned on her she didn’t actually know how long he and Regan had been dating, but it was definitely as long as she had known him. Clarification soon came albeit in a manner that wasn’t the most convincing, but she’d take it at face value. The moon knew she didn’t always say the right fucking thing. “Oh yeah, the fucking mime twins. Those were the worst. I had to e-,” she cut herself off quickly and tried to recover, “Fight my mime twin, too. She wasn’t cute. But hey, Kaden’s not totally gross. He makes good pie. Still mimes are not a fun way to meet.” The last bit came out a bit rushed as she literally almost told a hunter that she ate her mime twin. Ate. Not stabbed or shot. Ate. A very distinctly werewolf thing to do. Good going, Bennett. There was a slightly puzzled look on her face about her knowing Kaden better but she decided to go with it. “He does enjoy a nice knife though I think the wolf may be a little too… not in good taste,” she noted biting back any hint of anger the knife made her feel, “He really likes baking, too. And flannel. I think a knife fits though-- for your friendship with him since you know, hunting buddies. Gifts aren’t so much about what they are as much as they’re about who they remind you of.” A chorus of squeaking caught her off guard and her head whipped over to make out what the sound was as she caught wind of an animal-like smell. “I definitely hear something,” she said as she followed the sound as she heard a scream, “Oh, what the fuck?” Was that… a bunch of rats? That seemed to be morphing into a larger, scarier rat? “Well, I guess it’s a good thing we’re in a knife store,” she said, gripping the knife she had in her hand still as she lunged toward the rat monster.

 Why had he said it like that? In front of Kaden’s fucking kid too. It didn’t matter that Harsh had maybe thought the meeting was a little more than it actually was. That was so far in the past. Kaden was his buddy, against every rational thought and hint of self preservation he had. And now here he was, chatting with his daughter. When the hell had his life turned into some kind of bullshit sitcom? But it probably wasn’t going to have a great season ender if they ever figured out the real reason he could never grab a round of drinks down at the local hunter bar. “Shit, you had one too?” Maybe that was a family thing. “I killed Kaden’s. Which was… kind of horrifying.” Harsh found himself frowning, a little annoyed at how that wasn’t quite a lie. Which was fucking strange. He didn’t actually care about Kaden. That soulless gaping void inside wouldn’t let him. But there was no thrill in the rearview mirror, no rush at the thought of taking out something that even looked like a hunter. Hell, talking to this kid, there was no urge to take the knife in his hand and see if it worked just as well on hunters as it did on wolves. That should be there. But… nothing. The idea was actually… not pleasant if he let it sit there. Weird. He was getting soft in his old age maybe. “Yeah, no on the wolf then,” he said, setting the knife down. “Flannel might be good. You think they have any plaid knives?” The squeaking was getting louder and weirder until the mound of twisting, shrieking rats burst in. Oh. Gross. It figured even the pests couldn’t just be normal here. “Shit--” This kid was definitely a hunter. Someday he would hang out with someone who’s first instinct wasn’t to launch themself at the closest source of horror as soon as it walked into a room. Oh well. Harsh snatched up the blade he had just set down, rushing after Ariana. He slashed, cutting through a few rats twisted up in the growing snarling mass. But some of them were way more than rat sized. One nearly Ariana’s size leapt at her. Harsh moved without thinking, taking a mouth of sharp teeth to the arm. “Fucking rats--we can’t stab all of them. There’s gotta be something--”

 “Yep,” Ariana said matter of factly, “And damn, talk about a first meeting. At least you got rid of his mime.” She was pretty sure Celeste had also encountered Kaden’s mime twin. At least from what she was able to gather from her sister. It was just a relief to be past the point where everyone had their own murderous mime twin out for blood. Stripes and murder looked good on no one. Briefly, her focus shifted back to knives and she laughed at the idea of a plaid one, “A flannel knife, now that’d be unique. Maybe they have a flannel cover for one? Or maybe you just get one engraved to say ‘putain’ along the handle or something.” All talk of knives was gone now as she found herself lunging toward a… pile of rats? Even with her sharp senses, it was hard to get a read on how this rodent mob was moving. Every way it jerked was erratic and had a tendency to take shelves down with it. Great. At least Harsh was following given he was a hunter. A hunter and a werewolf could definitely take on a bunch of rats magically tied together, right? As a rat leapt toward her, she found Harsh intervening and her grip on the knife in her hand tightened. They seemed to move together with purpose, but so chaotically she couldn’t keep up with their next move. She took a step back, kicking one on her way for good measure, “I mean, we could stab all of them, we just might also end up scratched to all hell,” she said incredulously, “I’ve never seen something like this before, but maybe, I know Kaden used fire on a hedgehound before. Since there’s so many, it may be more effective than, well, sta- Ow!” Apparently the rats didn’t like her idea and were nipping at her ankle. The one time she didn’t wear high topped boots. She lifted her foot up to stomp on the ones at her foot, “Fuck off you stupid rat,” she grumbled as she refrained from letting out a more animalistic sound. A wolf was not about to be taken down by a bunch of rats. She was a wolf, for fuck’s sake. For good measure, she kept her knife drawn. “You got a lighter? I’ve got some spray deodorant in my backpack if the- I swear on Post Malone’s life if you don’t stop trying to bite my feet I’m going to turn this joint into a rat barbecue.” 

 It was probably better to leave out the part where a second weird mim Kaden had walked in the door just after the last one was dispatched. That made him sound a whole lot cooler anyway. If there was a way to be cool when fighting some kind of horrifying mime clone. Harsh certainly hadn’t felt cool at the time. He also very much did not feel cool now. The rat that had sunk its teeth into him was a persistent little fucker, taking at least three sharp stabs before it finally let go and dropped to the floor. Jerking back, he kept the knife in front of him slashing at any of the vermin that tried to leap at them. “Yeah, I’d like to look for a plan B. There’s too many of these fucking things.” Should he be swearing in front of her? Whatever, Kaden cursed like a French sailor, he probably wouldn’t care. So not the time to worry about that crap. Kids seemed more desensitized to that now anyway. She probably heard a lot worse at school. “Fire? That could work. Hang on.” As luck would have it, he did have a lighter on him. Harsh didn’t smoke much, not breathing made it sort of hard, but it never hurt to have a light and a few extra smokes on him just in case. Plus, it made him look cool. Aesthetic was important, even if he couldn’t see himself in the mirror. He fumbled at his jacket pockets, finding the lighter and pulling it free. “Here, this should work.” Even as he said it, he couldn’t stop glancing around, looking for something bigger than a knife. There was an axe on the far wall. It probably wouldn’t do much more than the blades, but maybe they could hack the mass of rats apart if the fire didn’t take care of them first. 

 Anyone else visiting the shop had long since cleared out. Ariana could hardly blame them. She would much rather be far away from whatever the fuck his rat atrocity was. It was hard to keep track of its movements as tails, claws, and fur scurried around her. Which was bullshit. A pile of rats attacking a wolf. While Ariana didn’t necessarily consider herself to be inherently better than others, it really wasn’t too much to ask that rodents and produce knew their place in the food chain. It took a concentrated effort to keep her claws in place and not accidentally go a little wolf-y in front of this hunter guy who thought she was a hunter. At least she could still stab the little shits and she did as they lunged toward her again. “Too many is an understatement,” she grumbled as she just barely dodged more tiny yet surprisingly fucking sharp teeth. “Hanging on here but quicker we get some fire the better,” she said as she kept swatting at rats with her knife. Once the lighter was out, she grabbed it and directed, “Watch my back for a minute.” She fumbled around in her backpack momentarily before pulling out the spray can filled with deodorant she had on her for rainy days. Here goes nothing. She held the lighter up far away from her and carefully aimed the spray nozzle toward the slew of rats charging her. “Harsh, keep your distance,” she said quickly and confidently before she pressed down on the spray nozzle causing a large frame to hit the rats… And singed her fingers, but that hardly mattered. A storm of squeaks erupted through the shop followed closely by the pungent smell of burning rats. She stood her ground and tried to concentrate the flame toward the rats, but some of the fliers and carpet were decidedly also toast. Literally. It didn’t take too long for the squeaks to fade and the rats to turn to ash. She turned to Harsh as she let out a sigh. “Something tells me we should probably ditch the scene before cops and firefighters get here.” 

Of course a hunter kid would know how to make a homemade flamethrower. Not that Harsh was complaining. Hell, he should have been taking notes. He ducked back, staying well clear of the flames. They did the trick, quieting the squeaking a little gruesomely. If he were human, the smell of burning rats probably would’ve turned his stomach. Grimacing at the pile of ash, he nodded. “Yeah, don’t really want to stick around to explain this. C’mon, lets head out the back.. Less questions that way,” he said, already making for the door. It looked like whoever was supposed to be running the store had headed out when the rats made their way in, leaving the back door wide open. Either that or… maybe the rats ate them. Probably better not to think about it. He shot Ariana a grin. “It was cool meeting you. I’ll see you around, yeah? Hopefully… with less killer rat piles next time.”

[gayflagblog]

Plain Flag Poll Response Breakdown

This post is a breakdown of the data collected in the Plain Flag Poll [linked here] as of 5/5/2021. For the breakdown of the Symbol Flag Poll data please click here. Because I am concerned about the readmore breaking and the length of this post, it will not be put into the main tags.

All images are transcribed. (This post may be reblogged with additional data when more unique responses are collected, you’ll be able to see this in the notes)

Poll Info: Participants were asked to pick which flag from each “category” of proposal/variant they felt the most connected to, or which was simply their “favorite”. If they wanted to, they were also given an optional question in which to explain their choice from the previous section. At the end of the poll, participants were asked to pick a flag out of the overall selection based on the previous criteria (connection/favorite) and, optionally, explain their choice.

Overall, 54 unique responses were recorded.

Question #1

[ Image Description: A pie chart is shown. The question at the top is “Out of the ‘Original’ flag proposals, which is your favorite/which do feel the most connection to?”. The response data is 43.4% for “5-stripe simplified”, 39.6% for “Original”, 15.1% for “6-stripe simplified #2″, and 1.9% for “6-stripe Simplified #1″. ]

Participants who choose to explain their selection in Question 1b. responded with the following.

Participants who selected 5-stripe simplified (10 participants did not respond)

"easy to remember”

“simple with good color contrast, easy to replicate“

“I like that the teal/green and blue each have 2 stripes instead if one having more than other other. The original just feels like too many stripes”

“Most aesthetically pleasing and personal connection due to using it!“

“it's a good amount of stripes IMO. not too little, not too many. plus, it's an uneven number, so it feels symmetrical, too.“

“White is centered, more eye-catching contrast.“

“I prefer 5 stripe flags, I like the symmetry, 5 stripe is easier to draw, easier to make merch in, simpler, bolder, looks nicer to me. i also like to put the trans flag and other flags side by side and so it's nice for me when they have the same stripe number.”

“aesthetically it matches the trans flag with the 2 stripes above and below the white trans line and makes it look nice when used with the trans flag“

“There’s less stripes which stops the colours blending together in my eyes.“

“I generally prefer more compact flags. they're easier to replicate irl, like on merchandise, and are better for icons and edits online.“

“I think a part of pride flags should be simplicity and reproducibility. Too many stripes might be difficult to remember and reproduce.“

“I like either the original or the 5 stripe simplified; slightly prefer the 5 stripe simplified because it's more "readable" if that makes sense. Like if I was describing it I could say Its a flag made of ‘dark green, light green, white, light blue, and dark blue stripes’ vs ‘dark green... medium(?) green, lighter green...’.”

“I think this version is easier to be made in large scale.“

Participants who selected Original (10 participants did not respond)

“I think the symmetrical ones with the white stripe in the middle look most aesthetically pleasing!”

“I like the 7 stripe best, but the 5 stripe is good too. I don't like the 6 stripe designs because they are unbalanced“

“I love the mirroring and balance, as well as the fact it reminds me of old leather and bear flags. plus I kinda hate that there are so many five stripe flags, it feels like they’re all mirroring the trans flag. the five stripe ones are really abrupt in colour change as well, and having more than five stripes really sets this flag apart. other five stripe variant flags were rooted in art theft, so using this five stripe might encourage use of the others, which upsets me. I also like that it’s similar to the lesbian flag; like two sides of a coin!“

“I really like the original and also the blue/purple six stripe!! I just really love the blue on it and also odd numbers make me really happy so the 7 stripes just feel right to me.”

“absolutely hate asymmetry so definitely neither of the 6 stripe simplified flags. The 5 stripe simplified doesn't have enough / the right colors to convey the same thing the original does. The 5 stripe is duller and more shallow somehow.“

“I think the original is the best out of these, but I think the 6-stripe simplified (more green/teal) could work if you were able to keep the light blue stripe somehow, since i liked the symbolism of the light blue to purple transition but the top stripes in the 6-stripe simplified (more blue/purple) don't look too good. i think the white stripe is better as the 4th stripe not the 3rd.“

“I like the colour variation“

“I like the evenness, and I just like the look of the thinner stripes on the original in contrast to the 5 stripe simplified.”

“I feel it to be the most coherent and aesthetically pleasing.”

“I use both the original and the 5 striped version but I have a physical version of the original and I love being able to show the meaning behind the stripes“

“I feel a connection with the colors and I like the transition they make into white. I chose the original, but my second option would be the second 6-stripe version because it's more different to the lesbian flag and I feel less connected to the blue parts (not purple).“

Participants who selected 6-stripe simplified #2 [more green/teal] (3 participants did not respond)

"IMO the 6-stripe flags are much better to use to differentiate from the lesbian flag and to match other gay mlm flags (autistic gay, she/her gay, etc).”

“I prefer the 6 striped flag because then the flag doesn’t “look like a hue shifted lesbian flag” like so many people claim it to be. -J“

“I think it eliminates the "it's a recolor of the lesbian flag" argument as there is a stripe number difference, plus the placement of the white stripe looks more "pleasing" there !“

“I think the colors on the version with more green/teal are my favorite out of all of them, although i love them all! I like the greens.”

The one Participant who selected 6-stripe Simplified #1 [more blue/purple] did not respond.

Question #2

[ Image Description: A pie chart is shown. The question at the top is “Out of the ‘Warm’ flag proposals, which is your favorite/which do feel the most connection to? (proposal credit @undeadedits)”. The response data is 41.5% for “Warm Original”, 37.7% for “Warm 5-stripe Simplified”, 13.2% for “Warm 6-stripe Simplified #2 (More Teal)”, and 7.5% for “Warm 6-stripe Simplified #1 (More Purple)”. ]

Participants who choose to explain their selection in Question 2b. responded with the following.

Participants who selected Warm Original (17 participants did not respond)

“the greens and purples are really nice, plus same reasons above“ (see Q1, Response #3 of “Participants who selected Original”, shown above)

“same reason as above“ (see Q1, Response #5 of “Participants who selected Original”, shown above)

“Similar answer to before, though I do also like the 6 stripe simplified with more purple, as it makes the blue toned colours look nice. “ (see Q1, Response #8 of “Participants who selected Original”, shown above)

“honestly i just really like the Vibes this one gives off. :)“

“For the same reasons as before. I also prefer the warm versions of the flag because they make the purple more obvious.“ (see Q1, Response #11 of “Participants who selected Original”, shown above)

Participants who selected Warm 5-stripe Simplified (13 participants did not respond)

"I feel the 6-stripes original has a more solemn vibe and the mid-color gives a better blending feel. For the warm, the 5-stripes simplicity actually helps giving that softer vibe, and it helps the aesthetic.”

“simple to remember but this time better because it is warm :)“

“Most aesthetically pleasing- other options are too busy in my opinion“

“same reason as above“ (see Q1, Response #8 of “5-stripe simplified”, shown above)

"Same as the other flag. Less stripes better.” (see Q1, Response #9 of “5-stripe simplified”, shown above)

"For the same reasons.” (see Q1, Response #11 of “5-stripe simplified”, shown above)

"I think this version is easier to be made in large scale.”

Participants who selected Warm 6-stripe Simplified #2 [More Teal] (4 participants did not respond)

"I dunno what draws me to the 4th option, but it just feels right to me. I think it fits :)”

(repeat of Q1, Response #1 of “6-stripe simplified #2″, shown above)

“Same as 1b, plus I also prefer the darker blue and three greens to the darker green and three blues cuz it feels more equal?? As if the white is a reeeeeaaaaally light blue. -J“

The 4 Participants who selected Warm 6-stripe #1 [More Purple], did not respond.

Question #3

[ Image Description: A pie chart is shown. The question at the top is “Out of the ‘Philadelphia’ flag proposals, which is your favorite/which do feel the most connection to?”. The response data is 24.5% for ‘Warm 5-stripe Philadelphia’, 22.6% for ‘Original Philadelphia ‘, 20.8% for ‘5-stripe Philadelphia’, 15.1% for ‘Warm Original Philadelphia’, 9.4% for ‘Alternative Original Philadelphia’, and 7.5% for ‘Alternative 5-stripe Philadelphia’. ]

Participants who choose to explain their selection in Question 3b. responded with the following.

Participants who selected Warm 5-stripe Philadelphia (8 participants did not respond)

"again it's simple/easy to remember and also warm colours >>>”

“Most aesthetically pleasing (but not a POC so my opinion carries no weight!)“

“again I hate asymmetry but the black and brown stripes look really really awkward when separated. the reason I chose the warm one is because it makes the color contrast easier on the eyes.“

“I prefer the brown stripes to the philly flag's black and brown stripes since the black stripe originally represented victory over aids, and tbh, the colors are much more appealing. as for stripe count, it's pretty much the same as above. the expanded flags are especially cumbersome when you add the two extra stripes on top.“

“I feel more connected to the warm flags and I think that 9 stripes are maybe too many.“

Participants who selected Original Philadelphia (10 participants did not respond)

“I’m not a fan of Philadelphia flags in general (I'm not in the US and it isn’t used in my country), but the original variant keeps the stripes in line with other Philadelphia designs. black stripe still might be an oof bc of the aids flag black stripe, but that’s not well known anyway”

“I think the original one with the inclusive stripes on top just feels much better. I like seeing the inclusive stripes on the top in their original colors, without any tints, so this one happens to be my favorite and I would definitely buy it.”

Participants who selected 5-stripe Philadelphia (7 participants did not respond)

"The original 5 stripe is my favorite of the flags, and adding two more stripes really makes the original flag look like a barcode haha”

“It's the most visually appealing, and easiest to look at, plus it mimics the original Philly Pride Flag in having the black and brown stripes before the regular stripes.“

“This version has the black and brown stripes at the top, which matches with the idea of black visibility and black representation.“

“For the same reasons, even tho there are more stripes, it's just the 5-stripes version (easy to remember) plus the two stripes for black and brown communities.“ (see Q1, Response #11 of “5-stripe simplified”, shown above)

Participants who selected Warm Original Philadelphia (5 participants did not respond)

“The warmer browns go better with the overall tones I think”

“I don't really think I have an input since I'm white, but I just find it the most visually appealing“

“The warm allows the colours to blend more cohesively, where the original seems to contrast in an awkward way.”

Participants who selected Alternative Original Philadelphia (3 participants did not respond)

“The alt design of the “Philadelphia” flag feel more equal and less of being added on. -J“

“I just think it looks cool! the original Philadelphia is also really good.“

Participants who selected Alternative 5-stripe Philadelphia (3 participants did not respond)

“I like symmetry. i don't think my opinion matters much here bc I'm not BIPOC“

Question #4

[ Image Description: A pie chart is shown. The question at the top is “Out of the ‘Pink’ flag proposals, which is your favorite/which do feel the most connection to? (proposal credit @IanBlazquez)”. The response data is 62.3% for ‘Pink/Purple 5-stripe’ and 37.7% for Pink/Purple Original. ]

Participants who choose to explain their selection in Question 4b. responded with the following.

Participants who selected Pink/Purple 5-stripe (23 participants did not respond

“I think you see the trend it's easier to remember the layout of and stuff”

“I think all the 5 stripe flags look better than the 7+ ones as they're simpler and easier to look at“

“the 5 stripe simplified pretty much conveys the same thing as the original so i don't have much of a preference beyond it being simpler so it's a lot easier to process.“

“again, i like less stripes. don't like either of them very much though“

“same reason as above.“ (see Q1, Response #8 of “5-stripe simplified”, shown above)

“For the same reasons, even tho I'm not a fan of this design overall, it reminds me too much a reversed genderqueer flag (if that's the purpose, I'm sorry and I understand it).“ (see Q1, Response #11 of “5-stripe simplified”, shown above)

“I don't really like these but the 5 stripe is better“

“I think this version is easier to be made in large scale.“

“I think the pink/purple original might feel a little too similar to the lesbian pride flag, which people have felt uncomfortable with/ complained about before. so I would prefer the five stripe design for this one.“

“It is simpler and easier to reproduce.“

Participants who selected Pink/Purple Original (15 participants did not respond)

“I like the more carnation-y green, but this one is a bit eye-strain-y tbh”

“I don't have too much of a connection of either of them (they look a bit similar to the genderqueer flag IMO), but I have a slight preference for the seven-stripe one.“

“once again, odd numbers.... I think this is so pretty!!“

“While I would love a six striped flag (reasoning for this on 1b), I adore the seven striped flag. It almost feels more inclusive in a way, I guess? -J“

“Similar response to the previous Original type flags, nice thin stripes.”

Question #5

[ Image Description: A pie chart is shown. The question at the top is “Out of all of the above, which is your favorite/which do feel the most connection to?”. The response data is 28.3% for ‘5-stripe Simplified’, 26.4% for ‘Original Draft Proposal’, 17% for ‘Warm Original’, 9.4% for ‘Warm 5-stripe Simplified’, 7.5% for ‘6-stripe Simplified #2 (more green/teal)’, and 1.9% for ‘Warm 6-stripe Simplified #2 (More Teal)’, ‘5-stripe Philadelphia’, ‘Pink/Purple Original’, and ‘Warm 6-stripe Simplified #1 (More Purple)’. ]

Participants who choose to explain their selection in Question 4b. responded with the following.

Participants who selected 5-stripe Simplified (9 participants did not respond)

"I like the 5-stripe simplified one best as I feel it's the most aesthetically pleasing, and I feel its colours represent the gay community best out of all of them. I've also used it for a while so I feel a strong connection to it! <3″

“good amount of stripes + the color scheme that I'm most familiar with“

“same reason as above“ (see Q1, Response #8 of “5-stripe simplified”, shown above)

“I actually really like Ian's 5-stripe pink/purple iteration of the flag. the colors are pleasing and I like that there's a bit more variation in the stripes, but the pink triangle being part of the symbolism for the pink stripe makes me feel kinda weird. Jewish LGBT people have repeatedly expressed discomfort with gentiles using/claiming the pink triangle since it's holocaust imagery. I do like pink as a stripe color overall, though. it's just that point that makes me unwilling to use that particular design. I do think, overall, that i prefer the cool colors of the original design, and I'm a big fan of the symbolism there.“

“Definitely easy to reproduce, simple and relatable. Love it.“

“The less colours in a flag for me the better; It's easy to recognize among all the others! I would also add that I really like a version of the flag that uses the colours of the original without the darkest purple and green.“

Participants who selected Original Draft Proposal (10 participants did not respond)

“myself one as soon as pridenation started selling them, and it makes me feel really represented and appreciated when I see this flag anywhere. thank you for making it. “

“the original one just really captures my attention :)“

“It's the prettiest I guess? second choice would be the warm version of the original because it's a lot more purple which is nice.“

“Seeing this flag finally made me feel like I had my own flag! The original was the first one I saw, and I became attached to it. I tend to see the rainbow as an all encompassing flag for the LGBTQ, in contrast to people tending to see the rainbow as only for gay men.“

Participants who selected Warm Original (7 participants did not respond)

“As a gay man, I would probably use the warmer flags. They strike me as more friendly without straying too far from the more recognized variant. I'm also biased because, well, I'm a lowkey twink, and I like the pinkish undertones. Personally, I'm against any flag that looks unbalanced, where the white stripe seems "off". My second choice would be the pink & purple one. The history of the color pink is incredibly important.”

“I prefer the warm colors because they emphasize the purple and I feel more connection to purple than to blue. I also like the structure of the original flag.”

Participants who selected Warm 5-stripe Simplified (4 participants did not respond)

“it is just simply better idk”

Participants who selected 6-stripe Simplified #2 [more green/teal] (2 participants did not respond)

“IMO the 6-stripe flags are much better to use to differentiate from the lesbian flag and to match other gay mlm flags (autistic gay, she/her gay, etc).”

“if the six-stripe simplified flag with the philly stripes were an option i would totally pick it, otherwise this one is my absolute favorite. it feels much more like its own flag and I really just appreciate the composition of the colors and stripes more.“

Participants who selected Warm 6-stripe Simplified #2 (More Teal)

“it makes the purple more apparent.”

Participants who selected 5-stripe Philadelphia

“I rather those shades of blue than the purple ones and I think it's important to add visibility to black and brown people.”

Participants who selected Pink/Purple Original

“I like the pink/purple flag because it makes it feel less of the stereotypical blue masculinity for men. Purple especially is nice because it can be both pinkish (“feminine”) and blueish (“masculine”). I’m GNC and I love when I’m able to show that and be represented in such, even with a shade of color! -J”

Participants who selected Warm 6-stripe Simplified #1 (More Purple), 6-stripe Simplified #1 (More Blue/Purple), and Warm 6-stripe Simplified #1 (More Purple) did not respond.

Conclusion

Participants who responded showed an interest in

Reproducibility of a flag/ability to easily make physical flags

An “easy to remember” and “easy to recognize” flag

Flag aesthetics/personal color preference

Number, symmetry, and size/thickness of flag stripes

Personal connection, feeling represented by the flag

Ability to connect and show the flag alongside other pride flags (e.g. the trans flag)

Many participants expressed that they used multiple flags.

[ If you’re wondering why I’m not sharing or linking the poll spreadsheet, this is because personal emails are collected by Google Polls from each participant as they respond and I don’t want to make these public. I apologize if any numbers are slightly off. Some participant’s responses were un-censored for the sake of screenreaders. ]

[love-kazin]

Friends?

Genre: friends to lovers; smut.

Pairing: Park Jinwoo/Jinjin x reader (gender neutral).

Warnings: mature content, cursing, smut. 

Word count: 2.246.

REQUESTED.

You started to crush on your newest friend, Jinwoo. You didn’t knew it was mutual, until his lips revealed it to you. 

-x-

For a certain amount of time, you only heard about this guy named Jinwoo. He worked with music production on some specific theather apresentations of your friend Myungjun, and they took some time to become friends, but as soon as they did, Myungjun talked a lot about him. Jinwoo seemed a nice guy, hardworking and passionate about his career, but also caring with people around him. Sometimes seemed that Myungjun was trying to convince you to check him out in a good way. But you didn't knew the man. Like, in person. Until that hot day a few years ago when Myungjun almost dragged you out from your house to go to the ice cream shop. "Why are we here if we're not getting ice cream?" "We will, in a moment. We're waiting." "For what, exactly?" "Jinjin." You were kinda shocked, to be honest. Not that you wanted to impress a guy that you didn't knew, but you thought that no one would join on that saturday evening, so the thin shirt and the denim shorts looked ok. But when Jinwoo arrived, looking nicer than the whole aesthetic ice cream shop, you were feeling kinda inappropriate. "Oh, hello, you must be the famous friend of MJ." "Famous?" "He talks about you all the time." You blushed and looked in surprise to them. Myungjun only smiled cheekily and left to buy the ice creams. "He talks a lot about you too, but it's nice to finally give a face to your name." "I could say the same. I should say that it's kinda weird because it sounds like he was really anticipating our meeting, but never giving a date to it." "Exactly my thought." And with that, it was really easy to become friends with Jinwoo. He seemed a little more serious than Myungjun, but as the time passed, you noticed that they weren't that different. Jinwoo, or Jinjin for you too, started to be around you and Myungjun a lot of times. It reminded you of the three musketeers. It became so usual to be with him, that sometimes Myungjun wasn't even present, but it was comfortable to be alone with Jinjin. It was different, though. Not that MJ was ugly or anything. You praised your friend almost everyday because he's certainly one of the prettiest living things that you've ever saw. But Jinjin was... attractive. The kind of guy you would like to kiss, and Myungjun was too much your friend to be in thoughts like that. So when Myungjun texted saying that we needed to be in the rehearsal for the next show, you got a little nervous. And in that exact moment, Jinjin ringed the bell. "What happened?" The now blonde man, dressed in white and beige clothes, looked confused after the door opened. "Myungjun said he can't join us tonight. Rehearsal time." "Oh, got it. You don't need to be sad, though. Is it bad to spent the night with me?" Not that he meant in THAT way, but your thoughts ran to a specific scenery that shouldn't. "Of course not." He couldn't see the blush in your face since you had turned around, but he could sense the trembling voice. "Good! Because I came prepared." "What?" When people says this kind of thing, it usually means something sexual. Of course Jinwoo knew that, and said intentionally. When you turned again to face him, he offered you the bag from the grocery shop you used to go. "I meant the junk food. What were you thinking?" Choosing not to answer that, the need of blankets and pillows worked as a good excuse. Spending more than necessary time in the closet picking up the materials, your mind started to wander about those recent fantasies involving Jinwoo. He couldn't see you in that way too. Even flirting with you sometimes didn't make a good reason for him to be into you, so you shouldn't be nervous. He was probably messing around because he's a teaser. With that in mind, you texted Myungjun quickly. "Did Jinjin ever said to you something about me?" "He talks about you very often. Why?" "But is it good?" "I don't think he's ever talked about something bad. I mean, he adores you. So..." "What do you mean?" "You should figure it out yourself." That didn't helped. And neither the way Jinwoo smiled at you and tapped the couch for you to join him. The movie was about to start. "What's the story about the movie?" "I actually don't know. It said that it's one of the most watched movies recently, so I thought it'd be nice." Agreeing, you opened the blankets and covered the both of you, giving him extra pillows and adjusting yours too. Not that you needed, since in a short time, you both were almost glued to each other. He smelled like a mix of herbal and citric, and it was almost a torture to be attached to him but not snuggling into his neck. "Are you comfy like that? Does your back hurt?" Using that as an excuse to approach even more, you put his arm around your neck, and laid your head into his shoulder. "That's better, thank you." He didn't said anything, but tensed up after the first time your breath hit his neck. Through the first half of the movie, you stayed like that. Until a love scene started to appear in the screen. It wasn't like you both weren't adults and knew what was sex, and the scene wasn't too explicit either, but he seemed even more tense, and your eyes wandered from the crook of his neck til' the chest tattoo appearing a little from his shirt. Noticing the sudden heavier breath, he looked at your face. The silence was filled with words non said. His eyes questioning your breath, your eyes questioning why his lips weren't on yours already. A high pitched moan was heard and his cheeks turned into red ones. "I don't think we should be watching this." He paused the movie, and you chuckled awkwardly. "Do you want some ice cream? I know it's a little cold, but..." "It's always a yes for ice cream." Yet he didn't moved from the couch. "And for me?" "I don't get it." "Would you say yes for me, someday?" Your eyes filled with confusion, until his moved to your lips. "What do you mean, Jinwoo?" His eyes screamed his feelings, but his mouth didn't made any sound. So filling the silence, he attached his lips to yours, finally tasting what he had been wanting for some months. His hand caressed your jaw, stopping on your chin, deepening the kiss showing how much of a needy guy he was for you. Breaking the contact but not really wanting to, the question couldn't be hidden anymore. "Since... when?" "Remember that picnic we made, that you shoved a whole slice of watermelon in your mouth, without really caring about people watching the scene?" "What?" "It's just... The things you do. The person you are. I've been falling and I can't stop." Jinwoo's eyes were filled with sincerity. He was genuinely enchanted, and you couldn't help the smile from ear to ear. "I thought it wasn't mutual." "Wait, what? Do you like me?" Nodding, you replied with a "very much" and attached your lips once again. The smile made it difficult to properly kiss for a time, but it stopped when his fingers danced in your thigh. When you felt your back hit the soft pillows in the couch, the movie was already forgot. Jinwoo's body hovered yours like ocean waves hitting rocks in a sunny day, making his impact but refreshing. It was a new sensation, and it was good how he touched you simply, adoring every inch being discovered. His tattoos were visible in no time, since you finally took of his shirt. "I had a thought you'd look good, but I wasn't prepared for this good..." Jinwoo was a blushy mess on top of you, mind going blank as a new canvas. So he took his lips to your clavicle, hiding his face e showing you how he appreciate you. And he was doing a excellent job. "Can I?" Holding the hem of your shirt, he looked at you with pleaded eyes, so you just lift yourself enough for him to take off that dark green piece and being pleased with the view. You could see him gulping, and it made you a little nervous. "Are you sure you want to keep this going? We've just confessed and it might be a little strange to go forward now, but I need to ask because I'm going crazy here... If you don't want it, I'll stop." "Jinwoo... The only thing I want is you." His eyes darkened at the same speed his hands went to remove your pants. You didn't took too much time to remove his pants, giggling at how your underwear matched with his, all white. "Seems like we combine very well." Smiling at his angelic figure, you turned your positions, so you were sitting on his lap, his head diving into your chest hardening your nipples with those wet lips, making you roll hips and whimper for more. Jinwoo's strong hands held your waist marking a little, helping with the movements, groaning and kissing the way up to your lips once again. Your left hand pulled his hair at the time the right hand grabbed his dick to stroke lightly. Those sinful eyes burning your soul and the smirk on the plump lips made you more yet, which he thought it was very nice, since he was just starting to touch you down there. "Do I make you feel good?" "Yes... but I think you can make it even better." Getting the idea, he fumbled with you in his lap searching for his pants, pulling a condom from the wallet, which was beside a small picture of you. "Why do you have a picture of me with a condom on the side?" "I swear it's not what you're thinking." Chuckling at his red cheeks and the state you both were, you just let it go. Specially because he touched you right on point to make you forget about anything else. "I don't wanna wait anymore. Let me feel you." He hummed against your neck, using the time you got up to remove the final piece of clothing to roll the condom on himself. You guided his hard cock to your entrance, looking at his eyes while you felt every inch of him taking you slowly, feeling like heaven. Jinwoo left sloppy kisses in every part of you he could while you bounced on his shaft, in part trying to control his noises, but also because once he tasted you, he couldn't stop it. His fingers marked your butt when you stopped bouncing to rolling your hips while clenching around dick. "If you keep going like this, I won't last long." "Is it good?" "It's fucking amazing. You feel like paradise." His praise held your ego almost up there, but you couldn't simply stop to give it all to him. It was too good to not be overwhelmed. "You can hit this spot all the time." Your smirk made him feel like he hit the jackpot. He couldn't understand how it happened, but he was feeling lucky you came into his life. "I will make you feel good in every one of them." He put you laid on the couch, with your back facing the cold air, but being hot in no time since he hovered you again. Lifting up your hips so he could enter you, you barely had time to think because he was slamming hard against your center, making you scream for the first time in the night. One of his hands grabbed a fist of your hair, the other one held your waist strongly, and his body attached to yours, making you drown in the atmosphere rolling your eyes with his praises and sweet nothings lingering on your ears. It was almost suffocating how much of Jinwoo was around you, but you'd gladly losing your breath. "Oh, shit... Right there, Jinwoo. Don't stop..." "Do you like this, babe? Do you want me to go harder?" The way that "babe" sounded gave you chills. He felt how you trembled and clenched around him. "Please... Fuck me." Jinwoo was more than pleasured to hear that, so he gave his best to you. His all for you. The sound of your bodies slamming into each other completing your moans and his groans was more than obscene, and you could be thanking any force of the universe for living that moment, if it wasn't for the hottest guy above you making you see stars in front of your eyes. He didn't came too long after you, shivering when he left to throw the condom in the garbage. "May I tell you something?" Jinwoo said while laying on top of you once again, but now attaching the front part of your bodies. You just hummed agreeing and holding him closer. "You look great all the time, but you look specially good all fucked out." You opened your eyes only to see his expression of admiration, and chuckled with his compliment. "Well, I guess is good that you like it, since you'll be seeing this constantly." "I'm the luckiest guy, for sure."

[silence-burns]

Please Hate Me //part 27

Fandom: Marvel 

Summary:  Based on “Imagine having a love/hate relationship with Loki.” by @thefandomimagine​

Loki dipped a soft brush in the powder again, using it with deadly precision. 

"It's going to take you a week," you noticed while painting the nails on his other hand. 

"It will be a week well-spent then," he said, barely moving his lips. He had nice cheekbones, but they could always look nicer.

"Only if you use more glitter. You promised." 

"The silly bet you insisted on only covered the part of using 'some' glitter. There was no word specifying the amount or placement." 

You looked at your work. Loki had really nice hands, and the deep green polish you found seemed to be a perfect choice. You were sure it would match the suit he chose from the seemingly bottomless (and actually enchanted) bag that now laid near the bed in your room. If only, of course, he would hurry up and put it on. 

He must've noticed your impatience in the mirror. You were sitting on the edge of the bathtub in the tiny confines of your bathroom, and it would be very hard for Loki not to see you from so close. 

"We'd have more time if I didn't have to fix your face first." He pointed the brush at you accusingly. 

"My face was just fine." 

"Except for that marvelous bruise on your jaw. And that scratch on your brow. We surely wouldn't raise any questions if we went there looking beat up." 

"I told you the glitter would fix it and it did." You appraised your looks in the mirror, pushing Loki away. "The more glitter the better."

"It's not—" 

"The best time for glitter is everyday and the second best time is now! Embrace that simple truth, you coward." 

"...that literally makes no sense."

But he'd rather run his throat dry than successfully explain that to you, so Loki didn't bother. Besides, surprisingly, he wasn't as frustrated as he would usually get at this point. 

The hand wielding the brush stilled for a moment. It was a shame his mind didn't, and instead jumped to a few very far-fetched conclusions and realisations that hit him like a punch to the gut. 

Sure, he had spent a lot of time with you lately, and it actually wasn't that bad and he enjoyed quite a few moments, but to think that, maybe, just maybe, there was a tiny, unthinkable possibility that he… 

A sense of dread filled him, and a shiver ran down his spine. 

Nope. 

He'd think about that some other time. Right now, he had to look his absolute best, and that was something worth focusing his whole attention on. 

With a sigh you didn't know the source of, he put down the brush you 'borrowed' along with a few other handy items. He had no idea what the fake face the filthy enchantment put on him looked like, but the one he was seeing in the mirror was absolutely marvelous. Loki carefully combed through his hair, noticing a few glittering speckles that he was sure weren't there just moments ago. 

He sent you a knowing glare, but it didn't seem to work. He must've fallen out of practice. 

"You're really good at all that," you gestured to the cosmetics. "There's no sign I got my ass beaten only a few days ago." 

"Of course I am,” He said. "You have no idea how many times it has saved me from trouble." 

"Oh, do tell," you grinned, fanning your hand over his drying polish. 

"Let's just say that trying to convince a few unfriendly beasts being held at the stables to have a good time in the gardens where a feast was being held was definitely worth it."

You looked at the brushes and pencils. "I don't see the connection." 

"Altering your appearance through magic can be detected. But changing your features temporarily using means that can be wiped clean in a few seconds—well, that's a different story." 

Loki smiled a little at the distant memory. He remembered the feast very well, as he did the warrior whose name it was being held for. Said warrior was often posted with other guards near the central area of the palace, and he made it very hard to sneak around undetected. Some of the other guards, especially the older ones, at least pretended to look the other way, but he never did. 

Your laugh warmed something in him, but Loki didn't dwell on the feeling. After all, there was a party to crash. 

"How is the boy faring?" he asked while changing a few minutes later. 

"Busy," you said, waiting on your bed. "He's really into that project. I'm pretty sure he wants to impress MJ and that's why he's so… restless. I hope it all goes well."

"Will he be joining us tonight?" 

"No, he wouldn't pass—he's too young, remember? And besides, he'll probably be spending the evening working out the details of his project. He told you that at dinner, didn’t you listen?" 

"My bad."

Loki didn't sound guilty. You weren’t surprised. Still, if he didn't care at all about Peter, he wouldn't ask about him. Someone seemed to be growing a soft spot. 

"Just to make sure," you said, fixing your shoes. "You do remember you have to act like a human for a while? We have to blend into the crowd." 

"Oh dear," Loki opened the bathroom door dramatically. "I shouldn't have showered then." 

You ignored the sarcasm and whistled as you appraised his look. Asshole or not, Loki knew how to dress up. 

"Don't say a word and keep on looking like this and we actually stand a chance of not getting thrown out after five minutes." 

Loki huffed, whipping his hair over his shoulder with a practiced gesture. "I'm a delight. They should be grateful I laid my eyes on that rathole at all."

"I'm sure they will be." 

You linked arms and marched out of the room that had become a little more chaotic in the past hours. It took you a long time to finally put up a look that had both of you satisfied. What clothing didn't make it to the final round, ended up abandoned on various surfaces. 

The evening painted the skies over the city black. As you passed the huge windows, you noticed no snow speckles dancing on the wind. It was a shame from an aesthetic point, but would make the way to the party easier. 

Loki was in an amazing mood—right until the two of you were noticed. 

"Where the hell are you two going this time?" Tony's question echoed in the corridor as he stopped dead in his tracks. 

Bruce was right beside him, with a handful of papers and a coffee, but he stayed quiet. The memories of what had once happened between him and Loki must've still been fresh in his memory from the look on his face. 

"We," you cooed with the sweetest smile you could muster. "Are going to socialize a little." 

Tony blinked. "Over my dead body." 

"That can be arranged," the soft velvet of Loki's voice caressed the unspoken promise. 

There was a part of you (a big one) that wished to see Tony take that one small step for the situation to escalate. An equal part of Bruce, tugging on Tony's sleeve, wanted the precise opposite—and it won. 

Tony pointed a finger at you. "Don't disappoint us."

You laughed and resumed walking with Loki by your side. 

"Trust me, whatever your expectations of us are, we'll best them." 

"...that's what I'm afraid of," was all Tony said, a bitter edge in his voice. 

On any other day, Loki might've laughed at that, but the night was young and full of possibilities that for once didn't bother him much. The arm linked with yours seemed to steady him as much as push him forward. Loki had no talents regarding predicting the future, but for the first time in a while, the unknown didn't bother him. Little seemed to bother him lately, and he enjoyed the feeling. 

You left the building behind you and entered the winter chill. Your steps fell into sync as you entered the snow-covered streets and only then did Loki dare look at you. 

The night was indeed young and full of possibilities. Even ones he was only beginning to realize. 

[milknette]

day 17 - masquerade

you’ll wind up like the wreck you hide, behind that mask you use.

tumblr month: @auyeahaugust

links: ao3 | ff.net

"IT'S a masquerade, but it's unique because this time the masks aren't over your eyes, but they're over your mouth."

Nadja Chamack is visibly thrown, but maintains her calm attitude as she adjusts the face mask on her lips. "Well, that certainly is something… new," she finally decides to respond. "What made you decide on such a theme for the Mayor's— your father's annual Presidential Ball?"

Chloé shrugs, rolling her eyes. "Well, obviously I wanted a normal event, but that's impossible because of this stupid virus," she says, annoyingly clicking her tongue. "So I suggested that we do this instead."

"Alright then," Nadja remarks, before taking out a remote that controlled the large screen behind them. "Now, we have here some questions from Parisians who want to know more about the impending ball."

"Whatever," she only scoffs, before turning her head to face the screen.

[USER 1]: I don't understand why you don't just hold a regular event. Quarantine is lifted already, we don't need to be cautious anymore.

"Ha!" She snorts, shaking her head. "Are you insane? Just because quarantine's over doesn't mean we can just pretend nothing happened."

[USER 2]: But there's a vaccine and cure already available, right? Just have everyone take it, it's not that hard.

"Not everyone can, though," Chloé snaps at the screen. "Daddy's working hard to make it available for the public, but there are still people out there who can't access it. Try thinking about someone other than yourself for a change?"

[USER 3]: You're not even properly informed. Masks aren't good for anyone, they just make the virus worse—

Nadja shuts the screen closed, evidently aware of how irritated her special guest is becoming.

"Chloé, now…"

One can almost see the cartoonish tick that appears on her forehead. "Is this really what most of you believe? No wonder daddy's tired all the time, it's because some of you are so foolish as to think…"

"Chloé, we have another guest who—"

"No more guests," she seethes, whipping her head to the screen:

Only to come face-to-face with her personal idol.

(And Chat Noir, but… eh.)

"We got your invite, Chloé, and we'd love to go. It's a good advocacy that you're working toward, and we appreciate it!"

Ladybug smiles at the camera, with Chat enthusiastically doing a thumbs up in the background.

"See you then! Bug out!"

.

.

"I've never seen you be so nice to Chloé," Chat Noir starts, as they carefully sit on the ledge. He wears a black face mask with a single green paw in the middle— a gift Ladybug had made him after learning how to make ones that actually protected against the virus.

(Chat's only too happy that she had given him a gift at all.)

Ladybug shrugs. "I meant what I said," she says easily. "At least she's taking this pandemic seriously. And I like what their event stands for."

"Why don't they just cancel it, though?"

"Apparently they can't," she sighs. "The ball is necessary for Mayor Bourgeois' to maintain good relations with other leaders. But they're pulling out all the stops— having everyone tested, ensuring they've taken vaccines, social distancing… Chloé really doesn't want anyone to think they're just making light of the virus."

"Didn't expect that from her, huh?"

"I still think she's entitled, but at least I know I can count on her when it's important."

As the sun starts to go down, Ladybug decides to stand up and lazily stretch her arms. "Anyway, I have to go kitty. I'll see you this weekend? The Wear-A-Maskerade, don't forget!"

"I'm looking furward to it!"

.

.

He decides to show up as Adrien Agreste first.

(Ladybug told him she'd show up later on in the evening, so he figures he has some time before Chat Noir was needed.)

Chloé almost clings to him when he enters, before immediately stopping herself a few feet away. Instead, she bows to him. "Thanks for coming, Adrien."

(She's become a lot nicer since she started hanging out with Kagami— he figures that her strict moral code of goodness has started rubbing off on his childhood friend.

The need for social distancing helped, too.)

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," he only responds, looking in wonder at his surroundings.

Everyone's wearing a face mask, but it's all from designer brands and labels. (In fact, he spots quite a few Agreste masks being sported by the attendees.)

Adrien can clearly identify who's who, but ultimately decides that anonymity wasn't the purpose of the masquerade— not of this one, at the very least.

Subconsciously, he lightly tugs on his own face mask, a white one with gold-colored embellishments, the undeniable Agreste label placed at the very center.

(He only feels much too relieved that his father had consulted with medical professionals on ensuring the masks were at their most effective; and not simply used for their aesthetic or luxury designs.

— though, make no mistake, the prices for these masks still cost an insane amount. "It's only right," his father tells him.

"Capitalist," Adrien only thinks back.)

He spends the next few hours speaking and socializing with the guests; especially in order to cement relationships and friendships with those who'd help his father's company.

It's tiring work, but he finds comfort that everyone is as careful as he is; maintaining distance as they speak, avoiding direct contact, and never, not even for a moment, taking their masks off.

The cycle of exhaustion ends as soon as Ladybug enters the room— a bright red-and-black spotted mask covering her mouth.

Everyone immediately stops what they're doing, and almost begin to crowd her.

It's only Chloé's sharp and strict voice, "Anyone who violates the social distancing rule will be promptly kicked out of the event", that prevents them from moving any further.

Ladybug's relieved smile— though not directed at him, makes his spirit soar and his heart beat.

Adrien figures now is as good a time as any to transform into Chat Noir.

Excusing himself from a conversation, Adrien quickly runs off to the nearest empty bathroom and locks the door. He quickly changes face masks— he prefers Ladybug's, of course— and transforms.

In a few minute, Chat Noir comes bursting through the entrance, altogether too-loudly announcing that "his lady's purrince has arrived."

.

.

The ball is fun, for the most part.

Except that Chloé keeps looking for Adrien and Ladybug keeps looking for Chat Noir so he finds himself more often in the bathroom transforming than much of anything else.

"You're going to have to retire one of you soon, Adrien," Plagg sighs exhaustedly, after being detransformed the nth time that night. "I don't know how long I can keep doing this. Or how long you can keep it up."

"What do you mean?" Adrien asks, breathing heavily as he leans over one of the sinks. "I'm fine!"

"No," his kwami starts slowly. "You're—"

An old man suddenly enters the bathroom, and Adrien almost panics. "Ahahahaha!" He laughs maniacally, before looking in the mirror. "You are really one funny guy, Adrien."

He turns briefly to the newcomer, then smiles somewhat insanely. "Just talking to my old pal over here," Adrien says, patting the mirror. "Talking to myself… you know, like I always do."

The elderly man just stares blankly at him then nods slowly, before backing away. Adrien heaves a sigh of relief as he disappears— failing to notice the amused wink that the stranger throws toward his kwami.

As soon as he's gone, Plagg makes it a point to ensure the door is locked.

"See, you even forgot to lock it this time!" He complains. "If not for Master— my mastery of being a great kwami, then you would've been found out!

"That doesn't even make sense," Adrien argues. "And it's just an elderly man, I doubt he knows anything."

(Well, Plagg begs to differ.)

"But okay, this is the last time," he finally relents. "I'll stop Chat Noir, because Chloé expects me to stay until the end. I'm sure Ladybug will understand, okay?"

He picks up his mask from the sink, and puts it on.

Then— "Plagg, claws out!"

Adrien fails to notice his kwami's panicked expression as he gets sucked inside the ring.

.

.

Chat Noir finds Ladybug out in the hallway, other empty aside from the two of them. She's busily typing away at her miraculous, barely even noticing as he steps outside the bathroom.

"Milady, what are you doing alone on such a mewtiful night?"

She rolls her eyes, barely letting her eyes rip away from the screen. "I'm not really one for parties," Ladybug replies easily. "I'll probably leave soon, too. What about you—"

As soon as she looks up to stare at him, the words die on her mouth.

Instead she stares at him— almost too intently, her eyes burning holes into his face.

(Is this really happening? Is Ladybug… checking him out? Has she fallen for him the same way he's loved her for months—)

"I know that the glamour of the ball is tempting, but I'd never thought you'd stoop so low…"

Huh.

"... as to literally steal something, I mean, what is that supposed to be? You being a cat burglar or something? That's not even all that clever…"

"Hey, wait…"

"... We're supposed to be superheroes, Chat, I never thought you'd do something so…"

"Milady…"

"... and a mask, of all things?! I thought you were taking this pandemic seriously— and parading around in someone else's mask is extremely irresponsible of you to…"

"Ladybug."

"... what?"

"What are you talking about?"

He stares at her, evidently confused, before her expression flattens and looks almost angry.

"I'm not dumb, Chat; everyone knows that's Adrien Agreste's mask— it's originally designed by his father, and there's literally no other copy of it in this world. So you definitely stole it from him…"

"But I didn't steal anything!"

Ladybug speaks first. "Then how would you explain wearing it around your neck?!"

"Maybe think about other possibilities before assuming that I stole it?!" Chat Noir argues, shaking his head. "I thought you'd know me well enough to know that I'm not a thief, Ladybug— in fact, I would never need to steal anything! I have enough money to last me a—

Oh, wait.

Oops.

"... what do you mean?"

"Haha, I was just kidding, I'm actually dirt poor and stole this mask! You should probably also look around for Adrien, he's passed out somewhere… in an alleyway… uh, YEAH, so…"

"If you didn't take that mask, then there's only one possibility…"

"No, no, don't connect the dots— leave the dots unconnected! Yeah, social distance those dots! There's a virus going around, you know, so you shouldn't—"

"Adrien?!"

[allsassnoclass]

my only weakness (you know all my secrets)

I have had the great fortune to participate in @ashesonthefloor‘s Halloween fic event this year!  Honestly it was a blast and I’m super excited to see everyone else’s creations!

Event Masterlist

For this event, we all were assigned a pairing, then got to choose from a list of prompts.  My prompt was as follows: “You’ve told me three separate times now you have a vampire kink and I’m starting to wonder if you know I’m a vampire.” Or, pretty explanatory. One person is a vampire. The other has a vampire “kink”. (Can also be them saying they like the aesthetic, or trying to hint that they know and don’t mind. Literally do what you want with it) I strayed a little bit, but the prompt idea is still there!  Hope you enjoy!

Michael is having a hard time figuring out if the amount of vampire jokes and references is due to Ashton knowing his deepest, darkest secret, or if that's just his sense of humor.

Read on ao3

1.

The first time it happens, they’re heading to their first date.

Michael hasn’t really dated anyone since the 90s, because dating is complicated.  He doesn’t age.  He can’t eat regular food.  Going out in the sun is dicy at best and results in extremely painful sunburn at worst.  He shows up in most mirrors now, because they rarely have silver backing anymore, but pictures are a no-go because his eyes cause a lens flare.

The last person he went on an actual date with was Calum, because they’ve been friends for centuries and figured they might as well give it a go.  Michael wishes they could have worked, but it took some making out before they both agreed that, as much as they love each other, it’s all platonic.  The date itself was fun, but there were no romantic butterflies to be found.  Michael has seen Calum naked many times before, and while he can appreciate a handsome man, when it’s Calum it does nothing for him.

Ashton is very handsome.  He’s also funny, and passionate, and he’s got more than enough snark to speak Michael’s language.  He’s got tenacity and determination, and for some reason part of that determination got directed towards getting Michael on a date with him.

He didn’t have to work very hard.  Michael said yes at the first opportunity.

For the first date, Ashton asked if he could pick him up, so Michael waits nervously in his living room, listening to his grandfather clock ticking.  (He’s had it since 1733.  It was made specifically for him by the clockmaker, a parting gift because if Michael stayed in the area for too much longer, his lack of ageing would get suspicious.)

(This is such a bad idea.  Even if this date goes well, Michael can’t be in a relationship with a human for very long before his secret will slip.)

His phone vibrates with a message, and he nearly jumps out of his skin before he realizes that it’s just Calum, not Ashton about to cancel or spring a sudden change of plans.

Cal: have fun on your date ;) wow him with your Biting sense of humor

Michael: i hate you the puns got old centuries ago

Cal: you love them

Michael’s doorbell rings, startling him enough that he fumbles his phone and effectively cutting off any sort of argument he may have started to get into.  Michael stands from the couch, takes a deep breath, and answers the door.

Ashton looks really fucking good.  Michael has only really seen him in their work clothes, when Ashton is writing up articles about the local music scene and Michael is busy approving things to put on the website, but he dresses up very nicely.  His hair is artfully tousled in a way Michael knows must take a little bit of time, and Michael thinks there might be just a hint of glitter under his eyes that would make his heart palpitate if it still did stuff like that.  His shirt is short sleeved, showing off his arms nicely, and there are roses printed against the white fabric that match the ones in the bouquet in his hands.

Michael doesn’t know the last time someone gave him flowers.

“Hi,” Ashton says.  “You look amazing.”

Michael feels like he’s underdressed now.  He’s got on a black long sleeve, because the sun hasn’t fully set yet and he’s trying to cover as much skin as possible, and a pair of black jeans.  It’s a nicer shirt of his, something name brand that he can afford due to decades of saving here and there, but he’s well aware that his overall style leans more casual than dressy.

“Thanks,” he says.  “You look absolutely fantastic.”

Ashton glances down and smiles, pleased.  Michael likes that he can make him react like that.

“I got you flowers,” Ashton says.  “I hope you aren’t allergic.  It wouldn’t be the end of the world, but I’d feel silly.”

“I’m not,” Michael smiles, taking them from him.  There are a few sprigs of lily of the valley tucked in amongst the roses and ferns, and he takes a deep inhale.  He loves the sweet scent of roses and how lively fresh flowers can appear to be even when they’re dying.  Maybe it’s self-centered, but he likes to think there are some similarities between him and the plants.  They’re not alive anymore, but they’re still going, and they can still bring people a little bit of joy for a few impermanent moments before moving on.

“I’ll put these in some water.  You can step in for a second, if you want.”

He had excessively cleaned the entry and living room earlier in the evening, paranoid in case something like this forced Ashton inside.  At least now he’s certain that there’s nothing incriminating lying about.

“Nice place,” Ashton says.

“Thanks,” Michael replies, already booking it for the kitchen to grab a vase.  Once he gets there he takes a moment to try to stop the slight shake to his hands and compose himself.

You are an ancient, immortal being who has lived through the fall of empires, he scolds himself.  You can handle one date with a cute boy who brought you flowers.

Ashton beams when Michael says he’s ready to go.

“I was thinking we could walk, if that’s okay,” he says while Michael locks the door behind them.  “It’s not far.”

“Are you going to tell me where we’re actually going, yet?” Michael asks.  Ashton mimes zipping his lips.  The only information he gave Michael was that it’s going to be a pretty casual setting (and yet he showed up to Michael’s door looking like that) and that Michael won’t have to eat.  That’s something he specifically requested, making up a bunch of excuses about being gluten free and severely lactose intolerant and giving a list of other allergens a mile long.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Ashton laughs when he pouts.  “Come on.”

He grabs Michael’s hand to start leading him down the street, and Michael absolutely will not admit to himself how nice it feels, warm and alive against his.

They go through some basic small talk on the way there, touching on current work projects since they’re in different departments and learning a bit more about each other’s families.  Michael makes an excuse about his being in Australia and tells Ashton about Calum instead, and Ashton fills time by describing his mom and siblings.  It’s cute to see the way he lights up, seeming radiant in the light of the setting sun that Michael has to squint harshly against.

“Wow, you really don’t like the sun,” Ashton says eventually.

“What? Oh, not really, I guess.”

“I should’ve known, but I wasn’t sure if all of you are fully nocturnal or not.”

“What?” Michael asks, alarm bells ringing.  “Why would you--what makes you say that?”

Ashton shrugs nonchalantly.

“You know.  You’re just so pale and pasty,” he says, obvious tease in his voice.  “Definitely closer to a creature of the night than an early bird, I’d guess.”

He’s joking.  Ashton has not, somehow, discovered his secret ten minutes into their first date.

“Oh fuck you,” he laughs.  “Not all of us can have perfect natural tans.  I burn really easily.”

“Do you glow in the dark, too?  Turn fluorescent under blacklights?”

“Shut up,” Michael says, but he leans a little into Ashton as he says it to let him know that the banter isn’t unwelcome.

“I suppose we’ll find out soon enough.”

Michael doesn’t have a chance to ask what he means before Ashton is pulling him towards the doors of a large building.  He holds it open for him like a gentleman, and Michael misses the contact of their hands but appreciates having all of his senses free to process the new environment, which is full of a plethora of new sights, sounds, and smells.

“Roller skating?” Michael asks, looking around the large arena.  It’s dim, but his eyes adjust immediately to take in the wondrously tacky carpet outside the rink, highlighted in brief bursts by rotating colorful lights.  Loud music plays over the speakers, and in the arena people in small groups or pairs are making their way around the track.  He can smell fried food and various types of beverages coming from a bar in the corner, mingling with the scent of unfamiliar people.  He takes it all in for a moment, then dials back his senses to make it more bearable.

“It’ll be fun,” Ashton says.  “Willing to give it a go?”

“Definitely.”

They go get their skates, and Ashton pays for the shoe rental and the entrance fee.  Michael hasn’t been roller skating in probably around a decade, and he’s excited Ashton picked this as their date location.  So many date ideas these days have to do with food, the only thing Michael absolutely can’t participate in, but Ashton found something that will hopefully be fun while still allowing them to talk and get to know each other better.

“Ready?” Ashton asks.  Michael nods, and then they step out into the rink.

Ashton, it turns out, is worse at roller skating than Michael is.  That makes sense, because Michael did it a lot in the 70s and 90s and has gone a few times since to keep it fresh, and Ashton isn’t awful, but there are a few instances where he wobbles and his hand immediately reaches out to grab at Michael’s arm before he rebalances and apologizes.  Michael laughs at him good naturedly and does a few circles around him until Ashton huffs and Michael slips an arm through his.

“Come on,” Michael says.  “Once you’re used to this in about fifteen minutes, I’ll race you around the track.”

Michael wins the first race, but Ashton wins the second, although Michael is giggling too much for it to count, in his opinion.  They spend a lot of time making laps and talking, and Michael skates backwards to show off at every opportunity while Ashton dances to the songs that come on over the speakers to make him laugh.  It’s one of the best nights Michael has had in a long time, and by the time they leave they’re both walking slowly, stretching their time together as much as possible.

“I had a really good time tonight,” Ashton says when they finally reach Michael’s door.  His front light makes the glitter under Ashton’s eyes sparkle, and Michael technically doesn’t have to breathe, but his breath still catches.

“Me too,” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“So...do you want to do this again?” Ashton asks.

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot.  I’ll take you out, next time.”

“Okay,” Ashton smiles, ducking his head.  Michael catches a faint blush on his cheeks, blood rushing up to color them, and he loves that he sees Ashton like this.  At work, he’s always cool and level-headed, confident in what he says and strong in his opinions.  Michael has managed to turn him bashful, and that is possibly the best thing to come out of the date.

“I should let you get on with your night,” Ashton says eventually.  Michael tries to find some sort of excuse to get him to stay, but then Ashton leans forward and presses his lips to Michael’s cheek, soft and lingering.  When he takes a step back, Michael wants to pull him in again to memorize the scent of his skin and feel of his warmth.

“Good night,” Ashton says.

“Night,” Michael makes himself reply.  Ashton smiles again, then sets off down the street.  Michael watches him, smiling when he glances back and waves again, and continues to stand on his front stoop until Ashton is fully out of sight, even for him.

His phone buzzes as soon as he steps inside, and Michael pulls it out in case it’s something important or work related (or Ashton).

Cal: how was the date? or are you two still going…?

Michael: really fucking good

2.

On the third date, Michael gets to see the inside of Ashton’s apartment.

Michael took them stargazing for their second date.  There was a meteor shower he wanted to try to watch, anyway, and he found a good spot outside the city where it would be mostly visible.  Ashton likes being outdoors, and Michael doesn’t mind it at night, so he drove them out of the city, made the trek up a hill, and laid out a blanket for them to cuddle up in.  All in all, it was a great night.  Even the car ride to and from the location was amazing, because Michael told Ashton to make a playlist for it and they spent the entire time discussing favorite songs.  Ashton is such a snob about it sometimes, since he’s a music journalist and is always evaluating in his head, but there were a few surprises that he put on there simply because “good music doesn’t always have to be good music, Michael.”

Ashton kissed him on the cheek again when Michael walked him to his door.  Michael thinks that something so simple shouldn’t occupy so much space in his thoughts, but he’s been replaying it in his head over and over.  It’s a little distracting at work, especially when he gets one of Ashton’s articles to upload to the website.

They head to Ashton’s right after they both clock out.  Ashton doesn’t live far and typically walks (he really likes walking places, Michael has noticed), but Michael drives them so he’ll have his car handy at the end of the night.  It’s a relatively nice building, and Ashton holds the lobby door open for him, which counts enough as an invite to allow him to enter.  They take the elevator up to the fifth floor, then Ashton unlocks his door and steps in.

From what Michael can see, it’s a nice apartment.  The entry, kitchen, and living room flow easily together, and there’s a hallway off to the side that Michael assumes leads to the bathroom and bedrooms.

He can’t step over the threshold.  He hasn’t been invited in this time, not explicitly enough for him to freely enter despite knowing that Ashton wants him there.

“My roommate is out for the night.  I swear I cleaned before I left for work today,” Ashton says, puttering around the living room and picking up what looks like a stray sock, righting the pillows on the couch and straightening some books on the coffee table.  Michael leans against the doorframe and watches him.  Fluffing the pillows doesn’t really matter to Michael, but if it makes Ashton feel better it’s no hardship on him.

Ashton finishes, then glances around until he spots Michael still in the hall.

“Oh.  I didn’t really invite you in, did I.”

“It would’ve been the polite thing to do,” Michael teases.  “I’d hate to intrude, you know.”

“We wouldn’t want that,” Ashton says, coming forward and taking both of Michael’s hands in his.  “Michael Clifford, I formally invite you into my home.  You are welcome here whenever you’d like.”

“A simple ‘hey, come in,’ would’ve been sufficient, but thanks,” he laughs, stepping forward.

“Absolutely not,” Ashton says.  “If you’re going to be vampiric about entering my home, I’m going to treat you with the proper respect, Count Clifford.”

Apparently the vampire jokes are going to be a thing.  Michael can work with that, instead of panicking over it.  If he turns it into a bit, maybe Ashton will brush things off longer.

“Thank you, mortal.  Now, I vant to suck your blood,” he says, exaggerating the awful stereotypical (absolutely false and insulting) accent.  It gets a laugh from Ashton, though, which is what he wanted.

“If you manage to beat me at chess, I’ll let you,” Ashton says.

Michael hasn’t let himself think about Ashton’s blood.  He can control himself very easily around humans, and bloodlust isn’t really a thing with him unless he hasn’t eaten in over a week.  He has a specific concoction that he picks up from the magic shop like clockwork, a mixture of animal blood, some herbs, a few drops of human blood (humanely donated), and whatever the fuck is the flavor for that batch, but that doesn’t mean he’s completely forgotten how amazing it tastes to drink pure, living blood.  It’s incredibly intimate, and Michael hasn’t been that close with a human in a very, very long time.

“Okay,” he chokes, once the silence has stretched on too long.  Ashton quirks an eyebrow at him, but moves to get the board games without comment.

Michael loves board games.  He loves all games, really, and he mostly deals with video games now to keep as up to date as possible (and because he doesn't have to invite friends over to play most of them).  What’s nice about games, though, is that they can change every time.  Michael has been playing chess since it was invented, but he’s never played against Ashton, and it’s going to be an entirely new experience.

Unfortunately, Ashton is extremely good at chess.

“What the fuck,” Michael says, king toppling after a five-move checkmate.

“Darn,” Ashton replies, faux innocent.  “I guess there’ll be no bloodsucking tonight.”

“Wait, I want a rematch.  I’m good at chess, I swear.”

Ashton wins twice more before they move on to another game.  They cycle through a few before landing on a card game from Ashton’s family, one that Michael hasn’t heard of or played before.  It has a lot of complicated rules, and Ashton walks him through it slowly.  If Michael feints misunderstanding more than necessary just to have Ashton’s focus on him, leaning close to look at his cards and explain the best moves, then that’s his business.

Michael doesn’t realize how much time has passed until Ashton’s stomach grumbles loud enough for him to hear.

“How is it already nine o’clock?” he asks.  “Shit, you haven’t eaten yet.  You could’ve had something.”

Ashton just shakes his head.

“I’m not going to eat in front of you if I don’t have anything to feed you, too,” he says.  Michael wishes it were possible for him to digest human food, because while Ashton does have a nice amount of blood he could tap into with permission, somehow Michael doesn’t think that’s on the table

“I have a weird meal schedule, anyway,” he says.  “I eat a really big lunch, then only something small late at night.  I really don’t mind.”

“I’ll remember that for future reference,” Ashton says.  “Although someday I hope you let me feed you.”

It is such a good thing that breathing is an option for Michael, rather than a requirement.  Ashton may not have any clue how what he’s saying sounds, but that doesn’t mean Michael isn’t affected.

“We’ll see,” he says, although there’s no chance that’ll ever happen.  “I should probably head home, anyway.”

Ashton checks the time.

“You can stay longer if you want.  My roommate will be back soon, but he wouldn’t mind.”

Michael wants to stay, but he’s not sure he’d ever leave if he did.

“I think I’ll go.  I’m not sure we’re at the “meeting the roommates” stage yet.”

Michael stands, and Ashton follows to walk him out.

“I had a good time.  Again,” Ashton says as they walk down the stairs.

“Me too, even if I think you were somehow cheating at chess.”

“Hey,” Ashton complains, then pauses.  “I was going to say that jealousy isn’t a good look on you, but everything is a good look on you.”

“Shut up,” Michael says.  “That’s not true at all.  I have made some bad fashion choices in the past.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Ashton says.  Michael wishes he could show him the pictures from the 80s, as embarrassing as they are.  They reach the bottom landing entirely too soon, but Ashton walks him out to the parking deck until they’re standing next to his car.

“So,” Ashton says, squaring his shoulders.  “We’ve been on three dates so far, and I really like you, Michael.  Hanging out with you has been some of the most fun I’ve had in a long time.  I was wondering if you wanted to officially be my boyfriend.”

Fuck.  The smart thing would be to cut this off now, before either of them get too attached, because Michael already thinks it would absolutely shatter his non-existent heart if Ashton found out and thought he was a monster.

“Absolutely,” he says instead, because he’s an idiot who wants what he can’t have.  “These past few dates have been the most fun I’ve had in a long time, too.”

Ashton beams, like the sun breaking through clouds.  He has dimples, and Michael really wants to press his fingers into the divots.  He just wants to touch Ashton everywhere, really, to feel the soft skin and know that there’s blood bringing heat to it from his heart to every corner and crevice.

There’s something so absolutely tantalizing about how alive Ashton is.  Michael knows that he can’t be more like him, not even if he was actually alive still, but he’s content to have him near.  He’d be content to watch from a distance, honestly, but if Ashton wants him close then Michael is going to stay close.

He should not be this whipped after only the third date.

“Well,” he says once they’ve spent too much time grinning at each other silently.

“I should let you go,” Ashton says.  “I’ll text you.”

“I’d like that,” Michael says.  He goes to open his car door, but Ashton’s hand on his wrist stops him.  He leans forward and to kiss Michael on the cheek, just like the past two dates, but this time it lands a bit lower and closer to the middle.  The corner of his mouth hits Michael’s and lingers there for just a second longer than he can bear.

“For fucks sake,” he breathes, then slots their lips together properly.  Ashton smiles into the kiss before he can get it under control and properly kiss back.  Maybe it’s dramatic to say that this kiss feels like it’s filling some hole in Michael that he didn’t know was vacant, but Michael is a dramatic guy, and there’s something special about the way their noses bump and how instinctual it is to shift closer.  Michael doesn’t really want it to end, so he gives Ashton another peck before pulling away fully.  Ashton’s eyes take a moment to flutter open.

It’s definitely far too early to be in love, but Michael is very self-aware after being around for so long, and he knows he’s going to have to actively try not to fall head-over-heels for Ashton.

“Have a good night, Ashton,” Michael says.

“You too.  Drive safe.”

Michael keeps his composure as he pulls out of the parking space, aware of Ashton’s eyes on him.  He manages to keep it together all the way home, actually, but the moment his door shuts behind him he’s leaning against it, giddy with a crush and wondering what he’s just gotten himself into.

3.

Movie nights become a bit of a thing.  It’s a low-maintenance way to spend time together, and sometimes they’re both too tired after grueling work days or hard weeks to be around a lot of people.  Michael’s house has a pretty nice tv, and he has an extensive movie collection, including some horrible b-movies on VHS that Ashton finds endlessly amusing.  A lot of Michael’s favorite moments are spent snuggled up on the couch under Ashton’s arm or with his feet in his lap, watching the way the light from the screen plays off of his face more than the movie itself.

Ashton hasn’t seen the Twilight movies, which is almost a travesty.  Michael watched all of them in theaters with Calum, both of them weirdly captivated with how completely bonkers and inaccurate they are, and they’ve seen them often enough to quote them almost completely to each other at the drop of a hat.  Michael is tired today, and he wants something he doesn’t have to pay much attention to.

He sleeps significantly less than humans do, but that doesn’t mean that staying up for the past week and a half straight was a good idea.  He was also on his feet more than usual at work, and everything is hurting a little.  His body has better-than-average healing, but it’s also over a few centuries old.  Today, he’s feeling it.

Edward has just gotten the first sniff of Bella and looks like he’s about to puke when Ashton turns to him.  Michael is leaning against the corner of the couch, head lolling to the side and feet tucked up next to him.  He’s been looking at Ashton and letting his thoughts drift, and he should probably be more embarrassed than he is that he was caught at it.

“What’s up with you today?” Ashton asks.  “You’re suspiciously quiet.”

“Tired,” Michael says.  “My feet hurt.”

“I can help with one of those things,” he says.  “Give me your feet.”

“What?”

Ashton gestures until Michael uncurls, stretching his legs out until his feet land in Ashton’s lap.  He starts at Michael’s ankles, gently rubbing and then moving to the bottoms of his feet.  Michael jumps when he presses down on a particularly tight tendon, but it’s already feeling leagues better.

“I can’t believe you’re touching my feet,” he groans as Ashton presses a knuckle into the center, making his toes curl.  “That’s so gross.”

Ashton snorts.

“I don’t mind, but I’ll wash my hands after if it makes you feel better.  I just want to make you feel good.”

Michael’s face would be completely inflamed if he had the blood for it.

“Shut up.  This better not be a fetish for you.”

Ashton laughs this time, a full belly laugh that Michael would enjoy hearing more if it didn’t make him stop the massage.

“Would that be a deal breaker?” he giggles when he’s calmed down enough.  Michael takes a moment to evaluate if he’s actually joking or not, because he really likes Ashton and has loved being his boyfriend for the past couple of months, but feet might be where he draws the line.

“No, I don’t have a foot fetish,” Ashton says after a moment of Michael staring at him like a deer in the headlights.  Michael lets out a sigh of relief.  He can be adventurous about stuff like that, and he’s been around long enough to try basically everything, but someone being aroused by his feet will always be just a little too weird.

“Do you have any embarrassing fetishes or kinks?” Ashton asks conversationally.  “Just… for future reference, if that’s something you want.”

They haven’t done anything besides some lazy making out, which Michael is grateful for.  He likes that they’re taking their time with it.  He doesn’t want to rush this, but the thought has crossed his mind before.

He swallows.  Ashton’s alternating between glancing at the tv and paying attention to his massage, and Michael doesn’t know if he should be grateful that he’s not trapped under that gaze or upset that he doesn’t have Ashton’s full undivided attention.

“Nothing embarrassing,” Michael says.  “I’m open to a lot of things, but I really like being taken care of.  I’ve been told I can be demanding and needy.  Sometimes I like… being held down, I guess.  Nothing excessive, but…”

He’s an extra-strong, extra-resilient being.  Every time he feels like someone else has the control, it’s a special kind of rush.

Ashton glances at him from under his eyelashes, the blue-green light from the tv casting strange and otherworldly shadows over his face.  Michael swallows thickly again.

“I like taking care of my partner, so that works out,” Ashton says.  Michael nods.  Ashton turns back to the tv and tilts his head in consideration, putting his neck on full display.

“You know,” he says, “I never really was into biting, but now…” He trails off, then brings a finger up to his neck, tracing along the length of it subconsciously.  At least, Michael hopes that it’s subconscious.  The air is thick with tension, and if Ashton is doing this on purpose than he knows a lot more about Michael than he’s let on.

“It might be nice to be marked up a bit,” Ashton says.  He glances at Michael, the corner of his mouth turning up in a small smile.  “Maybe Bella had the right idea, going after a vampire.”

Michael snorts and the tension dissipates like a balloon popping.

“I hardly think anyone in this movie counts as a real vampire.”

“You don’t think real vampires sparkle in the sun?” Ashton asks.  “Darn.  What’s the point of vampires if you have to dump glitter on them for the sparkle effect?”

“You’re an idiot,” Michael laughs.

“I’m the idiot?  You’re the one who’s all the way over there when you have a perfectly good boyfriend right here who’s ready to cuddle you.”

Michael rolls his eyes and shifts to tuck himself against Ashton’s side.

“Happy?” he asks.

“Very,” Ashton says, taking a blanket from the back of the couch and draping it over them.  It’s cozy.  Michael sighs in contentment.

“Do your feet feel a little better?” Ashton asks, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“If you want to take a nap now, you can.”

Michael hums and seeks out Ashton’s other hand, tangling their fingers together sloppily.  He’s tired, but he probably won’t drift off.  He has all night for a power nap, and right now he doesn’t want to miss a second of his time with Ashton.

4.

The door bangs shut behind them, and Michael doesn’t have a moment to reorient himself before Ashton is on him again, lips incessantly seeking his and body caging him against the wall.  Michael’s own hands are already slipping under his shirt, desperate to feel the warm expanse of his back and pull him even closer.  He’s always run cold, even before he was turned, but right now he feels like he’s burning up from the inside out, flames igniting with every point of contact between them.  Ashton gets a hand in his hair and tugs, and Michael makes a noise he wasn’t expecting to come out of him.

Don’t drop your fangs, don’t drop your fangs, don’t drop your fangs, he repeats to himself.  It’s typically effortless to keep his fangs retracted and unnoticable, but he hasn’t done this with someone he truly likes in a very, very long time.  He can’t allow himself to get so mindlessly overwhelmed that they slip down.

Ashton detaches their lips to take a breath, and Michael takes the opportunity to trail kisses over his jawline and down the column of his throat.  Ashton hums into it, the sound reverberating through his vocal chords, and Michael nips at his throat to turn the hum into a groan, sucking at it again to ease the sting.

There’s a particular feeling of satisfaction at leaning back briefly to take in his progress, knowing that the blood is pooling just under the surface of Ashton’s skin.  When he returns to his ministrations with a slightly harsher bite, Ashton jolts, rocking into him.

“Fuck, Michael,” he breathes.

“What do you want to do tonight?” Michael asks between kisses, trailing over his collarbones now because Ashton never buttons his fucking shirts.

“Anything.  Everything.  I--” He’s cut off by another groan that dissolves into a breathless laugh.  “You’re so fucking distracting; get back up here.”

He tugs on Michael’s hair again, guiding their mouths together.  It’s easier than breathing to let Ashton take control, and Michael could stand here all night and let himself be kissed against the wall if there weren’t other things he wanted to be doing in the bedroom.  Still, he whines when Ashton pulls away.

“I know you don’t sleep, and I’ll keep up as much as I can,” Ashton pants.  “I can’t fucking wait to take you apart.”

“So do it,” Michael says, not able to care about how desperate he sounds.  “No one’s stopping you.”

“You’re such a mouthy little shit,” he says, leaning back in for a kiss that Michael feels all the way down to his toes.  They don’t part again until they’re in the bedroom and falling onto the mattress.

-/-

Afterwards, Michael watches, amused, as Ashton fights to keep his eyes open.  They never turned on the lights, but Michael can see just fine with his vampire eyesight and the early rays of sunshine beginning to paint the sky outside in pinks and oranges.

“Just go to sleep,” Michael laughs, tracing another mindless pattern onto Ashton’s ribs.  “We’re done.  I can’t handle anything else.”

“Weird to sleep when you’re not,” he mumbles, eyes already slipping closed again.  “Can feel you watching me.”

“I won’t watch you,” Michael says.  “I’ll probably fall asleep right after.”

Ashton snorts halfheartedly.  Michael rolls his eyes, then nudges Ashton onto his side and fits himself behind him.  Ashton sighs and relaxes again almost immediately, a heavy weight at his front while Michael slides one arm under the pillow and anchors them together with the other.  He gets a great view of Ashton’s sweaty and tangled hair, and that’s about it.

“There,” Michael murmurs.  “Now I can’t watch you.  Happy?”

Ashton hums.  He’ll be out in less than a minute.

Regardless of all of Ashton’s jokes about Michael never sleeping (he resents that he looks tired enough at all times for that to be an assumption), Ashton managed to tire him out.  He doesn’t need to sleep right now, but there’s no harm in it.  He lets the steady push and pull of Ashton’s breathing and the heartbeat he can barely feel under his palm lull him, and he drifts off soon after.

5.

“You want me to meet your family?” Michael asks, eyes wide in the face of this new information.

“If you’re comfortable with it,” Ashton says nonchalantly, but the way he’s avoiding Michael’s eyes tells him this conversation is anything but casual.  He’s focused on throwing things into a blender, raspberries and peaches joining ice cubes and yogurt for a smoothie that Michael has watched him make dozens of times before.  Michael can drink smoothies if they’re blended enough, and honestly he’s got a bit of a blood hunger going on because the last batch of his concoction from the magic store tasted gross and he’s supposed to go in today to get the new one.  Still, a smoothie wouldn’t help with that, and he turned down Ashton’s offer in favor of a cup of coffee, wanting a warm mug in his hands.  He’s glad to have something to keep his arms from flailing at this new curveball, in any case.

Ashton turns on the blender, the angry sound filling the previously-serene morning.

He can’t meet Ashton’s mum and siblings.  He’s a vampire, and he’s already entirely too attached to Ashton as it is.  It’s easy to fantasize about revealing his secret and Ashton being okay with it when it’s just the two of them, but there’s no way he can get to know his family only to break their heart when he has to leave Ashton for his own good.

Michael can’t watch Ashton grow old without him.  He could do it for a few years, maybe a few decades, and he wants to spend as much time with him as possible, but eventually it would get too hard.  Michael’s good at running, and he’s good at being alone.  It’s harder to do both of those things with a family involved.

“That’s a big step,” Michael says once the blender stops.

“I’ve met Calum, and you said he’s closer than your family.”

“Against my will!”

Calum had insisted on meeting “the guy who’s got you wrapped around his finger,” and Michael had been powerless to stop it.  They get on like a house fire and Michael gets teased about five times more than he used to, but he secretly loves it.  Calum and Ashton are by far the two people he loves most in the world, and it’s nice to see them also enjoy each other.

“Michael,” Ashton says, pouring his smoothie into a glass and still refusing to look at him, something unfamiliar in his expression, “I’ve never gone this long without introducing them to someone I’m serious about.  They really want to meet you.”

“I--I want to meet them, too, but…”

Ashton sighs and finally faces him head-on.  Michael has never felt this small.

“Are you serious about us?”

“Of course,” he says, but it comes out more like a question, and he watches something shutter in Ashton’s eyes.  He turns back to the blender, starting to dismantle it so he can rinse it properly, always trying to keep the kitchen neat, and Michael knows that he has to say something to try to fix this, anything to stop the sad slope of Ashton’s shoulders and that hurt look in his eyes.

“Ash, I have to tell you something,” he says before he can think twice.  Ashton hums, and Michael steels himself for whatever reaction is about to occur, whether he has to bolt for the door or not.  “I--um, well, I…”

He hasn’t had to confess to someone in over forty years.  He doesn’t know how to do it anymore.  He swallows and tries again.

“I don’t really know how to say this, but… I mean, I--”

“Shit,” Ashton exclaims, something clattering in the sink.

“What’s wrong?” Michael asks, and a second later the metallic tang of blood reaches his nose.

“Cut my thumb on the blender blades,” Ashton says, turning around and sticking the pad of his thumb in his mouth.  Michael stares at him, unable to move.

The thing is, Ashton’s blood smells really good.  He knew it would, because if he loves everything else about Ashton it makes sense that he would love him down to the blood in his veins and the DNA it carries, but this is the first time Ashton has split skin in his vicinity, and it’s more to handle than Michael thought it would be.  He’s hungry, and he’s upset, and Ashton is right there in front of him, bleeding.

He shakes himself from that train of thought.

“Are you alright?  How bad is it?” he asks.  Ashton takes his thumb out of his mouth to check, and that just makes the smell intensify.  Michael feels a bit of saliva pool in his mouth and swallows it back.

“It’s not too bad,” Ashton says.  “It mostly just hurts, but once the bleeding lessens I’ll put a bandaid on it and it should be fine.”

He goes to put it back in his mouth and glances up at Michael, freezing at whatever he sees there.  Michael doesn’t know what his face is doing, or why his posture feels so stiff, or what the fuck he’s supposed to do with Ashton just standing there with a bleeding thumb, and for a long moment they just stare at each other.  Michael forgets to breathe.

Slowly, like he’s coaxing a startled animal towards him, Ashton reaches out his hand towards Micheal.  A drop of blood drips off his thumb and onto the floor.  Michael couldn’t move even if he wanted to.

“You know,” Ashton says, low and calm, “you could help me stop the bleeding, if you wanted.”

Michael stares at him, not comprehending the words, when he feels two pinpricks on the inside of his bottom lip.

His fangs dropped.

“I have to go,” he says, scrambling out of his seat and hastily putting his coffee on the table.  He probably spills some, but he can’t look back to check, shoving on his shoes and sprinting out the door, Ashton’s questions echoing behind him.

Shit.  Shit shit shit shit shit.

He’s scrambling for his phone as he tries to unlock his car, tears starting to cloud his vision with the panic.  He presses Calum’s speed dial as soon as he gets the door open, tearing out of the parking space without putting on his seatbelt.

“Hello?” Calum finally answers.

“My fangs dropped,” he says, consonants coming out in that strange way they do when his mouth has more teeth than usual.

“What happened?” Calum asks immediately.  He knows how serious something like this can be, especially for someone like Michael, who tries so hard to avoid it.  He sniffles and blinks the tears out of his eyes so he can see the road better.  Calum’s house is close, and he just needs to get a few more blocks before he has backup.

“I was with Ashton and he cut himself on a blender.  I--we had a fight, or--I made him feel bad, in any case, and I haven’t eaten enough, and then he cut himself and I felt the fangs and ran out of there with no explanation.  He’s going to hate me.  I’ve ruined everything!”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Calum says, but it’s not like Ashton is his boyfriend.  Michael doesn’t know how to recover from something like this.

Calum tries to console him for the rest of the short car ride, stopping once Michael pulls into his driveway to turn an assessing gaze on him instead.  His expression tells Michael that he’s leaving much to be desired right now.

“Alright, Mikey.  Let’s get you out of the sun, yeah?  We’ll figure this out.”

He holds out his arms, and Michael falls right into them, letting Calum lead him into the house.  His fangs still prick at his lips, a sharp reminder of everything he ruined due to one second of lousy control.

+1

The bell to the magic shop digs as they enter, and Michael pulls down his sunglasses.  Calum got him to stop crying and gave him a bit of his own leftover concoction, because he hadn’t drunk all of it due to the taste, either.  It was enough for Michael to be able to get his fangs back under control, but it doesn’t stop how miserable he feels about the way he left, or the conversation they were having beforehand.

He can’t let himself be around Ashton if his fangs are going to drop like that.  He would never hurt him, he knows that, but there’s still the potential that he can’t ignore.  Ashton’s safety and comfort isn’t something he can risk.  Even if Ashton was somehow okay with him being a vampire, they wouldn’t work.

Michael has known this since the beginning.  He let himself fall in love, anyway.

There are three missed calls and over a dozen text messages that he still has to try to answer on his phone.  There’s no way to do that without breaking both of their hearts, but Calum told Ashton that Michael is physically okay and that he’d talk to him tomorrow.  For now, he needs to sort through his own feelings and calm down, and for that they need to pick up the weekly blood supply.

“Hi!” the witch at the counter says.  His name is Luke, and Calum’s been flirting with him ever since he started working there.  It would be cute if it didn’t make these excursions so tedious, and if Michael himself wasn’t currently mourning what is soon to be the end of an absolutely spectacular relationship.

“Our usual, please,” he says curtly.  Luke glances between him and Calum, who gives a beaming smile, then heads to the back storage room.

“Maybe it’ll taste less like shit this time,” he mutters.  Calum nudges him, but doesn’t get the chance to say anything before the bell over the door chimes again.  Michael knows who it is before he turns around, the scent and rhythm of his heartbeat as familiar to him as the back of his own hand.

Ashton freezes in the doorway.  He has changed into a sweatshirt, the one he wears when he’s having a bad day because it feels like a perpetual hug without having to be touched, and Michael is probably going to cry again.  Out of the three of them, Calum pulls himself together first.

“Hello, Ashton.  I didn’t know you frequented this shop.”

“Ashton!” Luke says, returning from the back with their order in a crate.  “Did you bring it?”

Michael finally notices the tupperware in his hands when he hands it to Luke, who opens a corner and sniffs.

“You know each other?” Michael asks.

“Oh, sorry!” Luke says.  “This is Ashton, my roommate.  I’d never eat lunch if he wasn’t there to bring it to me.”

“You’re the roommate?” Michael asks.  In all of their months of dating, he never managed to meet the roommate, even though Ashton has known Calum for weeks.  Weird schedules and Michael’s aversion to meeting and possibly getting attached to more people prevented it.  Luke looks between Michael, Calum, and Ashton, and then a lightbulb hits.

“You’re Ashton’s Michael!”

“How many other vampires named Michael do you know?” Ashton asks, and Michael reels back, Calum’s hand on his spine the only thing keeping him upright.

“You know?”  Ashton frowns.

“Michael, I’ve known since the first day I met you.”

“Wh--you never mentioned it!”

“I made some references, then figured it wasn’t something you were comfortable talking about.”

“Wait,” Luke says.  “You know Ashton is a minor deity, right?”

“What? ”

Michael turns desperately to Calum, because none of this makes sense, but Calum is having some sort of silent conversation with Luke.

“You two need to talk,” he says eventually.

“I need to show Calum something in the back, anyway,” Luke says, grabbing Calum’s sleeve and tugging him around the counter, shutting the door to the storeroom behind them.  It’s not the slickest move that Michael’s ever seen, but he’s having a crisis and can’t be bothered to laugh at Luke for it.

“So,” Ashton says.  “It seems there’s been a bit of miscommunication here.”

“You’re a deity?” Michael asks.  Ashton starts to blush, which is cute.  He clasps his hands together and nods once.

“Yeah, my entire family is.  The religion died down centuries ago, so it’s mostly our belief in each other that’s keeping us alive.  I’m basically just an immortal human now, but I’ve been around long enough to recognize other non-humans when I see them.”

“And you’ve known I was a vampire the entire time?” he asks.  Ashton nods.  “Oh.”

“I thought that you knew that I knew,” he says.

“I didn’t,” Michael says.  “I thought you would hate me when you found out.”

“I could never hate you,” Ashton says, taking a step forward and reaching for him before he aborts the movement.  Michael looks at his feet and wonders if what he says next will change that.

“My fangs dropped earlier, when you cut your thumb.”  His voice is steadier than anticipated, but he can’t help but brace himself for Ashton to back away or run screaming.  He doesn’t do either of those.

“Is that why you left so quickly?”

He nods, shame pooling in his stomach.

“I was offering, you know?  I wouldn’t have minded if you had a taste.”

“But I didn’t know that at the time,” Michael says, focusing on the shame so he doesn’t do something horrible like start thinking about what it would really be like to have some of Ashton’s blood.  “I just… lost control.  I can’t do that.  I won’t let myself.”

“I think you’re being a little hard on yourself,” Ashton says gently, stepping closer until he can put his hands on Michael’s arms, then sliding down to grasp his hands.  “Can you look at me?”  Michael tries, then shakes his head.  “That’s okay, and your fangs dropping earlier is okay, too.  You had a lot on your mind, were probably a little hungry, and I was waving my bloody finger under your nose, even if you didn’t recognize it as an invitation.  What’s important is that you didn’t try anything without asking.  You didn’t hurt me; you removed yourself from the situation.  I would say that that’s keeping things pretty under control, wouldn’t you?”

“But I could’ve hurt you, even if I didn’t.”

“Michael, you’re not a mindless beast,” Ashton says.  “The fact that you’re this upset about your body’s natural physical reaction shows that.  You’re not going to do anything to hurt someone else like that.  You have to trust yourself.”

Michael wrinkles his nose, then finally makes himself meet Ashton’s eyes.  There’s nothing but compassion there, no fear or disgust.

“You’re not going to hurt anyone,” Ashton repeats.

“I’m not going to hurt anyone,” Michael agrees.  “I can trust myself with that.”

A grin breaks out on Ashton’s face.

“Good,” he says.  “I trust you, too.”

“And, about meeting your family,” Michael starts.

“Don’t worry about that,” Ashton says.  “I was a little pushy.  We can talk about it and figure out something that works for both of us.”

“I was going to say that I’ll do it,” Michael says.  “Half of my worry had to do with me being a vampire and you and your family being unsuspecting humans, but that’s not an issue anymore.”

“What about the other half?”

“Just normal meeting-the-family jitters,” he says.  “They’re really important to you, and I don’t want them to hate me because I didn’t meet them earlier.”

“They won’t hate you,” Ashton says.  “You’re a delight.”

“I hope they share that thought.”

“They will.  I love you, so they will, too.”

Michael feels like he’s going to burst.  He also feels menally exhausted from this entire affair and the emotional whiplash it’s giving him.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks.  Ashton answers by leaning forward, and Michael sinks against him, melting into the feeling.

“So,” Calum says loudly, startling them both.  “Are you guys good now?”

“What do you think?” he snips.

“I don’t know, Luke,” Calum says, turning away from Michael and towards him.  “Do you think that they’re good now?”

“They did look rather cosy,” Luke says.  “In fact, I’d say that Ashton looked ready to pledge himself to Michael as his personal blood bank.  His little ketchup packet, if you will.”

Calum bursts out laughing.  Michael tries to be affronted, but Ashton starts laughing incredulously next to him.

“Ketchup packet?  Is that what I’m reduced to?”

“There are worse titles,” Calum says between bouts of laughter.  Luke looks ridiculously pleased at this development.

“Please never refer to him as my ketchup packet again,” Michael says.  “I’m begging you not to.”

“If the fangs fit,” Luke says, which makes Calum dissolve into laughter again.  It’s not even funny.  Honestly, they deserve each other.

“Come on,” Ashton says.  “Let’s go back to my place.  I want to hear all about your vampire antics from the olden days, now that I know you’re okay with talking about it.”

“Only if I get to hear stories about being a minor deity,” Michael says, grabbing his part of the blood order.  “Cal, you’re paying for this one!”

They’re out the door before Calum can protest, and Ashton puts an arm around his waist as they walk.  It’s uncomfortably sunny out, but Michael feels no rush to get back inside.  They’re both immortal, and they’ve got the rest of their lives.