#(in hate with each other to an extent and in a way that's getting kinda weird to everyone else involved)

[kraniumet]

read this and please tell me what's wrong with them

[zer0wzs]

"𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙤"

[ gn!reader ] jason todd does not know how greatly positive the impact of owning a dog is wc: 1232

AN: i whipped this up just randomly my apologies if its kinda just . eh??? i still like it to some extent and oh!! this is my first jason pov fic

“That’s Milo, I’m guessing?” Jason mused.

“Yeah! Isn’t he the cutest?” You grin, pointing at the four-month-old beagle. It’s Jason’s first time meeting the dog. He’s only known him through pictures so far, but you’ve only had him for a few days anyway. “Gosh, he’s the absolute cutest.”

Like a slightly dismissive father, Jason wasn’t too keen on the idea of getting a pet. Rent is high enough as it is, even in terms of Gotham’s cost of living, and as wonderful as the idea is, it would only dent his schedule.

You, however, go against his views (Not that he ever forced it on you) and adopt a rescue puppy from a nearby shelter.

“I don’t know. You might like the dog more than me.” He joked.

He’s still on the fence about this. Though you live on the more well-off side of the city, the neighborhoods here still aren’t the safest place to walk dogs. He’d hate to see you devastated if the dog got hurt.

“Aww,” you pout, giggling as you walk up to him and pinch his cheek—Milo cuddled in one arm. He’s perplexed, for sure, but he doesn’t reject this affection at all. Hell, he likes it for sure. “My pretty Jay is jealous.”

He scoffs, not knowing how to reply. His snarkiness is wiped. How embarrassing. He felt his cheeks flushing and eyebrows cinching. God, this was embarrassing. You’re kind of embarrassing. He wants it no other way, though. “No, I’m not? I did not say anything like—”

“It’s okaaaay,” you hum, swaying on your feet as you put Milo back on the floor. You pull his cheeks and sway each other back and forth. “You’ll always be my number one.”

He feels a kiss on his cheek, and his body pulls him back to look at it. It has its own mind that is disposed of you at this point.

The faint smell of your citrus shampoo is less notable. It’s been slowly replaced by the eternal fuzzy dog smell Milo, like any other dog, holds. He doesn’t hate it. Although he loves your usual scent, this is nice too. 

“What do you think?” You ask, breaking the silence one more. He sees the way your shoulders freeze a little and the way your eyebrows worriedly pull up. “Do you think he’s cute, or—”

“I think Milo is very lively. Very energetic. I like him.” Jason assures you with a hand holding your face, thumb caressing the cheek. “I’m just worried that it would take a toll on—”

“I know, I know,” you sigh. “I got this, though! You know how long I’ve been preparing for this.”

And he does. He’s seen you do the research. He’s seen you visit the shelter multiple times. He’s seen you saving up the money for the puppy—including food, vaccines, medicine, toys, and whatever things you fear the dog may need. He’s seen it all, and he questions why he’s even doubting you.

You’re smart. You’re strong. He comes to the conclusion, though, that he still holds the position to worry. He believes in it. At the end of the day, your safety and comfort is his responsibility.

You two are walking Milo—or, rather, you are; Jason’s just more than happy to accompany you.

He declines your many offers to hold his leash. He fears losing something that means so much to you or hurting him with a simple tug because of his sheer strength. He’s calculated, sure, but he’s not cut for this simple life. He knows roughly how much it would take him to bring down a squad of armed men, but he does not know when a batter is over or undermixed.

You don’t know that, though. It’ll stay that way, he thinks.

“I think this is it.” Your voice snaps Jason out of his thoughts. He looks at you and sees that you’re radiating, no, buzzing in excitement when you spot the sign that says, ‘dog park. “Here, Milo!”

You step inside the fenced area, and the puppy is more than eager to explore the new territory. Unclasping the leash from his collar, you give him a kiss on his snout before he runs to the pack of dogs—some big, some small.

He sees your caution that borders on uneasiness, watching if the dogs are friendly to him or not. 

“He’s adorable,” he says to break the tension, watching him play with his friends.

The worry on your face is lessened as you look at him. “Well, they do say that pets look like their owners.”

“Mmm, I see it,” he hums, pulling you closer by the chin and giving you a peck on the lips.

 “You really think so?” You bury yourself to his side. Your skin is an awful lot colder than his. He supposes, though, that it's just his body. That it simply overheats.

“Mhm.” He nods, pulling you impossibly closer to him with your head tucked right under his chin.

“Aw, thank you.”  The two of you stand like that for a few minutes.

Jason thinks it's sweet. He feels a foreign tenderness that’s only known to you. He’s learned to like it.

This feeling brings him close enough for him to imagine a family with you. The two of you are parents, and Milo is a son—your son. 

Too soon? His eye twitches as he sweeps the dream under the rug.

“Jay, look!” You grinned, pointing to Milo and some other dogs.

He’s surrounded by a pack of dogs, but they are clearly far from fighting. He definitely is an outgoing pet, something he probably got from you—or would get if-, yeah.

“I’m glad he’s getting along well. For a second, I was worried that the dogs would be hostile towards him.” 

“I don’t any man or dog could be angry at him. He’s too cute to be mad at.”

You nod, resting your head on his shoulder. “I totally agree.”

Jason is sitting by your kitchen island figuring out a jigsaw puzzle you got him when he hears you giggle uncontrollably.

“Milo, Miiiilooo,” You cooed, cuddling the puppy closer and closer to your face. He licks your face, teeth faintly grazing the tip of your nose. You’re only giddy about it. “I love you.”

It’s right then and there, after that interaction, where everything clicks: Jason realizes he does not want, or rather cannot, be with anyone else.

Ever so gentle and ever so kind, you are. It only shines through with how much heart you can and do pour into this puppy. No matter how many shoes he tears through, the rolls of tissues he makes a mess out of, and the times he’s chewed through your hair, it seems that your love is always bountiful and dedicated.

He realized how shallow this sounds. Maybe it’s just the way he was raised. To be grateful for any semblance of gift you had.

“Darling,” he calls out.

“Yes?” You answer, lying on the floor while petting Milo.

“I love you.”

Jason thinks that he wants to be more than welcoming to the small creature. Getting a dog might be a good idea.

Certainly, you seem confused, and he’s almost scared that you’ll reject it. He knows that that won’t be the case (or, at least, he listens to you tell him that).

“I love you too, Jay-love,” you smile.

[towriteloveontheirarms]

The princess´ favour (Criston Cole x Targtower!Reader)

synopsis: Your love may never be accepted by the people around you, that doesn´t hold you back from expressing it in the privacy of your chambers.

warnings: age gap, kinda forbidden relationship, smut, oral sex (m receiving), afab reader

word count: 1.9k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall @urmomsgirlfriend1 @bucknastysbabe

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

Dividers by me

As a girl you never understood what was so great about tourneys. Sitting beside your mother, flinching away from the raw violence of it all, while your brothers watched with a fascination you had rarely seen them have for anything. However, now as a woman grown, you began to see the appeal. Not for the fighting, but for something entirely else. Or rather someone entirely else. Sitting all the way in the front row of the stands with your brother Aemond, who was just under the age of being allowed to participate himself, watching on as knight after knight gets knocked off their horse. Analysing and talking on and on about what they could have done better, while your eyes solely rested on one knight, sitting on his horse waiting for his turn to most assuredly destroy his opponent. Your knight, as you called him in the secrecy of hidden places in the gardens, empty hallways around the keep and your chambers in the dead of night.

When it is Criston Cole's turn to compete against some knight from the Reach, whose name went in one ear and out the other almost immediately, he rides up to the stands. As his horse comes to a stand, his helmet finds its way under his arm and those dark eyes search for your own.

With a poorly concealed wide smile you lean over the railing. "Ser Criston."

His eyes light up with the way his name sounds falling from your lips and his own lips split into a smile, nodding to you in greeting.

“Your highness. I am sure to win this tourney. Would you do me the honour of doing so with your favour?” His voice carries over the background of excited chatter and knights barking commands at their squires.

Without hesitation you skip over to the small table to grab the ring braided from acacia blossoms to let it down the lance that is safely propped up against his side.

“Good luck, Ser.” You chirp, waiting for him to bow his head ever so lightly and then ride away to take his position. Only then you sit back down by Aemond´s side. The side eye he gives you easily goes ignored, as in the moment he opens his mouth, the horses start to race towards each other.

Of course, Criston ends up successfully knocking his opponent off his horse, having you jump up to applaud him enthusiastically. Along many other Ladies. Yet one look of his beautiful, dark eyes is enough to quell your doubts about his loyalty. It would be your chambers he would be sneaking into later.

“Have I told you how much I hate seeing you get hurt like this?” Your thumbs run over his cheeks to assess the extent of his wounds.

“You have, princess.” Criston smiles up at you, brown eyes watering as you run one of the digits over his busted lip, despite his victory he naturally had taken a few hits himself.

The heavy plates of his armour discarded and the clothes underneath unbuttoned to reveal his muscular chest.

“My apologies.” You mumble upon hearing him suck in a sharp breath.

Criston shifts ever so slightly before he lets you put the washcloth to his skin again, wandering down steadily. When you reach his chest, the backs of your noses brush against each other ever so slightly. Your breath catches in your throat and almost reflexively Criston's fingers twitch against your thigh.

"How are you feeling?" You mumble, still fully concentrated on cleaning his wounds.

"I feel quite alright, now that I have you all to myself." Criston looks at you, the glimpse of something sparkling in his eyes.

"My attention will always be on you only, my sweet knight. My affections will only ever belong to you." You put down the cloth you had used to clean him up and run your hands through his hair, before kissing his forehead.

After that you barely separate until your foreheads rest against each other, noses rubbing against each other playfully, before Criston´s lips find their way onto yours. They lap at each other in tender, languid motions while eager hands run over clothed bodies they had explored a multitude of times before. Still, even if you knew each other’s bodies like the back of your own hand, you would never grow tired of it. In all this time the butterflies never calmed.

In the blink of an eye Criston joins you on the bed, straddling your hips and pushing you onto your back. The world spins around the two of you from the abruptness of the motion, as the rough pad of a thumb traces your jaw line first, before running over your lower lip.

Instinctively your legs wrap around Criston´s hips. Before your lips can seal in another kiss though, you roll the two of you around, to comfortably kneel above the knight with a triumphant teasing smile.

“You have done enough already. Let me reward you for your win.” You whisper against his neck.

The tip of your tongue traces a line down the middle of his chest and abs to the hem of his pants.

On the bed Criston propped himself up on his elbows to look at you better, his breath hitching as you teased just under the material.

“As you wish, princess.” He breathed, hiding a half smile, by biting his lower lip.

You follow this up by pulling his pants and breeches down to his ankles to set the tan hardness free from its confines. The same action makes your mouth water at the thought of what was to follow alone already.

In a matter of moments, you gently take the base of his cock into one hand to lick up the length of the vein on its underside. When the wet muscle reaches the tip, your lips wrap around it eagerly, teasing the weeping slit. Underneath the hand resting on his strong thigh, the tired muscles begin to shake from the teasing actions.

“Princess…” Criston's shuddering voice sounds through the room.

His dark eyes, though half closed, are trained as you give his cock an experimental suck. Taking it in just a bit deeper. As an immediate reaction you can see from the corner of your eyes how the knight’s hands grip the sheets a bit tighter. With a happy sigh at the reaction, you set a comfortable pace. His hips meet your mouth, thrusting up with trembling legs.

After a while his thrusts become harsher, hitting the back of your throat now to elicit the most enticing moans mixed with quiet gagging sounds he had heard from you.

Amid trying to concentrate on breathing through your nose and the view of him vanishing under a veil of tears, the hand on his thigh wanders upwards. Immediately his body trembling turned into a full-on shaking. Your hand barely cups his stones, yet the touch pulls a groan from him, that has the juices from between your legs dripping down your own thighs. The sound is more rousing than anything you had ever heard before. You gently roll them in your palm and the knees on either side of your shoulders tighten abruptly and Criston´s hips push off the bed and into your mouth on their own volition.

“So good… I don´t think I am able to hold back much longer.” The cries of pleasure from his lips grow louder, uncaring of who outside the door might hear them.

The tip of the knight’s length slips past the back of your mouth and into your throat to make you gag. The wet sound fills the room for a moment followed by sputtering and panting, as you desperately gasp for air. At the same time, you never stopped pumping his hard cock.

The quick motions and have his body shaking uncontrollably, even more so when you put your lips to his big sack, placing gentle, wet kisses onto it and sucking it into your mouth. The two of you moan in unison. The vibrations again send shocks through Criston’s body, his eyes rolling back into his head and arms underneath going limp, unable to hold him up any longer.

“Please, princess.” The begging whimpers get repeated like a prayer.

You barely manage to separate long enough from laving affection onto his lower body to answer. “Please what, my sweet knight?”

“I'm so close." Is the desperate, needy whine you get to hear in turn. “Please, I want to finish.”

It's truly adorable how he still asks for permission to let his climax overcome him. Hips trying to hold back from trusting into your hand until you answered his pleads, swollen lips hanging open and a sheen of sweat coating his face.

“Go on then. Paint my face with your seed.” You encourage him, before going back to pay attention to his stones. Your tongue flicks out to play with them, while your hand tugs on the knight’s hardness just a bit faster. The other hand, which rubs circles into his inner thigh again, wanders up just far enough to let one finger put the lightest amount of pressure on the point right behind the sack. The reaction it earns in return is all the bigger.

Criston´s hands fist into the sheets and the groan that breaks free from tightly pressed together lips has you praying that no one would storm into the chambers while Criston does as you have told him. Painting your face with his seed, making you look like one of the women serving in the pillow houses in flea bottom. The ones Aegon would talk about, whenever he wished to upset either you or one of your siblings.

And in the moment, there exists no more beautiful sight in the entire world to your secret lover. You continue pumping his cock until he has nothing more to give and the whimpers from above have turned even more raw and high pitched. For a moment after that you sit back on your haunches to just revel in the glow that shines from Criston after his climax. One finger collects the seed on your face to get it into your mouth.

After that moment of respite, the washcloth is picked right back up and wet again. This time to wipe your face first and the knight's privates afterwards.

But the second you crawl onto the mattress the both of you know that there is not much time left to cuddle. Outside the sun started to set, colouring the sky in all kinds of beautiful shades of red and orange. Alerting you that you would be expected at a dinner in your mother's chambers and Criston needed to go back on post. Perhaps you had taken a bit too long to take care of his wounds, but when your knight’s lips graze yours, his chest still heaving underneath your hand, you can't find it in you to care about any of that. Not as long as he would be lying there with you.

“I do not know what I have done to deserve you, princess. You are too good to me.” He rasps against your lips, noses brushing against each other to make the moment more intimate, as your hands wander over the other´s sides and arms.

“You deserve only the best. I hope you know that.” You answer in a raw voice.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

It wasn't like the hero had planned this.

"Is this a joke?"

And it wasn't like they had much of a choice, either.

"Hey," they said. Their voice wasn't even fully there. It wasn't much more than a breath. Their hands were still trembling and they didn't dare to meet the villain's eyes. All in all, they felt pathetically incompetent. "Do you have bandages?"

The villain stared at them as if the hero was something alien that came out of a laboratory.

The hero supposed they couldn't blame them - they looked pretty fucked up with the blood running down their temple or the many cuts on their arms and legs.

"If this is one of your sad attempts where you try to get some heroic action out of me by pretending-"

The hero raised their arms in a defensive manner and contorted their face when their open wounds continued to torture them. It had been painful enough to drag themselves to the villain’s apartment.

"I just need some bandages," they said. "I have nothing on me. Frisk me. You can kick my ass when I do anything suspicious."

"Fine." The villain opened the door even further and let the hero walk past them. The villain's apartment was small but neat - just as the hero had expected. They knew their nemesis was a rather orderly person. Someone who had their rules and methods and acted accordingly. Hell, even their fighting was the most coordinated thing the hero had ever seen.

They heard the door close behind them.

Fascinated by the villain's choice of decoration, they barely noticed how they were about to reach the living room already. However, suddenly, the hero felt the villain's hand on their shoulder and in the next second, they got pushed against the hallway's wall.

Reluctantly, they whimpered, feeling the pain of their open wounds a little too well. The villain was right in front of them, studying their enemy carefully.

They cocked their head. They leaned over.

"Take your shoes off," the villain said. The hero swallowed. Although they had been this close to each other countless times, it was a little different now.

It was a little different in the villain's home, a little different with the hero's aching body. It was surely true that - to some extent - the hero wasn't just here for bandages. Deep within, they wanted some comfort but they knew not to ask for that. They had learnt a long time ago not to ask for these things.

"Sorry," the hero mumbled. They slipped out of their shoes without even looking down. The villain's gaze was indecipherable. Were they mad? Or bored? Or annoyed? The hero couldn't tell.

"I'm gonna check you for weapons now."

"Oh, yeah...yes." The villain's fingers were on them instantly and to the hero's surprise, they were stupidly gentle.

It could have been easy to make the hero suffer in a stage like this. With wounds all over their body, the villain could have grabbed them or pushed their fingers into the cuts but none of that ever happened.

Their fingers were simply ghosting over the hero's suit, avoiding the horrible wounds. Once the villain's hands were on their hips, the hero had to blush.

"Now tell me what happened," the villain said. Their voice was calm but their gaze was fixated on the hero.

Then, they kneeled in front of them, with their hands going down both sides of the hero's left thigh.

"Oh, I..."

And then the other thigh.

The hero took in a deep breath. It was hard to imagine that they were able to push their pain aside for a second because the villain was touching their thighs. Being distracted was a luxury they couldn't afford.

"I was in the middle of a training session and...I kinda freaked out and teleported to the other end of the city."

Admittedly, the hero hated their powers. Being a teleporter had a lot of potential, especially considering the different ways of defeating an enemy. They could be quite creative. It was somewhat exciting but it was still an incredibly difficult superpower to control.

In the beginning, the hero would teleport to random places. It had been so bad, in fact, that the agency had decided to lock them up for a few months. The hero understood it had been necessary but even today, they had nightmares about it.

Although they could control themselves now, sometimes (under immense stress), they would teleport with no control whatsoever.

It was pure chaos.

"I landed in the park nearby."

The villain was still kneeling. They looked up.

"So, you are telling me these cuts are from a training session? And you panicked during a training session so much that you teleported?"

"Pretty much, yeah." The villain let their fingers glide under the hero's pants right by their ankle and it quickly dawned on the hero that they had made a stupid mistake.

Presumably, the villain had known all along about the tiny knife the hero was always hiding right there. The hero's ears started to burn. The villain was going to throw them out.

They stood up and suddenly, the hero was oh so aware of how much taller the villain actually was compared to them. They held up the tiny knife.

"And you think that is normal?"

"Listen, I am so sorry. I forgot about that. I never meant to-"

"You believe it is okay that this happened?"

"What?"

"You teleporting to the other end of the city? You think that is normal?"

"It was just an accident," the hero said. They shrugged and even that hurt. "Things like that happen."

"Do you know why your body does this?" the villain asked. Apparently, they were done with their search. They confiscated the knife, barely paying any attention to it and the fact that, technically, the hero had lied to them about being unarmed.

They took the hero's arm and stared at a particularly deep cut. The hero could remember how it had happened; they had raised their arms to defend themselves from the upcoming attack. The blood was still running.

"I think I just suck at controlling my powers. I need to…you know, train more."

"It is a survival instinct," the villain said. "You are teleporting because your body wants to be anywhere but in that situation. A training session is supposed to challenge you, not traumatise you."

"You don't have to worry about me. In case that is what you are doing."

"I am…" The villain frowned. "I actually don't know what I am doing right now."

At least the villain was honest.

"But you need a bit more than just bandages," they continued. "Sit down in the living room. Just…"

The villain seemed a little confused. Their eyes avoided the hero, their fingers were still on them. The hero wasn't sure if their enemy was actually embarrassed.

I actually don't know what I am doing right now.

The hero smiled to themselves.

They didn't know what the villain was doing either but, at least, they were comforting, even though the hero being here could turn out to be a major risk for them.

"…just don't bleed all over my couch."

They weren't even mad when the hero failed to do that.

[scentedpepper]

Attempted Vehicular Manslaughter

BILLY HARGROVE X MALE READER

Summary: Max Mayfield hosts a pool party.

Content Warnings: Use of the F-slur, Use of Queer in a derogatory manner, Injuries, Verbal Abuse, Abusive Household Dynamics, Reader makes a 'if I wanna kms' joke

Other Pairings: Nancy Wheeler x Male Reader, Jonathan Byers x Male Reader, Max Mayfeild x Male Reader, Mike Wheeler x Male Reader

AUTHOR NOTE(S):

Oh brother we got a chatterbox

Had a dream about this ya'll

Readers a little sassy

Reader has a little brother

Reader has a bit of savior complex

Readers also kinda impulsive?

It's 3 am

_________________________________________

The grass was rough and patchy in the backyard, filled to the brim with wilted daisies and weeds crawling through the sprinklers. It was hardly worth a note of much consideration, as there had been nothing of great importance to discuss. There were many trees boarding the house. Pine or oak, maybe. And one dying cherry tree that was a stand alone in the yard. That was about the extent of anything substantial past the old silver fence that matched your shoes.

Nearest the house, under the shade, were several lawn chairs designated for the so-called "chaperones". The older brothers and sisters of the tweens. But really, it was nothing more than a cover-up.

Something to appease the parents' of the Hargrove house because Max knew it was odd to be friends with a group of kids the same age as her brother. Even her mother, who'd tried to remain impartial to any situation, narrowed her eyes and shifted her purse tighter when the suggestion of more than a couple 17 year old's parading around her house came.

Your mom was just happy you got along, let alone made some real friends outside the books, and encouraged the notion. More parental control, she reasoned. Less chances you were off with someone who intended on trouble.

Of course, all the shit about fighting monsters and being on the brink of death with these same friends wasn't factored in.

But no one besides them and the sheriff's deputy needed to know that.

The first time you had met the kids was, admittedly, what one would refer to as a kerfuffle. Riled up and trying to be dominant. Of course, because Billy was there, it spiraled even farther, and someone's head nearly got bashed into a rock.

That someone being you of obviously, after you'd been goaded into the fight and decided to step up. And boy, did Billy hate to lose. Hated being talked down to by a smaller kid who barely had pimples left on his face, let alone bulk.

You put up a good fight. You had a mean hit, especially the lick you gifted to Billy's chest, knocking the wind out of him when it connected. There was a bruise on his ribcage for days after and all the satisfaction he could possibly imagine at knowing it was from you.

But then he nearly killed you so, things turned sour rather quickly.

Which led to a rather impromptu welcome into the group of misfits, the lot of them. Unannounced and unexpected, you marched into the party after your small break down. Ready to be let in and accepted.

Finding out about the Upside Down was a mere accident.

You hadn't gone out of your way to befriend a group of children. Hadn't expected much in regards to friendship period even after getting your ass kicked by Billy Hargrove. Let alone a lifetime, one built from the shared experience of the horrors that lurk just underneath town, attached to one particular boy of the group.

But here you were. Standing in the backyard of Max's home like an idiot with the sun bearing down at your back. The late summer day nearly reached over 100 degrees as the clock neared the noon hour. Something you might have missed otherwise if it wasn't for the black analog watching you closely every time you renetered the house for a drink.

The main gaggle of kids swam and screamed every few seconds, trying to drag you into a half-baked game of Marco Polo that had the older Hawkins teens eyeing each other with concern.

You tapped the top of your can to ease the anxiety, looking around the edge of the yard again, past Max's mother, who waved awkwardly and would come around every so often, offering drinks or food to you, Nancy, and Jonathan.

"Nervous?" Jonathan prodded in his way, looking up from the half eaten sandwhich Will had taken two large bites from, making sure he had gotten his fill and packing it away when he received two big thumbs up from his little brother before he rentered the pool.

"Ah. " You leaned against the lawn chair, rolling your neck before looking over. "Expecting Billy to jump out from one of these corners, " you gesture towards the many hiding places you have spotted in the yard. "cause a scene. "

Nancy shifted uncomfortably, twisting her skirt slightly. "Not yet, at least. " She added while fidgeting with the button over the waist. "I thought he'd show up at least half-way through this thing. "

"Yeah, " you agreed, "thats why I'm–"

"On edge?" Jonathan filled in for you, a soft smile gracing his lips as Will looked over.

"Ready, he means. " Mike piped up, his hand was fully plunged into the cooler chest, blindly shifting around the ice as he looked over at the three.

Something in the tension held firm in the pit of your stomach, because the only times that this happened was whenever a confrontation was supposed to take place.

And judging from all the past events that had occurred, however mundane or fantastical they may be, this was probably going to end badly in more than just a couple of ways.

You'd managed to keep pretty calm in the past concerning Billy. Kept a level head about whatever shit he'd decided to cause that week. But something felt wrong today. That air in your gut had been hard to shake.

And the fact he had yet to make an appearance so far, did very little in easing you. And apparently everyone else involved.

"Don't know what his fucking problem is. " You curse, sitting up in the chair, "Never waits long to start shit."

In fact, you can almost pinpoint the time he entered the premises, an excuse to blame him for the sudden tightening in your gut and the goosebumps on your skin. Yet, he hadn't entered the backyard once since he got home. He stayed holed up in his room the entire day and that much was evident every time you, or Nancy, or Jonathan or one of the kids entered the house and heard the rock music blasting from his bedroom.

He hadn't even made a shadow to have showed his face.

For hours you waited.

Hours of worry and unease ate away at your gut while the rest of the party commenced unhindered.

And yet, it seemed all but for nothing in the grand scheme of things. Because as the sun started to lower from its zenith, you and the rest grew more tired and eventually, the temperature started to cool to a point where splashing around in the pool was no longer appropriate.

The kids came clamoring out, dripping in more chemicals than water, screaming and laughing in the process. It was getting near the five hour mark by then.

Your mind was heavy when you stood up to go inside, nearly tripping when your eyes clashed with the eldest person in the home, the both of you freezing awkwardly in the middle of the walk.

Both you and Max's mother were silent in each others presence. Stoic if there was ever a word for it.

Neil always seemed to be staring off into nothing, zoned out to some far away place only those who drowned themselves in alcohol and other momentary pleasures existed. They didn't interact, besides maybe the occasional conversation starter, or nod in passing whenever a person came too close for an inch of comfort. Not unusual in your opinion of strained marriages.

You began to speak, went to get yourself out of this weird positioning you've seemed to found yourself in. But Susan beat you to it.

"Can you do me a favor?" She beckoned before turning around and trotting off into the kitchen. Already assuming you would listen. You usually did. There weren't any hidden agendas for her actions and nothing against you personally.

She held some power that you wished wasn't. You would take just about any job that required you to be away from the current obstacles of your personal life. But as she turned back to look at you with that indescribable air and knowing nod, she had beaten you.

"Whats up?" You replied, voice more gravely then you meant it to be as you walked up behind her. She was sticking something into the microwave.

"Bye, Y/N/N. " Nancy had emerged from the Hargrove bathroom when she stood on her toes to place a friendly kiss on your cheek before joining Jonathan.

"See ya, Nance. " You say as the dark haired girl glided away, passing a wave to Jonathan and then they were out the front door.

The house was mostly empty now with nearly all the kids back home, and Dustin and Max tucked away in her room, waiting for Dustin's mother. There was enough silence now that you were itching to leave. The house had settled quiet, but you couldn't describe it as comfortable. There was a ribbed blanket across the couch that had obviously been sat on by its dishelved look.

The TV was on but the volume had been lowered so much that you were better off listening to Billy's faint music from down the hall for entertainment.

Water rushed from somewhere on the other side of the house and the distinct slam of a door being pulled shut gave you the visual to what you were hearing. Your little brother, most likely. You'd seen him dip down the hallway like he was about to shit himself the moment Nancy exited the bathroom.

You shifted around, placing your backside agaisnt the counter as you found new things to look at. Languidly, you watched, senses picking out different things around the house to latch on to. The light green walls, the ugly brown patterns on the carpet, the hum of the refrigerator that, strangely enough, harbored no family photos, just magnets with various corny sayings.

Your eyes lingered on the fridge.

Everything here was simple. Blank like a fresh canvas of dry paint. Apart from the dishes left in the sink and the few items of clothing to be picked up off the ground, it felt oddly wrong for an occupied residence.

"Y/N?"

A shift in the environment rippled over your skin and something felt charged but not in a fearful sort of way. You're pulled from your small internal worry by the same woman from before.

"Billy hasn't come from his room all day, mind taking this to him?"

Susan's got a glass plate in her hand, slightly extended our towards you. It's filled at every turn with food she'd transfered from the tupperware after the ding of the microwave you hadn't quite heard.

That same gut feeling crawled up your insides again, but you blamed the way your throat tightened on the anxiety. Why it was something now and not earlier, you can't be sure.

But, if there's one thing you learned from movies and popular tv shows, it's never to interrupt the motherfucker when he's listening to rock. But, here's your excuse. So, with a small nod and the plate in your hand, you try to shake it all away.

Because the worst that could happen is you get your ass beat again.

Stepping up to the wood slated door gave your lungs a run for their money. It was as if all the air had been sucked from the atmosphere and the pressure collapsed the walls around you. Only breathing through your nose you shook the fear away with a raised fist to the door, clenched the plate in your opposite hand.

Bass rattled through the floor and past the wooden door, you're graced with the faint sounds of the guitar on the stereo. There were bits of vocals in the background, a baritone voice that spoke. And perhaps that was part of the appeal. Your fingers danced on the metal that resided at the entrance. It felt cool on your skin.

You knocked again after a few seconds. Nothing sounded on the other side of the door but you were still unsure if Billy could hear you above the music. Maybe he'd turn it down once his father returned from whatever place he'd ventured off to in the night. But you didn't exactly have that time to be waiting around, despite your own fathers late tendencies.

You took a moment to think if you should just leave the plate on the floor, let him pick it up, and try to call a ride. You exhaled quickly, shifting your balance onto your other hip.

Before you even touched the doorknob with a single digit, the music turned down significantly and suddenly the atmosphere was more intense than you'd anticipated.

Which, was the new normal.

But, still.

Things felt off. The pressure in your bones caused your limbs to rise upward, to defend yourself, to at least put yourself in some position that wouldn't leave you open to attack.

For what?

You didn't know.

Because all Billy did was peer up at you from the crack in his door. Nothing significant yet his stare was nothing less than striking. Those blue things could put the oceans to shame, rivaling even the sky in its vivid colors. They were a mirror.

They shifted to the food, briefly. Then immediately returned back to you as the speaker could barely emit its sound.

You watched as the boy straightened, sighed and then opened the door wider, leaving the frame unguarded as he trailed off into his room.

The door held open but his gaze disappeared into the space on his mattress, and the music lowered a touch, no longer loud enough to break the door from its hinges but loud enough that Billy had to raise his voice over it to be properly heard.

You took a cautious step forward after staring at the boys backside, his attire didn't leave much to imagination but his half nude state was the least of your discernment seeing as one, you were fashioned the same way and two, Billy Hargrove was wordlessly inviting you into his room.

You thought maybe this was some kind of trick, a ploy to get you cornered, so your eyes danced over him in brief, consistent glances as you proceeded forward.

He was sitting by his window, a cigarette stuck between his two fingers as he silently stared off into the the darkness the world outside offered.

It was strange. Seemingly off guard as he propped the knee of one leg against the window, giving a free range to his left to lean. Hair swept over the shoulder to show part of his sharp jawline, which dimmed only with each intake of the deadly nicotine.

The room was bland save for a few posters, white walls, brown dresser pressed against a corner and a night stand tucked at the opposite. Clothes were tossed about, either on the floor or hung up half assed on something that you could only guess as a proper hanger.

His nightstand was covered in trash and empty beer cans and you thought of shoving them away before deciding to place the plate on his bed instead.

You spared him a last glance after the action, perplexed by the fact he was just so— quiet. Which, was certainly odd to everyone at least within half a mile from here. Usually the moment you entered his space, his bubble, he erupted like an animal defending its territory.

You decided not to push your luck. Because right now, it felt like the deadly cat across the African plains simply hadn't noticed you. And so your steps were as carefully placed as they had been when you entered. It was almost relaxing despite the looming feeling from the boys demeanor.

Billy felt a wave, a sort of ripple through the air as the presence of another remained in the room. He didn't bother to speak, only raised the unlit cigarette to his lips in a curious manner and took an unsteady puff, letting the wind carry the smoke out the screen. There was a storm, one he had sensed earlier but was hard to make out amongst the many things that had clouded his mind with anger.

Luckily, the only thing he could blame his outburst on earlier this morning was exhaustion, a clear sign of his lack of sleep from the night before which would easily explain his half dead posture and irritability that had pissed off nearly everyone around him.

Another explanation for his hideout in his room but one you couldn't quite understand.

You neared the exit when the floorboards creaked just as they had before and you almost wanted to freeze in your place. Like the cat would come pouncing now, mauling you to death.

"Not gonna make a show of it?" Came Billy's voice, it was low and calm but you caught the slight strain of it. As if he needed a clear of his throat to even be fully heard.

"A show of what?" You cast a glance over your shoulder, brows knit.

The blonde gestured with his lips, the subtle shift in his elbow drawing attention to the stick of tobacco. "I was waiting for some goddamn spectacle, L/N. "

"I don't know what you're talking about, Billy. " You sounded exasperated already and you stepped over a black shirt with a design you couldn't quite decipher from its crumpled up state. You made sure not to add anymore scratches to the ground and turned around, placing your back firmly against the door frame.

Billy's muscles became tense with the new body turned on him and he felt the wave again, the stirring of new energy entering the atmosphere.

But you had simply done so so that your back wasn't uncomfortably to him when you left.

"Whatever. " Was all Billy seemed to say before shutting you out, shoving that fucking piece of shit plate away from him. And in the split second your brain focused on how fast food was supposed to get cooled and not nearly three seconds after swallowing his cancer stick Billy must've caught the attention of the devil himself.

There was no denying the jagged yell, the shuffling in his voice like someone was gripping his head and holding it under water. You jumped away, eyes as wide as saucers as Billy's bedroom door flung open, smacking the adjacent wall with a loud slam that nearly cracked the plaster from the force.

And yet, his voice was a lot less louder than his grand entrance. "Hey, shit face. Why don't you make yourself useful instead of sitting around all day, having our guests, " he gestured to you, "bring you your own fucking food. "

You moved a step back, almost tripping on your own footing from your struggle to balance yourself without the solid sense of feeling. Your eyes darted frantically between the two people within your viewing distance, and you could barely make out Susan a few feet away who had her hand clasped on Max's shoulder.

She was ushering her daughter to their bedroom but Max refused, and the red head stood beside the door with a wary look.

"Get up. And give him a ride home. " Another gesture to you and when you looked towards the entrance of Billy's room again Neil was taking up the entire frame.

"That's really not–" You began but stopped as both of the parents turned to look at you with an appalled look. It was nothing personal but you doubted Billy even knew where you lived and the only time you ever rode with him was pervious to when he'd beat your ass.

"My dad–" You tried again.

"He won't answer the phone, much less pick you up. " Susan jumped in, though the hesitation on her voice made you doubt if that was her plan all along. "Your brother got a ride with the Henderson's. "

"Put on a shirt, stop acting like a balless queer, and go. " Again Neil thrust a drawn out, mocking tone, like his son couldn't comprehend basic sentences and he stepped out of the way to make room for your departure.

Billy's got a storm brewing in his expression and there was one moment where his eyes met yours and you were sure you'd drown in all the hate there was.

You didn't get a chance to argue about the amount of time it would take to get there and about how you would manage on your own. In fact, something in Max's eyes told you it'd be better not to. So you pressed your lips against each other as Billy grabbed his keys and pushed past you.

You watched Billy stalk past everyone, a gruff 'Yes, Sir' leaving his lips that you almost hadn't heard as he passed his father.

You exited the room shortly after, not sparing Susan or Neil a goodbye as you gingerly took your shirt from Max's hands.

She made a comment, something quietly spoken that not even your heightened hearing could make out over Billy's obnoxious slamming of the front door that he knew he would pay for later. You watched the young girl as she returned to her room.

Silence welcomed you when you first stepped into the driveway, stretching across the cement with a sense of uncomfortablity that didn't seem to fade as you entered the car and were met with a chilling quiet.

Billy didnt look at you as his ignition roared to life, nor did he speak to you as he pulled out the drive way. He stared ahead, chin down as he leaned just slightly forward, supporting an arm on the side door, palm rubbing soothing circles into his temple.

He was going 20 above the speed limit. You assumed you two were trying to get as far away from the house as you could. But, the further into the neighborhood you went, the lower the numbers on the radio dropped and the more the car filled with quiet music.

Hargrove was completely out of it, lost in some other space where you weren't welcome. And the car had filled with a tension you doubted he'd meant to cause, but given his current mood, you didn't think he could avoid it either.

Despite this, you chose to press yourself against the door with a turned head, the muscles in your body growing taut with discomfort the more you tried to make it seem as if you weren't even of existence in the passenger seat.

You wanted out of the car.

That much you could draw from your mind when you found that the speedometer was at 55 and increasing.

"Billy. " You tore your gaze from the meter, flickering over the silent boy who was intent on looking only at the road ahead.

No answer. His jaw was tightened and set. There were lines buried in the skin.

"Billy. " Your voice held a certain firmness that he didn't quite like.

Silence still and he tightened his grip on the leather, knuckles turning white. The streetlights were getting ready to cast those obnoxious eyes and like a perfect chain of events the little hairs of a certain song burst from the speakers.

His hand, fast with anger, whipped across the volume dial, ceasing the tune and replacing it with the rumble of the engine.

An inhale, then a single word. "What. "

Somehow you think that's the opposite of an answer. It's barely a question. With the tone of voice he held he shouldn't have phrased it that way because he clearly didn't want to know what you had to say, what you thought.

"Stop the car. I'll walk. " It was simple enough and on any normal occasion Billy might've done just that rather than wasting his gas on you. But tonight was different, and Billy, seemingly fueled by his own agitation, just blew past the stop sign and sent the speed at which the Camaro rolled up with you at dangerous levels.

The car vibrated lightly beneath you, air whistling as you tore through the neighborhood at an alarming rate.

"Oh for fucks sake. " It was a mutter to yourself because you hadn't exactly expected the boy to be cooperative but you didn't think you'd be forced to jump out of a moving car again. Yet, here you were; gripping the handle, poised like a god damn animal, eyeing the road as you built up your goddamned gallantry.

You didn't catch the surprise on Billy's face when he noticed you push the door open against the harsh winds.

Fuck it.

You fell with ease and with a soft oof! your limbs were somehow able to stand the blow rather than becoming mangled chunks of meat against the pavement. You could hear the car skidding to a stop five houses down as you took a moment to roll around in your own pain.

Your shirt had rode up on your torso, back pressed against the heated road as your skin made contact with the tar. You had a few scrapes along your spine, one over the delicate hip bone. And you were pretty sure the road had peeled the skin on your forearm all the way down to the elbow but hey, at least it wasn't your fucking face.

A few drops of blood gathered on a pebble directly to your right. Your nose gave a sharp twinge of pain.

"Dick. " You said that in regards to him, for every aspect of his personality. Because Billy Hargrove was what others considered a giant dick.

If you hadn't suspected it before you were sure when you heard the wheels start to turn again, the shift of a gear springing the Camaro back to life. And then footsteps, louder than the car itself, were slapping against the asphalt.

"Are you out of your fucking mind!?" You raised your head, eyes coming to focus on Billy's very fucking pissed form towering above you. Arms crossed defensively, face twisted with irritation as he glared down at you with something close to— well it looked a lot like anger but Billy only knew one of three emotions and that was definitely not concern.

"Fuck you. " You managed through a puddle of blood in your mouth that you promptly spit out, only having realized it was there the moment it began forming bubbles when you tried to speak.

Billy's voice stuttered in reply. "What the fuck is your problem? Do you want to fucking kill yourself or something?! "

"Better than death by fucking vehicular manslaughter on the account of Billy fucking Hargrove. " You muttered, hands pressing into the road to give you leverage when you attempt to stand up. Your body immediately yells a no to this action and you lay right back down on the road.

"What?" Billy is completely distraught in the sense that his brain has seemed to burst due the sheer incomprability of your actions.

"Oh I don't know, Billy, maybe the next time I feel like killing myself I'll call you and we'll go a hundred miles an hour off the fucking side of a cliff. "

The boys eyebrows were nearly touching his hairline as he stared at you.

"Watch me die like an old school movie where they're surrounded by bubbles and colors and shit. "

You spit the last remnants of blood from your mouth and Hargroves face ran red and blue. "Can you fucking shut the fuck up and get up already before anyone sees you. " He demanded, practically dancing around your form. Arms stretched out with a stance that reminded you very much of a gymnast.

"No. No. I think I'll lay here for a sec. " You roll onto your backside, a groan in your voice, arms folding over your body, posed like a corpse.

Billy stops in his antics and stares at you incredulously. "Are you serious?"

"Very serious, yes. " Your voice almost comes out like a sigh.

Billy reels, and if it wasn't for the fact your eyes were sealed shut now, you'd be able to see the absolute bewilderment of the teen as he stood there in the middle of the empty street. Arms half poised over you but not touching your form. As if he didn't know what do with you.

"...Get up. " He demands, standing straight again, his hands on his waist. This time he's not commanding you in that cold manner. There's a little rise to his voice like he's beginning to lose his patience, his forehead furrowing with anger.

You take another few moments to enjoy the silence. You swear you hear a cicada or something squeak from a window sill nearby and the air felt cooler than it has in weeks. Until it all becomes overbearing and your chest burns from a lack of oxygen. You didn't even realize you were holding your breath.

You open an eye to test the waters.

Billy's scowling now, a hand on his hip and the other resting across his forehead in disbelief. At you or the situation, you weren't entirely sure. Both you imagined. But there was a certain look on his face like he was ready to pull some kind of theatric, a reaction, throw a punch to knock some sense into you but ultimately decided against it.

"Where do you live?" He asked the question in such a manner that you couldn't help but be wary of his intentions.

"...Why?" You asked, the caution obvious in your voice. As he loomed over you like that... it wasn't doing a whole lot of trust building.

You almost hear the growl of frustration from his throat as he began rocking on the balls of his feet, hands swinging like he wasn't able to grab hold of something. "So we can fucking go. Before someone calls the fucking cops. "

You still hesitated.

"Before I fuck you up so hard they'll have to identify you by your fucking sperm. " Okay there were his threats. But they lacked the substance of his normal demeanor. He didn't seem overly angry like he typically did but still, his body gave some kind of look as though he couldn't quite will himself to control the way it trembled with adrenaline.

"Nice one, but you're not my type. " Another bite and a second of Billy looking absolutely befuddled as he tried to keep his voice down. His glare had weakened but only because he was taken off guard, and his cocky expression fell to a tight line.

You watched as he took a moment to look around the empty street. The lights weren't too bright so you couldn't make out that typical, telltale flush of his skin that you've grown accustomed to in his anger.

Your eyes flickered across his face, scanning every inch like a beacon. Curiously, you looked at him the same way he always did. Maybe you'd find some sort of answer hidden somewhere behind his icy blues.

The look on his face was strange. Pensive.

"Get up, Y/N. " An even voice this time. Calming maybe. And to think, all it took was a slightly gay comment in order to simmer the violent bastard.

You half wondered where the fag-bashing erratic moron went. Maybe he'd packed his bags and runaway. You could hope.

You did more than that infact, you put that right there on your bucket list, and with a frown, more for yourself than anything else, you looked away from the boy above you.

"Fine. Alright. " Your movements were stiff with pain as you moved to push yourself up by the palms of your hand, your arms trembling beneath the weight. The skin on your hand and forearm burned with a stinging sensation.

Billy watched at your pathetic attempts, a sneer or two on his face but he didn't seem to offer much help until it'd all get too pathetic and he had to reach out and aid you.

"Idiot. " His lip curled as his palm met yours, his fingers holding onto the back of your hand tight as possible.

You stumbled slightly upon becoming fully upright, teetering against Billy for a moment as you took a minute to regain your ground.

"Yeah, well whose fucking fault is that. " You've developed a lovely habit of hissing through your teeth with an unnecessary amount of spite. You're surprised Billy hasn't knocked you on your ass and left you for dead by now.

He scoffs, trying to put as much distance between the two of you while still having your arm linked through his, helping you along. To the ignorant eye, you suppose this would look platonic enough but anyone that knew the two of you well would certainly think otherwise.

Billy's all rigid limbs and stunted movements. Even when you'd finally started to walk on your own and your grip on his arm began to slack, he held firm with a grip like a vise.

And by the time you're at the passenger's side, he's shoving you into the seat and you nearly knock your head on the top of car.

You didn't bother giving a remark when he practically seethed through his teeth, slamming the door in your face. He strode around the car like a man on a mission.

"If you go more than 5 over the speed limit—" You felt the warning die on your tongue when you saw the look of pure anger etched onto Billy's face.

"You'll jump out. Yeah. " His hand came down on the shifter. "Got it. "

There was a part of your brain that you didn't recognize that was screaming in terror, completely and totally convinced you were going to die tonight at the hands of the ever brooding Billy Hargrove.

But much to your surprise, Billy maintains that 5 mile leway the entire drive home even when there's barely a car in the streets. He hadn't muttered a single word since throwing his angry body in the driver's seat.

Instead, he'd cranked up the music all the way as if it'd some how compensate for the lack of speed and conversation, not that there would be much to say anyway.

You hadn't bothered looking at him. He hadn't bothered looking at you. But somehow, in one way or another, the feeling as if you were watching each other was even more abundant in the silence.

Whatever hostility had remained from Billy's mood in the first half of the night had receded back into his depths for later. Though the occasional frown on his face never quite leaves no matter what, his eyes are softer now.

And by the time he's pulling into the dirt driveway of your home, the soft beams of amber and yellow from the streetlights dimly hitting half his face, there's no sign of anger or any real semblance of emotion. It's oddly quiet, and the only thing to really speak up was the steady rumble of the engine.

"Thanks. " You beckon quickly and with reluctantance as you awkwardly grabbed at the door handle, trying to turn as quickly as you could while still maintaining balance. Anything just to get out of his car and away from the guy.

"Y/N. " He voices and the moment you pull at the handle you come to find it's resistance. A dull tingle shoots up your spine and the hair on the back of your neck raises with tension.

You turn, facing the teen who kept an unconcerned façade. He was a calm still pond with blue eyes flickering like small waves in the face of a strong wind, and although most times they were ice and snow that held such a cold, unforgiving passion of arrogance, there were times they were the ripples of a breeze.

Now was one of those times.

"Don't go around pulling fucking stunts like that. "

That was definitely closer to a warning than anything else that had come from his lips the entirety of the night.

"This is coming from the guy who beat my ass into the concrete two months ago. " And at this point, you were too exhausted to be filled with spite for the boy.

His posture falters and not just figuratively. There's a shift to the way he's sitting but the flicker of his eyes remains. Even with you half turned, his stare remained. In fact, it seems to have gotten all the more intense.

"What's it to you anyway? " The way he tilted his head might have been endearing in another life. Now, it seemed to hold meaning, the way a predator stalks its prey with such observant behavior before sinking its teeth into its jugular.

His gaze on you could have bored into your brain, much like a drill for how quick your defenses seemed to start dissolving.

He'd always looked at you like this. Whether or not you caught his eyes on you was by chance.

In class, in the halls, it was all the same to him. He'd get one look and that was about all it took. He'd stare with the attention like an interrogation, as if trying to decode some secret behind your stature, trying to pick you apart bit by bit with those watchful baby blue's of his. And if there was no easy route to doing that he'd dig his little meat hooks into you until there was.

You were all he'd focus on. Not you in particular. More so the idea of you.

Whatever that meant.

Of course the only instance Billy looked at you without fail, hard looked at you like the blue was about to spill out of his eyes and swallow you up like a tsunami, was when he was a little tipsy or riled up with heat and fury. But like most of Billy's emotions, they were very intense. Too intense for something as simple as just a fucking stare. It almost gave you the illusion of a dangerous threat that made your skin buzz with goosebumps, your nerves rattling in their sockets.

He was doing the same now, except, the only difference was that he wasn't pissed faced or smoldering with alcohol this time. In the confines of his car, beneath the yellow white shine of the nearby street lights, he couldn't tear his gaze away even if you begged.

Billy was the sort of thing to stop you mid thought when you glance and feel your limbs freeze, suddenly petrified with all this uneasiness and sudden confusion as to why there was only one sort of definition to put on why you felt such things whenever his presence was met with a hundred paces of distance.

"I..." He starts but his voice falls flat. Something beyond frustration, something between anger and concern. The sort of look that told you he was working something out in his mind. Or he just couldn't find the proper word choice that didn't end in an f-bomb at the end of his sentence.

He's still staring, his eyes flickering back and forth between yours, like a candle wick in the night. Wavering. Stuttering. Inconsistent uncertainty.

Like he's just asking for guidance to fill his barren vocabulary, the words never existing like an undiscovered civilization in his brain, unable to conjure up the sort of speech that would get him what he wanted.

An abrupt sense of panic washed over you. You inhaled sharply and you didn't let the breath go until your next move was placed in front of you like a chess piece on the board and you couldn't take the time to think out any future moves on your part.

All of your attention was pulled to him, focused entirely. The way he moved, the way he breathed, it left a tingling feeling trailing behind him like some faint breeze of emotion.

Everything stilled, it was him and you. Him. And you.

And he's just looking at you like that. Mouth halfway opened and the noise of shallow heavy breaths were the only sounds falling from his lips while he's looking at you all wide-eyed, like some fresh-faced virgin whose never seen one in person before.

You cursed yourself. Cursed the wind. Cursed the ground. Cursed Billy and his stupid face. And every corner of his stupid car and everything else about him. You can curse the sun but that'd probably be a step too far. Especially the moment you met those watchful pools of sea foam.

Fucking Billy Hargrove and his stupid, fucking car and his even more stupid...

Lips.

Lips and teeth.

Teeth, pale pink lips.

Blue eyes, long lashes.

Stupid fucking curly hair.

The sort of curly where it always managed to get you by the tips, tangling its brambles in your fingers and refusing to let go.

Which is why the second Billy made a small noise– not even really a noise, it's a breath. A single exhale that hits your nose, hits you the way nothing has before, and it causes a wave of heat to wash over you, overtaking your senses.

You grab those curls, your fingers entwine them and his breath is alot heavier, alot hotter as his hands grip tightly onto your shirt, like he's a frightened child.

His lips are wet.

He's messy.

Sloppy.

Like he's never kissed before in his life. Lips that keep moving, and his tongue is too sensitive, too eager.

Every sharp inhale of breath reeks of sweat and chlorine.

There's no time to stop and make sense of the situation.

He's scrambling over the middle console, desperate hands gripping on your collar and in any other scenario, this would've been the step before he plummeted his fist into your face. But there's hardly anything suggesting that. At least not without the time to see the tiny trail of tears lining Billy's eyes, glossing his cheeks.

He tastes as he looks. Like liquid gold with his tongue rubbing against yours in a hot mass of burning motion. And any semblance of a rational train of thought was chucked out the window.

There was enough room in the front seat for a teenage boy and then some. Billy Hargrove was not such a teenage boy. There was barely enough room to shift and breathe and wriggle around in this half straddle.

You can faintly hear a heavy car pass over a mound in the road, an off balance tire or perhaps someone forgot to inflate it and the uneven troll on the road, not entirely deafening, but it's there. And Billy hears it and he jumps from you, leg grazing the shifter, head knocking into the top of the roof.

His ears are steaming red as he all but falls into the driver's seat, face flustered and hair slightly disheveled.

He's looking around like a wild animal caught in a trap and he can't escape, eyes flickering back and forth; from the gearshift all the way to the rear view mirror and then to your face.

Pupils shot open, dark and wide, and a hand coming up to press on his forehead, eyes squinting.

"Billy‐ " It's a start, but it doesn't stay long enough to be deemed a full sentence, not with his name lingering on your lips while you try to swallow down the heat in the pit of your stomach. Billy's looking at you, breathing heavy.

"Get out. " He mutters forcefully, the lock clicks open and when his hand comes up to rub across his face, it's shaking.

"Billy. " More insistent this time.

He looks a few shades redder than when he was before, his head snaps back to meet your stare, hair curling beneath his ears in a gentle mess, curls threatening to fall into his face.

"Get out!" His voice pitches, breaks into something close to a sob and Billy swings his arm wildly, fist connecting with the steering wheel and there's a loud honk as a warning before he shouts again. "Get the fuck out, you fucking faggot!" His voice reverberates across the entire neighborhood, shattering your ear drums in the process.

There's dogs barking from far away, probably due to the horn.

You hesitated but only for a moment before swinging the door open, just barely missing the opportunity to knock the shit out of your leg by the time Billy decided to slam down his foot on the pedal. The door shuts fast. The car speeds off before it has the chance.

You watched him drive away, with just as much intensity as the boy inside the car watched you in the rearview.

As your house began to shrink away into the distance, and the glare of the car grew smaller and smaller. You could hardly see those searing blue eyes the way you did in class. Though this time, instead of a look of hatred or scorn, it was one of fear and dread.

And maybe, just maybe, if there were more light shining on his face, it would reflect a thousand scenarios playing on his cheeks. Not that you would've been able to tell from all the way out here.

"Fuck. "

[justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms]

Hi! Hello! Welcome to Tokyo debunker fandom! I just saw your post abt sharing or asking for ideas , so if it was not an ask feel free to ignore it !

My biggest frustration is MC especially the vagastorme ep (I donthqte Leo because he's Leo I hate him cause th game wouldn't let me answer to him the way I wanttt ugh)

. I get that Devs are attempting a character fits all approach (would have been better if we had more choices for types of Players but alas)

My ask is: what type of what kind of personality would each of the characters be drawn into? For current MC I think she'd be more compatible with Mido,rui , Haku ,subaru,luca ...aka guys with more patience for the more tough guys ot's eother gonna be bery slow burn as in cooking on a candle kinda slow cause she needs to be more assertive (not the stubborn , angry kinda assertive , but the stop your attitude kinda assertive ) what do you think?

Also welcome again to he fandom! May you get the characters you want (I'm still trying to get Haku but no success 😭)

Hi Anon! Thank you for your request (and the official welcome to the fandom)! I had to break this one up into a few different posts separating the characters into their houses but I'll link them all here. I hope you like the headcanons!

What's Your Type? - Frostheim Edition

Fandom: Tokyo Debunker

Characters: Jin Kamurai, Thoma Ishibashi, Lucas Errant, Kaito Fuji x gn! Reader

Frostheim | Vagastrom | Jabberwock | Sinostra | Hotarubi | Obscuary | Mortkranken

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What sort of personality are the characters drawn to?

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Jin is drawn to someone with a strong enough personality that they can withstand his abrasive nature. Someone with a backbone.

At the same time, he doesn’t mind people who will do what he tells them to, no questions asked. Sometimes following orders on a dime is a matter of life and death.

He’s drawn to people who have high self esteem and good self confidence. Jin can be rough with his words sometimes and his partner needs to be able to withstand that to a certain extent.

I think he would also be drawn to someone who knows what they want in life and is willing to work for it. It would be nice if they weren’t afraid to ask for help from him on occasion as well. It makes him feel needed and wanted.

Thoma is drawn to hard workers. He’s got a busy life himself so he needs someone who’s used to a fast paced day.

He also needs someone loyal and passionate in his life. He seems to have a lot of conflicting loyalties, including loyalty to himself so he needs to be able to trust whoever he’s in a relationship with.

I can see him being drawn to someone who is quick witted and has some degree of intelligence. Whether it’s book smarts or street smarts, he doesn’t have a preference, just so long as they’re able to demonstrate intelligence.

He would also be drawn to someone who is observant and empathetic. Someone who can recognise the signs of burnout and give him a helping hand when it's needed.

Luca’s a tricky one. I see him as someone who falls for someone slowly based on their personality and actions rather than seeing a few things and being drawn to someone.

I do see him being drawn to loyalty and honesty. These are both traits he values highly in himself and others so it’s necessary that his romantic partner has them as well.

Luca would also be drawn to people who speak their mind. He’s not the best at social cues so being with someone who can say how they’re feeling clearly means a lot to him.

A mothering personality would also attract Luca. He’s a bit of a mum friend himself but it’s nice being on the receiving end sometimes.

Okay, we’ve got to address the elephant in the room for this one. Kaito is definitely going to be drawn to appearance initially. If you’re conventionally attractive, he’s going to be fawning over you.

Personality wise, he’d be attracted to someone who enjoys having fun. As long as that fun’s not life threatening, he’s happy to tag along and have some fun too.

I see Kaito as someone who would also be drawn to someone who has a lot of energy. He’s got the reserves to keep up and he enjoys seeing people making the most of life.

Kindness is another thing that draws Kaito to people. If you’ve got a soft heart, he’ll find himself wanting to make sure he’s the person you think of most fondly.

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[beefslipper]

Hello! sorry to bother you again. But this thought came to me at 2 am and I need to see your writing on it. How do you think hsr men show their affection? I know Dan Heng would be a man of service but Jing Yuan? Is he going to be like Dan Heng or more open about it? 🤔.

Anyways, I'll be there to eat up the masterpiece. Stay hydrated and Thank you! 💜

Don't apologize! :D

I'll try to do ALL the male characters, excluding MC and Duke Inferno. I thought about it but decided against it cuz AAAAAAAAAAAA. I'm going to cry like a baby if I forget any. Since there are 17 men (I think, I'm half asleep) I'm gonna number them in alphabetical order and just. Go with it.

Argenti

Argenti would do everything humanly possible for you. Whatever love language you're most comfortable with, he's doing that all for you and you only.

You like physical affection? Whenever you're okay with it, he's holding your hand, giving you kisses, doing whatever makes you feel best.

You like verbal affirmations? Bro isn't hesitating to never shut up about everything he loves about you (P.S., it's everything).

Gifts? Be prepared to get something from him every time you see each other. He's not gonna hold back at all for the person he loves most.

Arlan

Dude's 100% a cuddler. Spending hours with you is his way of showing he cares. He isn't just asking to cuddle to avoid his responsibilities, he willingly spends lots of time with you (and gets yelled at for doing that instead of doing what he needs to).

However, if you're alright with doing little tasks with him, he's bringing you with. You two often walk Peppy together or go to deal with anything that won't get you hurt. You could be like 20 times stronger than him and he'd refuse to 'let you risk getting hurt'. Lol.

Aventurine

You already know this peacock's buying you everything you want. That cute dress you saw in a shop window? All your's. A new pair of earrings that you don't really even need? Dawg you're getting that and like 50 other pairs. That one perfume everybody's talking about? He's buying the whole company for you.

However! Behind closed doors, he's all about physical affection. Whenever it's just the two of you, he's always clinging to you like a sloth.

Blade

No Gif for Bladie cuz Tumblr asked if I was suicidal LOL

Bladie would seem like he hates you in public. Like you killed his pet dog when he was 6 and has hated you ever since type stuff. But when you're alone, he LOVES physical affection. Mostly receiving it, but he's definitely sure to make you feel loved, too. Whenever he's not feeling too good, he sends you little gifts to show he cares since he's not good with his words.

In short, he'd be extremely dedicated to loving you if he didn't have such a negative relationship with love.

Boothill

He loves using his words because he comes up with the craziest affectionate names for you. Some that have your eyes popping out of your skull before you even have a chance to get blushy over 'em.

Besides that, it depends on what kinda person you are. Yapper? He's more than willing to sit there and listen to your voice. He'll try to pay attention but it's a 50/50. Listener? He's always got something weird or interesting to tell you.

Dan Heng

He likes physical stuff the most but to an extent. He refuses to do anything bigger than hand-holding and small, quick kisses while in public. He REALLY shows his love behind closed doors to make up for it.

However. If someone's bothering you in public, he's gonna unintentionally do that 'don't worry kitten, daddy's gonna protect you' thing. He'll be mean mugging the person while holding you because he hates seeing you so uncomfortable from random weirdos.

Dr. Ratio

BATHTUB GIF RATIO SCREAMS

As much as I hate 'tsunderes' from cringey 2020 stuff, Ratio's one of them. He'll call you the most offensive names you've ever heard as he makes you the most godly, perfect-tasting meal you've ever had.

Once the two of you have gotten close enough, he'd probably allow you in that stupid bath of his, but if you dare to try any NSFW stuff while he's reading, you're getting a thick-ass book to the head.

Gallagher

Words and physical affection. Yk that one image of the two blank characters swapping spit? That's you and him whenever you come up with some comeback to one of his teasing compliments.

Anyways, he'd always be holding you while in public. Anyone dares to express concern about it? Bro's throwing haymakers (reference).

Gepard

Geppieeee :D Although I wanna do Geppie, I've done some HCs on him on a different post (excuse for me to be lazy LOL)

Imbibitor Lunae

A plankton drooling and screaming yes gif came up when I searched his name sjfjkldsjf

IL would spoil you with gifts. He'd always be off doing his weird dragon shit, so he'd send gifts from where ever he was. You could get sea shells or flowers that somehow stay fresh for ever. You could even get hairpins or clothing.

He isn't big on physical affection only because I'm sure you'd be obsessed with touching his tail and 'horns'?. Whatever, he's not letting that happen lol.

Jing Yuan

Physical affection 100%. When he's cooped up indoors doing work, he brings you with him and has you sitting within arm's reach at all times. Or in his lap if you're especially clingy.

He'd try to be verbally affectionate, but he'd use a weird nickname once and forever be embarrassed by it so that's out the window.

Luka

Me rn omg the brain juices are running lower as this post goes on, I'm sure you can see the effort decreasing. My apologies for that.

Luka's probably physically affectionate and really wants that treatment from you, too. I can't imagine how sore he must be, bro punches robots and big-ass monsters all day.

I'm sure he'd also give you gifts and whatnot, but physical stuff > anything else.

Luocha

I feel like he'd switch constantly. Without warning. One day he's all happy and clingy and the next he's super distant but leaving you gifts like he's about to leave. He doesn't even have a real reason behind this other than he doesn't know which is easiest for him.

Misha

NAUR I GOT TRAUMATIZED BY THE GIFS SFLKJSKFJF :(

He'd be all about gifting. I only say this 'cuz of the little side stuff about him having a buncha candy and other little souvenirs. He'd definitely get you something if it reminded him of you.

Sampo

I couldn't help myself the gif was too tempting I'm sorry

He'd always be stealing random crap for you. He'd even use his beautiful persona to get you the more expensive things you want.

Besides that, I'm sure he uses lots of verbally affectionate words with you and makes sure you know how much he loves you. Even if he constantly dresses up as a beautiful woman to distract another man LMFAO.

Welt

Literally all of the above. There's nothing he wouldn't do for you. You need to be held? You're already in his lap. Craving anything? Bro's learning how to make it for you as we speak. Need to hear someone tell you that you're worth something? He's got a big-ass 36-page love letter for you already.

Yanqing

Physical 100%. He doesn't know how to use his words without turning into a blushing tomato. He'd rather hold you for hours on end than try to compliment you. He loves so much about you that he's physically incapable of coming up with a compliment.

BONUS BOYSSSSS

no more gifs omfg my computer gonna explode

Jiaoqiu

Gifts and verbal stuff definitely. He'd spoil you with your favorite food and would always compliment you to the point it seemed like he had endless compliments stored away for you alone.

However, you're getting thwacked with a spoon if you dare to try and touch his tail or ears. Cuddles and hugs are a-okay, but touching the sensitive parts? N O

Moze

He loves physical stuff... Ignoring his VA's crimes.

He'd probably spend a chunk of the day cuddling you and refusing to get out of bed. Whenever he's not cuddling you, he's making origami things of your favorite animals until you have an army of them, varying in size and color.

Screwllum

Definitely a gifter. He's always making new things to give to you. However, when he makes new inventions, he forces the MC to play with it to ensure it's absolutely safe before it gets into your hands (You're gonna find a way to break it and set everything on fire no matter what LOL)

Sunday

FINALLY THE LAST ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

He sends you expensive gifts, but before he really got to know you and what you want, he'd be sending some weird stuff. Like a cat killing a bird and leaving it on your porch for you or something.

Over time, he got better about his gift choices. He probably goes to Robin to beg for advice on what to get you next.

Holy breaking and entering Batman! That's a lotta yap. And gifs. Good lord the gifs. My computer's hardly alive. I'm hardly alive.

Well, despite the decrease in quality and effort over time, I hope you enjoyed the HCs!

Have a great day, evening, and/or night! :)

[the-ace-with-spades]

the silliest of silly ideas but---i just thought despite Mav totally not being Slider's type, they'd make good fwb, and Ice would hate it. (tw: non-descriptive/implied sex)

Ice is usually very reasonable, always thinking more with facts than feelings and that sets his views into firm, neat boxes — Ron knows this, loves this about him, really, and he'd never say a bad thing about it, even if sometimes it can be infuriating.

But apparently, that whole 'go by facts not feelings' thing can also turn into being both oblivious and in denial. Maverick seems to bring it all out in tenfolds.

He's never seen someone as in denial about their feelings as Ice is about his feelings for Maverick. It's kinda sad to observe — he doesn't get the extent of the feelings they do have between each other (romantic, but what kind? the off-on kind? the short-but-intense kind? the forever-and-ever-despite-everything kind?) but he knows it's a lot and it seems like a complete waste not to act on them.

And, okay, he's not a fan of Maverick, but he's growing on him. He's a good guy, all that anger and rebelliousness is just so intense for him because there's not much space to fit all in (he's a tiny guy) and Ron is kind of almost fond of it now. Never to the degree Ice is, but honestly, he doesn't think anyone can be as fond of Maverick as Ice is.

Maverick is also, well, trying. He's not as in denial, and definitely not as oblivious to Ice's feelings toward him, but all his attempts seemed to be either going over Ice's head or being subtly stirred away.

No wonder Maverick still goes for casual one-night stands when they go out to clubs — Ron sees all of it and he'd have also gone along with his life if his attempts at getting somewhere would meet with The Brick Wall of Denial.

"You've got feelings for him, man," he tells him, after another of Maverick's flirting attempts that Ice just swiftly averted, too fed up to bother with subtly.

"I do not," is Ice's automatic response. This time, though, he adds something more, "And even if I did, he's not going anywhere, is he? I can just wait until it's serious enough to do something about it."

It's more than Ron's got the past few months, and still so full of semi-reasonable thoughts that he can't doubt Ice has thought about this enough to convince himself he's right.

If almost two years of pinning isn't serious enough, Ron doesn't know what is.

"You do realize he's hooking up, like, at least twice a month, right? It's not like he's going to be waiting for you to make up your mind forever."

"They're all women and they don't mean anything to him. They're strangers, I bet he doesn't even remember their names."

He's not exactly wrong but— "Oh, so you'd make a move if he slept with a guy you know?"

"He's not going to do that, and even if, I doubt he's going to be telling left and right about it. " Then, when Ron doesn't stop giving him the side-eye, he adds, "No, this means no, I wouldn't."

Ice is right, Maverick isn't going to be telling anyone if he sleeps with a guy, but he can fucking tell Ice is boiling at the mare idea. So this formulates a plan in Ron's head — there's only one way for Ice to see Maverick sleep with a guy and that is if this happens in their own house.

At this point, he'll try anything, and it's not like this is going to be a hardship.

Ron is an equal opportunity kind of guy — or any opportunity kind of guy, more like — but he isn't able to say he's thought of Maverick that kinda way. One, because Ice is his best friend and although he's in denial, he's got dibs, and two, because Ron's type for guys is usually more of tall and lanky and more fun and laid back. Though Maverick isn't hard to look at and Ron can bet he's got the skill to back up all the hook-ups he's had, so well, again, it's not going a hardship, it's going to be a fun night. Sex always is, as long as whoever you're doing it with isn't a terrible person.

It's just a matter of getting Maverick on board.

Which is easier than he thought. He approaches him on Friday, leaning over Maverick's cubicle in the office, when everyone is already on their lunch break so there's no one around.

"So, you up for something casual?"

Maverick doesn't even look up at him. "What kind of casual?"

"The kind of casual you were going to have tomorrow night," he supplies. He's not going to try too hard.

Maverick raises his head, eyebrows up and he looks at Ron like he's lost his goddamn mind. "With—With you?"

And okay, he didn't need to say it like that.

"Yeah," he just says. When Maverick's expression doesn't change, he adds, "Come on, you can't tell me you don't like what you looking at."

Maverick leans back in his chair, neck straining as he gives Ron a long once over. He chews on his lip as his eyes go up and down as he judges whether Ron is up to some of his fucking standards.

Finally, he just says, "Time and place?"

Ron smirks. "My place, seven-thirty, tonight."

"And Ice is not going to... mind?" God, Maverick almost sounds hopeful that he would mind.

"Nah," he replies. "He knows about, you know."

He doesn't tell Ice anything, not even when they're back home. He only needs to say, "Hey, I'm going to have someone over tonight," and Ice just packs his book at around seven and shuts off in his room.

Maverick arrives on his motorbike and Ron takes him to his room as soon as they're inside. It's been a while since he slept with a guy and he's, well, he'd never admit it but he's a bit worked up for the night.

There are a couple of snarky comments about how Ron tidied up and how he's put fresh sheets on — Ron is nothing but classy, alright — and they set up some rules and dos and don'ts and Maverick goes straight to the point.

Kissing with their height difference is a bit difficult on Ron's back so they don't waste time and move onto Ron's bed.

He doesn't know why he's surprised that Maverick is loud, but he is, and he thought he'd find it annoying, but it's actually doing things to him.

It's not unusual for Ron to bring hook-ups to their house and Ice is used to it — but guys are sparse since it's simply easier and safer to have casual sex with women — so Ice only bangs on the wall they share at the noises once and then puts on a some jazz record way too loud.

All it does is make Maverick roll his eyes before they continue.

It is a fun night. Ron is surprised how not awkward it is — Mav is very good with his mouth and hands and hips and just in general. He responds to Ron's moves like they're fighting to prove who is better but it also gives Ron great, great satisfaction when he finally lets him lead.

He's in bed the same he's in a plane — overly passionate, making a competition out of something that shouldn't be a competition, and a bit crazy. Sex works for them as well as it could for two people who have no feelings for each other — they had a goal and were both amazing at fulfilling that goal. It's hot and intense and all the things Ron's been missing in sex in the past few months.

They do it once, fall asleep, wake up at around one in the morning, do it again, also waking up Ice with it, and then fall back asleep.

He wakes up in the morning and Mav is not there, but his clothes are. He meets Ice, coming out of the bathroom, wet hair floppy on his forehead, and when he gives him a look and asks, "Busy night, huh?" Ron only shrugs.

They notice Mav in their kitchen at the same time and he can see how Ice's whole body tenses up.

It wouldn't be that unusual of a sight — Maverick knows where their spare key is and uses it to let himself in whenever he and Ice go out jogging in the strangest hours of the day possible. What makes Ice freeze like a deer in headlight, or his cool and collected equivalent of it, is that Mav is wearing Slider's Dire Straits t-shirt only, which is way too big on him, the collar sliding down to reveal the hickeys Ron's left on his lower neck and collarbone. It covers him up to mid his thighs and this and his messy hair and distinctive lack of pants are speaking for themselves.

"Morning," is all Maverick says as he continues making his coffee.

Ron bites down the grin at Ice's clenched fists.

Ice blinks and then blurts out at Mav, "Why are you wearing Sli's t-shirt?" And nothing else, is kinda implied in the way his tone turns slightly higher.

"What? I wasn't about to wear my own, I smell like a sweat bucket and Ice was in the shower," Mav explains.

Ice takes a deep breath through his nose as he continues to give Slider a side-eye.

"You...stayed over," Ice says slowly, addressing Mav.

"Yeah?"

"At Slider's...?"

"Yeah?" Mav replies once more, a bit weirded out now, looking way too comfortable for someone who looks well-fucked-out and better than half-naked in someone else's kitchen. "I just forgot to bring a change of clothes, it won't happen again, duh."

Ice's face is blank as he asks, "... Again?"

Ron is nothing but a man of an opportunity and a shithead so he says, "I wouldn't oppose if we made it a regular thing."

"You're joking," Ice spits out.

"I mean, why not? Maybe try to buy some earplugs, Ice," Mav says, shrugging and taking his coffee. "I'm going to shower now."

"Next Friday?" Ron pops at him before he's out the kitchen doorway.

Ice slaps his side but he ignores him.

"Saturday," Mav counters. "I'm taking Bradley and Carole out on Friday."

He disappears in the hallway and Slider hears their heavy bathroom door opening and closing with a bang.

Ice's stare is perfectly leveled on him, the equivalent of a glare for him.

"What? You said you wouldn't care."

"Mav isn't just—He's my—I—him—I—" Ron raises an eyebrow at him. "Ugh."

He might be gloating, just a bit, because people rarely get The Iceman cornered, and he's managed it. He is aware there isn't anything Ice can say without sounding like a jealous, pinning idiot.

"I'll keep sleeping with him until you get a grip," he tells Ice when Mav is out of their earshot.

"Slider," Ice says through his teeth.

"He's really good in bed, so who knows, maybe it'll be months or years of fun?"

Ice's expression doesn't change, he's too collected to show anything but his face is red, just a bit, and Ron doesn't know if it's because he's pissed off or embarrassed, and he doesn't care. He needs to get a grip and ask Maverick out and in the meantime, well — Maverick is a good and very convenient lay.

"Speaking of which, I need to change my sheets."

Ice breaths through his nose again. Ron gives him a month and if he's still a coward in denial, he'll ask Maverick out on an actual date and see how that will work on Ice.

[lookingthroughmirrors]

What do you think about Percy and Nico or Pernico?

(Please no hate, I know people have a lot of opinions and this is simply mine based on my interpretation of the characters and not meant as an attack on anyone)

Hi 👋

I really like pernico, at least in some of the fanfics I’ve seen but I prefer it when they’re older and come back together. I really think the Percy and Nico friendship gets overlooked quite a bit, personally because I think a lot of people see Nico as a kid, and in comparison don’t see Percy like that.

I mean that more so when it comes to Bianca. I’ve seen different takes that it was Percy’s fault, that Percy purposely hurt Nico, that Percy doesn’t deserve to mourn Bianca.

1. I think Pernico no matter when it’s set, needs to address Bianca in some capacity, because it is such an integral part of their arc. I think for Percy there is always a guilt that he’ll have, survivor guilt or otherwise about what happened to Bianca and that should be acknowledged. It is also the first death that happens so directly in front of Percy, and his reaction shows that in comparison to later deaths in botl and tlo. Percy was used as a scapegoat in this situation for Nico’s anger at Bianca’s untimely death (and her somewhat abandonment of him but that’s a whole other thing). I think this is why I like older pernico so much, because often times they’ve dealt with or are dealing with this to some extent and I don’t see how the ship would work without first dealing with this.

2. I think the ship only works once Nico is passed the hero worship and later hatred of Percy. I think Nico has a lot of issues he needs to deal with and that he’d have to be doing that first before pernico could work. Tho I do love doomed relationship fics. I think they’d both have to reevaluate how they view one another for it to work (ie. Percy was a child put in an impossible situation, Nico was the same, the blame game was played, Nico is not one extreme or the other). Moral of the point, they need to sort their individual shit out first, and their issues between each other before a relationship could work, but I really think it would and really love the idea of them being together.

3. In some aspects I think Pernico, after going through points 1 and 2, is healthier than what I know of Solangelo or Percabeth in canon. Now this isn’t bashing but I do think both Solangelo and Percabeth are toxic in ways that aren’t as wildly addressed both in canon and fanon. The stuff with Nico’s powers always bothered me. He’s extremely powerful, and i think he kinda ends up nerfed in later books and things like Will banning him from shadow travelling for his health. One point is I think a child of Hades knows more about shadow travel and it’s affects than a child of Apollo, doctor or not. I also think that Nico had a tendency to overextend his powers in canon, which it’s shown when Percy does the same thing he’s heavily drained, nearly passes out ect. I think Percy would be able to help Nico in exercising his powers, as I think that’s the big issue really. I also think Nico as a character would be very tied to the Greek world and live more in that world than the mortal world, which despite canon I think would suit Percy. I think the whole New Rome College thing is odd, and he’s clearly going for Annabeth. Percy hated school, and I think it’s much more likely he went on to train halfbloods or worked in legion in New Rome than going to university.

(This is so much longer than I intended, sorry)

Overall, I think Percy and Nico (both in a relationship and as friends) have a lot of potential that wasn’t lived up to. There are definitely ways it could be toxic, but not more than any other ship has the potential to be if broken down (Percabeth, Piper and Jason and the fact he had no memory, Solangelo, the weirdness that is Leo and Calypso). Ultimately I think Pernico can prove to be a stronger ship than a lot of others too, because they’ve seen each other at their worst, they’ve seen each other stripped back and raw and grieving and they have seen each other in ways nobody else has. Percy knew Nico before he lost Bianca, he knew that side of Nico. Nico saw Percy through the war, through everything during the last Olympian. He saw him command the river Styx and wasn’t scared (which begs the comparison of Percabeth in Tartarus and Annabeth making Percy feel so bad about a particular power that he wouldn’t use it even when it meant he would die and ultimately had to be saved by a third party). They’ve seen each other grow and change, and that in turn changes people. I truly think once you get past the trauma that taints all their interactions, once they address and move past it, they are much better than many other ships. They seen the worst, and I think with that they’d find it much easier to be vulnerable with one another and show parts of themselves that they don’t show anyone else. I definitely like Pernico far better than Percabeth.

I honestly didn’t mean to write an entire essay on Pernico and my opinions but here we are. If you’ve read this far I hope I answered your question.

[anxiousdreamcore]

May I humbly asks for your interpretation/opinion/view of the Spider & Quaritch as well as the Spider & Sullies relationships/dynamics ?

Sure! I’ve complained about how my opinion of the characters changed throughout the year of being engaged in the fandom so I might as well share! 🤭

Spider: An audacious, frat-boy-ish teen who stinks of dirt, sweat and will eat a live bug to gross you out. Kiri said that he bites and she was 100% honest because this kid will fling his mask off and tear into your throat if you mess with his baby siblings 😤 at the same time, he’s more than capable of being responsible and gentle, especially when it comes to Pandora, its wildlife and cultures, all of which are clearly very important to him. A menace with a heart of gold and an iron fucking will, untameable. Unbreakable. No authority scares him.

Quaritch: A man so damaged he can’t be repaired. He’s seen too many horrors, killed too many people, watched too many comrades die, has been infected with too much poison. It runs in his veins and destroys everything he touches…which is precisely why he is only likeable as a father. He has never been one before and that part of him is completely new, not yet damaged. The only part of him not yet tainted by the rotten creature that is the rest of him. A mangy, old army dog that will burn Pandora to the ground if its chain is broken, but will lie down and wag its tail for his child, and only him.

Oh, and he’s mentally ill too, at least to some extent, canonically. It’s not to say that his mental illness makes him a bad guy. No. It’s the lack of care he puts into coping with it that contributes to the dumpster fire that is Miles Quaritch. My personal headcannon is that he needs mood-stabilisers yet regularly skips them.

Spider & Quaritch dynamic: Two outcasts who bond over being isolated by their respective groups. Also, Lima and Stockholm syndrome duo! Quaritch gets an instant liking to Spider that soon grows into fatherly love, as Spider brings out the best in him; his most pure, childish and kind traits. Does the rest of him, the rotten, the poisoned, hate it? Oh, absolutely. But he can’t, won’t stop the wild-child from worming his way deep into his decaying heart. Spider meanwhile battles his own platonic feelings and holds onto his resentment as much as he can. He wants to love Miles but he doesn’t. He loves him but he wishes him an agonising death. He wants to be hugged by him and sink a blade into his chest. He wants Miles to prove him that not all grown ups are rotten and he can still be loved. He wants Miles to love him.

Spider & Sully siblings dynamic: “A family disappointment and local cool stoner to his siblings, who are more than happy to take after him because they think his utter freedom and lack of care for authority is cool” kinda vibe. Will play fight with his siblings and bite their noses before kissing them better and shoving them away. Calls Tuk a little gremlin affectionately. Brings Lo’ak back down to Pandora when he spirals into his insecurities or gets too bold and self-sacrificial. Is platonic soulmates with Kiri and feels a profound connection to her, as she does to him. Resents Neteyam for abandoning their little group to become a "respectable warrior". Wants him back. Wishes things could be like when they were kids.

Spider & Neytiri dynamic: She she sees him as a pesky, dangerous demon child that…that didn’t do anything but stay loyal, through all the torture and horrors. A lot of guilt is present between them after the final battle, and they will definitely have a horrible, explosive argument about it sooner or later, but for now they are content at silently sharing space, at time quipping and taking light jabs at each other, because that is their cycle. Playfulness, fear, resentment, until it all explodes and they scream at each other, then the cycle repeats, fuelled by guilt. Is there a chance to stop it? Will they ever be okay?

Spider & Jake dynamic: Hero worship turned disappointment. Spider idolised him for his status and incredible feats as a child but as he grew, and Jake consistently kept him at an arms length without establishing clear boundaries, the constant pining to have him as a father became a never-ending, aching pain in Socorro’s chest. Jake gave him an empty hope that they might one day be a family, without ever clarifying that it’ll never be true, confusing the boy until he was proved not once, not twice, but thrice, that he isn’t needed, isn’t missed, or loved by Jake. He’s a stray animal, and that is all he’ll ever be to him. He knows better now than to wish for something that can never be…doesn’t even want to. Quaritch might be a horrific monster, but at least he genuinely loves him. He doesn’t need Jake’s pathetic scraps of affection anymore. He doesn’t need him anymore.

•

[meanbossart]

Just gotta say that the way you draw facial expressions is soooo dynamic, and your art makes me grin with equal feral glee when I see it. 🥰

I love your spooky smiley deranged durge, will you tell me more facts about them?

Thank you so much! And YES i certainly can uuhhh lets see

-In my personal canon he has no name, having first assumed to have forgotten it along with everything else and later being told/figuring out that he renounced any in favor of being called Bhaalspawn, Slayer, Death Bringer, Bhaaling, and any number of edgy titles we hear throughout the game lol he did this pre-tadpole to emphasize his birth-right and deny himself any personal identity. He never picked a name for himself post-tadpole and everyone just refers to him as The Drow, Astarion also calls him his usual pet names.

-He's not necessarily one for luxuries but still likes pretty, ostentatious things, especially jewelry. Pre-tadpole DU drow wore them generously, post-tadpole doesn't understand his own fascination, but he likes wearing rings and holds some sentimentality for specific pieces. (he never threw away the "magic" ring he stole from the tiefling child in act 1)

-Every expression of love and affection he had pre-tadpole came out pretty twisted, but with this in mind he very much adored Orin, though you would never guess it from seeing how they interacted with each other.

-The patterned scars on his chest, face and neck were mostly self inflicted (the rest he had Orin's help for). The one's on his arms were an "accident" kinda but he still put them there willingly (and gleefully lol)

-He has a borderline irrational hatred for drow women. He hates drows in general, though mostly because they're uptight and snobby and less so because of, yknow, all the slavery and child killing etc.

-Despite looking evil as hell he's very much morally neutral post-tadpole. He's pretty much a "do what you have to do to survive" kind of guy - and sometimes a "because i want to" kind of guy lol.

-He thinks very highly of himself which makes him overly bold. This got him through the whole campaign and destroying the brain but it also makes him a huge liability LOL its also a source of conflict in his and Astarion's relationship because he lowkey doesn't think Astarion can make it without him - he continuously and completely fails to realize how this is an issue.

-The only other people he has respect for and trusts are Shadowheart, Astarion and Jaheira. Ironically these are all people he didn't get along with well at all at the start.

-He's kind of a hopeless romantic, he's just weird about it. He's pretty much picked Astarion as his person and kind of devotes his life to him now, sometimes to a troubling extent.

-I'm writing a whole story that takes place post-game here where you can gleam a lot more about his character and learn things that i can't share yet because it would be a spoiler hint hint nudge nudge

[sampofan28]

pspspsp fellow bootheng fan… what are ur hcs?

Ok I got a few:

I like the idea that like them both having "strange" aspects of their body (Dan Heng's imbibator lunae/vidyhara form, and Boothill being a cyborg) is something they find comfort in, and they both feel comfortable showing those aspects around each other yknow, I THINK ESPECIALLY DAN HENG WITH HIS VIDYHARA STUFF

ALSO DAN HENG AND BOOTHILL BOTH HAVE COLD BLOOD, BECAUSE CMON ITD BE SO SILLYAND PERFECT, AND THEY PROBABLY USE 50 BLANKETS.

I like the idea (and maybe ill write a fic abt this if anyone would want to read) of Boothill going to the Xianzhou and really enjoying visiting with Dan Heng, expericing where he grew up. I also think he'd adore Bailu, and try to whisk her away from the little group she stays with that alwyas have to catch her(im zoning out on their name).

I really like the idea also that he affirms Dan Heng's identity seperate from Dan Feng, and is kinda a High Cloud Quintent hater. LIKE THIS IS COMING FROM SOMEONE WHO LOVES BLADE AND JING YUAN BTW I JUST THINK BOOTHILL WOULD KINDA HATE THEM, ESPECIALLY BLADE, IF HE EVER GOT TOLD ABOUT THAT STUFF.

I feel like they'd both really understand each other about their pasts, wanting to some extent leave their former identity in Boothill's case and wanting to leave his previous incarnation's identity in Dan Heng's case, and so they'd really be able to get each other in ways others might not.

I REALLY LIKE THE CONCEPT THAT BOOTHILL LIKES DOING DAN HENG'S HAIR WHEN HE'S IN HIS IMBIBATOR LUNAE FORM, AND HE LIKE BRUSHES IT OR BRAIDS IT NICELY OR SMTH, I THINK THAT'D BE SO CUTE.

I also feel like their the type of couple where Dan Heng almost never directly says they're dating, THEN BOOTHILL IS SUPER CASUAL ABOUT IT, just says boyfriend or nicknames 24/7 and it surprises people.

ALSO BOOTHILL USES PET NAMES. HE USES SO MANY PET NAMES. HE HAS HUNDREDS-NO THOUSANDS.

AND ONE MORE FOR THE ROAD: They occasionally sing together, or mainly Boothill enjoys humming tunes, and occasionally singing songs to himself he remembers or just enjoys, and Dan Heng ends up quietly joining. I IMAGINE THE FIRST TIME HE DID BOOTHILL WAS SURPRISE DAN HENG COULD SING RLLY WELL.

ANYWAYS HOPE THESE WERE GOOD, HAPPY TO FIND FELLOW BOOTHENG FANS <3

[firestorm09890]

On Wuthering Heights and Canto VI (complete)

wow.

move over “Call me Ishmael” line, this is the Canto that most resembles its source book. We’ve got direct quotes! We’ve got scenes playing out like the original, beat for beat! I’m so glad I read Wuthering Heights beforehand, because unlike the previous ones where it just enhanced the experience a little (or even left me unsatisfied that they didn’t adapt certain things), I can’t imagine what it might’ve been like to not know everything in the book.

It’s kind of uncanny, actually, the extent to which things are similar. At the end of part 2 I was thinking about how there could’ve been a universe where the events of the book continued to stay the same if not for Erlking Heathcliff learning about the alternate worlds, and hey, after looking at so many universes of Catherine and Heathcliff making each other miserable, Dante (*edit: I wrote Cathy here first. I forgot it was Dante who saw it) found one where they’re happy together, both as ghosts, which! Is just the end of real actual Wuthering Heights!

We continued to have canon divergence in that way of "what if [character] had done something different?" which is always my favorite, even if some of it was just visions into a timeline where things were different. What if Heathcliff recognized he was just as bad as Hindley when it came to Hareton? What if Heathcliff and Cathy hadn't gone to spy on Thrushcross Grange that night? What if Heathcliff had stayed to listen to the rest of what Cathy had to say?

It's a tragedy, and Erlking Heathcliff, and our Heathcliff, and every other Heathcliff believed that it was the type where he was doomed from the start, because of who he is, and nothing can change that. But Dante knew that no, actually, it's a tragedy because of the choices that were made, and they can't be changed now, but you can change, and that's how you change your fate.

Individual characters

Not surprised Hindley distorted. I think this one had a lot more hate within him than the original

RIP Isabella Linton, I mean Isabella Edgar. She found someone who wasn't Heathcliff and her brother STILL stopped talking to her, and ended up being used by Erlking Heathcliff anyway

Speaking of Linton (Edgar). I don't have much to say because if I'm being honest I don't like him very much and everything he said was kinda overshadowed by his absolutely disgusting death. Catherine saying he looked like a prince out of a fairytale is very interesting considering how much he looks like the Black Swan guys

I'm sad Josephine died. It makes narrative sense but it would’ve been funny if she outlasted everyone else just like in the book

Cathy! There's a lot to say about Cathy but I'm not sure I can be the one to do it. I like her. I'm glad she was fucked up and we got our "everyone sucks here, you're perfect for each other, never involve anyone else in your business" but of course other people are getting involved because this is fucking Wuthering Heights

SPEAKING OF GETTING INVOLVED! NELLY!! I'm sooo glad they gave her the unreliable narrator trait, and managed to put the whole "burning letters" thing in there too. I'm also glad that when she did inevitably betray the team, she stayed exactly the same in personality. It's like she said herself, the happy moments in the past were real. I hope she stops associating with Hermann and goes to do something else with her life. Imagine finding out that in every universe you're wrapped up in Heathcliff and Cathy's bullshit

no Hareton or Catherine II, but Catherine I and Heathcliff did a fine job breaking the cycle themselves, I think.

there's probably more things to say about the Erlking and the Wild Hunt but I'm so tired

[hiwelcometothemonstersancturary]

What’s it like for the older toys to have a drink for the first time?

OKAY, SO!

Angel doesn't allow anyone to drink until they have a precise confirmation of everyone's ages and medical exams come out detailing if there's anything the toys absolutely cannot eat. Everyone is fine and dandy, thankfully, so one day Angel comes back from the grocery store with a few thinks for the older toys to taste.

Poppy likes wine, and is way too knowledgeable on it since day 1. Angel asks her how she knows all of that, she shrugs it off and says she picked up from a book in Elliot Ludwig's office (which is true). She's always VERY excited to try new wines, and was 100÷ sure she couldnt get drunk until she got tipsy. Lots of "I told you"s happened that day.

Mommy Long Legs is also on the wine team, but with the addition of caipirinha and any drink that also has fruits added to it. She and Poppy act like they know everything about wine, and in the household they kinda do. MLL absolutely HATES getting even a bit tipsy, though. She's there for taste only and if she drinks too much she can and will get grumpy. She fears she'll be an aggressive kind of drunk and never tries to see if her theory is true or not, and things stay like this.

Catnap and Dogday both like it, even tho it feels like a very mature thing to do. They dont drink close to any of the younger toys unless Angel is around, though.

Crafty likes the taste and almost drinks too much. She gets instantly tipsy and that's how she finds out she cant handle much.

Kickin feels like he's a big Adult, but he's a biiiit dissapointed. All the adults he knew pre-HoJ always hyped drinking so much, and for what? He however is very excited about mixing things. Whenever they're allowed to drink he tries making something new, and he, Long Legs and Poppy have lots of talk about taste.

Miss Delight drinks one (1) cup and goes "okay thank you a lot!" and the turns starts mixing things up. She doesn't even partake on drinking, girl literally does not care, she just loves mixing things and seeing what works. She and Kickin come up with some cursed combinations for everyone to try out.

Bubba and Picky are excited at the idea of feeling like a normal-ish adult until they drink for the first time and hates it. -9999/10 who thought this was good. Why.

Hoppy is HYPED. Drinks a bit, likes it, is still SUPER HYPED. Angel has to stop her from drinking too much, and some time later on they find out it's VERY hard for her to get drunk.

Bobby finds that it's... Okay! She likes wine more than the other options, but not to the extent Poppy does. Angel makes some caipirinha later and it becomes her favorite, but again, she doesn't mind not having it. It's all just a big "oh okay!" to her.

Angel does keep some drinks in one of the fridges, but the toys hardly drink unless it's a weekend. However...

Prototype does let Catnap drink a bit more from time to time. They usually just sit outside Proto's hut and talk while drinking a bit before stopping. Catnap liked doing this because being a bit drunk would make him feel less guilty from everything.

Dogday would also drink alone sometimes in order to cope with Everything he went through. Then one day he catches Catnap leaving Proto's hut smelling like alcohol and the two stare at each other like "uh oh this doesn't feel like a good way to deal with Everything", and work together to have better coping mechanisms. After some months they completely drop the habit before it could run out of control, and are only able to do that because they're in a safe and healthy environment.

... Prototype still lets Catnap drink though. He trusts him enough.

[tomeebear04]

alot of people portray tord as some insane sociopath who doesn’t care about anyone and its particularly heightened in wtfuture content,that being said i personally dont mind these headcanons when i was younger i was totally in favor of tord being a villain but whats your opinion on it? From what ive seen red leader is especially abusive to future tom but i always thought the cast was pretty mean to eachother in the earlier eddisodes but just grew out of it,tord left before the rest of them stopped being so mean to eachother,now its more or less poking fun and annoying eachother here and there

do you think tord just didn’t get the memo and thought it was still okay to act like this? Im all for ‘edgier’ headcanons and story telling but i just personally think to an extent tord isn’t as much as an asshole as people try to make him out to be,at some point the cast have tried to kill eachother and tom literally did what he did in zanta claws (which i forgive him for <33) but i see alot more people give tord more flack than anyone,srry ab the long winded question but i am curious ab your answer ^^

this is a multi-part question so im going to number them to make it more readable lol. also dw about long asks; i like em. lover having conversations about the show with other people

the tord villain question. ah the thing that divides the eddsworld fandom to this day. my opinion on this is a little nuanced. i personally like that direction for his character. i think it's interesting. it recontextualizes a lot of his strange behaviors from earlier episodes. fan interpretation of the actual content of the end episodes have led to a lot of people hating that idea though. i can see why too. i'm not a fan on how people decided to portray tord afterwards. i don't think he was a nice or pleasant person from day one, but i definitely don't think he's a sociopath or psychopath or insane. well not any more insane than everyone else. there's a lot more going on with tord psychologically. he has shown to care about people to an extent. i definitely think he has some kind of personality disorder. i've seen fans discuss schizoid personality disorder and borderline personality disorder in regards to a diagnosis for tord. i don't know enough on the subject to comment either way. imo a good tord wouldn't lose any of the fun aspects of his personality to fit better into any given villain trope. trying to fit square peg in a circle hole, ya know?

tom abuse. this one im a hard no on. i dont know why this got so popular. tord and tom are rivals. making tord an abuser and tom his victim just seems wrong for their dynamic. a lot of that content is fetish driven...and well.. im not touching that topic with a 10 ft shit and piss covered pole. if you're gonna make tord terrible to tom, you have to make tom just as terrible back. they both get under each others skin. i prefer the idea that tord and tom are more friendly in wtfuture since edd is out of the picture. i mean tord has to like him enough to employ him. tom likes him enough to be able to borrow a time machine without much trouble. those are two emotional unstable buddies right there

everyone kinda sucks. this is just straight up true. everyone was out for blood early on in eddsworld. i mean just look at matt. that guy was straight up a menace. yeah the show changed a lot. the tone and the way characters treat each other softened. the tomee bear has a pretty good video on this. i don't disagree with much of what he says. it added a new way to view the end episodes which i greatly appreciate. i could see this being the direction they go for tord in canon

everyone elses crimes. when it comes to talking about the other characters crimes i'd say dont take it seriously if the show doesnt. tom's christmas demolition wasnt taken seriously at all as an act of domestic terrorism. it's a joke about tom's character taken to the extreme for comedy. most things they do are consequence-less. basically, only take it seriously when the show does. tord blowing up the house, killing jon, and betraying everyone was tonally a lot different from tom rapping about hating christmas and nuking bongland. that's the reason why people hate on tord for what he did a bit more. personally i hate tord for being an annoying gooner with confusing politics. but u know to each their own

[patheticallyinfatuatedwithu]

'5'*5"$5!5:5$!?$(?"!!'!!! (i love the minji fic u did !!!!! hoping to request more if its okay) (newjeans kisses & making out hcs on how would they react pls) - sc

hi sc anon! i'm glad u liked it, i felt like i kinda fucked up with the writing so i wasn't sure😭 a friendly reminder to everyone reading that this is a headcanon so if for some reason this offends you, please kindly and quietly leave🫶 i wasnt sure whether to write for hyein because this is yk😭 yall will have to excuse me for this one😭

minji

- you were both in the library, trying to study for the upcoming exam when you just can't seem to understand the question

- you turn to look at minji who sat opposite to you and oh.my.god.

- she looks so pretty doing her work that you were sure it's illegal, eyebrows furrowed, lips in a small almost unnoticeable pout, god you wanted to steal a kiss

- so you did, leaning over the table and placing your lips on top of her for a few seconds before moving away

- she blushed at the sudden display of affection, brushing it of with a blush, "go back to your work." but she likes it nonetheless

- however, the little peck wasn't enough as you stood up and walked behind her chair, turning it around to face you before leaning for another kiss

- and as much as she wants to go back to her work, she just cant resist you as much as you can't resist her as well

- the little study session turned into a making out session in the most secluded place in the library where nobody can see, her hands grasping the collar of your shirt

- when you pull away, you're both a mess, lips slightly swollen, cheeks flushed and chests rising and falling

- "well that was productive, wasn't it?" you'd be all smug later while she's trying to hold back her attack on you

hanni

- you've seen those "stealing a kiss from my boyfriend and look for his reaction" videos on tiktok, wanting to try it on your own girlfriend

- so you did, turning away from the horror movie she struggled to watch and stealing a kiss

- she looks at you with an annoyed face (which you knew was fake) and arms crossed, "way too chicken to really kiss me?"

- so you pull her to your lips, crashing against each other as she makes a noise of surprise, melting after shock dissipated

- she's grabbing onto your forearm for dear life, her knees felt weak and collapsed under her as you kiss her with such passion (and kinda rough)

- the kiss was lowkey bruising and hanni looks like she's run a whole marathon with the way she looked

- "cat got your tongue?" she manages to mumble a "shut up", completely flustered

- the whole movie was disregarded, and you turned on a new movie that's not a horror movie

- "here you go, sweets"

danielle

- she came to you and asked for a kiss, and who could say no to her?

- so you nodded, pulling her in for one. the kiss was soft and gentle, and you were afraid to hurt her as if she were glass

- she was smiling in the kiss, and you felt her too, which caused the same reaction for you too

- you pulled away when air was needed, jewelled eyes meeting yours that shined with adoration for her

- "how did i manage to get so lucky when i didn't even do anything lucky-like?" she pinched your cheeks and then pecked it, "you being born is already a 'lucky-like'."

- you flushed, hiding your face in her neck. "i love you." "i love you too. so much."

- and you kissed her again🥹 what a great valentines for you

haerin

- you didnt really think haerin was physical touch person, because all she did throughout the 3 months you've dated was cling onto your arm. im not even kidding

- you were always the one who initiated physical touch, but definitely not to an extent where she hates it. only backhugs and cheek kisses was done, and shes more than alright with it

- so it shocked you when she asked for a kiss

- "really?" she looked away, "it's okay if you don't want to-" but you've cut her off with a long-awaited kiss

- she kissed her almost immediately, arms around your neck while yours was around her waist

- she was all giddy and a whole zoo circus was in her stomach, pulling away for air then coming back for more

- when the two of you pulled away, you felt haerin about to close in on you again, chuckling in amusement as she tilts her head in a questioning manner "what's wrong?"

- "you were about to kiss me again." "oh." you smiled, "do you really like to kiss me that much?" she nodded, a smile gracing her lips, "yes."

broken records hi i just came back from my friend's house and turns out fedex needed my appearance for the delivery 😀