#DO YOU MEAN OVER TEXT OR IN PERSON & IS IT LAME OF ME TO CLARIFY (yes)

[callixton]

my main issue w grindr is that i have no idea how to respond to people when i don’t have a quick straightforward answer. i feel like every conversation on there is a puzzle & i am missing so many pieces

[judasofsuburbia]

Jonathan Byers might be the stupidest person on the planet. Because why...WHY did he ask Steve Harrington to model for his photography final? Why did he think he would ever be able to focus enough to capture what he needs to? Why did he wait until the last week of the semester and now, there's no time to ask anyone else and he doesn't want to hurt Steve's feelings—

“Hey,” Steve says, interrupting Jonathan's thought spiral. “Is this where you want me?” 

Jonathan looks up from his clipboard and camera to see Steve standing on top of the stool. Jonathan had sent him away with a costume he borrowed from the drama department and hadn't heard him come back in.

Steve is dressed in a toga. The crossbody strap is smaller than it would be on anyone else across his broad, hairy chest. The end of the toga rests delicately on his upper thighs, an inch away from being too short. Steve has quaffed his beautiful hair up and a plastic, golden crown of leaves sits amongst the brunette locks.

All of the moisture in Jonathan's mouth evaporates as he takes in Steve in this, what should have been, almost ridiculous outfit. Instead, Steve is absolutely striking in it and Jonathan is going to lose his mind before he even gets the lights set up.

“Uh, yeah, just hold there,” Jonathan croaks so he clears his throat. “I still have some things to set up.”

“Cool,” Steve replies simply. He shifts from foot to foot, tied up in lacy sandals. He looks around the studio that Jonathan has set up and smiles.

“Excited to see you do your thing,” Steve says. Jonathan trips over a cable.

“What?”

Steve glances over his shoulder and his face is so genuine when he says, “I wanna see you in the zone, you know?”

Jonathan blinks and ducks his head. “In the zone,” he repeats lamely.

“Yeah,” Steve smiles. “I mean, I've seen you take pictures before but never all done up like this. And this concept is really cool, I hope I can do it justice.“

Jonathan's assignment was to take from an existing piece of art, something not photography related, and recreate it. He's always been fascinated by the coliseums and marble statues of Greece, all the Gods and warriors of that time. As he was researching, the only thing that came to his mind was “Steve, Steve, Steve” and before he could even think twice, he shot him a text asking for his help. 

“You will, man,” Jonathan barely speaks above a mumble. 

Steve hums a song Jonathan doesn't know in the silence that follows. Jonathan finishes setting up all the lights and drawing the curtains of the room. He tries to pull up the screen behind Steve but can't get it to sit on the designated pole.

Steve reaches over him, his stomach resting on Jonathan's shoulder, and hooks the screen into place. Jonathan glances up at Steve's towering figure and swallows dryly. His muscular arm is bulging, his head is cast in the light from behind them like an angel. 

Steve winks and says, “You can put me to work, Byers. I don't mind.”

Jonathan's not sure that the thing that tumbles out of his lips is a laugh, per se, more like a weak, nasally huff of air. But he can't focus on that right now because he needs to stop breathing in Steve's cologne. He escapes to the other side of the room.

“You're going to be doing plenty today, I promise,” Jonathan responds while he sets up a little table next to his camera for his notes. “Why don't we start with you sitting?”

Steve sits on the stool with his legs spread, not even realizing that he's near exposing himself through the skirt. Jonathan squeaks and Steve glances down. 

“Oh shit,” Steve says, crossing his ankles. “Not used to that happening.”

“It's fine, I didn't see anything,” Jonathan mumbles, writing down nothing on his clipboard of notes. 

“I didn't go full commando under here,” Steve clarifies with a small laugh. “I'm just glad I wore white boxers today--”

And yeah, Jonathan didn't need that image either. He starts adjusting his camera on the tripod and says, “Sorry, I should have been more clear about your costume.”

“Nah man, it's alright. I kinda dig it. If we shoot outside, I'm sure the breeze will feel so good.”

Outside? No, Jonathan can't see Steve basking in the sun like this. He wouldn't survive that.

“Gonna have to settle for the AC, I'm afraid,” Jonathan says with a fumbling laugh. “Okay, first shot. I'm thinking you tilt your legs to the side, almost like you're lounging on the stool. Then pop the shoulder closer to the wall up while keeping the other down. Look up at the ceiling.”

Steve follows his instructions but he tilts his whole head up instead of just his eyes. 

“Chin down a bit, look with the eyes.”

“Like this?” Steve asks, voice innocent though it runs hot through Jonathan's ears.

Jonathan looks through his viewfinder to see Steve absolutely glowing. His brown eyes holding so much casual emotion that it tugs at Jonathan's heart. 

“Mhm. Perfect,” Jonathan captures a few shots like that before directing him to the next shot. And the one after.

Steve nails it over and over again, looking exactly like the ethereal Gods and tragic heroes Jonathan read about. Jonathan keeps telling him he's doing amazing, that he looks amazing. He can see Steve try to fight off his smile for the sake of not ruining the shot. Jonathan wonders if he could shoot that smile someday just for the sake of letting him be happy.

“You're going to give me a big head,” Steve says when they take a break. 

“Please,” Jonathan scoffs. “You already have one.”

Steve pouts playfully when he's done sipping his water. “I'm better than I was.”

Jonathan shakes his head with a fond smile. He looks at Steve directly and says, “Yeah, you are.”

Steve's lips part in surprise but then he quickly tilts his head away, sipping more water. Steve tsks. “Compliment after compliment, Byers. I should be your model more often.”

Jonathan's cheeks burn hot. “Yeah, yeah, tell your friends. C'mon, let's get back to it.”

The new few shots require Steve to show off his muscles which had to have been an idea of a deliriously horny Jonathan Byers. He could kill that guy.

“Okay, hold your hands up and behind your head. Then, uh,” Jonathan stammers, “Flex your arms for me.”

Steve raises his eyebrows but he does flex. It's not that Steve Harrington is absolutely shredded; rather, he has the toned muscles of a casual jock. He just cares about his body and his strength. It doesn't make it any less debilitating to witness. 

“G-good, that's good,” Jonathan mumbles.

“You good, Byers?” Steve asks. His smirk grows less subtle every fleeting second it takes for Jonathan to respond. “Wishing for someone more buff?”

“No,” Jonathan defends immediately. “No, uh, no, you're good. Great, even.” 

“What should I do with my face?” Steve asks.

“Keep it smug like that,” Jonathan says, a little bite to his words that comes from the roaring zoo currently in his stomach.

“Smug,” Steve scoffs, voice still teasing. “Just trying to figure you out.”

Jonathan ignores that, he does not need to be figured out today and especially not by Steve Harrington.

He takes the shot and instructs Steve to hold one arm up to the side while the other pretends to hold something. Steve stands awkwardly, clenching and unclenching the fist that's supposed to be acting right now. 

“Can you show me?” Steve asks. 

“Sure,” Jonathan says. He rounds the camera and is about to demonstrate making an “O” with his fist but Steve holds out his hand and Jonathan doesn't think before he takes it. He shapes Steve's fingers gently and places his arm outstretched to his side. Steve just watches him. 

“Should I actually hold something?” Steve asks.

“No, I'm gonna edit something in later,” Jonathan explains, awkwardly dropping Steve's hand because he realizes he's still holding it. 

“Like what?”

“I can't decide if it's going to be a sword or a lightning bolt. Armor, maybe,” Jonathan shrugs then looks up at Steve who is beaming at him.

“You can do that?” 

“Y-yeah. Photoshop and all.” 

“That's so fucking sick,” Steve exclaims. “You're gonna send these to me, right?”

“Yeah, if you want,” Jonathan says.

“Of course, I want,” Steve assures. ”Not only because you're making me into some Greek god but also because it's your art and it's fucking cool.“

“Thanks,” Jonathan breathes.

Steve reaches the posed hand up and pinches Jonathan's chin. Jonathan can feel every nerve vibrate as Steve's fingers fall away too soon. Steve gives him a curious look but returns his hand to the pose. Jonathan shuffles back behind the camera and continues shooting the pictures.

Steve showcases different smolders that make Jonathan's stomach tighten but he keeps pressing the button, keeps seeing how far Steve will go without his instruction. 

“What if I shot my arm back like I'm about to throw it?” Steve asks, demonstrating his point. 

Jonathan's eyes trail up his torso to the arm in question and he swallows. “Mhm. That looks really good.”

Steve's lips turn upward and he whispers, “So do you, Byers.”

Jonathan's whole body freezes. His finger trembles over the button but his mind is so blank that he can't tell it to push. Steve keeps glancing at him but Jonathan's not registering it. 

Steve coughs awkwardly and mumbles, “Just tell me to fuck off, man.”

That gets Jonathan's brain back online. “What?”

Steve jumps, not realizing that Jonathan was actually listening. He drops his stance and rolls his shoulders back, bones popping as he does. He sighs and says meekly, “If you don't like me flirting with you, just tell me to stop and I will.”

Flirting? Flirting. 

“You're flirting with me?” Jonathan asks, exasperated. 

“I was trying to,” Steve explains, a sheepish look on his face. “But it's obvious you're not into it so--”

“Wait…no, hold on, I honestly thought you were messing with me,” Jonathan admits, walking around the camera again. Steve steps down from the stool to be at eye level with him and Jonathan swoons a little in their new proximity. 

“I do love messing with you,” Steve confirms. “But no, Byers, I’ve been flustered all day having you stare at me and do your hot artist thing. That’s not a joke.”

“Really?” Jonathan whispers, his skin flushed. 

“Really,” Steve whispers back.

"I am into it," Jonathan responds quietly.

"Yeah?"

"Put you into a toga because I'm so into it--" Jonathan doesn't finish this sentence because Steve is kissing him and he would much rather be kissing Steve than talking.

With the curtains drawn and the studio booked for the rest of the afternoon, Jonathan finds himself in Steve's lap with Steve's tongue in his mouth. He decides about two seconds in that he's got enough pictures for the day.

[boyfhee]

⌕ TAKE TWO ━━ 09 : the line between friends and more

PRECIS. while riki constantly assured you that him being an idol under a different label wouldn't be an issue in your relationship, you start getting second thoughts when fans start shipping him with his co-mc at music bank.

w. slight angst ? screenshots at the end

wc. ~ 1k, screenshots at the end

“don’t you think this is a bit rude?” riki sighs, taking a last look at his texts with miya before discarding the phone somewhere behind him. “i mean, about telling her to mind her own business and all,” 

and his words almost make you roll your eyes all the way to japan and back. “what’s rude is her assuming that we broke up, probably even jinxing it,”  

you know you sound stupid right now, but that’s what love does to everyone. for a brief second, you did think the message was too much. perhaps, she was only being kind, maybe it’s her nature to look out for everyone, you could’ve been reading things wrong; but again, your instincts told you otherwise, and riki would never send her those texts on his own, so you decided to do it yourself. 

“so,” he says over the silence looming over the two of you, “are we breaking up?” 

“riki, i know better than breaking up with you over someone who i don’t even know,” you clarify. “maybe, i was a bit too upset when i said that,” quite honestly, the actual reason why you wouldn’t break up lies somewhere amidst the pettiness hiding behind your eyes. you wouldn’t even think about breaking up with riki because you love him enough to try and make your relationship work, but somewhere in your mind you know that if you had to break up, it wouldn’t be because of miya, or someone else. 

you’re too prideful for your own good, and thoughts of losing him to someone else doesn’t help you with it any better. 

riki doesn’t say anything for the next few minutes, busy fiddling with his fingers or the words on the tip of his tongue. it’s fine, you think, silence is better than disagreement that ultimately leads to arguments. for a brief second, you wonder if he’s upset. whether he thinks you’re so insecure that you can’t stand him next to other girls, that you don’t trust him at all, how your mind is too shallow for thinking such things about your own boyfriend. it could be anything, and fortunately, you happen to have the answers to all his questions. 

though, you’re afraid he won’t, when it’ll be your turn to ask. 

“can i say something?” he sighs before looking into your eyes. 

and you nod, “go on,”

“why do you hate miya?” it’s a question you’ve been asking yourself as well, something you’ve also been avoiding. you don’t think you’re wrong in your stance, nor do you think your point of view is lacking logically or reasonably. anyone in their right mind would do the same if they feel that their significant other is deviating towards a third person, and in fact, you haven’t done anything yet, while there are a hundred things you wish you could do. 

“i don’t hate her, i hate how you put her above me, or even your group members.” it sounds more of an excuse, but you know he’ll end up believing it. your words aren’t half wrong, you don’t think you hate miya. she’s an excellent singer, is good at what she does. you respect her from an idol-point-of-view, and you would’ve even lent a hand for friendship if it weren’t for the current situation. you don’t want to assume anything so you pick the words that would make you seem less like a hater, if he’s perceiving you as one. 

“i don’t—”

“think about it yourself,” you interject before he even gets to complete his sentence. “riki we’ve never had fights about missed calls but you meet her and suddenly, you’re tending to her as if your life depends on her. you miss practices to see her, and even we’ve never done that for each other,”  

when you and riki started dating, the first rule was to put your relationship above everything, and then your respective careers above your relationship. it sounds lame, you know, but you knew from the beginning that you would choose him above everything else, unless it lands between him and your dream of becoming an idol that you’ve finally been living. 

“if she’s a friend, then treat her like one,” thinking about it now, you don’t think you hate miya because she might steal your boyfriend, but instead, you hate her because he does everything for her that has been stamped as ‘prohibited’ in your relationship.

maybe, you just wanted him to realise that there's a line between being a friend and being something more. “don’t make her think that she could be something more,” 

silence takes over again.

you wonder if you said something wrong, for his eyes have traveled away from yours, residing in some corner of the room. you ask yourself if things would’ve been better if you hadn’t showed up at the dorms out of the blues instead of waiting till the evening. maybe that way, you would have had better things to say, ones that wouldn’t sound so cold, perhaps the ones that would’ve also consoled your heart along with his. 

“yeah,” he mutters, he sounds more like a hum. riki doesn’t say more, you don’t think he can figure out words to say and somewhere inside, you know you are at fault but, again, someone had to take the initiative and talk this out before things got out of hand. 

“anyway, we should order a takeout. i’m hungry,” you take an attempt at switching topics, hoping it would lighten the atmosphere between the two of you. “should we invite jungwon with us? after all, we gave him a hard time with our problems,” 

“uh, i don’t know,” you miss the hesitation laced in his voice. 

“texted him, he’ll be here in ten,” there’s an impromptu smile on your face, and this time, riki wonders if you would be able to answer the questions that you had asked him earlier, or if you would be able to follow your own advice when it comes to jungwon. 

PREV | NEXT | MASTERLIST

note : HI I AM NOT DEAD THANK YOU.

[kaitsawamura]

would you like to stay forever?

SUMMARY⎮   Sparring with Pro Hero Kirishima Eijiro in his private gym at his home doesn't seem like a bad idea if you don't count the fact that you really, really like him.

STATS⎮ minors do not interact, 18+ ⎮  Rating: M (for mature)  ⎮  WC: 5525  ⎮   Pairing: Pro Hero Kirishima Eijiro x Fem!Reader  ⎮   Tags: Aged Up Character(s), Friends to Lovers, Sparring, Smut, Fluff, Age/Experience Gap (if you really squint)  ⎮  AO3

NOTES⎮  Thanks to @spacelabrathor​ for listening to me scream about this and to @some-kindofgnome​ for fueling my Kiri fever dreams.  Yes, that title is based on a Mulan quote. This whole fic was based on THIS POST and Kirishima seemed like the perfect character for this pwp.  Hope y'all enjoy!  (Also please for the love of God, click on the banner to see in HD if you’re on mobile, it looks so much better lol)

It was Saturday and even though you’re on your way to becoming a Pro Hero, you can think of several things you’d rather be doing with your one day off than going to Kirishima Eijiro’s house to spar.  But here you are pulling into his driveway, going over combat moves in your head as if your life depended on it.  They weren’t really serving their purpose which was to distract yourself.  Kiri had offered up his personal gym, encouraged you to stop by with one hand in his pocket and the other rubbing the back of his neck as if he was nervous.  

A couple of his friends had already taken him up on the offer.  You were the only one he’d offered who hadn’t come over yet.  He had texted you a couple of weeks later saying he was starting to take it personally…  and then immediately texted with a laughing emoji just to clarify he was only giving you a hard time.  It brings a smile to your face now as you remember it.  Yesterday he had also clarified it would just be the two of you if you were self-conscious sparring in front of other people.  You’d have the whole place to yourselves.  Like that should mean something.  Which it did.  It does , you realize with butterflies growing in your stomach.  Kiri doesn’t need to know that though.

The two of you had been toeing around something since you had been hired at Fatgum’s Agency a year ago.  Neither of you had made a move.  Kirishima, the Red Riot, was a big Pro Hero and while you took pride in your quirk, it didn’t hold a coin to some of the others you’d come in contact with.  It had surprised you when Toyomitsu had brought you on.  But he had mumbled something about “liking your spunk” and that he thought a teleportation quirk would be a useful one to add to his agency.  The first day you had shown up, Kiri had immediately caught your eye.  Not for the obvious reasons.  Obvious reasons being the fact that he was climbing the Pro Hero charts or the fact that he had a dynamically interesting quirk or that at twenty-five he was already built like a brickhouse. 

Those were all valid reasons, yes, but what had pulled you in was his smile and his genuine interest in you outside of your quirk.  But he was just like that you had quickly discovered.  He knew everyone’s coffee order and what they liked for lunch.  He knew when to push and when to back off.  He knew when to talk and when to listen , knew when he still had a lesson to learn.  The kids flocked to him.  Even now you’re still entirely convinced that’s actually his quirk, getting people to like him.  It’s not a difficult thing to do though.

Your brain stutters back to the present when a text notification pings from your cell phone as you sit in Kiri’s driveway, picking at non-existent lint on your gym shorts.  The cute ones you’re still convincing yourself were your only clean pair and that’s the only reason you wore them.

KIRI : i saw u pull up, u gonna come in or what 😂

Had he been waiting for you to get there?  You tapped out a quick response, one that hid the little flip in your stomach at the thought: creeper, you were watching for me lmao

Response bubbles immediately flash on your phone screen but you’re angling out of your car and shutting the door before he can reply.

Somehow, this house fits Kiri perfectly.  It isn’t big.  You had seen pictures of other top-ranking Pros’ houses.  Enji Todoroki’s house, for example, was fucking ridiculous.  But even without a massive floor plan, Kiri’s house is nicer than any you’d been in for some time.  Clean, straight lines and lots of windows.  In fact, you can see straight through the floor-to-ceiling windows out to his backyard when you reach the front door.  Is that a pool ?  Kiri had tons of fun showing pictures at the agency; it was a well-deserved investment for his already multiple years of service as a Pro.  The pictures hadn’t done the place justice though.

Kiri comes to the door, throwing it wide open with a huge grin that shows off his sharp teeth.  You ignore the way your mouth goes dry as he drags you in, babbling on like an excited little kid at you actually coming.

“I really thought you were gonna back out!  I mean, that would have been fine, of course.  I just can’t see the point of having the whole place to myself all the time.”  He’s irresistibly cute, walking around showing you the living room and the kitchen and pointing out to the backyard where, yes, there is indeed a pool.  “You can come over any time and use that too if you want!”  You thank him, warmth pooling in your stomach at how incredibly nice he is.

“Uh, we should probably get in the gym.  I have… stuff to do later,” you finish lamely.  You don’t have anything to do later but very quickly you’re realizing how far out of your depth you are here.  The familiar beginnings of the head over heels fall is washing over you in steady waves.  But you’re coworkers and the thought of coming to work every day and having to see his adorable face and not doing anything about it is almost making you nauseous.

“Oh, yeah, it’s just down the hallway,” he rumbles, leading the way and you follow trying and failing miserably to calm the nerves flashing through your veins.  You’re here alone with Kiri , the man you’ve been crushing on since you’d started working with him a year ago.  And now your stupid brain isn’t just thinking about what it would feel like to run your tongue along his teeth or how his hands would feel between your legs.  No, your stupid brain is thinking about what Kiri looks like when he first opens his eyes in the morning.

Your one-track mind is not getting any help, especially when Kiri walks through the doorway of the gym addition and immediately proceeds to pull his shirt up and over his shoulders and tosses it to the side.  Shit.  His back muscles ripple with the movement and when he turns to face you, it’s heart-wrenchingly obvious that he has no idea the effect he’s having on you.  He has to know .  Doesn’t he?  From your end, it seems wildly obvious that someone as good-looking as him should know .  

You glance around, eternally grateful for the fact that the gym is also attractive.  Floor to ceiling windows span two of the walls here as well and there’s a large set of French doors leading out to the yard.  You find yourself actually in awe when you get a better look at the landscaping.  It’s so green .  There’s a small patch of lawn but the rest is just artfully arranged native flora and fauna.  Violets, tulips.  Huge hosta plants.  And cherry trees heavy with their signature sakura blossoms.  

“Kiri, it’s beautiful!”  He comes to stand beside you, looking out the French doors as well.

“You like it?  I guess it is pretty nice, huh?”  You glance up at him, your chest expanding on a lurch looking at his smile.  You’d never noticed before but he has a light dusting of freckles across his nose.

“Yeah, really nice.”  You look out again, letting the silence grow until it feels like the most comfortable thing in the world.  After what seems like an eternity Kiri clears his throat, rocking back on the balls of his feet.  “What are you thinking for today?”  The question leaves your lips and you’re immediately regretting it; your stomach flips again when Kiri looks at you like you’re prey.

“Close combat, hand-to-hand combat.  You did mention a while ago you wanted to strengthen that, right?”  You throw your head back, rolling your eyes, and groan.  The two of you make your way to the center of the mat.

“Yeah, I mean, I’d be scared to take me on too,” Kiri says, large hands on even larger hips.   He isn’t as tall as some of the other heroes at six foot three inches but he’s wide , thick.  You know for a fact you couldn’t wrap your arms around his waist and have your hands meet.  He’s wearing the biggest shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen.  The sharpened points of his canines are out and on prominent display.   Famous last words you think as a snarl erupts on your face.

“I’m not scared , Kiri.  I just don’t want to wear you out .  You’re a Pro Hero.  You’re on the job a lot more than I am.  Plus, you’re getting kind of old.  Is that a little gray I see coming in?”  Kiri bares his teeth even more but it’s not lost on you that he quickly reaches up to rake his fingers through his hair.  There isn’t any gray, obviously , but the thought has Red Riot distracted.  Distracted enough that when you plant your feet and your fist connects with his face, your knuckles hit skin and not the reinforced rock of his quirk.

“ Shit.”  Kiri takes a step back, reaching up to cradle his jaw.  His tongue swipes out to lick at the blood on his bottom lip.  His vermillion eyes find yours and if you didn’t work with him on a regular basis, you would have felt fear at this moment.  You know he wouldn’t hurt you but even now, a thrill races through your veins like electricity.  He looks as if he’s going to devour you.  You take your own step back, readying your quirk, reaching out to it as your fists hold their position in front of your body.  A dark chuckle spills from his chest as Kiri calls on his own quirk.

Now it was your turn to be distracted; you had always been fascinated by Kiri’s quirk, the way his body looked when it hardened up.  The ripples of muscle still visible under the toughened skin.  The divots and ridges and how they mapped their way across his shoulders and chest and abdomen.  You knew how it felt to the touch in fake combat.  The Fatgum heroes all took pride in maintaining a healthy routine; sparring was a common workout that was previously done at a local public gym.  You wonder absently what it would feel like to touch him slow and at the moment.  When you could give extra attention with extra time. 

Kiri closes the space between the two of you at the moment your mind strays and you barely are able to teleport out of the way to avoid him crashing into you.  You try to take a swipe at him as you materialize from in front of him to behind but this time he’s ready for you and he’s using his quirk.  Instead of moving out of the way, he plants his feet and allows your punch to hit.  Pain radiates up through your fingers and wrist.  It always irritated you that you had to prepare yourself to strike Kiri when he was using his quirk.  Otherwise, you’d be in for a whole lot of hurt every time you landed a punch.

Teleportation is a pretty handy quirk.  It gives you a pretty good advantage the more you work on your close combat skills.  The trick with Kiri was to keep going at him until he ran out of energy.  You hadn’t gotten to that point yet; your quirk had its limits as well.  You were only two years out of UA, Kiri was out by seven.  His strength was already fairly unmatched; sparring with him was always good practice.  You relish the thought of the day you can win a sparring session without tapping out.  It surges through you like pure energy.  

You teleport to stand in front of him again, shifting your weight into your hips and up through your right hook.  This time your fist connects with Kiri’s side and he lets out a small grunt.  Your fingers don’t hurt so bad this time and by the time Kiri is retaliating, you jump back a few feet.  He hmms, a sound that reverberates from his chest.

“That’s all well and good but how do you expect to do anything if you jump that far away?”  He lunges forward at a running start, leaping at the last second, sending his gloved fist into your stomach.  You were fast, but still not always fast enough.  You double over, the air rushing from your lungs and your pre-workout protein smoothie threatening to exit back the way it went in.  Sweat is already beading on your brow and sliding under your tank top.  You take a few breaths through your nose when an idea pops into your head; you stay bent over.  “Hey, I didn’t hit you that hard.  You good?”  

Kiri comes to stand in front of you, leaving him vulnerable.  He can’t see your smirk until it’s too late.  You wail on him, using some of the basic combos he’s taught you before today.  Satisfaction rolls through you when he actually takes a step back.  But then he puts his arms up in front of him, clenching his abdomen and bending inward to protect his core.  He drops just a fraction and before you realize what’s happening, he’s swiping his leg out to push through yours.  You watch in slow motion as you see his laughing face then the ceiling of the gym as you flip and land on your back.

If you thought you were out of breath before…  “Fuuu-.”  It’s a wheeze that feels like it’s ripping your chest open.  You’re seeing stars.  Kiri stands over you, hands on his hips again.  You stare at his face; the hero has his hair pulled back into a bun.  You snort, rolling your eyes.  Why does he still look so fucking good?  The sweat has caused some of the pieces falling out of his hair tie to curl.  His hair has curl to it?  You’ve never noticed before, considering he always gels it into spikes.  You like the curl.  “Are you--are you gonna help me up, or what?”  It was still painful to talk.

Kiri tilts his head to the side, just slightly, and crosses his arms.  “I’m thinking not.  Last time I let down my guard you got those good combos in.”  You stare in stunned silence, sitting up so you’re supported by your elbows.  Kiri shifts slightly and if you didn’t know better, you’d say he’s backing up to… get a better view.   

“Is that any way to treat your student,  Red Riot?”  You know you get under his skin when he clicks his tongue against his teeth and holds out a hand with a begrudging eye roll.  He pulls you up with ease, quickly enough that you almost lose your balance, swaying into his space.  You look up, eyes moving back and forth between his.  

He draws in a breath and drags his bottom lip between his teeth.  “First of all,” he says as he places his hands on your upper arms, “I’m not your teacher.  I’m not that much older than you.  Secondly,” he mutters as he tucks a stray lock of hair behind your ear, “our relationship isn’t that formal is it?”  He’s so fucking close.  This is getting dangerous.  Dangerous because Kiri is within kissing distance.  Dangerous because this gentle side of him is making you lose more breath than falling on your ass.  Dangerous because the thought of Kiri taking you on the floor right now is almost too much to bear.  

So you fall back on what you’re here to do.  Fight.  You flash him a wicked smile before rallying your quirk and teleporting a few feet away.  His hand is still raised in mid-air and when his head whips to look in your direction, his crimson eyes are narrowed and his nostrils are flared.  He laughs and rolls his neck, dancing on his toes.

“Okay.  I see.  I’m not gonna go easy on you, you know?”  You snort and put your fists up in front of you again.

“As if you were going easy on me before, Kiri.  Bring it on.”  He smiles, the sharp points of his teeth enough to make your thoughts swerve again before you bring them under control.  “Bring it on,” you whisper more to yourself as you brace for the fight.

Two hours later, you feel the strain in your muscles.  Your quirk is running low on reserves and you know you won’t be able to use it much more.  Kiri looks like he hasn’t wasted a breath but you can see he’s getting tired in the way his feet don’t move as sharply.  And if the length of time he’s using his quirk is any indication to his state of mind, you know the two of you will be calling it a day soon.  But you’re also both stubborn.  And you’re dying to get one more good move in on him.

The cockiness the two of you had at the beginning of the sparring session hasn’t gone away but has burned hot into determination.  No more smiles, only clear-headed concentration.  The two of you are an arm's length from each other, throwing various punches and switching quickly between using your quirks and not.  You’re breathing hard, sweat gathering at your brow as you throw another right hook that Kiri easily blocks.

“Get out of your head.  You can be too predictable sometimes.”  He doesn’t mean for it to come across as rude but the words strike a match to a guttering fire.  You bare your own teeth at Kiri even though they aren’t sharp and probably don’t look nearly as threatening but it helps you feel powerful nonetheless.  You drop without a second thought, lowering to your palms and sweeping your leg out in front of you in a wide arc.  A grin spreads across your face when your calf meets Kiri’s ankle.  He’s too physically dense for this move to work if he had seen it coming.  But he doesn’t.  And his solid 220 pounds of muscle falls hard.  

You allow yourself the satisfaction of the moment for only a split second; Kiri’s recovery time is much shorter than yours so it isn’t long before he’s scrambling forward.  He goes straight for your wrists to subdue you but with a smirk, you realize in his haste he’s put himself in the perfect position for you to possibly gain the upper hand.  You scoot up away from him just enough to drag his arm forward and swing your legs around his neck.  Then you elevate your hips and lock your core.

It’s over from there as you squeeze with every last ounce of strength left in your body.  It doesn’t take long for him to tap out.  You release as soon as you feel his loose hand tap your arm; he collapses over you and you’re too tired to move away or push him off.  Now his breathing is rough and you feel a surge of pride.  You reach up and place your hand on his head where his bun has come undone; he’s so heavy but it doesn’t feel bad.  In fact, the feel of Kirishima resting his head and upper chest on your stomach is feeling nothing short of good .  He’s still between your legs and suddenly the air is crackling with a new kind of energy when you gently comb your fingers through his hair.

He rises up, his hands on either side of you.  His hips rest between your legs; the mingled heat radiating from both of you is almost more than you can take but there is no way you’re going to move anywhere.  He leans forward, so close you can see the flecks of burnt orange in his eyes.  If you moved forward just a little, you could close that space between you.  He leans down more, his mouth right next to the shell of your ear.

“Maybe not always predictable.  You did good today.  Probably some of the best fighting I’ve seen from you so far.  Keep it up.”  He grunts, a shift of his hips allowing the curve of his cock to brush against your clothed sex through his gym shorts.  He stiffens in what you think might be embarrassment.  “Shit, sorry, let me just, uh--”  The stuttering mess he becomes right before your eyes makes something lurch in your chest; you reach for his face without thinking.

“Kiri,” you whisper, rolling your own hips against his.  His cheeks are burning a shade of red almost as vibrant as his hair.  You bring up your other hand, holding his face between them and bringing him down to settle over you once more.  Your lips meet his; he seems to war with himself for just a moment.  A suspended second in time.  But then he gives in, slipping his tongue against yours in a delicious sliding vision of what’s coming.

He reaches between you to slip his hand under your tank top; his hand is big and nearly encompasses your side.  But it’s warm and gentle.  Gentle.  Who would have guessed that Red Riot could be so fucking gentle?  But he is and when his hand moves lower to slide below the hem of your shorts, you give yourself to him with no reservations.  His middle finger passes through the mess of your sex; a hissed breath rattles through his chest as your back arches on a ragged groan.

“ Shit.  You’re so wet .”  He slides his finger back and forth, gathering your slick on the thick digit.  He takes his hand away and you mewl.  “Can I?”  He asks breathlessly as he hooks his hands on the hem of your shorts.  You nod, eyes half-lidded.  He pulls them down along with your underwear and the way he looks at you, at what’s between your legs, you don’t even have the wherewithal to feel self-conscious.  Adoration.  It’s the only word you can think of and it makes you wonder if you’d made a mistake waiting so long.

He’s on his knees when he takes your legs and drapes them on either side of his hips; this time he doesn’t hesitate in slipping his finger into your cunt.  You nearly see stars just from that and if one finger is any indication, you’re in for it.  Slowly, he adds another, his hand pumping into you in a steady rhythm.  You’re grabbing for the ground, grabbing for him as a strangled noise pushes from your throat.  He reaches out with his other hand to splay it across your sternum and it’s the only thing anchoring you as he adds the third finger before scooting down to put his mouth on your clit.

“ Kiri,” you keen, shoving your hips into his touch, frantically scrabbling for his wrist that’s on your chest just to have something to hold on to.  He’s done this before, he’s had to.  He’s too good.  Too fucking good.  Already there’s coiling in your gut as incomprehensible words tumble from your mouth.  “Shit.  Shit.  Kiri I’m--I’m gonna--”  He rumbles approvingly against your clit; the vibrations send you closer and closer to the edge and when it crests, your back arches near pain as you cry out, your voice echoing in the gym.  It’s deep, roaring through all of your limbs but  Kiri keeps going, fingers still pumping, tongue still swirling around your sensitive nub.

Another orgasm breaks over you sharp and quick and the overstimulation has your legs quaking as your arousal gushes over Kiri’s hand and tongue.  But then he’s moving again, and you’re blearily aware that he’s shoving his own shorts and boxers past his hips to free his cock.  You stare as it bounces back to sit near the planes of his stomach; it’s already leaking steadily with precum.  Kiri looks back at you and when your eyes meet, you dart your tongue out between your lips to wet them.  Another time, maybe.  

Kiri leans forward to lift you up and the closer you get you can barely see any red in his eyes; his pupils are blown, his nostrils flared as he lifts you like you weigh nothing .  He could snap you like a twig.  But he won’t.  You know without a doubt this is the safest you’ve ever felt, even as he lowers you slowly over his cock and it does feel like you’re being split .

“ Fuuuck…”  You wrap your legs around him, your mouth dropped open, your hands gripping his shoulders.  You try not to dig your nails in but it’s almost impossible with how you’re being filled.  You knew Kiri was big but this was almost too much.  His forehead drops to yours as he pants.  But he’s not moving, won’t move until you tell him to.  It makes your heart ache and your cunt floods, drunk on the affection thrumming through your veins.  You roll your hips experimentally and the friction is bliss.  “Oh fuck, ohfuck.”  You move again, pushing yourself up and back down, listening to the hitch in his breathing.  “ Kiri, please, ” you whisper.  Those words… they’re enough.

Kirishima grips you by the hips, his fingers splayed and digging into the flesh; it’ll leave bruises and the knowledge cracks through you like electricity.  Let him leave marks.  Let him leave them everywhere.  He’s moving you up and down his cock, grunting, mumbling.  “Tell me, Kiri, tell me.”  His eyes meet yours again and his own mouth drops open.

“Fuck, you’re so good.  S’ tight.  Jesus, I-- ” Kiri moves his hands from your hips to support you as he lays you down on the floor of the gym.  The idea should be questionable but it’s not, it’s fucking not and you can’t concentrate on any other thoughts when Kiri grabs your wrists and pins them gently above your head with one hand while the other comes back to your hip.  He thrusts into you at a brutal pace but… it feels like home and you think in that moment as your cunt begins to seize around his cock that you would give up forever to continue touching him.

“Yes, Kiri, yes.  Right there, right--shit yesyes yes. ”  He pistons up, the veins of his cock rubbing just right and when he releases the grip on your hands, they’re moving to wrap around him on instinct.  He’s planting kisses along your jaw, mouthing up to your lips and back down to graze his teeth over your pulse point.  “Do it, fuckin’ do it, let them know ‘m yours, ” you slur and when he bites down you crash over the edge on a groan that’s really more of a scream.  Everything goes black but you're cradling him to you as his movements become more erratic.  The snapping of his hips is getting sloppier by the second and a steady growl punches from his lungs with each breath.  “Cum, Kirishima, cum inside me.”

He’s never heard those words before and it lights a fire in his veins.  His head is buzzing and then he can’t hear anything as his cock releases and he’s spurting searing hot ropes of cum into your cunt.  He goes until you’ve milked every last drop from him and he’d be lying if he said his world didn't suddenly feel whole.  Finally, his body settles and his chest drops to yours.  Everything slowly bleeds back into focus and somehow, everything seems more colorful than it did moments before.  You’re still clinging to him.

“Kiri.  Kiri, babe, I can’t breathe,” you say and he slowly rises, taking in your blissed-out expression.  Your eyes can barely stay open, your cheeks are flushed.  He backs up to see his handiwork on display, hyper-focused on the trail of the mingling cum dripping from the mess of your sex.  But you’re smiling.  Lazy and tired, completely at ease.  “Wanna take a shower?”  When you nod he doesn’t hesitate in standing to kick his underwear and shorts the rest of the way off his legs and then he’s grabbing you, scooping you into his arms and against his chest.  He pads out of the gym and across the hall to his bathroom where he deposits you on your feet, only after he’s sure you can stand and only long enough to turn the shower head-on.

He puts his hand under the water, waiting for it to get warm.  Steam billows from behind the glass door when he’s turning back to you to remove your tank top and your sports bra.  Thank god you chose the front-closure one today; you didn’t think either one of you wanted to struggle to get one up over your head right now.  When your breasts spill out of the high-impact fabric, you notice with tender amusement that his cock is half-hard again.  His eyes go dark again and he leans in for a kiss.  But it's slow and sweet. 

"You're so fuckin' beautiful," he whispers.  He ignores his arousal, ushering you into the stream of water.  Your care is the only thing that matters to him right now.  The heat slides across your body, and when Kirishima steps up behind you and begins soaping up your shoulders, it feels like heaven .

You take turns washing each other until you’re both blissed out in a different kind of way and the only thing either one of you can think about is sleep.  But the afterglow is fading and doubt is creeping in.  When you step out of the water, you stand awkwardly as Kiri hands you a towel.  “You okay?”  He’s actually concerned and you can’t put your finger on why you’re so fucking grateful for it.

“Yea, just tired.  I should, uh, probably get going.”  Kiri freezes and you think you’ve said something wrong, already crossed a line.  Your brain is like a broken record as the stomach-curdling image of having to see him at the agency flashes across your eyes in vivid detail.  But then he’s stepping into your space and pulling you in for a hug.  A hug.

“Don’t go,” he whispers into the crown of your head and it has you smiling like an idiot against his chest.  His skin smells clean and warm with a hint of spice.  You bury your face further in as you nod against him.  Then he’s leading you to his room, to the king-sized bed.  He peels back the comforter and the white sheets and pulls you in beside him.  Your back is against him and he hooks his foot around your ankles, bringing you even closer.  

He doesn’t say anything more, just lets out a huge sigh as he wraps his arm around you.  The last thing you notice before your eyes flutter shut is how your heartbeats are thumping at the same steady rhythm.  

Late afternoon sunlight slants in Kirishima’s bedroom window, creating interesting patterns across his blanket.  It’s pushed towards the end of the bed, your legs intertwined and tangled in the sheets.  He’s still dozing, his breathing not quite that of someone sleeping but not of a person fully awake.  You reach out to cup his cheek, stroke above his eyebrows, caress his lips with your thumb.  A contented sigh leaves his chest as he grabs your hand and kisses your wrist.  His eyes are open now and he watches you.  You smile at him, snuggling closer, not wanting the moment to end.

“Hey,” he says quietly, suddenly serious.  “I just want you to know, I don’t do this all the time.  I mean, I’ve been with other people before but I don’t…  I don’t really hook up .”  Things start clicking into place as you realize what he’s trying to get across.  He just fucked you stupid in his personal gym and somehow he looks bashful.  And because you love it, you’re not going to help him along.  You just watch, biting your lip to keep from giggling.  “I just.  I guess what I’m trying to say is I like you.  I’ve liked you for a long time.  And normally I would have wined and dined you first but...  Well.  Here we are.  Would you like to stay for dinner?”

That’s the last straw; your laughter comes bubbling out of you and Kiri is leaning back to look at you with a quizzical expression on his face.  “Is something funny?”  That just makes you laugh a little harder but the confused look he’s wearing has you leaning in to press your lips against his.

“I’ve liked you from the first day I met you, Kiri.  I’ll one-up your offer and tell you that I might like to stay forever.”  A grin rips across his face and your heart blooms with warmth and affection.  The world seems full of possibilities but none of them matter except for the possibility laying right in front of you.

[threecrowsinatrenchcoat]

For One More Hour or One More Day

Dukeceit Week Day 6: Horror/Comedy

Remus and Janus work in IT, and Remus never fails to make Janus' life a bit more exciting than it should be. Janus wouldn't have it any other way.

AO3 Link: [here]

Word Count: 1416

Warnings: swearing, typical Remus-levels of implied sexual content. 

@dukeceitweek <3

-

[06032021 Network Node Down- 172.12.203.1 - Dee Why ]

Janus stared at the next ticket in his queue. He didn't even have to look at which tech wrote it. He just knew. He picked up his phone and dialed. 

“'Sup, DeeDee?" 

"Because they use ancient technology and refuse to upgrade, that's why." 

There was a beat of silence on the line. Janus didn't need to see him to know Remus was grinning like a maniac. 

“Oh, JD, I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about," Remus said finally. His voice was laced with barely-contained glee. 

“Uh-huh, sure," Janus replied dryly. He watched on his screen as an incoming call diverted from his in-use line. "Do you want to clarify for me, in excruciating detail, what, exactly, it is that broke this time? After all, if it's something I can fix from here, it would save the company an awful lot of money. And you know how I love saving this company money." 

“You don't feel like taking work calls either, huh?" 

“Ree, I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about."

-

[06142021 CRITICAL | Device failed Availability and Latency checks - Dispatch Requested]

Janus sat in his truck for a few minutes, cross-checking the address across his e-mail, Slack, and the ticket itself. And yeah, they all matched. This wasn’t a repeat of that time Remus had changed the address on the ticket from 96th St. to 69th St. as a joke. 

(Janus had almost gotten mugged. He was still a little salty about that one.)

But this time, all the addresses matched. The problem was, he was parked in front of a restaurant instead of the usual office building, and that just didn’t seem right. He opened up Slack on his phone. 

Janus D’lyre: Are you sure the address is right?

Remus Rey: Yeah, it’s right.

Janus D’lyre: It’s a restaurant. 

Remus Rey:  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Janus D’lyre: Are you positive it’s right?

Remus Rey: I just write the tickets, Dee, I don’t do a background check. Just go in.

Janus sighed. He got out of his truck, hefted his tech bag over his shoulder, and went inside.

It was a nice restaurant. Very fancy, with a goddamn chandelier hanging over the front lobby. Field engineers weren’t required to dress in a suit and tie, but Janus did by habit- and he was glad he did, because he would feel like a horrible slob standing here in jeans and a polo.

“Can I help you?”

Janus looked over to the host, standing at the counter with a bright smile that only looked 52% faked.

“Yes,” Janus answered. “I’m here about the network issues?”

“Oh!” The host- his name tag read ‘Patton’- brightened up a bit. “Yeah! Remus is waiting for you, this way!”

“Remus is what?”

It was too late. Patton had already darted around the counter and off into the dining area. Janus sighed and, regretting every life choice leading up to this exact moment, followed.

Sure enough, Remus was waiting for him. Patton led him to a quieter area of the restaurant, where Remus was sitting at a table. Well, sitting was a generous way to phrase it, because in reality, he was tipped back on the rear two legs of the chair, combat boot-clad feet up on the table. He jumped up eagerly at the sight of Janus, and somehow managed not to fall backwards and crack his skull open. 

“Hey! You made it! Thanks, Pat!” 

“No problemo!” the host replied with a grin before heading back to the front counter. Janus briefly considered that he might be having a fever dream right now.

“Remus, what the fuck?” 

“Told you it was the right address!”

Janus glared. “That is not what I’m ‘what the fuck’-ing you about.”

“I mean, I’d prefer me fucking you-”

“Remus.”

“Well, you work so hard, DeeDee,” Remus said calmly, as if he wasn’t standing in the middle of the fanciest restaurant on this side of town, dressed in his usual tank-top and leather vest combo and probably mashing dirt into the plush red carpet, and definitely doing something that should get him fired. “I thought you could take a break, and we could have a nice dinner.”

No, he wasn’t doing something that should get him fired. He was doing something that should get them both fired. 

“You’re joking, right?”

“Kinda a lame joke.”

“Remus, you had me dispatched to a random address for a fake problem, to have dinner with you on company time?”

“‘Course not, who do you think I am?”

Janus did not dignify that with an answer. He turned to walk away.

“Jannie, wait!” Remus darted around the table to get in front of him. Janus stopped, and glared. “This is Roman’s restaurant! It’s not a random address, he’s an actual client.”

Janus’ glare lessened. Ok, sure, they did have some smaller commercial clients. And sure, Remus had mentioned his brother’s restaurant was using them as tech support now after a bad experience with a different company. But- “It’s still a fake problem, Remus.”

A shit-eating grin spread across Remus’ face. “Nah. I unplugged the router.”

Janus snorted in a totally dignified manner. “You didn’t.”

“I did.”

“...Well, I suppose… I’d better investigate the issue. Couldn’t be solved remotely, hardware problem and all.”

Remus held out a hand. Janus took it, and let Remus lead him back to the table.

“Great, cause I already ordered!”

-

[06192021 Switch is problematic. Unable to get into the switch || Serial No. 111-0203-2018]

Janus very calmly cleared the ticket, set his work phone to away, pulled out his personal phone, and sent Remus a text. 

Jannie-D: I know you’re upset I didn’t let you fuck me last night. Get over it. 

Remster: i will not 

- 

Virgil Caligo: yo are u and remus like good?

Janus D’lyre: We had a small argument last night. Why?

Virgil Caligo: [image attached]

Janus sighed. Virgil had sent him a screenshot of a ticket update Remus had just posted.

[06292021 Ticket #00679 Update.] ‘The device is not only unresponsive to simple ping requests, but is being kind of a jerk about it. 100% package loss, a tragedy. Device was confirmed to be connected to a working power source, but they all say that, so who can really be sure. Dispatch requested, please confirm maintenance window. Actually showing up would be great, too.’

Janus hastily typed a message to Virgil. 

Janus D’lyre: Did you take that one?

Virgil Caligo: ya. logan didnt see dw

Janus D’lyre: Thanks. You can transfer it to me, I’ll take care of it. 

Janus leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temples. What a comedy of errors this day had been. It was the last time he’d forget he and Remus had a date night planned, that’s for sure. 

- 

Remus sighed when a priority ticket popped up in his queue. He was having a grand time ignoring his other queues in favor of sculpting a rather elaborate dick out of the green Play-Doh he kept at his desk, but he really did not feel like getting bitched out by Logan for missing a priority ticket. Grumbling to himself, he stuffed the Play-Doh back into its tub and opened the ticket. 

[06292021 Ticket #00679 Update.] ‘Likely a hardware bug. Possible remote fix with reset and reconfigure. Device information missing from online records. Please check file and update record.’ 

Fuck. Remus hated pulling files. What a pain. He trudged his way upstairs to the records room, which was always dark and depressing because nobody ever went there because who the fuck used physical paper in 2021?

But when he unlocked the door and pushed it open, the light was on. And every surface was covered in flowers.

“What the fuck?” Remus asked the flowers. They didn’t answer. But, at the small desk near the door, there was a stack of green boxes from his favorite bakery- and on top of that, he saw an envelope with his name on it. Eagerly, Remus tore open the envelope. 

Inside, he found a single sheet of Janus’ fancy stationery paper, the kind with the little holographic snakes along the edge that he only ever used for special occasions. And on that paper, one single sentence, penned in Janus’ elegant, flourishy handwriting: Ok, you can fuck me tonight.

- - -

[06292021 Ticket #00679 Update.] ‘I take it back, the device is no longer being a jerk, and I love the device very much.’ 

[lovelylunarwriting]

Jaemin Soulmate!AU

Jaemin has a reputation as a “cool” kind of guy, which is why he wears bracelets to hide the words permanently etched on his left wrist

“Wait- if it’s not butter, then what is it?”

Jisung and Haechan are notorious for giving him shit for having a ‘weird’ soulmate, but Jaemin thinks it’s kind of funny, honestly

Like great question dude but,,, why are you asking me this

Jaemin’s apartment is around the corner from a little family-owned grocery store that he’s frequented since his high school days.

He’s very much a regular, to the point of the owner being like “Jaemin…. Please just work here. You already know where everything is”

To which Jaemin has to respectfully decline, because he wants to focus on his dancing and singing, and working too much would get in the way of practicing.

That, however, does not stop the old man from sending customers with questions to Jaemin whenever he comes in.

Because Jaemin is too polite to be like “uhh I don’t work here, good luck”, he always ends up helping them

But secretly, he doesn’t mind. He thinks that maybe one day, his soulmate will be the next one to ask him a question.

Even after repeated questions about “how much does this cost?”, “when do you guys open tomorrow?”, “when will the next shipment of bok choy be in?”, he still isn’t terribly bothered.

The other employees chastise the boss for sending customers to Jaemin, but the old man is always like “he knows this store better than you all do. That’s why he gets a discount higher than yours”

Employee discount: 15 percent off all merchandise

Na Jaemin discount: 20 percent off all merchandise

It’s an unspoken rule amongst employees that Na Jaemin gets a discount, but they are NEVER to mention it to him! He knows that business has been rough recently and wouldn’t accept the generosity, but the boss thinks Jaemin is too skinny and wants him to be able to afford to eat well.

Now lovely reader, this is where you come in. You recently got a job at this grocery store but you work in the back, so you have never seen the famous “Na Jaemin” that all your fellow employees chat about so frequently.

Coworker #1: “Ugh, he’s like SO dreamy”

Coworker #2: “I know right? He’ll have no trouble becoming an idol at this rate”

Meanwhile you’re like “lol what who? Also where is the printer for printing clearance labels”

You specifically applied for the back of house position because you did not want to talk to people.

It’s not that you’re antisocial by any means- honestly it’s the opposite. It’s just that you have the tendency to say whatever you’re thinking with absolutely no filter.

So in the past when more…. challenging… customers have talked down to you, you gave back the same energy without thinking.

Management was not happy,,, so you were like “mmmm maybe I should just keep to myself and everyone would be happier”

One day though, it seems that you’re shit out of luck.

Your work bestie calls you at 3 in the morning on your day off saying that her kid has a fever and she’s gotta stay home and take care of him.

You have no plans other than generally being a lazy lump at home, and she’s always had your back at work, so you’re like “girl don’t worry about it, I got your shift. I’ll make some chicken noodle soup for him too”

To which she’s like “bitch if I hadn’t found my soulmate already I would’ve snatched you up T-T”

You giggle and tell her to try and get some rest- both her and her kid.

And then sleep another blissful 4 hours before rolling in for the 8am shift.

When you get there, boss man is like “ayeee so you’re covering for her shift which is stocking shelves, are you gonna be okay doing that?”

You: “Ahaha yeah it’ll be fine~ just please don’t send customers to me oh my gosh”

Boss Man: “Don’t worry, I just saw Jaemin walk in. I’ll send them to him”

You: “... who is Jaemin”

Boss Man: “He’s my FAVORITE!! Remember that!”

You: “Oh, okay!! Yes sir!”

You’re like fifteen minutes into your shift and you’re already on edge because all you’ve done so far is dodge all the old ladies who are shopping this early.

No actual products have been put on the shelves yet, or at least not by your hands.

Settling down in the dairy section, you relax a bit and start putting cold products in the cold shelves fixed to the wall.

And of course- things are in the wrong place. Why would anyone put anything back where it belongs?

Picking up a product, you glance at the label out of sheer boredom more than anything.

“Wait- if it’s not butter, then what is it?”, you say to yourself.

Or so you think.

“Yeah, that is like the one question I don’t know how to answer”, you hear a masculine voice say from behind.

You spin around and look up into the man’s face.

And oh boy is that a nice looking face.

“Oh I’m sorry, I- WAIT”, you start, before you realize what he said.

Grabbing his left wrist, you push up the bracelets to reveal what you’d just said. Then you drop his hand out of sudden shyness, and because it’s not cool just to grab people.

“Do… do you mind if I look at your wrist as well?”, he asks quietly.

You roll up your sleeve and present him with your arm. He delicately wraps his fingers around your wrist and flips it over to read the words written”

He drops your wrist and sinks into a squat, flopping his arms over his head and looking at the ground.

“Oh my gosh why did I say something so lame…”

“Umm,,, to be fair,,, I did ask you about butter so by comparison yours isn’t that bad,,,,”, you try to comfort him, and he lifts his head up to meet your gaze.

“You mean that? It wasn’t like the lamest thing you’ve ever heard?”

“Oh I’ve heard much lamer things, don’t worry!”, you say with a cheery smile that contrasts your words entirely.

He stands up again and clasps your hands in his. With a look of determination he looks straight into your soul and asks:

“What time do you get off work?”

You tell him, but let him know that you’ll be busy after work making chicken noodle soup for your coworker and her son.

He’s like “oh you can cook?” and you’re like “lol no but I’m gonna die trying”

He writes his phone number on your arm (next to your soulmate tattoo) and is like “text me when you’re done with work and I’ll swing by and walk you home and maybe I can help you cook”

And quickly clarifies “ONLY IF YOU’RE COMFORTABLE WITH ME IN YOUR HOME, I UNDERSTAND IF BECAUSE WE JUST MET YOU-”

You’re like “dude,,,, it’s fine, we are literally destined to be together. Also if you try anything I’ll just beat you up so it’s chill”

Looking at his watch, he sprints makes a beeline for the checkout counter, going on about he’s gonna be so later and Haechan’s never gonna let it go if he’s late twice in a row, and something else but by that point he’s so far away from the dairy aisle you can only hear muffled sounds where words should be.

The next several hours could not go by ANY SLOWER.

Starting off today, you figured the day would go by quickly because you’d be preoccupied figuring out how to do something new, but now all you can think about is pretty soulmate boy.

And how he never mentioned his name, but to be fair, it was a rather quick exchange.

What feels like centuries later, your shift is coming to a close so you grab the ingredients you the internet tells you you need for the soup and head to your favorite cashier.

Somehow the front of the store is both quiet and abnormally loud for this time of night.

“Jaemin’s been waiting there for fifteen minutes? Do you think he’s waiting for someone?”

“Maybe he needs to talk to the boss? Usually he’d just ask one of us to grab him but he’s just standing outside”

“Ugh it’s so cold, should we tell him to come inside?”

You glance over to the crowd of coworkers towards the entrance and break out into a smile.

“Just keep ringing me up, I’ll be right back!”, you tell the cashier and fast walk past the small crowd.

Peeping your head out the door, you greet him.

“Are you cold? Come inside, I’m almost done”

“Oh okay, should I wait by the door though?”

“No, come with me. I wanna show you off~”, you instruct and he raises an eyebrow, but plays along.

Holding open the door for him, he scuffles his way in and shyly offers his hand.

Gladly, and with a pounding heart, you lock your fingers between his.

“Your hands are freezing, dude”

“Shhh it’s fine. I was trying to be cool, okay”, he jokes with you as you walk back to the register

Ringing up your items, the cashier is looking at you and him with raised eyebrows, and you’re just like “shut up jessica I’ll explain tomorrow”

The two of you walk back to your apartment and spend the rest of the night cooking and talking about everything and nothing.

The more you learn about Jaemin, the more confident you are that the universe got this one right.

Even when most things feel unclear, you know this person is someone you can always rely on.

(also when you bring your sick work bestie the soup, Jaemin insists on tagging along and she’s like “omg Y/N that’s JAEMIN” and you’re like “I KNOW” and he’s like “hi here’s some soup, also why do you know my name”

[crystal-snowing]

hi hello i have many things to say. firstly, AHHHHHHHHHHH CONGRATULATIONS ON 1K BESTIE OMG 🥳💓💞💖💕 secondly, for Le Event (which is super duper awesome btw) i would like to (ahem ahem) make a Request :D there's a line in "guillotine" by jon bellion that says "sleep on me, feel the rhythm in my chest, just breathe. i will stay so the lantern in your heart won't fade." and if u can yeet that into a hyunjin drabble i will hug u so very lovingly <33333 thirdly, ily :DDD ok bye <3

pairing: hwang hyunjin x gn! reader

genre: slight angst, fluff, friends-to-lovers, friends-with-benefits! au, non-idol! au, unestablished relationship?, mutual pining? 

word count: 1.9k 

warnings: slightly suggestive (making out and mentions of fwb relationship) 

a/n: ahahaha this ended up being way longer than i thought it was going to be and i’m not sure if it fits your request hghh i’m sorry but thank you thank you roni !!! ily bestie <3  ⊂( ´ ▽ ` )⊃

You swore to yourself that two weeks ago would be the last night that you fell into this routine, but after opening the door and being faced with soaking wet Hyunjin at your door—all your pent-up resolve crumbled. Despite the water that dripped from his soaked clothes and onto the carpeted floor of the apartment hallway below, when he looked up at you, through the long strands on his brown hair, the passionate look in his eyes was enough to send shivers down your spine. 

Wordlessly you had opened the door a bit wider, allowing him to enter your apartment, before softly closing the door behind him. That was all it took, as he leaned forward, cupping your cheeks with his hands, and he kissed you. No words were exchanged between the two of you; that kiss conveyed everything. His lips burned against your own, your hands immediately finding themselves tangled in his long hair as you both stumbled back and away from the front door. 

This wasn’t his first time over at your apartment, and he was practically an expert now. Without breaking the kiss, he slipped off his shoes and jacket, letting them drop haphazardly to the floor as he moved his hands around your waist for stability. Even though his clothes were damp from the storm outside, his body was hot as he pressed against you, and despite being pulled flush against his chest already, that seemed like too much distance for him as he attempted to pull you even closer. 

Together you stumbled around the apartment as if you were both drunk (perhaps drunk off the feeling of each other), one of his arms holding you by the waist to keep you secure while the other was outstretched to save you both from making a huge mess. Somehow you both managed to make it to the couch in one piece; your back soon pressed into the plush material as he towered over you, breaking the kiss for just a second to look down at you, his face millimeters away from yours as his warm breath fanned over your face. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” your voice came out meek as you panted, looking up into his brown eyes clouded over with lust, pupils blown wide. Your warning seemed to have fallen on deaf ears, and in a fraction of a second, he moved to close the distance between the both of you—his lips colliding with yours once again. This should have been the point where you pushed him away, reaffirming your position that whatever this was happening between the two of you needed to end. 

But as his lips moved against your own, his teeth coming down to nibble against your lower lip, his warm body pressing down on your own, his hands gripping your hips while your own became lost in the messy locks of long hair, you knew that you were addicted to this feeling—the temptation too great for you to stop. And as his hands slipped underneath your shirt, his lips moving to your neck to press searing kisses leading down to your collarbone, you promised yourself that this would be the last time. 

One last night. 

You didn’t expect to find him in your bed the following day, basking in the glow of early morning sun as it streamed through your blinds. His dark hair contrasted greatly with your white sheets, his tan skin warm against your as he haphazardly threw his arm over your own body. Blinking a couple of times and shifting ever-so-slightly not to disturb him, you rubbed your eyes gingerly, taking in the sight of this beautiful man sleeping in front of you. 

Hwang Hyunjin was many things to you. First and foremost, he was your best friend. The one person who seemed to know you better than anyone else in the world and this reason was what made what the two of you shared so delicate. A friendship was a thin line, and after he proposed this arrangement a couple of months prior, you both had crossed the boundary many times since then. One would assume that this was a progression in your relationship; after all, the two of you have been friends for so long that something of this nature was bound to happen—it was only natural for feelings like these to one day bubble to the surface after being suppressed for so long. 

But Hyunjin knew how to toe the line, and while he blurred the line between friends and lovers, he knew better than anyone that by acknowledging what the two of you shared—by putting a name on this relationship past “just friends” would force him to confront the reality that the feelings he harbored for you were past that. 

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” his voice was rough around the edges, laced with sleep as he lifted his head slightly off of the pillow. You merely groaned in response, adverting your gaze from his piercing gaze and opting to rollover instead. But you couldn’t escape his grasp that easily, his arm snaking around your waist once again and pulling you flush against his chest. He pressed a kiss against your temple, nuzzling his cheek into your neck. 

The sudden burst of affection was surprising, to say the least, as a cold wave of realization crashed over you, shaking you out of your previously sleepy haze. Hyunjin never stayed; every morning, you would wake up to a lukewarm bed, the smell of coffee wafting through the apartment with a single text message on your phone with some lame-ass excuse about why he couldn’t stay. Up until this point, you were beginning to think that it wasn’t in his nature to stay, but as you could feel the warmth radiating off of him and his heart beating rhythmically against your back did you begin to have doubts. 

Sitting up as quickly as you did startled him, as you tugged at the sheets to cover your slightly exposed body, the cold air already finding a way to nip at your skin.

 “What are you still doing here?” 

The question came out harsher than you intended, and you could see his kind eyes falter for a second, the shine and playful gleam in them dimming. You paused, your expression softened. Clearing your throat, you turned away from him, hoping that he couldn’t see the embarrassment radiating off your face, before clarifying your previous question.

“I mean, usually you’re not here when I wake up, that’s all.” 

“Is it bad that I’m still here?” 

At the question, your head whipped back towards him, almost missing the flash of hurt that crossed his handsome features—answering a question with a question, how insightful. With your eyebrows furrowed, you proceeded with caution. Both of you were currently treading in uncharted waters, both entering the vast ocean with two different perspectives and motives hidden from one another. But you were growing tired of this pushing and pulling game—you were exhausted from treading water for this long, and all you wanted was to finally make it to shore. 

“Hyunjin,” your voice came out exasperated as you exhaled, running a hand through your hair, “we both established the rules when we first started this, and it’s only fair that we stick with them.” 

The expression on his face was utterly unreadable, any remnants of sleep completely vanishing from his face. He was wide awake, well as awake as he possibly could be for six in the morning, but the early morning hours didn’t deter his brain from running a mile a minute. Hyunjin was well aware of the two rules you both set upon beginning this arrangement, this was a secret shared only between the two of you, and there were no feelings involved. To abide by those rules, there was a third unspoken rule that he set for himself—never spend the night—and tonight was the first time he ever violated that promise. 

In his defense, he couldn’t help himself. There was just ethereal about you in the early hours of the morning. The way your skin glowed against the paleness of the bedsheets, the way your limbs were entangled with his own, and the warmth that radiated off your body pressed against his. Your scent was intoxicating, the way it enveloped him and stopped all thoughts of even leaving the bed, and for the first time, he felt as if he had no choice but to stay. 

“Well, what if I want to break the rules just once,” he muttered, looking down and fiddling with the white sheet covering the two of you, “what if I want to break the rules for the rest of my life?” 

His voice was barely above a whisper, but in the perfectly silent room, you heard him loud and clear. 

“You can’t just say things like that, especially if you don’t mean them.” 

“And who says I don’t mean it? I think I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” 

Your eyebrows shot to your hairline as your brain ever-so-slowly attempted to comprehend his confession. 

Hyunjin could feel your piercing gaze resting on his figure, his body growing warm despite his lack of clothing, as he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. He couldn’t explain what came over him at that moment; usually, he was much more careful with his words—especially around you, but once he started, he couldn’t stop them from tumbling out. He was willing to stay as long as you wanted him to, staying forever by your side so that the lantern in your heart won’t fade. Instead, he wanted it to burn brightly, illuminating a path to guide him for the rest of life; that way, he could always stay by your side. 

“I know what rules we laid down, but I don’t care. I want to be in a real relationship with you, that includes more than late-night calls and slipping out of your bed every morning so that we don’t get caught,” Hyunjin chuckled slightly, fiddling with the sheets below, “I want to wake up every morning like this, with you asleep in my arms. I hope that isn’t too much to ask. You were always more than just a booty call to me.” 

Once again, you fell into him.

Your body seemed to relax under his arm, your grip on the sheets loosening. His words put you at ease, the restlessness of your mind halting ever-so-slightly with his confession ringing in your ears. As you leaned back, his arm immediately came to wrap around your waist as your body settled into his side, eyes fluttering closed as you listened to the steady beating of his heart—that ultimately lulled you back to sleep. 

You wanted to stay like this forever, sleeping on him and feeling the rhythm of his heart beating only for you inside his chest, breathing the same air as a hopeless couple in love, unsure of what tomorrow will bring and what direction both of your lives will lead. But, as you drifted back to sleep within his warm embrace, you were certain of one thing—Hwang Hyunjin and his love were the only consistencies in your life, and for now, that was the only things that you could ever need.

[derekmorganscrocs]

Galentines Gone Wrong

Pairing: Wendell Bray x Reader, Valentine’s Special.

Word Count: 2,623

Summary: Y/n Booth is an FBI agent who works under her brother Seeley Booth and is also partnered with the Jeffersonian. Valentines rolls around and Cam, Daisy, and Y/n are all painfully single. Brennen and Angela join in and the group decides it’s girls night, get absolutely smashed, cause major chaos and get arrested for disturbing the peace. When their counterparts show up to bail them out, girls night turns to date night... or whatever this is.

Edit, March 11th: I hate the end of this. I reread it and it’s lowkey trash, but I’m going to keep it up because people seem to be enjoying it. Just a disclaimer that this is not my best work.

Notes: Tbh I second guessed this yesterday, hence the late post. I want to clarify that Wendell IS NOT preying on a drunk girl, and there was no drunk hookup. This is definitely not my favourite thing I’ve written and I was so out of ideas for the ending, but fck it, I have a migraine and feel like the personification of death. ALSO I WOULD NEVER USE GALENTINES IRL IK ITS LAME BUT I SIMPLY DO NOT CARE. HOLDIDAY SPIRIT BABES. Anyway, on with the show.

It’s been a long night. Fun, but long. You wake up against Daisy’s side, stretching lazily, and still partially drunkenly. As you sit up, you recall the events that led to your current seat in a drunk tank.

The five of you ended up in a biker bar, huge leather-clad and big bearded dudes all over the damn place. Despite being big scary bikers, they were chill and actually bought half of your drinks. Then you and Daisy got a little too close to an attractive younger biker, and his girlfriend was not having it. So an argument turned full on brawl caused the lot of you to bail out of the bar and trek back into town.

Only you were real rowdy, laughing and singing, a little to loudly for anyone’s liking. And got the cops called on you. And got thrown in a dunk tank. Unfortunately “you can’t arrest me, I am the law” doesn’t work if you’re drunk. The cops weren’t a fan of your badge, either.

You’re torn from your thoughts at the sound of voices down the hall, and you stumble over the the bars of the cell, holding onto them for balance. A half-hour nap didn’t do much to sober you up. The voices get closer, and your friends and brother walk in. Wendell’s the first one you notice, your eyes immediately darting to him. He’s wearing a hot ass black jacket, jeans and a white T-shirt, and you stare at him for a lot longer than you should.

“Hey, BJ. Never thought I’d see you on the other side of the bars.” Hodgins laughs at your expression of annoyance, and lets the cop they’re with open the cell door. He walks over to grab Angela, and you scoff.

“I told you to stop calling me BJ. I know you mean Booth Junior, but other people might think something else,” you mutter, much less than impressed at the innuendo tied to the nickname.

Your brother and Sweets go collect Brennan and Daisy, and Cam stands up on her own. She’s the most level-headed of all of you, and she’s completely sobered up now. Wendell walks to your side, your brother is too occupied with his (much less coordinated than you are) wife. Wendell puts an arm around you, and you gladly lean into him, hands settling on his chest.

“You’ll never guess what we did,” you giggle drunkenly against Wendell’s chest, overcome with the giddiness of a schoolgirl with a crush.

“Apparently you guys disturbed a lot of peace.” Wendell has somewhat of an impressed/concerned/entertained smirk on his face. He looks down at you, massively interested in the story as to how you got here. Not that he’ll hear it anytime soon.

“How’d you know?!” You look up at him with surprise written all over your face, a gasp escaping your lips, and it takes a lot for him not to burst out laughing.

“The sheriff told me. Let’s take you home, okay?”

“Okay,” you mumble, much more sullenly than five seconds ago.

Wendell keeps an arm around you, more than a little worried that you’re gonna fall over, and takes you to his car. You get in the front seat, smacking his hand away as he tries to help with your seatbelt. After successfully buckling the seatbelt, you glance back at him with a smirk.

“You know if you wanted to get on top of me all you had to do was ask.”

Wendell nearly chokes and dies at what you’re insinuating. He’s also not sure if this is the tequila talking or if it’s you talking. Composing himself quickly, he lets out a chuckle, saying something along the lines of ‘okay then,’ and closes the door for you. He walks around the front of the car, making his way to the driver’s seat. Hodgins drives by, Angela and Cam in the car with him, and waves as he heads home.

Seeley pulls up beside Wendell, looking at him sternly. Daisy and Brennen are singing in the back seat, and Wendell can see Sweets in the front seat, holding back laughter. It’s a funny sight really, the usually stoic Dr. Brennen and overly excitable Daisy, swaying together in the back seat singing an off-key rendition of piano man. Seeley makes a face at a certain piercing high note that comes from Dr. Brennan, before turning to Wendell.

“Listen man, I appreciate it. If we didn’t live on the opposite side of town, I’d take her home.” Seeley leans out the window slightly, looking at Wendell.

“It’s no problem, really.” Wendell smiles, giving your brother a small wave as he turns to get in his car. “I’ll make sure she gets home safe.”

“Wait! Not that I think you will, but don’t try anything. Alright?”

“Course not, man. Don’t worry, I got this. Head home, I’ll text you when I get Y/n home.” Wendell knows your brother means no harm, obviously, yet can’t help but think about why he’d even think to say that to him.

When he gets back in the car, seeing you sleeping soundly in the passenger seat, curled up and leaning against the window, his worries melt away and he smiles. He turns the car on and lowers the radio volume before driving off.

Tonight summarizes the two of you pretty well, actually. Y/n, the chaotic do-good-er badass, and Wendell, the (sometimes also chaotic) best friend, who always has your back. Sometimes it pains him that you only see him as that, a best friend, but he’s okay with just being that. A friend. Because it means he gets to see you happy. Little does he know, you wouldn’t have gotten so sauced tonight if you weren’t drinking away the thoughts of his lips on yours, his skin pressed against yours as the night turns to morning, the idea of a spark that doesn’t exist. The day of love sucks.

And for some reason, neither of you can see that you’re crazy about each other. Maybe it’s because you’re afraid to ruin what you have, or maybe it’s because you’re both just oblivious, but it doesn’t make a huge difference. Nothing seems to be happening.

Wendell is occupied with a lot of thoughts as he drives to your place. His mind bounces all over the place. He thinks about how you met, when you first walked into the Jeffersonian covered in dirt and sweat (in a cute way... even though he thinks anything is cute on you) after a chase in the desert, just to see your brother and make sure he was okay. He also thinks about the time he literally ran into you and the two of you fell down the platform stairs. The alarms went off, and everyone stared at the pair of you tangled up on the floor. Needless to say it took a while to live that one down. He thinks about every time he’s seen you laugh, and the few that he’s seen you cry. Not that you really even cried, you just couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. You don’t exactly do emotions, not out in the open at least.

He thinks about every reason he’s so smitten with you. You’re courageous, selfless, you protect your friends and family, you’re cutthroat and ferocious, yet simultaneously the sweetest person he’s ever met. You care about every detail of his day when you ask how he’s doing, and you can tell when the slightest thing is off with him, or anyone else at the lab, except for noticing his flaming crush on you. And as he thinks about all the little things, he realizes it can’t stay bottled up forever. He has to tell you.

Before long, you’re home. The two and a half hour drive have Wendell a lot of time to think, yet somehow it also feels like he’s had no time at all. The time has also started your trail toward sobriety, and you can at least think coherently. Wendell wakes you, and when you wake up, your hand goes to your head.

“Good god. Did I get hit by a bus?” Your words are still slightly jumbled together, but you’re getting back to business as usual, and that’s good enough.

“There she is,” he singsongs playfully, glad to see your usual demeanour starting to return. You unbuckle your seatbelt, groaning when you go to move. Wendell offers you a hand, and you take it.

Helping you up, he puts an arm around your waist again. You stumble slightly, and when he catches you, you fall against him, leaning against his chest. He ends up just scooping you up off the ground and carrying you inside, placing you on the couch. You’re mostly in good shape, just awful clumsy and distracted due to your headache. Wendell heads into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and some crackers.

“How you doing?” He sits by your thigh, putting an arm on the back of the couch and looking over at you. You cover your face with your hands, laughing gently.

“Ugh, please tell me I didn’t actually make the worst sex implication joke ever.”

“Um...”

“Oh shit. This is embarrassing.” You sit up, still a little tipsy, but not as messed up as you were at the police station. Maybe if things go off you can play it off as Valentine’s tequila. “Fuck it. I’m just gonna go for it. Tonight was fun or whatever, but I really wanted to spend it with you.”

“We could’ve done that. We can hang out this weekend if you want.”

“No, no. You really are a blonde.” You laugh, nudging his shoulder with your fist. Suddenly nervous, you start to ramble. “Not that that’s bad, because you’re definitely pretty. You’re a cute blonde, and you do have really nice arms, they’re really toned, and you know, at the garage you wear these tight shirts and sometimes I just stare and I worry you see, but-“

“Y/n! You’re getting off track here.” He puts a hand on your shoulder, laughing at your rambles. “Maybe we should talk about this tomorrow.”

“I like you a lot.” The words are out of your mouth before he’s even finished his sentence. “Like I have feelings for you?” It comes out like a question, but it’s meant as more of a fearful statement.

“Wait, really?” His eyes widen and his smile falls. At first you think he’s about to run for the hills, but when a small smile appears on his face you’re not so sure.

“Ah, shit, I shouldn’t have said anything,” you curse, rolling your eyes at your own stupidity. That’s fuckin embarrassing.

“No, I like you, too. A lot.” Wendell takes your hand, and you lay against his side as he keeps talking. “We can talk more, when you’re sober. But I do like you. And I think that if we decided that this weekend’s hangout was more ‘ice skating in the park’ instead of ‘trying to kill each other at the rink’, I’d be more than okay with that. I’d like that a lot, actually.” He lets out a small, nervous chuckle, and he glances down at you, fingers grazing your cheek as he contemplates if it would be weird to cup your face with his hand and run his thumb over your cheek.

“Really?” You look up at him with an adorable awestruck expression, and he nearly bursts out laughing.

“Yeah, really.” A smile stays glued to his face, and he shifts slightly, which causes you to sit up. “Now, you should probably go to bed, so that you’re not completely useless tomorrow.”

Wendell plants a small kiss on the top of your head, before standing and scooping you up, bringing you to your room. He drops you gently on your bed, and you let out a small giggle as you bounce slightly with the impact. You banish him from your room so that you can change, and not really paying attention, grab a black hoodie and shorts out of your closet. When you open the door again, he’s just leaning against the wall outside.

“Sorry, I didn’t know where you wanted me to set up- is that my hoodie? I’ve been looking for that!”

“Huh?” You look down at the sweater, seeing the small Jeffersonian logo on the left side of the chest, and the initials on the sleeve. “Oh, I guess it is.” You remember when he gave it to you, he couldn’t stand the idea of you remaining in your blood soaked T-shirt, the grey had become a sticky maroon, too much so to be comfortable. “You can have it back-“

“No, you keep it.” He steps closer, lifting your chin so that you look at him, and brushing a stray hair out of your face. His voice drops, becoming softer and breathy. “It’s much cuter on you anyway,” he murmurs, making you blush profusely, a little laugh escaping your lips.

The two of you fall silent, each staring at the other’s lips. A hum comes from the furnace, causing you both to startle slightly, and it ends the moment. You glance back at Wendell again, before sitting on your bed. He tilts his head at you, mildly confused as to what you’re doing.

“Where did you want me to sleep?”

“Wherever you want. There’s blankets and a few pillows in the closet.”

He thanks you and walks out, and you breathe in deeply, not realizing how shallow your breathing had become. Your mind is racing, and so is your heart. This is simultaneously about the best and worst Valentine’s you’ve ever had. As you mull over the events of tonight, you slide under the blankets, laying back and staring at the ceiling. The shuffling in your living room comes to a stop, and you can hear Wendell coming back to your room. He stops in the doorway.

“Came back to say goodnight,” he says softly, making your heart melt.

“You mind staying for a while?” You sit up, looking at him. He glances over his shoulder at you, a perplexed expression plastered on his face. “What?! I’ve had a rough night,” you say, pretending to be offended. He makes his way over, laying on your bed, on top of the blankets. You roll over and face him, looking up at him lazily. “Goodnight, Wendell.”

You drift off to sleep fairly quickly, but not before you subconsciously lay your head on his chest. He’s terrified at first, frozen in place and afraid to breathe, but after a few minutes he collects himself and calms down. You sleep soundly, curled up beside Wendell. He’s warm and he smells good, and he’s pretty comfortable. By the morning, the two of you are completely intertwined, tangled in blankets and each others’ arms.

The two of you grab a greasy breakfast (and some Advil) and spend the day together, actually talking about what happened the night before. Most of the day is spent at your place, you and Wendell lounging around on your couch as you binge watch your favourite series and try to overcome your hangover.

The next days and weeks fly by, you and Wendell getting closer and closer. The pair of you go on a few dates before things are made official, Wendell going as far as taking you on a walk in the snow and officially asking you out by the outdoor rink. He even reserved ice time so the two of you could skate around like idiots and pass a puck around.

And eventually, when people start to see you’re together, and ask about your story, you have to tell them he bailed you out of jail after Galantine’s gone wrong.

[p-artsypants]

Lovelace

Convinced that he's unlovable, Adrien is quickly thrown for a loop when Marinette confesses her love for him out of the blue. An akumatization and reveal later, he changes his mind about being unlovable.

Ao3 | FF.net

Self-Indulgent Angst and Fluff.

--

They say that a part of growing up is coming to doubt things you thought you knew. 

Adrien never thought he’d doubt how he perceived love. 

But here he was, the day after a...sort of breakup. He had finally bit the bullet with Kagami and admitted he didn’t love her, so he couldn’t date her. She had taken rather well, knowing that he was telling the truth. And then confessed her own truth, that she hadn’t loved him in the first place. She felt kinship and attraction to him, but it wasn’t love. 

His father, on the other hand, had not taken it well. Not at all. 

The conversation, or lecture rather, had been rolling around in Adrien’s head all morning. Try as he might, he couldn’t shake it. 

How could you just brush off something so awful? So world shattering?

—

Today was the day! Marinette was certain of it. Maybe her Miraculous melded with her finally and gave her the courage. Or maybe it was the nostalgia of the rain pattering on the sidewalk. But today it was going to happen. 

She was going to confess to Adrien. 

She was a little late, still on time for school, but last to arrive to class. Everyone else was already seated and talking among themselves. Miss Bustier was even in, preparing for the lesson. 

Marinette entered the room, eyes on target. 

He looked tired, or bored, or maybe even sad. She wasn’t sure. But she couldn’t dwell on it. She just had to do it. Do it and say it and get it out!

“Good morning, Adrien!” She smiled, her grin large and genuine and portraying the love she felt for him. 

“Oh,” he blinked, his own smile coming in slowly, and dimly. “Good morning, Marinette.” 

She could have forced a conversation, or just made small talk, but the truth just bubbled out of her. 

“I’m in love with you.” She said, still smiling. 

The room fell quiet, and everyone simultaneously heard her confession. 

Adrien stared at her, wide-eyed and...scared? “What?” 

“I love you, Adrien.” She should have been nervous, but she wasn’t. She should have backtracked, and weaseled her way out of it. But she just gave a little shrug. “Just thought I should tell you, finally.”

He wasn’t saying anything, anything at all. He just stared at her. 

Everyone stared at her. Chloe, Lila, Alya, Miss Bustier, everyone. 

Silence ticked by as her adrenaline gave way to embarrassment. 

She just clapped her hands together. “Um, you don’t have to say it back of course. Just Uh...it’s something I had been meaning to say, and I just...decided to get it off my chest. So...okay...” and she awkwardly walked passed him and sat down, her face growing warmer with each step. 

“Girl!” Alya whispered harshly. “What was that?!” 

“My confession. I’ve held it long enough, so I’m finally coming clean.” 

“Why now? Why like that? Why all of a sudden out of nowhere?” 

Marinette shrugged. “Just woke up with the courage.” 

Adrien, for his part, didn’t dare turn around. He kept his eyes laser focused forward, unseeing. 

The room broke into whispers. Complete disbelief, which was understandable. 

But the clock struck the hour, and class was supposed to start. Despite the absolute bomb that had just gone off in the classroom, Miss Bustier got up and started the lesson. 

Marinette wasn’t paying attention to the lesson of course. Horrible thoughts started to roll around in her head, worst case scenarios. He was sort of with Kagami, right? Crap, she had forgotten about that! Ugh, this was all messed up now! He probably hated her guts and he’d get his father to blacklist her from the industry and—

“Adrien, are you alright?” Miss Bustier asked, cutting through Marinette’s turmoil. 

Adrien’s shoulders were hunched, his hands in fists at his side as he trembled. 

He sniffled, and Nino reached out a hand to him. 

Oh god, it was worse than she thought! She made him cry!

Adrien stood swiftly. “I need to be excused!” He shouted, leaving everything behind, before bolting out of the room and slamming the door shut behind him. 

Marinette stared in shock, guilt coiling in her gut. 

“What did you do?” Asked Alya. 

“I...I have no idea...” Marinette whispered back, tears in her eyes. 

“I’ll go check on him,” Lila said, voice full of convincing concern. She stood and left quickly. 

Of course, Marinette didn’t want Lila getting anywhere near him while he was so vulnerable, but was she any better? She was probably the last person he wanted to see. 

But she should at least apologize, for whatever she did. 

There was just something nagging in her Ladybug brain. What would cause someone to cry after hearing someone loved them? 

Had Adrien loved her once, and given her up? Were these words too late and too bitter now? 

She just couldn’t understand. But guilt and heartache for doing this to the man she loved wracked her with pain. 

“LEAVE ME ALONE!” 

Adrien’s voice echoed through the courtyard, stalling Miss Bustier’s lesson. 

Chloe took out her phone and started frantically texting. 

Marinette waited in anxiety. 

A moment later, Lila returned, tears on her cheeks. “He hit me!” She cried. “I don’t know why! I was just trying to offer him comfort! I know it must be hard for him to get love confessions from crazed fans all the time—“ 

“I’m going to talk to him,” Marinette decided. She couldn’t stand another minute. Not another minute of Adrien suffering. She couldn’t allow it. 

“That might not be a good idea...” Miss Bustier began. 

But Marinette scooted around her and out of the room. 

In the courtyard, she could hear him sniveling. 

She hurried down the steps, scanning the room for any sign of him. 

And there he was. Hunched over against the wall. Knees brought up, head resting against them. It was a pose she had never seen him in. 

She didn’t want him to yell at her too. She didn’t know if her heart could take it. 

But she couldn’t help him if she didn’t try. So she stepped closer, making sure he could hear her steps so she didn’t frighten him. 

“Adrien?” She asked softly. 

He whipped his head up, his teeth pulled into a snarl. “I said—!” But then he stopped, seeing her there instead. “Oh, Marinette...” 

It was then that she noticed the scarf on the ground. The one she had made him, that he believed was from his father. 

It was ruined. It had been torn apart, like someone had dug their fingers between the weaves and pulled. 

She crouched and picked it up. 

“It’s garbage.” Adrien clarified. “I don’t want it. I can’t even look at it.” 

She trembled, and tried not to cry. Her confession sent him into tears. Her scarf was subjected to his anger. 

What had she done? Where had she wronged him? And what could she do to fix it? 

“I-I’m sorry,” she started. “I meant to tell you earlier, but you seemed so happy thinking it was from your father. I didn’t mean to lie...” 

He frowned. “What are you talking about?” 

“The...scarf? This scarf? I thought—I made this for you, for your birthday. I signed it and everything, but it must have fallen off or—“ 

“You made that for me?” His voice was incredibly small as he pushed off the wall and stood on shaking legs. 

“I thought you found out...isn’t that why you ruined it? I made you cry...” 

He violently shook his head no, before crushing her into a hug. 

He nuzzled his face into her neck, and dug his fingers into her jacket, almost painfully. “Marinette...” he whimpered. “Sweet Marinette.” 

She stood in shock. So he wasn’t mad at her? She returned the hug, squeezing him tightly and playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“Can you fix it?” He whispered.

“What?”

“The scarf…” he touched the unraveling thread. “If I had known, I wouldn’t have—I would have treasured it more. Please Marinette.”

It was ruined. No doubt about it. Some of the yarn was frayed and snapped completely. 

“I’ll make you a new one,” she promised, “one without any doubt of who it’s from.” She tied a few of the broken threads together and looped the scarf around his neck. It would do for now.

He sniffed and rubbed at his face. “Thank you…thank you…” 

She had never seen him so…undone. Just like the scarf, he was falling to pieces, and she had no idea how to react to it. 

“I know you want to be alone,” she began. “But I don’t want you…to be akumatized.” 

“You’re the only person I want around right now. I trust you and...” he started crying again. Fat tears running down his cheeks, before he tried to hide it with his hand. “I’m sorry...this is really pathetic.” 

“No...no no Adrien, you’re not pathetic...” Summoning every ounce of courage she had, she held his cheek and swiped his tears. “Obviously something happened. You don’t usually cry like this. At least as far as I’ve seen.” 

“I think I’ve been holding it in,” he chuckled lamely. “Kept thinking that my heartaches weren’t worth crying over...but it caught up to me. I’m sorry if I scared you.” 

“It’s okay, Adrien. I guess my confession was the straw that broke the camel’s back, huh?” 

He held her hand to his cheek and closed his eyes with a sigh. “Something like that.” 

Marinette gave him a little smile, though he wouldn’t see it, before reaching down and taking hold of his hand. “Let’s get out of here for a while, huh? We’re good students, we can handle it.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure as hell not leaving you alone. Besides, I know somewhere peaceful we can talk. Let me just grab my umbrella.” 

Adrien followed her to the locker room, hand firmly in hers, and not eager to let go anytime soon. 

They walked in silence, as Adrien occasionally sniffed and wiped his cheeks. 

Even though Marinette, the nicest girl he knew, was here now, loving him, his tears still would not stop. 

She took him to the bakery. 

“Marinette!” Sabine scolded. “Why aren’t you at school?!” 

Marinette gave her mother a sheepish look. “Adrien needed some fresh air. I volunteered to escort him.” 

It was then that Sabine took in his face, and her expression softened immediately. “Oh...did...you want snacks?” 

“Not if it’s a burden, Mrs. Cheng.” Adrien damn near whispered.

“It’s not, dear. Not in the least. Let’s see...Marinette says you like almonds, and passionfruit macarons, oh and we have pain au chocolat fresh from the oven!” She quickly made up a bag of goodies and handed them over. 

“Thanks mom! You’re the best!” 

“Yes, thank you Madam Cheng!” 

Sabine gave him an affectionate and painless pinch on the cheek. “Of course, sweetie. You’re welcome here anytime!” 

Adrien’s eyes welled up with tears again, as he tried his damndest not to let them fall. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice drowning with emotion. 

Marinette took his hand once again, and led him out of the bakery, back into the rain. 

As they paused under the awning, Adrien recognized the umbrella she was opening. 

“Hey, is that...the one I gave you?” 

“Sure is!” She popped it open and placed it over their heads. “Well, in the spirit of full disclosure, I think you should know...that was when I fell in love with you.” 

“All the way back then? And you never told me?” He thought back to all the clues he had, but all the times she declared, firmly, that they were just friends. Even his entire sorta relationship with Kagami, she was just cheering him on. 

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I was scared. I had a feeling you loved someone else. So I just let it be. But today, something told me you needed to hear it. That I needed to stop denying everything.” 

He squeezed her hand. “I wish you had told me sooner, but today was a great day to tell me.” 

She blushed, but pulled him away from the door and out into the lightly sprinkling rain. “So what happened? Well, you don’t need to tell me about it, but if you want to—“

“I want to. I should just be telling a therapist, but...I don’t have one. Let me know if it gets to be too much. Okay?” 

“Let me have it.” 

“So...Kagami and I broke up.” 

Marinette exhaled sadly, resting her head on his shoulder, since her hand was occupied. 

“It wasn’t that bad, honestly,” he continued. “I knew that I didn’t love her, and I felt that—well I thought that I loved someone else. So I told her. She admitted that she hadn’t loved me in the first place. She cared about me, but she hadn’t realized that what she was feeling wasn’t love. It was just friendship. I felt better knowing I hadn’t broken her heart.” 

Marinette steered them in an unfamiliar direction, off the beaten path. It was a winding alleyway that made little sense as steps ascended and turned corners. It was a narrow fit, one they had to take one at a time, before they reached the end. 

It was a little garden. There were rose bushes in the corners, and a little fountain with a cherub. A wooden swing with an awning took up a corner, and welcomed anyone that could find the little haven. 

“Wow...Marinette this is so cool. How did you find this place?” 

She shrugged noncommittally and led him to the swing. “I have my ways.” 

They settled, and she tucked the umbrella away. Then silence reigned for a little bit, only broken by the pattering of the rain and the creak of the swing. 

“So?” Marinette finally asked. “If the break up was so mutual, what has you so upset?” 

Adrien sighed, and leaned his head back. “My father’s reaction to the break up. He wasn’t...thrilled.” 

“No offense to the man, but I didn’t think he cared about your love life.” 

“He doesn’t. But he had some contract with her mom that I ruined, apparently. He wasted his time, he said.” 

Marinette swallowed, watching as Adrien stared dead ahead at the fountain. 

“I told him we broke up amicably. And that I did it because I didn’t love her.” He bit his lip and clenched his eyes shut. “‘How could you know what love is, when no one even loves you?’ That’s what he said, Marinette. My own father told me he and my mother, and everyone else...no one loved me. Kagami didn’t and neither does--'' he sobbed. “Until this morning, I thought I was completely unlovable. But you...you know what love is. Your family loves you. So if you say you do, I believe you.” 

She waited for him to finish before enveloping him in the tightest hug she could manage. It was in an effort to squeeze the sadness right out of him. And it seemed to work, as the sobs came like a downpour. He dug his fingers into her, holding on for dear life. 

So much sorrow. So much heartbreak. Marinette swore one day that Gabriel Agreste would pay. How could the man not love his son? Someone as spectacular as Adrien? Who couldn’t love him? 

“Marinette!” Tikki’s voice cut through the emotional moment. She wouldn’t have spoken unless...

Marinette let go of Adrien and unfortunately pushed him away, then she scanned the garden hideaway. 

There, just past the alley entrance, dodging raindrops and heading towards Adrien at full speed, was an Akuma. 

“No! Not him!” Marinette clung to Adrien, this time with desperation and fear. She couldn’t fight him. She wouldn’t fight him. Even if she went back on her own rules, even if she ruined everything...

She kissed him. Right on the mouth. Even if he didn’t love her back, she wanted him to feel good. If she could distract him from his sorrow for just a moment, long enough for the akuma to leave. 

A horrible chill rushed over her body, before she was pushed gently away by the shoulders. 

He had succumbed. 

He was all white. His hair, his skin, even his eyes had turned to porcelain. Cold and hard to the touch, but oh so fragile. The scarf around his neck turned into lacy wings that sprouted from his back. 

“Adrien...” Marinette breathed his name. 

“Lovelace now, I’m afraid.” But he was so gentle with her. He helped her to her feet, and touched her cheek with his stony hand. “Thank you for trying to help, Marinette. But I’ve accepted Hawkmoth’s help this time. He’s given me the power to make people love me.” 

“Is it really love then?” She asked. 

He frowned. “It’s better than them hating me. I’ll start with Ladybug first.” 

She gasped, not expecting to be the first target. She would have expected him to want to get to his father. 

“She’ll never love me otherwise. No matter how hard I tried, how I reasoned with her, how many chances I begged for, she will never ever love me!” A crack formed under his eye. “But I can make her. And once she loves me, she won’t need her miraculous. And then I can make all of Paris love me!” 

“Adrien...this isn’t you. Please fight it!” She cried for him. 

He wiped the tear away ever so gently. That gentleness that was so characteristic of him, but such a difference from where he was now. “Oh, poor sweet Marinette. There will be a place for you when the time comes. You, who loved me without powers. My gratitude is beyond measure. But for now, I suggest you go home and stay out of my way.” His voice took a hard edge at the end, that gave her goosebumps up her spine. She wouldn’t be able to help him as Marinette anymore. Now it was Ladybug’s turn. 

“Okay...” she agreed, and hurried down the alley. Her heart broke with each step. 

Finally, she had run far enough and away to a secluded place to transform. 

“I’m ready, Marinette! Let’s save Adrien!” 

But Marinette had gone back in time, earlier in the conversation. Something nagged at her. 

“Marinette?” 

“He said he was going after Ladybug first.” 

“All akumas do.” 

“But he said it was because I would never love him. No matter how many attempts he made. But Adrien never...” she choked, new tears coming to her eyes. 

“Now I know what you might be thinking...” Tikki warned. 

“Adrien is Chat Noir.” 

“And...what’s the point of even trying to hide it?” Tikki muttered to herself. 

“Oh my poor Chat...we’ll find a way!” She snapped her fingers. “And I have a plan! Tikki, spots on!” 

—

Precious minutes later, Ladybug burst into Miss Bustier’s class. “Madam, I need to borrow Nino Lahiffe!” 

Nino’s eyes went wide. “But I thought—“ 

“Special exception! Now move it!” 

Nino leapt to his feet and followed her outside. Once they were away from prying eyes, she handed him the small compact that held his old bracelet. 

“But Hawkmoth knows who I am.” 

“It doesn’t matter this time. Your friend, Adrien Agreste has been akumatized.” 

Nino looked like he had been shot. “Marinette, girl what did you do...?” 

“On the contrary! Marinette tried very valiantly to keep him from turning. His power is to make people love him. I figured you loved him a lot already, so you’ll probably be immune to his powers.” 

“Hey! That’s genius! The guy is like my brother. Of course I love him! And I’m going to kick his butt for thinking that no one does!” He put on the bracelet and called for the transformation. 

“So I guess I’ll be your meat shield? Take the hits so you and Chat don’t go Gaga?” 

“Chat is out with a family crisis.” Not a lie! “And...I will also probably be immune to his powers.” 

Nino went wide-eyed. “Wait what?! Really?!” 

“Shut up, and don’t tell anyone. Especially Alya.” 

“Mums the word!” 

“Good, now here’s the plan...”

—

Lovelace had garnered an army of adoring fans in the twenty minutes Ladybug had taken to get Nino. 

The Akuma himself was sitting on a bench, and waited, while dozens of fans scurried about. 

“I brought you water, Adrien!” 

“Here, I have an umbrella, we can’t have you catching a cold, Adrien.” 

“Let me dry off that bench for you, Adrien!” 

“What can I do for you?” 

“Would you like a shoulder rub?” 

Adrien didn’t answer to his victims. He just watched them all with a quiet fascination. 

This wasn’t as fulfilling as he had hoped for. Maybe it would be different with Ladybug and his father. 

“There you are, dude!” Carapace called out to him. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” 

Lovelace’s eyes widened and he raised a hand. “Carapace! You will fight for me now!” 

Without even flinching, Carapace took the hit. It just tingled, but had no effect. 

“Aw, come on man. Surely you know I already loved you? You’re my bro, dawg! But I am fighting for you. For your freedom from akumatization!”

Lovelace gaped in shock. “No! You’re supposed to do what I want!” 

“Sometimes what you want and what you need aren’t the same thing. I am on your side, Adrien. That’s why I want to help you.” 

Lovelace pointed to Carapace and told the crowd around him, “subdue him!” 

The fans all dropped what they were doing and ran at Carapace. 

Luckily, Ladybug caught him around the waist with her yo-yo and pulled him away. 

“You were right, Bug. I’m immune!” 

“Glad to hear it. Looks like these folks weren’t though.” 

“Get Ladybug! Bring her to me!” Lovelace shouted, before firing at more people. 

“We better wrap this up before things get out of control.” 

The name of the game was subtlety. Carapace and Ladybug both knew she was immune, but Lovelace didn’t. He shot over and over, begging her to stand still. 

“Just love me, Ladybug!” 

Ladybug allowed herself a misstep, and for the beam to strike her. 

“No!” Shouted Carapace. 

Lovelace opened his arms, beckoning her forward. “Come to me, My Lady!” 

Ladybug held her cheeks, eyes glittering like a rabid fangirl. “Adrien! Oh my sweet, handsome Adrien!” She skipped to him, twirling and giggling like a girl who was completely and totally smitten. “My love!” When she reached him, she took his hands in hers, and kissed his knuckles (so he couldn’t grab her earrings). “You’ve finally caught me, My Prince. I’m all yours!” 

“My Lady...” Adrien breathed, another crack forming under his eye. 

“Don’t be sad, my love! I’m here!” She leaned in, and kissed his porcelain lips. 

One of these days, she was going to enjoy a kiss with Adrien, but it seemed like today was not that day. 

He stood still, holding her waist and indulging her kiss. 

It lasted only long enough for her to wrap her arms around his neck, and yank the scarf free. 

“No!” Adrien shouted, as she danced away from him. 

“Sorry Adrien, but this is for your own good!” 

“You mean...you already...?” 

She winked at him, before she ripped the scarf up, and allowed the Akuma to be freed. 

After purifying, Adrien Agreste sat on the ground, bewildered, but only for a moment. It didn’t take long for his last memories to catch up to him and he put the pieces together. 

“Oh my gosh, I’m so so sorry Ladybug! And Carapace!” 

Nino hugged him, giving him a tight squeeze and then pulled away to hold his shoulders. “Dude, if you ever feel like no one loves you, you just come talk to me, and I’ll convince you otherwise. Got it?” 

Ladybug picked up the now-repaired scarf and placed it securely around Adrien’s neck. Then she lifted him into her arms, like a princess. “Let’s go for a stroll, hmm?” 

Adrien clung to her, shocked and embarrassed. 

The three went to the alleyway Adrien was akumatized in, and Nino immediately detransformed, offering up his Miraculous. “Here you are, Ladybug. Thanks for giving me the chance to help my bro.” 

“Thank you for your help!” She beamed. 

“I got to get back to class. You gonna be okay, dude?” 

“Uh yeah. Just...Marinette?” 

“She’s safe, don’t worry.” Ladybug gave him a pat. “I’ll take you to her, if you’d like.” 

“That'd be great. I should really talk to her...” 

“Kay dudes, I’ll check you later!” Nino waved. 

Then Adrien and Ladybug were alone. 

“I’m really sorry again, Ladybug. I’m usually very level headed...at least I think I am.” 

“Adrien,” she stopped him with a hand in his shoulder. “People get akumatized because they got the wrong topping on their sandwich. I’m really not judging you. You were...a walk in the park to fight.” 

“Thats...that’s good, right? What did I do?” 

“You made people love you. Kind of like...Befona, or Zombizu.” 

“How did you beat me?” 

She gestured to the swing, and sat down beside him. “Well, I knew I would be immune to your attack, so I pretended like I came under your spell...and I kissed you. When you were distracted, I took the scarf away.” 

He blushed all shades of red. “Oh. Wait, you knew you would be immune? How?” 

“Easy. I couldn’t love you anymore if I tried, Kitty.” 

“Kitt—“ he choked. “You...you know.” 

“Yeah. You told me. When you were freshly akumatized, you said you were going after Ladybug first, since she would ‘never love you’ no matter how hard you tried, or how many times you asked...Chat Noir is the only one who has asked me more than once.” 

The dots were still a little too far apart in his mind. “And I didn’t fight you?” 

“Spots off.” 

Adrien watched in shock as the love of his life turned into his beloved friend who had tried so hard to heal his battered heart. 

His eyes were wide and sparking with tears. Drops rolled down his cheeks, and he kept sniffing. 

But he was smiling, oh so brightly. 

“My Lady? You’re My Lady?” He whispered. 

“Hi Chaton.” She smiled.

“You love me...” he whispered again, clenching his eyes shut as more tears came. “You love me, even if it’s just a part. Even if you don’t love Chat...” his eyebrows drew together. “But now it’s all ruined. Because you’re going to change your mind.”

“No!” She practically leapt on him, scrambling to sit in his lap and tucking under his chin. 

Adrien gathered Marinette close, burying his nose in her hair, and letting his fingers play with the hem of her shirt. 

“Adrien, finding out you’re Chat Noir is literally the best thing that could have ever happened. I adore Chat, and I turned down your advances because of you, Adrien. It hurt to keep telling you no. But you deserved to have someone love you with their whole heart.” She pulled back and sat up, so that she was face to face with him. She leaned in, and rested her forehead against his. “And that can be me now, if you’ll have me.” 

“Marinette,” he sobbed. “You really love me?” 

She covered his face in little kisses. “And I’m not the only one. Ask Plagg.” 

As if on cue, Plagg emerged and stuck out his tongue at Adrien. “Yeah, Fartface. How dare you think no one loves you. No one is a bigger fan than me!” 

“You’re a fan, and you’re calling me Fartface?” Adrien chuckled. 

Plagg rubbed against his cheek, affectionately. “Only you.” 

“And Nino and Alya love you. I’ve heard Nino call you his brother, and Alya doesn’t have nicknames for anybody else in the class.” 

This seemed to brighten him as he smiled genuinely. “Yeah...you’re right.” 

“And Chloe loves you. I’m sure if I called her and told her where we were, she’d be over in a second, and ready to crush you.” 

He laughed. “Yeah, she would.” 

“And my parents, and your fans, I bet your bodyguard loves you too.” She kissed his cheek, just because she could. “And I know your mom loved you. Your dad can try to retroactively say she didn’t, but she did. I bet that your father even loves you, but he was so angry, he just wanted to hurt you.” 

“I don’t really care about his feelings anymore.” Adrien lamented. “I finally realized that all the effort I went through to please him and get his approval was a waste.” 

“Well, he doesn’t deserve your effort. Give it to people who will cherish it.” 

“Like you?” 

She chuckled. “Yes Kitty. Like me. I’ll cherish every moment with you. I promise.” 

“You’re going to make me cry again.” 

“I won’t judge.” 

He looked to her, shyly, very much aware of how close they were. “My Lady, can I—“ 

“Yes.” She interrupted. 

“But I didn’t get to finish asking.” 

“True. But you’ve had a lot of no’s lately. I wanted to say yes.” 

“Okay...then, I’ll just...” he slowly closed his eyes and leaned in, fully prepared for her to push him away by the nose. ‘I didn’t mean that’ she would say. 

But that didn’t happen. Instead, her mouth meshed with his, full and wanting. Her arms twined around his neck, and fingers dove into his hair, sending goosebumps down his spine. 

She was delicious. Warm, inviting, soft, and oh so sexy. Her thin frame arched forward, doing everything to be close to him, and he drank it in. 

His Lady. His love. His light. 

He kissed her sweetly, and he kissed her hotly. Tender pecks, and raunchy open mouthed caresses. Their tongues met shyly, passing against each other with tentative grazes. 

And then Adrien pulled away, his chest heaving from the rush of it all. The rush of kissing his lady. 

“Wow,” he whispered. 

“Wow indeed,” she smirked back. She pressed a kiss to his lips, perfectly delicate in contrast to the passion of seconds ago. “You’re amazing.” 

He grasped her shoulders. “I’m amazing?! You’re amazing! I love you! You’re the most perfect girl in the world!” 

“I thought I was trying to hype you up?” She giggled. 

“I can’t help it. Every minute I’m with you, I’m enchanted.” 

“Cheesy, but I love you anyways.” She kissed him. “And I might have a hard time stopping kissing you, now that I know how wonderful it is.” 

“Then we can kiss whenever you want. Before school, during class, on patrol, instead of a fistbump.” 

“Yes to all,” she giggled. “I want everyone to see how loved you are.” 

He leaned against her chest with a content sigh. “Thank you Marinette. I was so devastated. I didn’t know what I was going to do. I had already fought off several Akuma last night. I thought Hawkmoth had given up, but...I couldn’t bear to hurt you.” 

“You didn’t. Honest.” She smooched him. 

He leaned back on the swing, his hand brushing a paper bag. “Our pastries!” 

“See! The day is saved!” 

—

An hour of dancing and kissing in the rain later, two soaked teens wound up at Marinette’s house to change, and then back to school for the second half of the day. 

Nino greeted him with a big hug, and so did Alya. 

“I’m glad to see you’re feeling happier, Adrien,” Said Miss Bustier. “Now I think you owe Lila an apology.” 

He suppressed an eye roll. “I’m sorry for yelling at you, Lila.” 

“And for hitting me?” She egged on. 

“No...I’m pretty sure I just yelled at you.” He frowned. 

Marinette placed a hand on his arm, and it was just enough of a push. He straightened his spine and glared at her. “And I’m pretty sure you deserved it, after you came down and antagonized me. What was it you said? ‘Your father wishes I was his child instead of a sensitive little baby like you’? ‘At least I get stuff done’? You know what, I’m not sorry for yelling at you.” This felt good. Way way too good to just vent. No one interrupted, so he just kept going. “And you know what? I don’t care if you try to manipulate everyone else here and try to turn them on me like you turned them on Marinette! I know I’m loved, and I don’t need the approval of every person I meet. I’m not going to try to please everyone anymore. Especially you, Lila. You are a waste of effort, just like my father. And if he wants a brat liar like you for a kid, then he can adopt you. That’s fine with me! The minute I turn 18, I’m getting married and becoming Mr. Dupain-Cheng! And since you’re so chummy with my father that he told you about our private conversation, then you can tell him all about this too!” 

The class just stared in stunned silence, looking between Lila and Adrien, genuinely confused. 

“Kitty?” Marinette whispered, touching his back. 

“Wow that felt good. I feel empowered! Come here, you!” 

The stunned silence of the classroom was quickly replaced with cheers, as Adrien pulled his new girlfriend up and into his arms, as they kissed like they had been apart for weeks. 

—

Gabriel Agreste would receive a phone call later that afternoon, from Lila Rossi. 

“Mr. Agreste, you will not believe what your son said to me today!” 

“I don’t want to hear it.” He hung up. 

The last thing he wanted to think about was his son. Adrien’s akumatization, which was going to be his greatest masterpiece yet, had been a complete and utter failure. Chat Noir never showed up, and Ladybug didn’t even need a lucky charm. All Hawkmoth got out of it was the worst experience of second hand tonsil hockey between two teenagers. Twice. 

Well. Adrien certainly knew what love was now. Gabriel took the folder that held all the designs and plans for this Akuma...and promptly shredded it. 

--

So, this story is a one shot, and technically complete, though I do want to turn it into a comic in the future. It will be a slow process, but I’ll tag it as Lovelace!

[letterstomilen]

i discuss the classification of igneous petrology as you fall asleep during my lecture (PART 1) (ASMR)

Childe/Zhongli, Alternate Universe (read part 2 here) When Childe's younger sister tells him about the volunteer at the library, he does not make the connection between that and his new favorite ASMR YouTuber, Rex Lapis.

Childe has a very effective method of getting through college. His little sister, who’s caught him making coffee at three in the morning on more than one occasion the past week alone, would beg to differ. 

“You’re the best older brother,” she starts off, and he’s sure she’s trying to convince herself more than him at this point, “but you need to fix your sleeping habits.” Then, because she’s his little sister, she’d flash him a smile and pat his shoulder reassuringly.

(The comment is not lost on him though. He understands his sleeping situation will eventually wear him down if it hadn’t already, but he believes if he’ll drink a coffee every morning and a Monster every night, he’ll get through three days. By the third day, he’ll hardly be coherent but that doesn’t matter because he’ll conk out for the next twelve hours and then repeat.)

“Don’t worry, Tonia,” he says, trying to sound as reassuring as possible as he contemplates whether it’s worth it or not to swallow a pill of 5-hour energy with his morning coffee. “Once break ends, I’ll get back to normal.”

“You said that six seasons ago.”

Childe frowns, trying to remember if his sleeping schedule was this dysfunctional last year. “Huh?”

“The Walking Dead seasons,” Tonia clarifies, as if she’s not twelve years old and the show is for grown adults. He thinks. He hasn’t checked Commonsensemedia ever since La Signora labeled him as a “helicopter parent” and his Netflix tab has been playing How to Get Away with Murder as background noise for the past few weeks.

Isn’t it a show about zombies though? Tonia’s sheepish smile tells it all, because it’s the same exact guilty look he had when he got caught red-handed as a kid.

(Once he remembers later, Childe promises himself, he’ll check out The Walking Dead.)

“Oh. Well. I have a lot of shows to catch up on, you know. Not to mention a ton of my professors gave me reading for over the break.”

A half lie. They did give him a lot of reading because each professor assumed that their classes were his only one, and with seven days left, he still has a textbook worth of reading to go through. But there are no shows that Childe would sacrifice his precious sleep for. As a matter of fact, he would love to sleep. He’s spent the majority of his classes back in high school sleeping and faking attention, saving his grade at the last minute — it was quite the extreme sport really, if he says so himself.

Whenever he tries to sleep recently, his thoughts run at several hundred miles per hour, and he spends several hours staring at the ceiling before succumbing to the computer at his desk and watching trashy movies. At this point, he must have gone through the entire romance comedy list on Netflix. (Not a proud point in his life but if anybody ever wanted him to give a list of best to worst romance comedy movies, he now has one.)

Tonia, on the other hand, isn’t incredibly convinced.

Admittedly, the excuse was lame. Also, he can’t easily lie to his little sister, who’s far shrewder than he takes her for at times.

“You never start your reading in advance. You like to speed read it right before your class or watch a five-minute video on the chapters while your teachers take attendance. But that’s… uh, ‘a bad work ethic.’” Tonia looks immensely proud of herself as she says this, finishing it off with, “Zhongli told me that.”

“Zhongli?” he repeats, trying to remember if that’s one of her classmates or some stranger that’s hoping to kidnap his sister.

“The guy that volunteers at the library sometimes. He recommended me a loot of good books to read, but he talks like an old man.”

“How old?” Childe can tell she’s enjoying this — talking about her new friend at the library that he’ll probably have to run a background check on.

“Like he’s in his sixties or something. But he looks… actually, he looks your age! And he’s a student too. I told him all about you.”

Well, that doesn’t sound very reassuring coming from the mouth of a twelve-year-old. He’s not sure if that translates to his social security number, his current dilemma, or just that he’s her older brother.

“Like all of the stories you told me when I was a kid. And then when Lumine came to pick me up, she stayed to show him pictures of you too.”

“Of course she did,” he mumbles, ruffling her hair. One of these days he’s going to move without telling his classmates and the twins won’t enter his apartment unannounced. (But Tonia adores their company and the stories they tell her far too much for him to actually do it. But that doesn’t mean he’s above making threats when they tell his little sister about the bet he made about white-out and how it could dye hair. The jury is still out on this one.) “She’s just mad because I get away with it and she doesn’t. But don’t do it yourself. It’s a bad habit,” he adds, remembering that he should at least try to be a good influence on his younger sister when he can.

“Okaaay,” she says unconvincingly, before shaking her hair and running off to her room with lunch he prepared for her.

Watching her close the door and no doubt continue her binge of The Walking Dead, he takes out his phone and texts Lumine.

 Childe

12:35

ur a horrible influence on tonia

 Childe

12:35

and whos this ZHONGLI

 Childe

12:35

also is twd appropriate for 12 y/os

 Twin 1

12:37

a normal person would say hi

 Twin 1

12:37

also 1. me n aether watched it when we were 12 so probably and 2. some guy at the library that also goes to our school

 Well. At least he’s somebody they know. But The Walking Dead?

 Childe

12:38

thats not very convincing

 Childe

12:38

also dont ppl DIE? get BITTEN???? what if she gets nightmares

 Twin 1

12:39

isnt she 12 r u telling me u weren’t watching R rated movies at 12

 Childe

12:42

thats very different from a 10 season long show that is hailed as “one of the greatest horror shows in history” and “paved the way for post-apocalyptic horror”

 Twin 1

12:42

well if she has trouble sleeping she could always watch asmr. that helps me during midterms idk

 Childe

12:42

whats asmr

 Childe

12:43

asking for my sister btw

 Twin 1

12:44

A feeling of well-being combined with a tingling sensation in the scalp and down the back of the neck, as experienced by some people in response to a specific gentle stimulus, often a particular sound.

 Childe

12:45

wtf?

 Twin 1

12:45

people on the internet make random sounds or just talk into a mic n its supposed to be very relaxing. how have u never found out abt this?????

 Childe

12:45

idk the only thing on my youtube recommended r greatest stunts and chapter review videos

 Twin 1

12:47

… makes sense

 Twin 1

12:47

check out rex lapis’ channel he looks like ur type

 Childe

12:48

i thought we were talking about my sister????

 Twin 1

12:50

[message screenshots.jpg]

 Twin 1

12:50

ya she told me everything

 Twin 1

12:50

have fun i need to convince aether to not commit arson bc of his TA

 Childe

12:51

hope he does it

He opens his Youtube app, typing in Rex Lapis and expecting Lumine’s suggestion to be a joke. Despite them being friends for nearly two years now, she’s never made any indication of knowing his type. And he’s sure he’s never been that vocal about it either, only shooting appreciative looks at history majors and paying more attention than necessary to the TA for ‘Tradition of Justice and Law.’ (It’s unfortunate that those short-term crushes never led to anything, but maybe that’s for the better seeing that Childe has never understood the appeal of relationships.)

It is an ASMR channel, judging by the ASMR playlist he finds as he scrolls through the account. The icon shows no face — only a microphone — which leaves him skeptical. Most of the video titles belong in a petrology lecture as well, which makes him even more convinced that it’s a joke. He finds a few readings of ancient literature and decides to pick ‘I discuss the classification of igneous petrology as you fall asleep during my lecture (PART 1) (ASMR)’ because that’s exactly what he needs. (Not the very moment — but ten hours later when he’s in the bed memorizing the pattern of his ceiling wondering why he stole from his fifth grade teacher’s candy jar during lunch.)

When Childe opens the video, he damn near gasps.

The man in the video is exactly his type. His eyes are a soft amber color, framed with long lashes, and it’s almost enough for him to lose his dignity and message Lumine a long thank you text about how she is always right and he’ll pay for her coffee for the following week.  He smiles at the screen, albeit a little sheepishly, dark hair framing his face with a long ponytail that Childe can’t see the end of. On his right ear, there are a pair of earrings with a single feather that brush against his neck when he moves his head.

Even before he speaks, Childe is mesmerized, sure he’ll already memorize his features from the curve of his nose to the way he tilts his head, displaying the expanse of his neck.

Really — he reminds him of actors in historical dramas, the way he sits regally, and how he speaks. His voice is low and slow as he adopts a careful manner of speaking, leaning into the mic.

“I’m Rex Lapis, and I’ll be discussing igneous petrology today, which is part one in a three-part petrology series. I apologize in advance, seeing that my knowledge is limited compared to many petrologists out there but my friend Venti said that many of my viewers are here for my voice, so I’m very excited to start today’s video.”

Holy shit.

For the following week, Childe learns less about petrology, the philosophy of economics, and historical revisionism concerning matters of war and more about Rex Lapis, who is not in love with his voice but often finds himself in the middle of long tangents without explanations. His favorite book series is the Legend of the Lone Sword, which he says he’ll look forward to reading out loud for the channel. (Childe replays that part of the video again and again, captivated by his excitement as he mindlessly taps the mic while he speaks, his tangent cutting off mid-word — as it usually does, much to his dismay.)

His guilty obsession is not lost on Tonia, who realizes that instead of drinking Monster every night he’s been engrossed in his phone completely, often not noticing her or when the water starts bubbling. But because his sleeping schedule has been alleviated, she says nothing until Lumine comes over as she always does, not forgetting their weekly schedule of watching trashy movies while leeching off of Childe’s food.

Because he doesn’t trust the twins with the kitchen — even if they can cook — she instead spends her time sitting next to Tonia and spreading more of her anti-Childe propaganda while they wait. This usually involves Tonia occasionally calling out Childe’s name and asking, “Is that true?” or “Did you really do that?”

This time is different though.

Worried that Lumine finally decided to show Tonia a video of last semester’s presentation, he leans over, looking at the computer screen.

And he’s wrong. Unfortunately. Maybe it should’ve been his presentation because even if he botched it and accidentally projected his work process — screaming notes and all — to the class instead of his actual presentation, it would’ve been better than the two of them watching one of Rex Lapis’ videos together.

The ‘I read Erosion: Essays of Undoing to you as it rains outside’ video, to be specific, which is where Rex Lapis is embarrassed by Venti mid video when asked if this was his idea of a date with a lover. (And then it ends with Rex Lapis asking for video suggestions from the commentors, his face still flushed from the previous comments.)

Oh God — oh fuck.

“So he is your type,” Lumine says, her expression a bit too smug for his liking. Tonia looks half awake, scrolling through articles as the video plays, more interested in ‘Top 10 Glenn Rhee Moments’ than Childe’s crush. Her expression is a bit guilty as she does so — she’s biting her lip and avoiding his gaze, but he assumes that it’s just because they went through his YouTube history.

“I can neither confirm nor deny that statement,” he retorts, but the YouTube history she pulls up once Tonia hands the computer over to her says it all. (It’s quite mortifying, really — even Tonia is giving him a look, but it’s not as bad as Lumine’s shit eating grin.)

“Well… he does have a nice voice,” Childe finally says, thinking that perfectly encompasses his most recent obsession. Because he does have a nice voice — it’s soothing and speaks to him without really speaking to him directly. (The good looks are a bonus, he assures himself. A fantastic bonus, but a bonus nonetheless.)

“He does,” Tonia confirms, smiling toothily up at him, and he resists the urge to ruffle her hair with Lumine staring at him so skeptically. “But I don’t understand much of what he’s saying. He — heh — talks like an old man.”

“Don’t worry, Tonia, your brother likes him because he’s attractive,” Lumine informs her, now fast forwarding on one of Rex Lapis’ videos. “Did you know that he lives nearby?”

“Huh?”

The knife he’s holding clatters to the floor, and the two look down and back up at him with— hold on, why does it feel like they’re in on a secret he doesn’t know about?

“Yeah, he’s working on his grad thesis I think… Aether told me it was about something on history,” she muses. “That’s why I recommended his channel to you. He’s a bit of a celebrity in his department.” Childe’s sure his jaw dropped now, trying to maintain his facial expression as he takes out a new knife to chop up the onions.

“Really,” he tries to say as calmly as possible, wondering how he should accompany Aether to his lectures without trying to seem as obvious as possible. His voice is a bit shaky he realizes but he can’t quite make the connection between Rex Lapis and actual graduate student that goes to his university.

“Yeah, actually…” Lumine is definitely pretending to think now, enjoying this far too much. “He—”

“It’s Zhongli!” his little sister yells excitedly, practically jumping up and down at this point as if she won the lottery. “Zhongli runs an ASMR channel and he talks just like that in real life! Right, Lumine?”

“Yeah.”

Childe sighs, holding a hand up to his face. The realization that he’s been obsessed with the same guy that hears about every stupid thing he did secondhand is way too much — and the fact that he’s been listening to his voice every night before he went to bed the past week is way too much. He’s sure his face is redder than before judging by the amused expressions on Lumine’s and Tonia’s faces — really, they’re mirror images of each other right now.

Not for the first time, Childe swears to himself that he’ll never let her into his apartment without signing a contract ever again.

[cadaceus]

C2E126

Guys, I genuinely went on whole emotional rollercoaster ride over here. It was A Time, from the ad at the beginning to the journey at the end. My liveblogging of this journey is below, though I can’t promise that it is entirely coherent, lol! As always, beware of spoilers for this entire episode below the cut! (Believe me, this is something you’ll want to experience without knowing what will happen!) 

- THE NORDVERSE HJGJHDSKHLJSD

- Monochromatic???

- I feel like I need an entirely different liveblog of the Nordverse because I can’t stop grinning

- Okay I had to pause for dinner, but apparently Caleb and Beau got another eye?? I had a feeling this would happen but I’m still so sad

- Ruh roh, the brand that Molly did to Fjord! I forgot what that does but it’s also so ominous

- Yasha and rubbing things out: a saga

- “Fjord’s rock hard pecs” I know it was ironic but bicon Caleb dghjkkjlk

- Dreams have been weird?? Is the whole Clay family getting weird stuff, it is a Wildmother thing??

- Them trying to hit both the Empire and Caduceus’s home is stressing me out, I feel like they need to hurry things up especially since they are on a time crunch here aahhh 😭

- Taliesin clarifying that Caduceus was not the one to say “smokin’” is so funny, but not quite as funny as the image of Caduceus actually saying “smokin”

- Matt: “It seems grossly expensive.” Yasha: “That seems grossly expensive.”

- BEAU LOOKING FOR FLOWERS FOR YASHA HELP THEY’RE SO CUTE

- my best friend just texted me “a Beau Tie” we’re having a top tier pun night

- is she....... you know.......... Xhorassian?

- Is Caleb looking for books for Luc? Because that would be so cute

- “My poor, dead, cheap fiance” is this the sequel to My Big Fat Greek Wedding?

- I CAN’T STOP LAUGHING AT LAURA’S DISGUISE VOICE SHE IS SO FUNNY

- Aaaand suddenly its super heavy again, the volstruckers were stalking them for a long time weren’t they?? Yikes

- “The love that the three of us shared”  👀

- An opportunity.... to overtake Trent? The Assembly? I do love the neutral evil wizards vibes always, though (True Neutral?)

- Wait, there are nine Cerberus Assembly members???? I’ve connected the dots....... I’ve connected them........

- Veth that was a bit too on the nose...... I feel like she is dropping hints that she’s in love with Caleb..... “Wouldn’t you [be sad] if you wanted to be with this amazing young man but you couldn’t because of circumstances tearing you apart?” 

- So there’s infighting in the Empire with the Cerberus Assembly against the King, and there’s also tension between the houses in the Dynasty.... I feel like there are two major political plays being set up here

- Maybe I’m super gullible but I do trust both Essek and Astrid right now.... idk I feel like their paths are kind of parallels in an interesting way, mayhaps I’ll write more about that soon *thoughts are being thought*

- “Nothing is more important than you” Yeah I’m having Widobrave feelings tonight

- OKAY HERE WE GO LESBIANS LETS GO LESBIANS LETS GO

- “You want my hand.... it’s been a minute” YASHA PLEASE LMAO DGJKDHJ

- This is getting heavy too wait I just want to smile  😭 😭 (But this is a conversation they definitely needed to have)

- People complaining in the chat about the date “taking too long” are lame, I hope this date lasts for five hours thank you very much, y’all knew you were signing up for disaster lesbians and now you’re surprised?? 

- THE L WORD

- I FELL IN LOVE WITH YOU IN KAMORDAH........ I’M SO PROUD OF THE PERSON YOU’VE BECOME..............

- I WANNA KISS YOU SO BAD AND THEN THEY KISS IM SCREAMING DJKD;LDHSLASA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH

- THE NINJAS LMAOOOOOOOOOO CALEB PLEASE

- Beau calling Yasha “Babe” I CANT WAIT TO HEAR THIS ALL THE TIME OHMYGOD

- Yasha’s soft “hey”

-”I love you too” “That;s the best thing I’ve ever heard” THE SEROTONIN I FEEL. THIS IS !!!!!!!!!! SO MUCH

- Awww, their hands linked together is so sweet I love that

- Okay the first half of this episode had me tearing up, and then this second half I could not stop grinning.... Beauyasha is my favorite ship in the show and they mean so much to me, so getting to see them have deep conversations about their feelings and how far they’ve come, but also have fun and mess around with each other and just be happy together for once in their lives... they are making good memories. And I feel like I’m making good memories too, by watching them. 

Happy Thursday, y’all <3

[pilot-boi]

Coffee Cup Woes

Jaune's history tutor is really pretty. Like REALLY pretty. Like way out of his league pretty. And he liked her, a lot. Liked her liked her. Head over heels for her. Pyrrha's history student was a delight. His smile lit up her darkest days, and he was sweet and kinder than anyone she'd ever met. She liked him, a lot.

They were perfect for each other, but sadly, both of them were idiots, and were too scared to make the first move.

Sometimes people needed a little push. Luckily their friends were more than up for the job.

Sometimes complementary mini muffins are the only comfort in this cold dark world.

AO3 LINK

“But what if she doesn’t like me?” Jaune lamented, stopping and sitting at their table instead of working like he should have been.

“Don’t worry, she likes you,” Ren reassured him, jotting down something from his text book.

“But how do you know that?”

“I read her diary,” Nora shrugged, popping one of the complementary mini muffins into her mouth.

“You what?!” Jaune squaked, and winced when his tone drew the curious stares of nearby patrons. “You what?” he repeated, in an outraged whisper. “Why?”

“Well, she left it on her dresser when she went to track practice,” Nora explained to Jaune’s dumbfounded expression. “And Ren wasn’t around to stop me.” She said this like that explained everything, but it mostly just left Jaune gaping like a fish out of water.

“I am about ninety percent of Nora’s impulse control,” Ren reminded him, and plucked a mini muffin out of her hands without looking up from his book. “And no more muffins unless you don’t want to get pancakes for dinner.”

“Yes, Ren,” Nora sighed on reflex.”

“Nora, you can’t just read your roommate’s diary!” Jaune spluttered, flapping his arms about in an excellent impression of a drowning goose.

“In my defense, I didn’t know it was her diary at first. I thought it was just a very formal handwritten book.”

“The words “Dear Diary” didn’t clue you in at all?” Jaune asked, making quotes in the air with his fingers.

“She didn’t write “Dear Diary,” Nora retorted, copying his quotes with exaggerated gestures, “she just wrote the date. Besides, I don’t think she’ll get mad about me reading it.”

“Of course she won’t!” Jaune seethed as loudly as he could without drawing stares again. “She’s like the nicest, sweetest, forgivingest person who ever existed! You could pour boiling hot soup in her lap and she’d probably apologize.”

He slumped down in his chair and put his face in his arms. “I’ve really got it bad, don’t I?” he mumbled.

“You sure do, Jauney!” Nora said happily, ruffling his hair fondly.

“Shut up, Nora,” he grumbled, beating away her hands and fixing his unruly hair as best he could.

“I don’t think “forgivingest” is a word,” Ren commented.

“You also shut up,” Jaune muttered, his voice muffled behind his arms. “You aren’t helping.”

“But anyway, the morality of diary read aside, she definitely likes you,” Nora concluded, eyeing the mini muffins and wondering if the threat of no pancakes was worth the risk.

“But does she really?” Jaune asked, rolling his head to the side so he could gaze up at her with a truly pathetic expression on his face. “Like, girls don’t like me, Nora,” he explained, straightening up.

“What about Ruby?”

“She’s different,” Jaune said, waving away Ren’s comment. “I’ve known Ruby since forever, she’s like my sister.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you really need more of those,” Nora muttered, rolling her eyes.

Jaune plowed on like he hadn’t even heard her, and with how tunnel-visioned he was, maybe he really hadn’t heard her.

“No like, like me like me, ya know?” Jaune clarified, but not really. “I barely even get to the friend stage with most people, let alone with girls. I don’t think a girl has ever has a crush on me in all eighteen years of my life.”

He was running out of momentum, which was good, because she’d known him to rant for hours if you let him get a full head of steam. “So I need you to be totally, absolutely sure,” he was saying when she checked back into the conversation, “because I really like her, and just...ya know...I hope she likes me,” he concluded rather lamely, stealing one of the mini muffins Nora had been eyeing and stuffing it in his mouth.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working?” Ren asked, glancing up at his friend.

“Shush, I’m on break or something,” Jaune mumbled around a mouthful of muffin. “Neptune’ll cover for me.”

“I don’t know how many times we have to tell you before you get it,” Nora grumbled. “She’s into you! Why don’t you see it?!” she fumed, miming strangling him.

“But does-?”

“Yes! Yes she does!” Nora interrupted him, throwing her hands up in the air. “I read what she said about you, and if I have to read one more sentence about your cute butt and floofy hair, I think I might vomit.”

“You didn’t have to read the original sentences, to be fair,” Ren pointed out, pulling a different, and somehow larger, reference book out of his bag.

“Shush you.”

“She thinks it’s floofy?” Jaune asked, touching the messy curls and blushing with delight. “That- that’s a good thing, right?” he asked, looking unsure.

“I give up,” Nora announced, “You’re hopeless, and I give up.” Then she stood and marched dramatically away, already texting furiously to somebody.

“You think she’s serious about that?” Jaune asked his friend out of the corner of his mouth as he watched the red head push her way through the throng of exhausted students.

“I’ve never known Nora to be serious about anything,” Ren assured him, checking his phone when it buzzed with texts, undoubtedly from Nora. “She’ll be back soon enough, once you stop acting like an idiot.”

“Hey!” That’s not fair,” Jaune pouted.

“It’s true though, you’re being an idiot about this,” Ren argued, glancing in the direction of the door when the bell indicated that someone new entered the already crowded coffee shop.

“Now come on, that’s not even remotely true,” Jaune scoffed, and deflated a little under Ren’s skeptical look. “Okay, it’s not entirely true, but-”

Ren fixed him with a piercing look from through his glasses. Jaune could only hold his intense gaze for a few moments before he was forced to look away. “Jaune,” Ren started, face and voice softening, “Why is it so hard for you to believe that she cares for you?”

Jaune looked like he was trying to collapse in on himself. “Because...she’s just so fantastic,” he mumbled, not meeting Ren’s gaze, “And I’m just sort of...not, ya know?”

“Have we ever lied to you before?” Ren asked, closing his books.

“I- what?” Jaune looked more taken aback by the sudden topic change than anything else.

“Answer the question, please.”

“I mean, no I don’t think you have,” Jaune answered, looking confused. “But why are you asking?”

“I’m asking, because if we haven’t lied to you before, then why would we start now?” Ren explained, glancing up at someone over Jaune’s shoulder and waving them over.

“So believe us when we say that she does like you,” Ren reassured him, standing and packing up his things. He patted Jaune on the shoulder, breaking him out of his shock.

“I’ve got to go and make sure Nora hasn’t decided to break anything in the five minutes I wasn’t there to stop her,” Ren said, beckoning the same person over again. “Besides, I believe there’s something you need to talk about.”

“Talk about with who?” Jaune asked, turning around and blushing right to the roots of his hair at the sight of the person Ren was talking with. “Oh hey, Pyrrha!” he said in a much higher pitched tone of voice.

“I assume you got Nora’s text?” Ren asked, a little too knowingly.

“I- yes,” she said, glancing at Jaune before focusing on Ren. “She said you needed to speak with me?”

“Actually, it’s Jaune who need to speak with you,” Ren clarified, glancing at his phone. “You can take my seat, I’m leaving anyway.” Hopefully Jaune could handle this by himself.

Jaune could not handle this by himself.

His face was bright red, and he knew it. Curse you Ren and Nora for obviously setting him up with this impromptu and definitely not-casual meeting. He had to tell her, he was going to tell her. But as soon as she sat down, Pyrrha flicked her long ponytail over her shoulder, and smiled shyly just at him. And he forgot how to speak in complete sentences.

“So, what did you want to talk to me about?” she asked, smiling softly. Her eyes were twinkling like emeralds, and she was actually sitting there and speaking to him. Pyrrha Nikos was sitting and talking to him over coffee.

Sure they’d spoken before in class, but this was different. They weren’t talking about history and the social implications of whatever, they were talking about potential emotions and stuff.

Or at least they would be if Jaune could stop staring at her.

Thunderstruck: so are they talking??!?

Dad: I did my part. They’re at least sitting at the table together.

Thunderstruck: mission “get these two idiots to make out” is a go!

Literal Child: Ice Queen, are you in position?

Mom: I don’t understand why I have to be the one to do this.

Goldilocks: because youre the only one of us who drinks that much coffee while you study

Mr. Kitty Cat Meow Face: She’s right you know

Goldilocks: thanks babe <3

Mom: And what is the point of code names if they are only getting typed in a group text?

Literal Child: LESS TEXTING MORE WATCHING!!

Literal Child: And it’s not a real mission without code names!!

Ocean Man: Remind me why Jaune gets to take off work but I don’t

Monkey King: because youre the only one we could get who could cover for lover boy during this whole schtick

Ocean Man: Thanks dude I always knew you’d have my back

Mr. Kitty Cat Meow Face: Shouldn't you be working and not texting us

Ocean Man: Shut

“Jaune?” Pyrrha prompted, now looking concerned by his silence.

He couldn’t say anything. It was like he’d swallowed a golf ball. Why couldn’t he say anything?!

Mom: Oh no.

Thunderstruck: what? WHAT??!

Mom: That blonde dolt is too love struck to speak.

Literal Child: you’re kidding

Literal Child: you’re kidding right??

Ocean Man: Nah, I can confirm that he’s just sitting there

Goldilocks: oh come on lover boy pull it together

Dad: We did think that this was a possibility. He does have a tendency to freeze up.

Mr. Kitty Cat Meow Face: Wait if we saw this coming then why did we leave this up to Jaune

Monkey King: it was basically the only option

Thunderstruck: believe me, she’s not much better than him

Mom: Wait hold on, shut up, I think they’re saying something.

“Are you feeling okay, Jaune?” Pyrrha asked, concern clearly rising in her face. 

Come on, pull yourself together. You have to say something. Can’t just keep sitting here silence! Say something, anything! Anything but just sitting there staring at her like an idiot. And it was this thought that finally had Jaune creaking open his jaw and blurting out the first words that came to mind. 

“Nora read your diary,” he all but yelled, still sitting as straight as a board, and bright red in the face.

Mom: Oh for fuck’s sake, you idiot.

Ocean Man: Mission failed, we’ll get ‘em next time

Literal Child: Ice Queen report!! what happened??

Mom: He just told her that Nora read her diary.

Thunderstruck: new mission operative: don’t let him die from embarrassment

Thunderstruck: i want to kill him first

[arigatouiris]

the tinder date // shinshou hitoshi

Author’s Note: I am in LOVE with @myherowritings​ ‘You Suck at Gaming’ so I wanted to do something in appreciation, albeit a bit differently! So, this happened to me irl haha so I wanted to write about it~ I turned the real guy into Shinsou so that no one would know hahahaha I’m such a creep oh my god 

Word count: 3046

Pairing: Modern! Shinsou Hitoshi x Reader

Warnings: fluff, humor, smau 

❝

You never really wanted to use Tinder to meet new people, but ever since a terrible breakup, your friends, your classmates, your goddamn mind told you that you needed a push and maybe, just maybe, Tinder might do good. 

You weren’t a fan of the idea of meeting people using an app, which honestly, came across the same as buying groceries where some things were available and some things weren’t—you believed you couldn’t do that with people, and you believed with all your heart that people weren’t meant to be either swiped right on or swiped left on. Your heart was already weak as it was, and there was no way you were ready to emotionally invest in something real; at least for the time being.

So that lonely Friday night, you downloaded the app, created your profile, chose the perfect bio after 14 attempts at writing something about yourself, each time forgetting a vital piece of information. You didn’t start swiping right away, something about the process scared you—but there you were, mentally preparing yourself, telling yourself that it was okay, you were going to meet people on these dates and maybe, the app might be good for you, after all. 

You have heard success stories of people meeting via Tinder and having a great relationship and all that; some even find their best friends on the app, which is weird despite the social stigma attached to an app like Tinder. Some of your friends even know people who have gotten married and that’s the tea. You were not ready for either of those, maybe you’d get some coffee with a cute chap and maybe, just maybe, hold hands.

Alright, fine, make out or whatever.

But the prospect felt so wrong, you didn’t know what you would do if he turned out to be a creep. So, bucking it all up, swallowing your pride or what was left of it, you started to look at the men Tinder presented to you.

The very first picture was of a boy whose face revolted you—and if you thought that sounded rude, wait until you start complaining about the grapes he had for hair. 

The second boy was decent, but you were not going for decent on this app. You wanted something written on the bio—something that they were willing to communicate with, something you could identify with, something you can vibe with; and if you didn’t find anything like that, despite how cute the guy can be, you are swiping left on that ass.

It was after what felt like a thousand left swipes did you find someone a least bit attractive. But, you blinked—there was an odd feature under his profile; it was marked blue with a star.

Immediately opening WhatsApp, you texted your friend, Ochako, asking her what it was. Ochako being Ochako instantly called you.

     “Someone super liked you in less than an hour!?”

What in the world was a ‘super like’?

     “Ocha-chan, what’s a ‘super like?’” You rubbed your eyeball as you continued, “And what does it have to do with the fact that I’ve been on this app for less than an hour—”

     “Most super likes are usually done by creeps,” Uraraka didn’t hold back, “But sometimes, if someone really finds you attractive or interesting, you get a super like from a very decent guy. I heard one of my classmate’s brother’s friends met his boyfriend via the ‘super like’ feature!”

     “Y-Yeah, I’m not... I’m not looking for—”

     “It just means that whoever this person is, finds you interesting! So go through his profile and let me know what you think!”

You ended the call right then before going back on the app, finding his profile still open. You wouldn’t lie, he was very attractive—not in the way most people would flaunt over, but you couldn’t take your eyes off him. There was something about the way he was lazily smiling at the camera, or how the light fell on his lavender hair, or how he looked so unapologetically as himself. You then went on to read his bio.

If you matched not to start a conversation, then don’t swipe right. Being left alone is easy. 

It wasn’t all of the bio but this part of the bio somehow stuck to you. It was incredibly honest—and wasn’t the usual ‘interested in trekking’ or fancy words like ‘selenophile’ (words that you had to google basically). You noticed that in one of his pictures, he had a tattoo—of a particular animal but it was so minimalistic you could barely recognize it from the odd angle in the picture.

You swiped right and the pop up appeared ‘It’s a Match!’. Your heart skipped a beat for god knows what and you gulped, wondering what would come next. You didn’t even hold back before looking at the new chat screen. You gulped before shutting your phone and lying back on your bed, wondering what the ideal time to send him a message would be. 

Swallowing your leftover pride, you opened the chat once more and went ahead with, “Please don’t mind my stalker tendencies, but what is that tattoo on your hand?” You wanted to clarify some more that you were not a stalker, but held back.

You closed the app and felt your stomach grumble. This was the start of something—you were sure of that much, but you weren’t sure of what. And this person, Hitoshi, whose last name you did not know, seemed very interesting.

*

The next morning, you woke up to a Tinder notification. Your stomach flipped as the purple-haired boy’s face was your first thought and you instantly opened the message where he had explained that it was a tattoo of his cat.

Your heart melted at this gesture but you reminded yourself that you didn’t even know this person and there was no use feeling warm over one sentence. But, what came next sent your heart on overdrive.

Your eyes widened as you read the messages one by one,

You closed the app and almost screamed, but held yourself back; you figured this was a bad idea because the sound really needed to come out of you and you squealed like a dying animal just seconds after. You needed to tell someone this, but before that, you had to reply to that. You opened the app again with trembling fingers before figuring out what could be the most appropriate response to something like that.

Haha; No, that’s too lame. 

You’re so funny!; No fucking way! 

Ughh, what do I say? What do I say?! You had reached a slump. You had no words. So, you did what you do best—you went with your gut.

You slapped yourself in the forehead. There was no way you were going to live past this one—

You chuckled. He’s funny. You quickly were about to type a response before he added, “Just wanted to have a good conversation with someone new. Not intending on using this app to fornicate like lonely bunnies.”

You stared at the message before feeling a soft smile crawl on to your features. You felt the same, but this wasn’t supposed to happen, right? You weren’t supposed to agree with whatever a random Tinder match was saying, right? It wasn’t supposed to be this easy.

You replied, Same. Intending on great conversations because somehow, that’s taken the backseat these days.

No one really talks anymore, you thought before waiting for his reply. You didn’t know where this conversation would go, really, but you were intending on finding out. You never really chatted with anyone on Tinder before but you were curious as to why he super-liked you, and what this person had in store for you. It was strange, but you enjoyed this feeling. It wasn’t a crush, it had no expectations attached to it—yet, there was a fresh excitement bubbling in your stomach at the mere thought of some stranger talking to you.

You and Hitoshi kept chatting during random points of the day. You’d be cooking for yourself (since it was a weekend), or you’d be taking a dump or you’d try to take a nap—and a simple ping would send your heart to the skies. You didn’t know him for that long, it had been less than a whole day since you two matched, but somehow, talking to him about random things really helped keep your spirits high. You felt genuinely happy—and the excitement kept you going.

You stared at the conversation and wondered why it wasn’t as easy with people you really did know in life. You wondered why people didn’t have time for conversation unless it’s a stranger—isn’t that the entire point of it all? To talk, to spread joy, to ponder on life’s meaninglessness together?

You blinked. Boarding a flight? To where? You wanted to ask, but you really didn’t want to come across as some prying clingy individual. You were curious though.

Oh! Where to?

You hoped that the message sounded less inquisitive and more cheerful for god knows what reason.

Going to Reykjavik for a week. Always wanted to see the lights.

He’s going to... ICELAND?! You felt strangely excited and disappointed, but the fact that he had no obligation to meet you stung.

However—

Your heart shot to the skies. You wanted to respond immediately, but you held back. Clearing your throat, you replied earnestly.

Sure. Looking forward to it! 

And that was that.

*

You never knew how well you could jump to overthinking, especially when it came to strangers. You knew Hitoshi (whatever his last name was) was in Iceland right now, and that only meant that considering the time differences, there would be little to no text messages.

What you didn’t understand was why you got no notifications in three days. A suspicious thing, because Tinder usually throws a thousand notifications at you especially when you don’t want to check them. So, being the inquisitive little cat that you are, you opened the app. Only to find that your account on Tinder is banned.

     “What...” You blinked a couple of times before closing the app and opening it again, “What the fuck!?”

You didn’t know what to do at this point. How could it have been banned? There were no ill comments, no ugly or obscene photographs of you from your end, then why did Tinder ban your account?

You went through the community guidelines and found nothing. Your heart was breaking—Hitoshi must have thought you unmatched him (Ochaco once told you that if you unmatch someone’s profile, they won’t see your chats anymore). You couldn’t even log in, you couldn’t even let him know that it was Tinder cockblocking you and not you being an idiot. Oh, god, why!? You screamed into your pillow, wondering how this could have happened before calling Ochako to help calm you down.

     “How the hell can they ban you?” She asked, causing you to roll your eyes.

     “If I knew that then I would have done something else, Ocha-chan!”

     “Okay, okay. So let’s do this. Find him on Facebook and send him a message saying Tinder banned you. It has to be a bug from their end. I’ve read that it happens to a lot of random profiles.”

You blinked. Really? Or was she simply just trying to pacify you? You didn’t care, you needed the pacifying.

     “But, I don’t know his surname...”

     “(y/n)-chan,” Ochako took a deep breath, “You spoke to him for two days and you didn’t take his surname!?”

You undermined yourself pretty hard in the past, but right now, it had reached the pinnacle of it all. You felt low, you had lost the prospect of not only great conversations but a cute boy who even asked you out.

     “Try finding him on LinkedIn.” Ochako said, and you blinked.

     “LinkedIn?”

You could practically hear her nod, “Yeah. Just type in his workplace or education, whatever you remember from the Tinder app, and his first name. It should show you a result that matches.”

You couldn’t wait to try. You opened your laptop, while Ochako was on call, and did exactly as she told you. You typed in ‘Hitoshi’ and then his workplace, some gaming studio—for the life of you you couldn’t pronounce it, and your eyes widened. The first result was ‘Shinsou Hitoshi’.

     “Oh my God,” You gasped, “I found him!”

Ochako giggled, “Is it really him?”

     “I’d really not mistake that face anywhere, Ocha-chan! You’re a genius!”

     “Of course,” She said, giggling, “Send him a message then!”

Doubt said hello a second after, “But what if he thinks I’m some stalker?”

     “Tell him your account got banned. Just be honest. He might even appreciate the effort.”

You weren’t too sure about that, actually. Your hand ghosted over his profile before attempting to send a message; but, apparently, LinkedIn wouldn’t let you send a message to someone new—someone you didn’t already have any connections with. When you mentioned this to Ochako, you wondered if you were the stalker or if she was.

     “He’s on Facebook, (y/n)-chan. Just go for it!”

You gulped before opening Facebook, wondering all the while if this was entirely normal for anyone to do for a Tinder date, before typing in his name. It was the same picture he had put of himself on Tinder, and you gulped, unsure of what to send. Again, you did what you do best—went with your gut.

Hey! This is (y/n), from Tinder. So long story short, my account got banned and idek why. I just wanted to let you know that I didn’t unmatch/ghost you. I didn’t want to leave you hanging so I turned into an interim stalker to let know you this. Is there any way we can contact each other besides Tinder?

You breathed slowly, as slowly as you possibly could. You could feel a weird numbness asphyxiating you, unaware of how to proceed or what would happen next. You shut your eyes and released a breath, before falling back on the bed.

     “What’s wrong?” You could hear the worry in Ochako’s voice.

     “I don’t know...” Nothing made sense anymore.

Did you like Shinsou? You weren’t sure—but what you were sure of was how little you knew him. Was that enough? Was the fact that you had never met come into play here? Just because the conversation was easy? Or was it merely the idea of meeting someone through a dating app? You couldn’t like him. Maybe, it was a crush.

But, can you have a crush on someone you didn’t even know?

You heard a ping and you felt that familiar stomach flipping sensation you knew so well in school. You never realized how much that feeling was missed ever since you grew up.

You were quite practically rolling and squealing at the same time. Ochako joined you, not knowing what the reply was but she was merely just happy for you. 

     “He replied!”

     “In like ten minutes! So fast!”

You didn’t know how he could reply, considering the time difference and everything, but that didn’t matter. He had given you his number, and you were going to text him and that was that. 

     “So, should I text him now?”

Ochako hummed, “Not now. Wait till the morning.”

So, you waited until the next morning. As soon as you woke up, you remembered the details Ochako had given you and you carefully composed a message in your head. Saving the number into your contacts, you tried to send him a message—but it failed.

Heh? You thought before trying again, with each attempt failing each time. You felt nervous, wondering if something was wrong with your phone, before realizing you were late for work. 

Ugh, you thought before sending him another message, not bothered to tell Ochako about this.

Hey, so I can’t seem to send you a message, why don’t you ping me instead? It’s xy-xyx-xxxxx. 

As soon as you reached work, you forgot entirely that you had even sent him that message. For some reason, your manager seemed to know you had other things in your mind and was intending on squeezing the life out of you. You had never worked so hard in the entirety of your life but that Thursday, you felt God’s wrath. After 9 hours of painful clock time, you began to head home, feeling incredibly tired and done with everything there was about adulthood.

You checked your phone for the first time in 9 hours and your heart skipped a beat. Shinsou had sent you two messages, one on Facebook—

—and one on WhatsApp.

You freaked before replying to him, apologizing for the wait—apologizing internally a thousand times; and wondered if you’d get a response real quick. Judging from where you were, you realized you needed to get home first.

As soon as you reached home, you threw your bag on the bed and checked your phone again—nothing. You sighed before getting some food, constantly looking over at your phone, wondering what had gotten into you, wondering if you were the only one flipping over a Tinder date like this. You were sure Shinsou wouldn’t be responding the same way; he was in Iceland, he probably wasn’t even thinking of you! And yet, here you were, thinking about him all through your day.

You felt strangely pathetic. Were you so lonely that you couldn’t live without this minor excitement that a random stranger was giving you? It felt so odd.

You spent the next two days, not texting him. You wondered if you were intentionally ghosting him, but he hadn’t texted you either. You felt low, being proven that he had better things to do, but you had gotten your answer. Serves you right that you were excited over someone you didn’t even know. Serves you right for jumping over your head for a Tinder match. 

You sighed before hearing the familiar ‘ping’ of your phone.

You smiled a bit, feeling the sides of your cheek hurt. 

Sure, but won’t you be tired?

It was a second later did Shinsou reply to that. You stared as the conversation rolled on, before knowing for a fact that you weren’t meeting him tomorrow. Maybe on Tuesday? You thought, giving yourself the benefit of the doubt.

His message only proved that he did want to see you. So, that means, you weren’t the only one wanting to see the other person. This being clarified to you made it easier for you to accept your obsession over the purple-haired male, but you had to restrain yourself.

When Tuesday morning rolled by, you were very close to giving up. You texted Ochako all day, asking her if he had given up interest in you or if you were annoying or clingy or desperate and she assured you that you were neither of those things. She told you that you were overthinking, that Shinsou was probably busy, he went back to work after Iceland, so maybe he had a lot to catch up on.

You didn’t know when you took a blow to your confidence, but you had and it bothered you. You wondered if it was alright to test everything on one random Tinder match, but you sighed, giving up the entire thought process. You raged inside your head, but there was very little clarity left. You decided to let the day pass and see if he was going to text you.

He didn’t. 

It ran past 12 p.m. You had lunch on your own, staring at your phone the whole time, wondering if he had forgotten even. You felt your energy reduce in intensity before spamming Ochako about what to do. 

You couldn’t bear the thought of him losing interest in you, and you didn’t know why. He seemed interested, your conversations were really fun—you had a few things in common and he asked you out twice! 

What went wrong? Was he really that busy? Was he bored with you? Was he cat-fishing you?

It was then you saw a message pop in.

Hey, sorry about not texting. I’ve come down with a cold. The date’ll need to wait.

Your heart skipped three beats. You sighed before wondering why you hadn’t thought of the possibility of him being sick. You replied a genuine, ‘take care’, but in your heart—it was as if the universe was saying this wasn’t going to happen. You didn’t bother to see his further replies; you weren’t blaming him for being sick, you were blaming yourself for being so overtly excited by someone you didn’t know.

He’s just a Tinder match, you thought before collapsing on your bed after coming home. 

Ochako called you that night, and you revealed to her in detail about what you were feeling.

     “What’s wrong?”

You sighed, “I'm lonely. And I'm lonely in some horribly deep way and for a flash of an instant, I can see just how lonely, and how deep this feeling runs. And it scares the shit out of me to be this lonely because it seems catastrophic.” 

Ochako was quiet. 

     “Do you think Tinder was a bad idea?”

You scoffed, “It has to be. It just showed me how lonely I am. That’s what these apps do! They show you how pathetic you are, how lonely you are on the inside and it’s just... It just sucks.”

You don’t remember falling asleep that night. It was a Friday, and you knew what work had in store for you. However, you had nothing on your mind—you forced the thought of Shinsou to the back of your mind before walking into work with a clear head. You worked all day, ate lunch alone, worked again—not checking your phone, not bothered to read or be interested in anything remotely online. 

As soon as work was done, from the corner of your eye, you noticed notifications. You shook your head before rushing on home, before realizing you weren’t watching where you were going. 

Your office was on an incredibly important street. Sometimes, you met people you never thought you’d meet—schoolmates, enemies from the past, old teachers. You were thankful that you worked in such a location but sometimes, just sometimes, the fact that you worked on such a busy street proved to be a tad bit too... cliche.

You look up and your eyes met with purple locks and wide black eyes, shocked at seeing your form just as shocked as you were seeing his.

     “(y/n)?”

You blinked, gasped and stood up straight.

     “Did you follow me?”

Shinsou chuckled, “I think this is what they’d call a coincidence.”

Your cheeks suddenly felt warm, and you wondered how in the world he had shown up there before—

—his arm extended forward, a soft smile on his features.

     “Can I take you out for coffee then? You can’t imagine how long I’ve been waiting.”

I can’t imagine? You giggled before shaking his hand, I think I can.

❞

[sugarandspice-games]

I guess this is becoming a trend... I’m popping in before the actual intro to clarify-- if the text is in italic, it is me (Sugar) talking and regular is Spice. Alright? Cool. And so--

So, one night I’m going through youtube and I come upon this one shitposty video about some random anime that I’ve never even heard of. After doing some research, I discover that it’s actually based on a dating sim that I’ve also never heard of. As a joke I was like “Hey Sugar wanna watch this as a joke, it might be funny” and so we did. And uhm. Well.

Today we’re gonna be reviewing Brothers Conflict, aka Sweet Home Alabama 2: Electric Anime Boogaloo aka the anime that ruined our lives. [Again, disclaimer: neither Sugar nor I condone incest and/or pedophilia, two themes which are uh, very rampant in this anime which is why I cannot recommend it in good faith. It’s not good, don’t get me wrong. I can’t really say that I liked it even if watching it and ragging on it was kind of enjoyable, and I did get attached to some of the characters because that’s the kind of idiot I am. Also, we’re not shirking our duties to write I swear please don’t kill me--] Anyway, an obligatory SPOILER WARNING though this probably isn’t going in the main tag bc I do not want the fans to publicly stone me. Why are we reviewing this? Bc we need to talk about it somewhere. Though I say review lightly bc this... is really more of a critique.

ALSO we only watched the anime, idk if things are different in the game. There is no full english translation for the games and most of the LP channels have been copyright striked, so please don’t come at us for not knowing anything. I also know that otome games and dating sims don’t tend to translate well to anime, and I will be addressing this later.

So, dear god, where do I begin.

Where do we begin indeed? How about the fact that her name is Ema and I had to google to remember the heroine’s name? Also, she is seventeen.

Our plot, or well... what you COULD call a plot, I guess, if you REALLY wanted to give this anime that much credit, focuses on the aforementioned seventeen year old Hinata Ema, who has an absent father who apparently FOUND THE TIME TO FALL IN LOVE AND GET MARRIED BUT NEVER HAS A SECOND TO SPARE FOR HIS ONLY CHILD, RINTARO I SWEAR TO GOD I AM TAKING CUSTODY OF YOUR CHILD. HAND HER OVER-- Anyway. He’s getting married to a woman who has 13 sons (jesus christ ma’am have you ever heard of a condom?) and he decides to move her in with them because... I guess he has less braincells than I have balls, which is to say, zero. Hi, I’m trans.

So, Ema moves in with them... along with her talking grey squirrel, Juli. Juli is... interesting and by interesting, I mean-- ABSOLUTELY PUZZLING. He, apparently, has seen the majority of Ema’s life from babyhood to teenagerhood and can talk but is only understood by Ema (who he calls Chii) and Louis, the eighth son in the Asahina family. It is never explained why, or how Chii came across him or how in an episode, a single episode, he becomes human because why the hell not, I guess??? (Also, he is pretty. YES. I said it. Fight me.) [Quick Spice intervention, this squirrel can talk to people, transform into a human, enter dreams, and live way longer than a squirrel should since the average lifespan of a squirrel is like 6 years in the wild. Juli is apparently a god as none of this is EVER explained.]

And when she meets the Asahina family, it’s pretty much immediately chaos because these heterosexual (I guess? They look like a bunch of twinks to me but there goes anime trying to convince me that straight people are real and not a lie made up by Trump) men have NEVER and I mean NEVER known a woman in their entire lives, since they seem to want to bang their stepsister immediately. And most of them are GROWN ASS ADULTS. Only three of them are actually minors (though Iori is 18 and only one year older so I guess??? It’s okay??? But still weird) and one of them is a 13 year old who looks and acts like he’s 8.

Oh, and did I mention that out of these boys, only the adult triplets and the abusive asshole 16 year old get any kind of characterization AND character development? I mean, Subaru gets an “arc” if you can call it that, but really, they don’t give him much... personality. You could replace him with a cardboard cutout and it’d be the same. I feel bad for him (but not really because dude you are 20 and she is your sister, what the fuck--)

But if there’s anything good about this anime, it is the characters themselves. Several of the boys have redeeming qualities and interesting personalities and quirks, as well as interesting relationships and dynamics with each other. Yes, some of them are lacking in the plotline department while others may have decent plotlines and lack personality, and then some of them are just given absolutely nothing (COUGH Masaomi COUGH Ukyo COUGHCOUGHCOUGH Iori, and by the way, what the fuck is that game plotline bc I read the wiki since I wanted to know more about him. We don’t have time to unpack the mento illness luv. But you’re telling me they had all this meat to work with and they threw it in the trash and gave him nothing? What the hell?) And if anything, I feel as if the characters themselves are crippled by the plotline. If given a different story, perhaps, they may have room to shine, because a lot of them are compelling if not lovable (though some may not be... lovable. COUGHFuuto, at least not for me.) If you want to see our review on the characters, we’ll put out another post.

Iori... Iori has a hell of a plot in the game, according to the Wiki but I can’t blame the writers for not exploring all of it because whoa. It is dark and not in a good way. But back to the subject at hand... I agree with Spice. I do/did like quite a lot of the characters... provided the entire romantic plot is taken away but we will go into more of why the plot is problematic below. All I can really add is: There is a baby in this dumpster and canon has been taken out back to be shot like a lame horse.

This brings me to a point in which I would like to pause the character discussion and bring up a glaring flaw with this anime in general (aside from the... plot. Look, I’m not a huge fan of weird stepsibling stuff but I think that if you want to do something like that, there are ways to do it and ways not to do it. This was the way not to do it, which I’m getting to). The biggest thing that made this anime so uncomfortable was the imbalance of power dynamics. Why is the protagonist 17 when most of the love interests are 18 and older, and I mean much, much older? And she’s not any 17 year old... she’s a lonely, neglected girl who is starved for the love of a family. This makes her easily manipulated by the brothers, who clearly desire her for less than wholesome reasons, and that makes it skeevy. I’m not sure why there’s such a fetishization of nonconsent in media, as if it’s fine for as many men to lust after female protagonists as the writer desires BUT the woman can’t want a single one of them in return. It’s creepy, and quite frankly, I am very much over it. I also get that the age thing is probably a product of the protagonist of a teenager oriented dating sim not translating well to an anime (because really, all otome game MCs are meant to be a neat little pair of shoes for the player to imagine themselves in), but why are we fetishizing a teenager being groomed by adults anyway? Especially adults who have this much power over her to begin with? The power dynamics bring this plot from “Oh, this might be kinda trashy but it could be entertaining” to “This is extremely creepy and rapey and kind of a dumpster fire.”

This is also true. If we were to take age into consideration, Fuuto, Yusuke, and Iori would be the three candidates left for Chii. This is taking out the youngest as well, who is... thirteen, I think? But anyway, (I know I am probably going to get some hate for this but go for it), I am into stories that explore the stepsibling thing and it can make a good narrative-- but before everyone gets uppity: There is a line between FICTION and REALITY and I do not condone real life incest but a story is a story and there are ways to frame it that make it clear that it is not a romantic thing, or acceptable. This anime does not do that in it’s dynamics because some of the brothers do start off in that very firm caregiving, family role and it is a sharp turn into romance that makes you go, “?” or in Fuuto case, a blending that does lean into fetishization.

All in all I think the plot maybe could have been okay? I’m not saying it isn’t problematic, because we all know it is, who are we kidding? But I don’t think it’s wrong per se to explore family dynamics with romance and to understand where the line should be drawn, and maybe exploring the definition of family itself. I have seen fanfictions with similar tropes ask those questions and explore the concept beautifully without romanticizing or fetishizing incest and unhealthy power dynamics. It could have been good, and I get that perhaps I’m barking up the wrong tree by expecting mature themes in an anime based on an otome game, but it also could have been a lot less... creepy (I have used that word so much that it looks wrong now) even if it wasn’t the greatest thing ever. But again, what was I expecting? I watched this whole thing as a joke and ended up attached to the characters like a fool... That tends to be a trend here, and this is why we are so salty all the time. So anyway, stay tuned for our review of the characters! We may not cover all of them since some of them don’t really get anything, but we’ll cover what we found interesting.

[bekahdoesnerdshit]

cog! indifference because I feel like that’s not a very cog thing she tends to feel. also: disgust! enthusiasm! raini: panic! mischief! ............ lust??? for auriga: frustration... excitement... boredom! ayen: anxiety, confusion!

Already answered disgust and enthusiasm for Cog, and mischief for Raini! Great minds, great minds, the group chat shares one braincell, etc. etc. 

Cog

Indifference: I think Cog struggles to process and express a lot of negative emotions, because she’s made such a conscious choice to repress put them out of her mind in pursuit of positivity. But she can get angry! She can get snippy because she’s stressed and hasn’t slept enough! But even then, even though the emotion is negative, at least she’s feeling and doing something. She’s taking a stand! She’s acting in defense of something she believes in! Indifference, though? It’s passive, it’s an inaction, it’s giving up. She has a bleeding heart, she isn’t capable of just turning that off and deciding she doesn’t care. If Cog gets to the point of indifference, it’s because she’s physically and emotionally exhausted. There’s too many morally gray choices she’s being forced to make, and there’s never a “right” answer, and everything she does hurts someone who doesn’t deserve it. Cog’s indifference is head down, shoulders hunched, tired eyes and still, folded hands. It’s pulling back from the conversation around her and letting the rest of the party decide the right course of action instead of weighing in and trying to steer them toward a more morally upstanding decision. She’s tired, and there’s no time to rest, and there’s no objective “good” to push toward. What does it matter what decision they make in the face of that? 

Raini

Panic: Flighty! If I had to pick one word- which I do not because as yesterday’s ask proved I have never in my life heard of “brevity”- panicked Raini is flighty. Whether that just means skittish in the moment, moving quickly from spot to spot as things Spook her, or if that means leaving the situation entirely with a Dimension Door or Teleport, she is not going to stay in one place very long at all. Her movements when she talks get a lot more jerky and abrupt, and she loses most of her intentionally cultivated air of aloofness evaporates. I don’t think it comes to this very often! I think it takes a lot to rattle Raini to the point of panic. But, you know, again. Sometimes you kill the goddess of magic, or whatever. Sometimes you’re staring down the barrel of an attack you know you won’t survive, and you have enough time to whip around to face your party with wide eyes before the blade of a sword that’s nearly as long as you are tall sinks home in your stomach, and you have just a second to panic because. What if this is the end? Are the others going to try to help you? Why would they? They don’t have to! I think, of just about every emotion, panic is the one Raini hates the most. You’re helpless, it means you’ve lost your head, and you’re just grossly out of control of the situation. Pass! Hard fucking pass!!! Lust: You just want to know how she acts when Ecstasy is visiting and that’s Fair but you have to own it.  Raini who’s trying to Get some is honestly like. Essentially unrecognizable. Y’all know that “oh, with the horns!! you’re so funny!” text post? But like, for real. And maybe 40% sarcastic? She’s SO more touchy than she usually is, especially on the bicep or upper thigh if they’re sitting down. Lots of lip biting, lots of stolen glances through eyelashes, and honestly? I think she’s very much the type of person to just circle while she flirts. We’re playing coy a little, but we’re also moving a little closer on each pass, so read into that what you will. Also! It’s definitely a competition to her, in a weird way? Like she’s super pale, so any amount of blushing shows up super clearly, but she will Not acknowledge it because that is losing. Somehow. Even though we all know how the night ends anyway. And while there are no losers when it comes to having sex with someone who is very hot very sensual very sexy, Raini does Not generally get to maintain her pride to the extent she would like to those nights. Is that too much information? Maybe so! But you asked, So! (Also again I Know this is non-verbal BUT such a big part of Raini flirting is banter. What’s the point of spending time on someone who already can’t keep up with you outside the bedroom?)

Auriga

Frustration: I think, in an incredibly ambitious and unprecedented move, I have finally created a character who is a wellspring of patience. He’s an elf, a cleric, a ruler, and a middle child. Technically. He has a fuse, because everybody does, but it’s probably literally about a mile long. But like, as a result? When it’s done, he’s done. He finally gets fed up trying to explain something to someone? Well, that’s it. His expression is still placid and pleasant, because he was Raised Well, but he’s written them off entirely. Too stupid to make understand, to slow to bother with. He’s had too much of a frustrating situation? It’s hopeless. There’s nothing to be done about it. Someone else is going to have to take care of it. He pulls back entirely behind manners and decorum, smiles politely but coldly, and excuses himself from the situation as soon as is respectable. Excitement: Aww this was so sweet to think about. Generally, Auriga is a pretty reserved person! The centuries of High Expectations (and a seven charisma) will do that to you! Can’t put your foot in your mouth if you don’t open it in the first place! But when he’s excited, he lights up. You get a real, not practiced smile, and soft touches on your forearm or shoulder. Still respectable!! But small, fleeting moments of intimacy, urging the other person to be as excited as he is about what is, in fairness, probably some pretty lame shit. I think he’s also very likely to default to drawing pictures to explain whatever he’s talking about so that the other person can see exactly what he means. Someone who engages and asks the right questions can absolutely get him to talk for hours about a given topic, when before that they may have heard barely a handful of words from him. Boredom: I’m making this character choice now and I may come to regret it when we start to actually play but I don’t care: Auriga’s default when he’s bored is to start to doze off. Like, has he had a lot of practice sitting in council meetings for long hours, debating circles around the same topic without making much, if any, progress? Sure! But that’s, bless him, something he finds interesting. Somehow. If it’s something he has absolutely zero interest in though (like, for example, a stuffy, boring play he’s obligated to attend out of professional courtesy? hypothetically) I think he’ll try to focus for a while? Because he was raised right, he has manners. But eventually his chin finds its way to his palm, and his eyes start to droop, and idk if mechanically elves can sleep and just don’t or if he’s just trancing in the middle of a public place (which I guess would be less conspicuous, technically?) but our boy is No Longer Paying Attention. 

Ayen

Anxiety: Anxious Ayen is fidgety. Bounce the leg! Continually summon and dismiss various small hexblade weapons! Open your hand, close it around the handle of a dagger. Open it agin and let the dagger disappear in a puff of smoke, close it again around a weird crooked sickle. Open your hand and let the sickle disappear, close it again around-- And so on, and so forth. I think she gets worked up really easily when she’s anxious, gets kinda jumpy, and is definitely ready to shoot off at a moment’s notice to go do whatever there is to do that will get rid of or distract from her anxiety.  (Also I know the original prompt was ‘non-verbal’ but it’s important to me that you know that she for sure talks to herself when she’s anxious, like. “Okay Ayen, you got this. We have no clue what the Fuck is going on, but we’re gonna pull it together and take it the fuck out. Alright? Alright.”) Confusion: Ayen is that classmate you sit next to in like some fuckoff high level math class, and the professor is talking and you realize you have No idea what they’re talking about? And you look over at Ayen to see if she can clarify anything, and she’s already writing “bro idfk” on the corner of her notes for you to read. If Ayen’s confused she’s gonna default to thinking it’s funny, because like. Can’t look stupid if you’ve decided the stuff you don’t understand is stupid first! So she’ll laugh, and shrug real big, and make a show of not caring what’s going on, because that saves face. That’s dumbshit nerd stuff, she is Way too cool for that.

[girls-scenarios]

Escape With Me

Idol: Yoojung (Weki Meki)

Prompt: Hi, my request is a fem reader x weme yoojung scenario: they both like each other but they’re oblivious about it, the reader wants to ask yoojung for the school dance but it’s afraid she’ll get rejected and because of that, the r don’t get to ask her on time, this leads yoojung to go to the prom with some random boy, angst and fluff ending please :)

Writer: Admin Kiwi

A/N: I meant to have this up so long ago I’m so sorry. Also I made the reader gender-neutral (and yes, some prom dresses have pockets, before you ask. Mine did). I hope you all enjoy!

♡ Tip Jar♡

You’d liked Yoojung pretty much from the moment you met her. She was cute, funny, upbeat, and smart. She was always there to make you laugh, and she could always lift the mood of a room. In fact, she was the life of the party, and you weren’t the only person who had fallen for her because of it. You were just one of many of her admirers. Except you happened to be her close friend, too. And that made it difficult.

“I don’t know why you think that,” Elly said, and you glared at her from where you were laying her floor, arms spread out.

“I’m baring my soul, here.”

“I know, but you’re being dramatic!” Your friend shook her head and sat up from where she was sitting on her beanbag chair. “Listen, being friends with her gives you a leg up, if anything. She knows you better, so she’s more likely to accept your feelings.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“That’s how I started dating Suyeon,” she pointed out, and you sighed. That was true, the two of them had been friends before Elly confessed and they started going out. “Plus, you guys are pretty tight. I think she likes you too.”

“Don’t be silly. She treats me like a friend.”

“Okay, true. But she spends a lot of time with you and she’s always willing to share her snacks with you, which is something because I’ve known her longer and she’d break my hand if I tried to take one.”

“Is the snack thing really the best argument you can come up with? She shares her snacks with Doyeon too.” You rolled your eyes and sat up. “Obviously, it’s not just me.”

“Whatever, I’m tired of trying to help you,” Elly said, sticking out her tongue at you childishly. “What made you suddenly remember your unrequited feelings anyway?”

“Prom is coming up.”

“Oh. Good point. I totally forgot.”

“Elly! How could you forget? There’s posters everywhere!”

“I guess I just didn’t notice them.” She shrugged, then narrowed her eyes. “Wait, was Suyeon even going to ask me? When is Prom?”

“In a month.”

“Huh. I’ll have to talk to her about that.” She pouted her bottom lip as she pulled out your phone, and you sighed, knowing that the conversation was over now that she was distracted. Looking down at your own phone, you saw that there was a text from Yoojung, and for a moment, your heart jumped, only for you to shake your head at yourself as you saw the contents.

-Yo! Wanna go off campus for lunch tomorrow? I got coupons!

A whole line of stickers was attached after the message, making you laugh softly. She was so weird, but in a good way.

-Let’s do it.

-Lit! See you then!

“Are you texting Yoojung now?” Elly’s voice made you jump, and you felt your cheeks blush as you looked up.

“Well, yeah.”

“What are you texting about?”

“She invited me to go off for lunch with her tomorrow.”

“Ooh, it’s a date!”

“I doubt it, I’m sure Doyeon will be there too,” you said, causing Elly to groan.

“I give up. You’re hopeless.”

-

Elly had been right: you were hopeless. When you walked out to Yoojung’s car, fully expecting Doyeon to be there, you almost couldn’t believe your eyes when you saw her standing there alone, looking at her phone. Doyeon must have canceled, you thought to yourself as you put on a smile.

“Hey, Yoojung. Ready to go?” At your voice, the small girl looked up and beamed at you, putting away her phone.

“(Y/N)! Yeah, let’s go!”

As you walked around to the side of her car, you glanced into the back seat, half expecting to see Doyeon there. She wasn’t there, however, and you raised your eyebrows. Had Yoojung really asked you out on a lunch date? “Was Doyeon not able to come this time?” You asked, trying to be nonchalant as you closed the car door and buckled in. Yoojung glanced at you, a hint of some emotion you couldn’t recognize crossing her face, before she smiled and shook her head.

“I just invited you, silly. Did you want her to come along, are we not close enough to go to lunch together yet?”

“Oh, I was just wondering!” You waved your hands, quickly backtracking as Yoojung laughed. “I didn’t mean it like that!”

“I’m just teasing you, (Y/N). I know you were just curious.”

Letting out a sigh, you pressed your hand to your heart. “You tease me too much, seriously.” When you looked back at her, she was looking at the road, the same expression on her face from before, and you swallowed, not knowing how to interpret it. So instead, you tried to wave away the awkward atmosphere, not wanting to give yourself any hopes. “Um, so what’s for lunch today?”

“Burgers, is that okay?”

“Sounds good to me!”

-

“Hey, are you going to prom this year?” Yoojung’s voice was light, like she didn’t know how her words made your heart stop for a moment. She probably didn’t, but it was still a problem as you tried not to choke on the fry you’d just taken a bite of.

“U-um, maybe, why do you ask?”

“Just wondering! I didn’t want to go if my friends weren’t going.” She took a sip of her drink and looked down at her phone. “It wouldn’t be any fun then.”

“Has no one asked you to go with them yet?” The question fit in the conversation, but you were also asking to soothe your own curiosity. “I was half expecting you and Doyeon to go together, since you went together last year.”

“As friends,” Yoojung clarified, looking up at you with that same emotion from earlier on her face. “I haven’t been asked yet this year. Have you?”

“Well, no.” You looked down at the food in front of you, butterflies acting up in your stomach. You were nervous, but still, you at least wanted to give her a snippet of what was going on in your head. Maybe if you gave her a hint, she would ask you instead. “I have someone I want to ask, though.”

“Oh really?” She raised her eyebrows and leaned forward, and you could feel yourself heating up. “Who?”

“I-I don’t want to say yet!”

“Fine, fine. You’d better do it soon, though, prom is just around the corner.” She looked back down at her phone and you willed your heart to calm down as you took a deep breath and glanced at her. She was so cute, would you really be able to do this?

“Hey, Yoojung?”

“Yeah?” She looked up at you, fry halfway to her mouth and a little smile on her face, and the words died in your throat. You couldn’t tell her, not yet. Instead, you put on a little smile of your own and glanced at the time on your phone.

“Isn’t it time we start heading back?”

“Oh. Well, I guess.”

-

“You could have asked her out right then and you didn’t. You’re an idiot,” Suyeon deadpanned, rolling her eyes from her side of the desk as you whined and buried your face in your hands.

“I couldn’t! She’s too cute, and I don’t think I could handle being turned down by her. Plus, what if it hurt our friendship? I’d hate myself forever!”

“You’re being dramatic again. Just ask her as a friend, and then if she wants it to be a real date, she’ll tell you. Plus, from the way she was acting, I’m sure she’s into you too. Just go for it,” Elly said, leaning her head on her girlfriend’s shoulder and giving you a smile. With a sigh, you looked down at your phone. Her contact was up, and you were staring at her photo, which was probably kind of creepy but you were too lovesick to care.

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Because it is. Just do it. Channel your inner Shia LaBeouf or Nike model and just do it.”

“That was a really lame reference, Suyeon love.”

“I thought it was good.”

“I’m saying this because I love you but never make a dead meme reference again please.”

“That’s a dead meme?”

You groaned and shook your head as you watched your friends go back into their own little world, leaving you and your problems behind. What help they were. Once again, you looked back at your phone, but to your surprise, there was a text from Yoojung on the screen.

-Dude, are you free this weekend?

-Yeah, why?

-Wanna go to the mall?

Your heart started to race again, before you remembered: Doyeon was probably going. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment before you made your decision.

-I’m down! Will Doyeon be there?

-Is that your running question now? Lol no but I can invite her if you want

-Nah it’s okay, I was just curious! I have a book to give her

It was a lie, but you needed an excuse as to why you kept asking, otherwise Yoojung would probably get suspicious.

-Oh okay. So we’re on for this weekend? Friday maybe?

-Yeah, I’m down!

-Cool, see you then!

“I can tell you’re texting Yoojung, you’ve got a dumb smile on your face,” Suyeon said, snapping you out of it as she leaned over to pull your phone out of your hands.

“Hey! Give that back!”

“Awe, they’re going on a date on Friday.”

“It’s hardly a date,” you refuted, pulling the phone back away. “It’s just hanging out. She called me ‘dude’ that’s not what you call someone you like.”

“I call Elly dude all the time.”

Elly let out a long-suffering sigh. “Unfortunately.”

“Listen,” the older girl said, ignoring Elly, “she’s probably just calling you dude because it’s natural for her. She uses that word a lot. It has nothing to do with whether she likes you or not.”

“Also,” Elly spoke up, “she sounded salty that you asked about Doyeon. And your excuse was kinda lame.”

“Oh.” You looked down at your phone, suddenly nervous. “She doesn’t think I’d rather hang out with Doyeon than her, right?”

“She might, you’re kind of dumb when it comes to these things. But then again, so is she, so who knows.”

“That’s not very encouraging, babe.”

“What, I’m just telling the truth!”

As the two once again disappeared into their own world, you closed your eyes and leaned back in your chair, feeling exhausted. Why did liking someone have to be so hard?

-

When Friday came, you found yourself dressing nicer than usual. You’d done it without thinking, but now that you were waiting, glancing at your reflection in a store window, you wondered if it was too much. You hadn’t overdone it, right? Just as you started to wonder if you should go home and change, a familiar voice called your name and you turned around to see Yoojung running towards you.

Immediately, a smile made its way onto your face, because she was just so cute. She was wearing a cute white and blue dress with her white tennis shoes and her hair curled and held back by a thick blue headband, and it hit you that she’d dressed up for this too. Usually, she’d just meet you in a hoodie or t-shirt and shorts or jeans. But today, she looked especially cute as she bounced up to you and gave you a huge smile.

“(Y/N)! I didn’t make you wait long, did I? I got a little lost in the parking lot.”

“It’s okay, I just got here too,” you lied with a smile, hoping that your cheeks weren’t red as you turned to face her. “You look cute today.”

At your words, she perked up even more, doing a little spin in her dress. “You think so? I felt like wearing a dress today. It’s warm outside, after all.”

“It suits you.”

With a giggle, she took your arm, making your heartbeat spike. “Thank you, you look good today too. Should we get going?”

“Y-yeah,” you managed to get out. Were you going to be able to survive having all of Yoojung’s attention today? “Let’s go.”

-

The short answer was no, you weren’t going to survive. Shopping with Yoojung was nothing new, a lot of times the whole group would go to the mall to hang out, shop, see a movie, and eat all in the same place. But being there alone with her was different. She seemed to be more energetic than usual, dragging you from shop to shop and asking you what things you thought she should try on. Honestly, you felt a bit dizzy by it all, but you were happy to be there, even if the only rest you got was when Yoojung left you to look at the back of the store on her own.

“(Y/N), (Y/N), look how cute these bracelets are!” Yoojung called, making you look up from the sweater you were looking at. She was holding up what seemed to be matching bracelets, but you couldn’t tell from far away so you walked over to get a better look. Sure enough, they were matching bracelets, with cute yet simple thin chains in different colors, and with an array of different charms. Some of them had letters and numbers, while others had symbols, like hearts, suns, moons, and infinity symbols. There were even different types of gems attached, and you raised your eyebrows, impressed.

“Wow, they really thought of everything when it came to these.”

“No kidding. I love the initials idea. I think you can mix and match, so like wear two bracelets. The initial would be cute with the heart one!”

“That would be cute,” you said thoughtfully, picking them up to look at them carefully. Maybe.... “I think I like the silver the most, which ones do you like?”

“I like the gold. It feels fancy.” She let out a giggle. “I think it would make any outfit look nice.”

“That’s true.” You glanced down at the clothes she had in her hand. “Were you going to try those on?”

“Oh, yeah! I got distracted. I’ll just be a minute.” As she skipped off to the fitting rooms, you quickly picked up four gold bracelets, two with hearts and two with each one of your initials, and looked them over. It would be the perfect gift to ask her to prom with, and although just thinking about it made you nervous, you wanted to do it.

So you rushed over to the checkout, grabbing the sweater you’d been looking at so that you could have an excuse to have a bag, and by the time Yoojung came out with her choices, you were ready to go, standing near the door.

“You bought something?”

“Yeah, that sweater I really liked before,” you said, holding up the bag, and she gave you a smile, buying it.

“Nice! I’ll be right there, let me pay for these!”

As the two of you left the store, the store next door caught her eye. It was a seasonal shop, the type that only popped up around homecoming and prom time, and her eyes widened when she saw it.

“We should go in there! I need to find a dress!”

“So you decided to go?”

“I think so, yeah.” The small girl laughed and grabbed your hand. “Come on, let’s at least look, yeah?”

“If you insist,” you joked, but you didn’t really mind as Yoojung led you inside. The store was packed full of dresses of a hundred different styles, and honestly it was a bit intimidated to look at them all, but she didn’t seem daunted in the least, looking around intently.

“I wish they made more dresses for short girls,” she said with a huff as she moved to stand beside one of the dresses on display. It was a beautiful, long, floor-length dress, and you had to stifle a laugh because the dress was taller than Yoojung. “This is outrageous! Who can fit this?”

“A giant with heels,” you said, making her laugh and shake her head.

“Whatever. Let’s find the short girls section.”

“I don’t think that’s a thing.”

“They have to have short dresses here somewhere!”

Sure enough, near the back of the store was a collection of shorter dresses, ranging in length and style, and she let go of your hand to actually begin to shop. It was more fun than you’d expected it to be, watching her pull out dresses and make jokes about them, so you didn’t mind being there just to help her pick one out. After a lot of jokes about “easy access” and “blinding bling” Yoojung pulled out a dress that made you both go silent. It was actually beautiful, a luscious dark blue dress that had a high front and a longer back. The top of the dress had a thick shoulder sleeve and was covered in tiny dark blue flowers over a lace material, and there was a thin belt around the middle, where the flowers tapered off into little lines on the skirt. The skirt wasn’t too poof-y but still had a bit of a princess look because of the layers of thin lace that ruffled over the underskirt, creating the illusion of depth. It was gorgeous and fit Yoojung perfectly, and as the two of you met eyes, you both knew: it was the one.

“I’m going to try it on,” Yoojung said, and you nodded encouragingly.

“I think it’ll look great on you.”

Sure enough, as soon as Yoojung stepped out of the dressing room, it was obvious that the dress fit her perfectly. She was beaming and did a little spin for you, making you laugh and give her a little clap.

“It looks perfect on you.”

“Thank you. I think I’ll choose this one.” She looked at herself in the mirror. “It makes me feel like a princess.”

“You look like a princess,” you said, truthfully, and the smile you got in return made your heart skip a beat.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Then this is the one.” After one more twirl, she headed back for the fitting room. “I’ll be out in just a moment!”

As she disappeared inside, another dress caught your eye. It was a dark green, and although the color wouldn’t have normally caught your eye, the long, mermaid style dress made you think of Doyeon. It would honestly look perfect on her, and you knew it. So you pulled out your phone to snap a photo, just as Yoojung stepped out of the fitting room.

“What are you doing?” She asked, head tilted as she walked over. Without thinking, you brought down your phone and sent the photo to Doyeon with a smile before gesturing to the dress.

“Wouldn’t this dress look great on Doyeon? I just sent her a photo, I think she’ll like it.” It wasn’t until the words were out of your mouth and Yoojung’s face fell that you remembered what Elly had said about you mentioning Doyeon. Immediately, you regretted your words, and Yoojung turned to look at her dress instead.

“Oh, I guess. I’ll have to get my mom to come back with me to get this dress. Also, she just texted me that I should get home, so I should get going.”

Internally kicking yourself, you tried to give her a smile like you hadn’t noticed anything. “Oh. Well, I guess it can’t be helped. I enjoyed hanging out with you today, though, thanks for inviting me.”

“Yeah?” She raised her eyebrows like she didn’t believe you, and you wanted to pull out the bracelets right then and there, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it, so you nodded instead.

“Yeah. It was a lot of fun.”

“I’m glad you had fun. I’ll see you Monday?”

“See you Monday!”

As you watched her walk away outside, you sighed, disappointed with yourself. You were just letting her walk away, and you couldn’t do anything about it.

-

Over the weekend, you’d made up your mind. You were going to ask Yoojung to go to prom with you on Monday, and nothing could stop you. You had already told your friends that you were just going to do it and face the consequences, whatever they were. So when you arrived at school with the bracelets in your backpack, you weren’t expecting to be met with sad looks.

“(Y/N),” Elly said gently, reaching out to grab your hand, “Yoojung’s already got a date to prom.” As her words sank in, you felt cold shock wash over you freezing you in place.

“What do you mean? She didn’t have one on Friday. How would she have one now?”

“Apparently Eunwoo met up with her yesterday and asked her to go with him. Everyone’s talking about it.” Eunwoo. The most popular and handsome boy in school. Of course. That made more sense. Of course Yoojung, one of the most popular girls in school, would go with him. You stood no chance.

“Oh. Oh.” You felt dizzy and sick to your stomach, and suddenly, your backpack was a hundred times to heavy. “Well. At least I have my answer.” Swallowing, you glanced from your friends to the school and then back again. “I don’t feel well. I think I’m going to go home.”

“(Y/N),” Suyeon said slowly, like she wanted to say more, but you shook your head.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

They didn’t try to get you to stay as you walked away. Later, you received a text that your friends were heading over with ice cream and your favorite movies, but not even that could cheer you up. You’d missed your chance, and those gold bracelets in your backpack glared up at you whenever you opened it, accusing you. Your friends were right: you were an idiot. And you deserved this.

-

When prom finally did roll around, your friends convinced you to go anyway.

“Just come with us, it’ll still be fun,” Elly said, grabbing your hand. “Come on, please? Don’t miss out on a huge part of your high school experience just because you’re lovesick.”

Eventually, you’d agreed to go with them. You didn’t want to admit it, but you were curious. You wanted to see Yoojung with Eunwoo, even if it would hurt you to see it. You had to know.

The night of, you found yourself holding onto the bracelets again. Why you did it, you didn’t know, but when Elly yelled for you to hurry up, you slipped the bracelets into your pocket before running out to join them in Suyeon’s car. They weighed heavily there, reminding you of your regrets all the way to the venue, but there was nothing left to do except ignore it and hope that there was at least a chance to give them to her in the future.

The venue was gorgeous and huge, bigger than it had been the year before, and you walked up with Elly and Suyeon at your side, all three of you looking around in awe. Fairy lights were everywhere, lining the path up to the doors. When you opened the door, people were already milling around and dancing, the lights dimmed overhead and some song with heavy base thumping over the speakers. Doyeon was standing near the door, and when she saw you, she gave you a smile, waving you over.

“(Y/N), you made it!”

“I did,” you said, giving her a smile and looking at her dress. “I see you picked out the dress I recommended.”

“It did look good on me, after all. You have a good eye.” Of course, Doyeon was beautiful. But she was just a friend, and you felt nothing romantic when you looked at her. Nothing like you felt when you looked at Yoojung. The thought of the smaller girl made your shoulders droop, and you looked out at the sea of teenagers.

“Is Yoojung here?”

Doyeon gave you a sympathetic look and patted your shoulder. “She is, she came in earlier with Eunwoo. Will you be okay?”

“I think so. Probably.”

“Hey, I’m always here if you need me. And I’m not love struck like your friends over there.” Doyeon pointed, and you turned around to see that Elly and Suyeon had already moved over into a corner, giggling with each other. Rolling your eyes, you turned back to look at Doyeon.

“You’re my only hope for tonight, you know.”

“Glad to be here.” She laughed and threw an arm around your shoulders. “You can thank me later.”

“Oh, yeah? What do you have in mind?”

“You know, if I was in a flirting mood, I’d say a kiss.” She was obviously joking, but the sound of a small “oh” from behind you made you turn around to see Yoojung standing there. She was wearing the dress she’d picked out with you, and she looked beautiful, but her face was shocked and a bit sad, and you felt yourself panic a bit as she looked between you and Doyeon.

“Um, I was just going to come say hi but it looks like I interrupted something, sorry,” the smaller girl mumbled before she turned on her heel and ran off, even as both you and Doyeon moved away, opening your mouths to explained. Dazed, you watched her run off until Doyeon shoved your shoulder, making you stumble forward.

“Go get her, dummy. She’s obviously upset because she likes you.”

“How do you-.”

“I know everything. Just go before you do something you regret again. She’s headed for the bathrooms.”

Swallowing, you nodded at Doyeon. “Thanks. Sorry to ditch you.”

“I’m fine. Go get your girl before she gets away.”

“Um, one more thing. Where are the bathrooms?”

When you finally found the bathroom in the huge area, your heart began to beat quickly in your chest and you felt yourself getting scared again. But you didn’t want to chicken out again, so you walked into the area and waited. A few minutes later, the door opened and it was Yoojung, and she turned to look at you with big, teary eyes.

“Oh, um, sorry, I’m just going.” She quickly wiped at her face and made a move to leave, but you blocked her way before she could get away again, gently grabbing her wrist. Surprised, she looked up at you, and you took a deep breath, making up your mind. Even if she hated you for it, you were going to tell her.

“Yoojung, I like you. A lot.”

Her eyes widened even more. “What?”

“I like you. More than as a friend. And I wanted to ask you to prom but I was too chicken and I swear I didn’t mean to keep bringing up Doyeon but I didn’t notice that you thought I liked her until it was too late. And I was going to ask you to prom that Monday after the mall because I bought us matching bracelets and everything but then I heard you had agreed to go with Eunwoo and I knew I was no match for him and I didn’t want to intrude. And I’m sorry for doing this now but I couldn’t let you get away without telling you. I really like you, Yoojung.” You were rambling, and you knew it, trying to get everything out in one breath, but you couldn’t stop until you heard Yoojung sniffle again, and panicked. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m sorry. I’m just so happy to hear that you like me and not Doyeon. Does that make me a bad friend?”

Quickly, you shook your head, pulling the small girl into your arms through instinct. “No. No, you’re not a bad friend. You’re the nicest person I know, Yoojung. That’s part of the reason I like you so much.”

“Why didn’t you ask me sooner?” Yoojung whispered, and you let out a sigh.

“I thought you’d turn me down. I was too scared. My friends are right, I’m an idiot.”

“No, you aren’t. I jumped to conclusions and thought you liked Doyeon and agreed to go to prom with a guy I don’t even like because I was so sad, so if anything, I’m the idiot here.”

“I think having a crush makes us do stupid things,” you said with a shake of your head. Then, the weight in your pocket reminded you of the bracelets, and you pulled away to take them out, a blush raising in your cheeks. “Um, I bought these. I was going to ask you to come to prom with me with them, but I never got the chance.”

“The bracelets from the mall!” She smiled as you took her hand and placed them in her hand. “And you got us matching ones.”

“Is that okay?”

“Yeah. I’ll wear your initial on my wrist forever.”

Laughing, you felt relief wash over your body and leaned in to help her fasten the bracelets on her wrist before she did the same to you. The gold bands glittered, even in the terrible, dim lights in the back of the building, and she gently touched hers, smiling softly.

“They’re so beautiful.”

“You make everything look beautiful.”

“Oh my god, shut up.” The small girl shoved your shoulder playfully, a blush on her cheeks as she pouted. “I can’t believe you made me cry so much today.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, looking down, but she giggled and grabbed your hand.

“I’ll forgive you if you take me out for ice cream.”

“Right now?” You looked back at the huge room where everyone was milling around and dancing, and then back to Yoojung, who raised her eyebrows and grinned.

“Want to escape this place with me?” On one hand, prom was an important part of your high school career. On the other, the beautiful, wonderful girl of your dreams was holding your hand and asking you to run away with her. And that hand outweighed the other one by a mile. Grinning in return, you squeezed her hand and nodded towards the back exit near the bathrooms, where no one was around. It would be an easy run back out to her car, and you could feel butterflies in your stomach, but for an entirely different reason than usual as the two of you made a break for it.

“So, what kind of ice cream were you thinking?”

“Honestly? Anything, as long as I’m with you.”