#He has no clue what anyone is saying ever and doesn't really know how to speak either

[kakusu-shipping]

TELL ME ABOUT YOUR MUSHISHI S/I!! Where did he come from?? Does he have a relationship with Ginko or anyone else?? I bet he researches Mushi, right? That seems on brand with you and your curious lil brain

Aaaaah you'd think right. I am once again answering an S/I ask with Actually I have two different Self Inserts for this fandom fdkgjfdkg

The other one, an adult who lives alone and runs a hot spring in the mountains Ginko regularly visits does Research Mushi, and writes about them in his novels. He's part of the ever growing Aro Ginko Polycule, I've talked about him a few times, he's not interesting, just kind of domestic and in love with Ginko who pays him a visit once a year or so.

A lot of my younger self inserts are much more Head Empty than my older ones, the one your asking about especially

He's a kid inflicted by the Ginko who just showed up one day in Adashino's village. Adashino assumed him some sort of love child of Ginko's and sent a letter telling him to get his ass over here as soon as possible.

He appears about 7 or 8 years old, but it's hard to tell sense his knowledge seems toddler like. He doesn't know how to use chop sticks, or what he can and can't eat, or how to dress himself, and doesn't speak or seem to understand much of what anyone says to him.

He has a bad tenancy to grab Mushi by the handful and shove them in his Tokoyami filled eye, which is what lead Doctor Adashino to bandaging up the opening, sense he assumed that probably wasn't a good thing to be doing.

In the few weeks it took Ginko to arrive, Adashino got pretty attached to the kid, getting rather use to parenting his larger than most toddler. However, like Ginko, if in one place for too long Mushi will begin to swarm around him, making it dangerous for him to stay in the villager, or anywhere for that matter.

It took a lot of convincing, but Ginko eventually agreed to take the kid on as his apprentice, taking him on his travels and teaching him the dangers and nuances of Mushi.

Basically, he becomes Ginko and Adashino's adopted son over time. Whenever he gets to talking he calls Adashino "Papa", but Ginko remains just Ginko or some form of "Master"/"Sensei" when he's learning. He also calls Tanyuu variations of "Mama" or "Auntie", with Tama being "Grandma" exclusively. He doesn't like Kumado at all.

[icarusredwings]

Be warned. I wrote this at midnight. I have no clue what im talking about. Do you get it?

"Why doesn't this wolverine teach history? Other wolverine did"

Well, because THAT Wolverine had a Charles. Let me remind you just how fragile Logan's mental state is and just how quickly his brain can throw him into a temporary amnesia due to shock and / or panic that is triggered by his CPTSD.

The thing is, this Wolverine has a Wade. Not a Charles. Sure, Jean could probably do something to him if things got too crazy but you know just how dangerous of territory that would be. Yes, Charles doesn't have a healing factor but it was his confidence and perfect reassuring words that helped him, plus If something did happen Im pretty sure he wouldn't blame him much anyway. He knows what hes dealing with. This isnt to say that jean doesn't but I can see her panicking too much and Logan would feed off of that fear and panic and become worse.

Wade, on the other hand, is neither calm nor says the right things, BUT he can't die :D Which is a massive YES when it comes to dealing with a panicking 3+ time war veteran with knife hands. And is known to attack first ask later.

Trying to teach the kids about 'Nam, a thing sets him off. He stares off into space for a bit, Backs up and his breath gets heavy. The hairs on his arms are raised up and his pupils dilate, they widden and its as if he doesn't even remember he's a teacher.

When he starts the whole "Who are you? Where am I!?" Thing, a student (probably the oldest or one that's been dubbed most responsible) slowly just gets up and leaves to tell a trusted adult.

"Mrs. Munroe?"

"Yes?"

"Mr. Howlett is acting funny again."

"Okay darling. Go fetch Mr. Wilson for me? There's a dear."

She, calm as ever walks into the class room, standing away from the door so not to make him feel trapped, and very clearly shows her hands as she gestures the kids to leave.

Backing himself into a corner, he watches them one by one leave, Gripping at the chalk boards ledge and the windowsil, trying to balance and ground himself.

"Come now children. Quietly and slowly please. Good job. Go next door to Mrs. Summers please." Sending them to the next class room so to leave this one empty.

She stands off to the side of the room. Hands in front of her, smiling softly. "Hello Logan."

"What? Who are you?" He almost hisses but can't help but to feel not so threatened. He always did have a sweet spot for women. Maybe its their scent difference, but like most reactive animals, he's a little calmer for women. A little more trusting.

"Im a dear friend of yours. My name is Ororo. You are in no danger here." She states this practiced sentence with the same whisper of a voice.

"Where the fuck am I. How did I get here!? Did you bring me here!?" At this point he's growling.

"Logan, I assure you that no one forced you here. This is a school. You're a teacher."

"A teacher..?" Just a tad he softens, as if you had just told someone who wanted to be a vet when they grew up that they actually would become a very good vet, except the look in his eyes was as if questioning why they would ever him do that. Be a teacher I mean.

"Yes. If you would like to leave that is okay." She slowly sits in a spare chair, her leg crossing, not knowing how long she will need to play baby sitter but she hoped someone soon would alert the other staff of this. It IS a safety risk after all and Ororo knew that if he hurt anyone at all he'd immediately regret it terribly so when he woke.

"You.. you told her to go get someone. Why? Who are you getting? For what!?" Another snap, as if he thought she was trying to trick him into letting his gaurd down.

She smiles. "Your husband."

"What the fuck do you mean my 'husband'!? What are you sayin' lady!?" The venom in the way he says this makes her giggle a bit. Oh, goodness. He really did lose all of his memories, didn't he? How was the same man who once was so dastardly in love with scott to the point of shredding his heart into a gazillion pieces and is married to the silliest man alive, so internally homophobic? The irony of the thought made her laugh.

"And that kids is how you slice someone into sushi. Rice not included-" His weapons tatics and saftey class is interrupted.

"Mr. Wilson?"

"Oh hey, squirt! You wanna learn how to disconnect someone's joints without even leaving a puncture wound?"

"Maybe later.. uhm...Mr. Howlett's scared again..."

You just see Wade running out on these kids like "I'M COMING WOLVIE!"

"What, you think it's funny!? I ain't got a husband lady! Now, Im leaving! And there's nothing you can do to stop me!" He goes to walk out the door only to run into said husband, who immediately hugs him.

"Babe!! Hi! They told me- OUCH- okay yeah I deserved that- no tocuhy I forgot."

And is stabbed.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!? Get off me! Freak!"

"D'aawww!! Did you see that? He called me a freak! I hate to tell ya cupcake, but you're married to this freak. Now, what's wrOOW- Mad kitty are we? Woah there tiger! Easy boy!"

Logan looks at him, confused, stabs him again, and is trying to figure out why Wade's not dying. He goes to slash him in the head and wades like "WAITWAITWAIT NOT INFRONT OF THE KIDS-"

Mrs. Munroe, by now, has gotten up and left, closing the door and letting out a big sigh, wondering what shade of red they were going to paint the room this time.

She does a little clicky on her walkie and infroms all the staff about the situation and so for the next half hour or so, Logan's kids get to skip class and said classroom now needs a deep scrub.

And this ladies and gentlemen is why this Logan doesn't teach history anymore.

P.E. is SOOOO much easier on his mental status, and sometimes Wade joins, and he puts the whole class against him to make them work on their team building skills. Plus- it's funny to watch your husband get slapped in the head with 20 dodgeballs.

[chiyuuchu]

Can u do a bakugou best friend with reader (but he likes her….)

I. so close yet so far <3 (5th August 2024)

Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Prompt! The all time favorite of best friends to lovers trope

a/n my first ever ask! I’m so happy!!

second part here!

Bakugou Katsuki had known Y/N since they were kids. They had grown up together, attended the same schools, and now, they were both students at U.A. High. Their bond was strong, forged through countless shared experiences, secrets, and laughter. Y/N was bubbly, carefree, and had a quirk that matched her personality perfectly—Bubble. She could create bubbles that could either imprison people or objects or explode with a force that rivaled Bakugou’s own explosive quirk.

Bakugou, on the other hand, was intense, driven, and fiercely protective of Y/N. Somewhere along the way, his feelings for her had evolved from mere friendship to something deeper. But he kept these feelings buried, afraid that confessing might ruin the perfect relationship they already had.

Their classmates often saw them together, and it wasn't long before they started to notice Bakugou's subtle affections.

"Dude, have you ever noticed how Bakugou is always with Y/N?" Kaminari whispered to Kirishima one day during lunch.

Kirishima nodded. "Yeah, it's pretty obvious he's got a thing for her. But I don't think Y/N has a clue."

"Well, they're best friends," Mina added, joining the conversation. "But do best friends really sleep together all the time and share clothes?"

The trio watched as Y/N bounced over to Bakugou, wearing one of his old t-shirts. She greeted him with a bright smile, and he responded with a rare, genuine smile of his own.

As the days passed, Bakugou’s friends became more convinced that he had feelings for Y/N. They decided to subtly encourage him to confess, but Bakugou was torn. He valued their friendship too much to risk losing it.

One evening, the Bakusquad was hanging out in the common room, and the conversation turned to relationships.

"Bakugou, do you like anyone?" Mina asked, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Bakugou scoffed. "None of your business, Pinky."

Kirishima nudged him playfully. "Come on, man. You can tell us. We’re your friends."

Bakugou hesitated, glancing at Y/N, who was laughing with Jirou across the room. He sighed internally, feeling the weight of his secret crush.

"It's complicated," he muttered. "I don't want to mess things up."

Kaminari leaned in, whispering, "But do you really think Y/N doesn't feel the same way? She spends so much time with you. Maybe she’s just waiting for you to make the first move."

Bakugou clenched his fists, frustration boiling inside him. He knew his friends were right, but the fear of ruining their friendship held him back.

Later that night, Bakugou found himself outside Y/N's dorm room. She opened the door, her face lighting up when she saw him.

"Hey, Katsuki! What’s up?"

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "We need to talk."

Y/N’s smile faded slightly, replaced by a look of concern. "Is everything okay?"

Bakugou took a deep breath, his heart pounding. "Yeah, it’s just... I need to tell you something important."

Y/N sat down on her bed, patting the spot next to her. "Okay, I’m listening."

Bakugou sat down, struggling to find the right words. "We've been best friends for a long time, right?"

Y/N nodded, her eyes wide with curiosity. "Of course. You’re my best friend, Katsuki."

He looked into her eyes, feeling a mixture of fear and hope. "Yeah, and that's the problem. I don’t want to mess things up."

Y/N looked confused. "Mess things up? What do you mean?"

Bakugou glanced around the room, feeling the pressure build. He had the perfect opportunity, but his nerves got the best of him.

"I... I just wanted to say thanks. For always being there for me," he said quickly, standing up. "You know, I don’t say it enough."

Y/N smiled, relief washing over her face. "Oh, Katsuki. You know I'll always be here for you. You don’t have to thank me."

Bakugou nodded, avoiding her gaze. "Yeah, well... I should get going. Training and all."

Y/N stood up, giving him a quick hug. "Take care, Katsuki."

He left her room, cursing himself for not taking the chance. But as he walked back to his own dorm, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had made the right choice. For now, their friendship would remain as it was—strong, unbroken, and precious.

Late at night in the quiet of the U.A. dorms, Bakugou Katsuki lay in his bed, drifting between sleep and wakefulness. The room was dark, illuminated only by the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the curtains. Just as he was about to slip into a deeper sleep, he heard a soft knock on his door.

"Katsuki?" came a trembling voice from the other side. "Are you awake?"

Bakugou immediately recognized the voice. He sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Yeah, come in."

The door creaked open, revealing Y/N standing there with a worried expression. She hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, closing the door behind her.

"What's wrong?" Bakugou asked, concern lacing his voice.

"I... I had a nightmare," Y/N admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I couldn't sleep, and I didn’t want to be alone."

Bakugou's heart softened. He patted the space next to him on the bed. "Come here."

Y/N walked over and climbed into his bed, nestling close to him. Bakugou wrapped his arms around her, holding her gently. He could feel her trembling, her breath shaky.

"You're safe now," he murmured, stroking her hair. "It was just a dream."

Y/N nodded, taking comfort in his presence. "Thank you, Katsuki. You're always here for me."

Bakugou tightened his hold on her, trying to ignore the pang of longing in his chest. "Of course, I am. I'll always be here for you."

Y/N snuggled closer, her breathing slowly evening out. "You're the best friend ever, Katsuki. I don’t know what I’d do without you."

Bakugou forced a smile, even though she couldn't see it. "Yeah... best friend."

As Y/N drifted back to sleep, Bakugou stared at the ceiling, his mind racing. He wanted to tell her how much she meant to him, how his feelings for her went far beyond friendship. But as he held her close, he realized that, for now, just being there for her was enough.

"Sleep well, Y/N," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "I'll always protect you."

Bakugou stood at the edge of the training field, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched Y/N and Uraraka spar. Y/N’s quirk, Bubble Burst, created shimmering, iridescent bubbles that floated around her, each one capable of popping into small explosions or trapping her opponent. Uraraka was giving it her all, using her Zero Gravity quirk to dodge and counter, but it was clear Y/N was holding her own.

Bakugou's eyes never left Y/N. He watched as she skillfully manipulated her bubbles, creating an almost mesmerizing display of light and color. Her face was lit up with determination, her movements fluid and confident. She was strong, capable, and everything he admired in a hero.

Yet, despite the pride swelling in his chest, there was an ache deep inside him. She was right there, so close, yet she felt so far out of reach. Every time she laughed or smiled, he felt his heart clench with the weight of unspoken words.

Uraraka managed to float over a particularly large bubble, giving Y/N a playful grin. "You're really good at this, Y/N! I can barely keep up!"

Y/N laughed, her eyes sparkling. "Thanks, Ochaco! You've gotten faster too!"

Bakugou clenched his fists, trying to suppress the torrent of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. He wanted to be the one sparring with her, the one making her laugh, the one she turned to when she needed support. But every time he thought about telling her how he felt, the fear of ruining what they had held him back.

He watched as Y/N created a series of bubbles that surrounded Uraraka, who quickly floated out of their reach, laughing. Y/N’s expression was one of pure joy and concentration, and it took everything in Bakugou to not march over there and pull her into his arms.

"Hey, Bakugou!" Kirishima called from behind him, pulling him out of his thoughts. "You okay? You've been staring pretty hard."

Bakugou turned to face his friend, his usual scowl in place. "I'm fine, idiot. Just making sure they’re training right."

Kirishima raised an eyebrow, but didn’t press the issue. "Alright, if you say so. Wanna join in?"

Bakugou shook his head. "Not right now."

As Kirishima walked away, Bakugou turned his attention back to Y/N. She was closer now, laughing with Uraraka as they took a break from sparring. Her laughter was like a melody he could never tire of, and her smile was the light in his often-dark world.

All he ever wanted was right in front of him, yet he couldn’t bring himself to reach out and take it. The distance between them wasn’t measured in steps, but in unspoken words and unshared feelings.

One day, maybe, he’d find the courage to bridge that gap. But for now, he would remain where he was, watching her from afar, content with the knowledge that she was happy.

Even if it meant his own heart ached with the weight of longing.

The semester break had finally arrived, and Y/N found herself at the Bakugou residence, a place that felt like a second home. Mitsuki Bakugou, Katsuki’s mother, greeted her with a warm hug as she walked through the door.

“Y/N! It’s been too long!” Mitsuki beamed. “Come in, come in! We’re just setting the table for dinner.”

Y/N smiled, feeling the familiar comfort of the Bakugou household. “Thank you, Mitsuki. It’s great to be here.”

Katsuki’s father, Masaru, gave her a gentle nod as she entered the dining room. “Welcome, Y/N. It’s always a pleasure to have you here.”

Dinner was lively, filled with laughter and reminiscing about old times. Mitsuki loved teasing Katsuki, and tonight was no different. As they finished their meal and settled into the living room, Mitsuki’s curiosity got the better of her.

“So, Y/N,” Mitsuki began with a mischievous grin, “have you got any crushes at school?”

Y/N blushed, shaking her head. “No, not really. I’m not interested in anyone right now. I’m happy just having Katsuki around.”

Katsuki, who was sipping his drink, nearly choked. He tried to hide his flustered reaction, but his reddening ears gave him away. Mitsuki laughed, patting Y/N on the back.

“That’s sweet,” she said. “You two have always been close.”

Later that night, after the lights were dimmed and the house had settled into a comfortable silence, Katsuki found himself wide awake. Y/N was fast asleep in his bed, and he couldn’t stop thinking about his feelings for her. He slipped out of the room quietly, heading to the kitchen for a glass of water, only to find his father there, sipping tea at the table.

“Can’t sleep?” Masaru asked, looking up at his son.

Katsuki sighed, sitting down across from him. “Yeah, something like that.”

Masaru took another sip of his tea before speaking. “You know, Katsuki, it’s clear you care about Y/N a lot. If you really like her, you should tell her.”

Katsuki looked away, his fists clenching slightly. “What if she doesn’t feel the same? I don’t want to ruin what we have.”

Masaru gave him a gentle, understanding look. “You can’t control her feelings, son. But you owe it to yourself to be honest. If she doesn’t feel the same way, she won’t abandon you. You’ve been friends for too long. She values you, just as you value her.”

Katsuki sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just... hard.”

“I know it is,” Masaru said softly. “But you’re strong, Katsuki. And no matter what happens, you’ll get through it.”

Katsuki nodded, feeling a bit more resolved. “Thanks, Dad.”

As he headed back to his room, he paused at the door, watching Y/N sleep peacefully in his bed. He knew he needed to tell her how he felt, but for now, he was content to let her rest, to savor these quiet moments of just being close.

He climbed back into bed carefully, lying down beside her. As he watched her breathe softly, he thought about his father’s words. Maybe one day, he’d find the courage to tell her. But for now, he’d cherish what they had, hoping that when the time came, he’d be ready to take that leap.

Late one evening, Bakugou lay sprawled on his bed, absently scrolling through the 1A group chat. His thumb paused over a string of messages from the girls:

Ochaco: "Did you hear? Some guy from Class 1B asked Y/N out!"

Mina: "Omg, I know! Do you think she went?"

Jirou: "She didn't mention anything to me. Maybe she kept it a secret."

Hagakure: "Why would she keep it a secret? This is huge news!"

Bakugou's grip tightened on his phone. Why hadn't Y/N told him? They always shared everything. Well, almost everything. His mind raced, picturing Y/N on a date with some random guy. The thought gnawed at him, unsettling him in ways he couldn't quite understand.

He tossed his phone aside and lay back, glaring at the ceiling. "Stupid," he muttered under his breath, reaching for his headphones and queuing up his playlist of intense, brooding music. As the heavy beats filled his ears, he tried to drown out his thoughts, but they only grew louder, replaying every interaction he'd had with Y/N over the years.

Hours later, just as he was about to drift into a fitful sleep, his door burst open. Y/N stood there, slightly out of breath, a puzzled look on her face.

"Katsuki, what's wrong? Why are you listening to this... emo music?" she asked, stepping into his room.

He sat up abruptly, pulling off his headphones. "How was your date?" he blurted out, his tone sharper than he intended.

Y/N blinked, clearly taken aback. "Date? What are you talking about?"

"The guy from Class 1B," Bakugou said, trying to keep his voice steady. "You know, the one who asked you out."

Y/N tilted her head, genuinely confused. "Oh, that. I didn't go."

Bakugou shot up from his bed, his shock evident. "Why not?"

She shrugged casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "I don't know. It's hard to find someone compatible with me, I guess."

Bakugou stared at her, his emotions a whirlwind of relief and confusion. "You... didn't want to go?"

Y/N shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "Nope. I'd rather spend my time with people I care about. Like you."

Bakugou felt a weight lift off his chest, but he couldn't let his guard down completely. He scoffed, trying to mask his relief. "You're such a pain, you know that?"

Y/N laughed, moving closer and plopping down on the edge of his bed. "Yeah, but you wouldn't have it any other way."

He couldn't help but smirk, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah. Just don't keep stuff from me, okay?"

She nodded, her eyes sincere. "Promise."

As they settled into a comfortable silence, Bakugou felt a newfound sense of hope. Maybe one day, he’d find the courage to tell her how he really felt. But for now, he was content to just have her by his side.

The next day, Bakugou found himself sitting with the Bakusquad in the common room. Kirishima, Kaminari, Mina, Sero, and Jirou were lounging around, chatting about their latest training sessions. But as soon as Bakugou entered the room, their attention shifted.

Kirishima grinned, nudging Bakugou with his elbow. "Hey, man. How’s it going with Y/N?"

Bakugou rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair. "We're best friends, nothing more. It can't go anywhere."

The group exchanged concerned glances. Mina was the first to speak up, her tone gentle but firm. "Dude, since nobody is gonna say it then I will. You do realise that best friends don’t casually do the things you two do."

Kaminari nodded in agreement. "Yeah, like sleeping over all the time in the same bed, sharing clothes, spending every second together…"

Sero raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. "You two are practically inseparable."

Jirou leaned forward, her expression serious. "Have you ever considered that maybe she feels the same way about you?"

Bakugou's eyes narrowed. "We’re just best friends. She said she’s not interested in anyone."

Mina sighed, crossing her arms. "People don’t just do all those things with someone they don’t have feelings for. You’re special to her, Bakugou."

Kirishima put a hand on Bakugou’s shoulder, his voice earnest. "You need to be honest with yourself, man. Don’t let fear hold you back."

Bakugou stared at his friends, their words swirling in his mind. He knew they were right, but the fear of losing Y/N’s friendship if she didn’t feel the same way was too much to bear.

"We’ve been best friends our whole lives," Bakugou muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t want to ruin that."

Jirou gave him a sympathetic look. "But what if you’re missing out on something even better?"

The room fell silent as Bakugou contemplated their words. He knew he needed to figure this out, for his sake and Y/N’s. But for now, he would have to gather the courage to take that first step.

The dorms were buzzing with excitement as the girls of Class 1-A gathered for a girls' night. Mina, Jirou, Ochaco, Tsuyu, Momo, Hagakure, and Y/N were settled in Y/N’s room, surrounded by snacks, blankets, and the latest gossip.

After a lot of giggling and chatting about their latest adventures and crushes, Mina leaned forward, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "So, Y/N, do you like anyone?"

Y/N shook her head, smiling softly. "I’m not really interested in dating right now. I’m fine with just having my best friend, Bakugou."

Jirou raised an eyebrow. "Really? No one has caught your eye?"

Y/N shrugged. "It’s hard to find someone who’s the same standard as him. He’s...special."

Mina exchanged a knowing look with Jirou before asking, "Why not just go for Bakugou then?"

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. "We’re just best friends."

Before she could say anything else, Hagakure chimed in, her voice filled with curiosity. "But best friends don’t usually do what you two do. You know, like sleeping over all the time in the same bed, sharing clothes, and more things I could add to the list."

Ochaco nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it sounds like there's more there than just friendship."

Tsuyu added, "Maybe what you’ve been looking for is right beside you."

Y/N blinked, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. "I... I never really thought about it like that."

Y/N found herself unable to focus. The words from last night’s conversation with the girls echoed in her mind. She sat on the sidelines, watching Bakugou spar with Kirishima. His movements were precise, his strength and determination evident in every punch and kick. She couldn't help but notice how well they complemented each other, how perfect he seemed.

As she watched, she found herself checking him out, admiring his toned muscles and the intensity in his eyes. A blush crept up her cheeks as she realized she was thinking about Bakugou in a way she never had before.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t notice Izuku approaching until he spoke. "Y/N, are you okay?"

Startled, she jumped slightly and turned to face him. "Oh, Izuku! You scared me." Izuku Midoriya was another one of her childhood friends whom she grew up with along with Bakugou.

Izuku gave her a concerned look. "Sorry about that. You seemed really deep in thought. Is everything alright?"

Y/N nodded, trying to shake off her flustered state. "Yeah, I’m fine. Just...thinking."

Izuku raised an eyebrow. "About what?"

Y/N glanced back at Bakugou, who was still sparring with Kirishima, and sighed. "Just...stuff."

Izuku followed her gaze and then looked back at her, a knowing smile forming on his lips. "Does this 'stuff' have anything to do with Kacchan?"

Y/N’s blush deepened, and she looked away. "Maybe."

Izuku chuckled softly. "You know, you two have always had something special. Maybe it’s time you both saw it too."

Izuku’s smile grew softer as he noticed Y/N’s reaction. “You know, Kacchan always been fond of you,” he said casually, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Y/N turned to him, her eyes widening in surprise. “What do you mean?”

Izuku looked thoughtful for a moment before continuing. “I’ve known you both for a long time, and I’ve seen how he’s always been there for you. Even when we were kids, he would get really protective of you. It’s like he always wanted to make sure you were safe and happy.”

Y/N blinked, absorbing his words. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Izuku nodded. “He never says much about his feelings, but he’s always been the first one to help when you needed it. He just never lets his guard down, so it’s easy to miss. But I’ve noticed.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered at the thought. “I had no idea. I always thought he was just being his usual abrasive self.”

Izuku chuckled. “That’s his way of showing he cares. He might act tough, but he’s got a big heart, especially when it comes to you. You’ve always been important to him.”

Y/N glanced back at Bakugou, who was finishing up his sparring match. Her thoughts were racing, piecing together the moments they had shared over the years in a new light. “Maybe I should talk to him.”

Izuku smiled encouragingly. “I think that’s a good idea. Just remember, it’s okay to be open about your feelings too.”

Y/N nodded, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. “Thanks, Izuku. I’ll think about it.”

Izuku gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Anytime. Good luck.”

As the days went by, the rest of Class 1-A couldn’t help but notice Y/N’s noticeably different behavior around Bakugou. It started subtly but quickly became apparent to everyone.

Mina, always quick to pick up on changes, nudged Kirishima during lunch. “Hey, have you noticed Y/N and Bakugou lately?”

Kirishima glanced over at the two. Y/N was laughing at something Bakugou said, a genuine, warm smile on her face. Bakugou, for once, seemed less gruff and more at ease. “Yeah, I see what you mean. They’ve been talking a lot more and… she looks really happy around him.”

Jirou, who was sitting nearby with her headphones around her neck, added, “I noticed that too. Y/N’s always been close with Bakugou, but recently, it’s like she’s more… attentive? I don’t know how to describe it.”

Hagakure, who was peering curiously from behind a book, chimed in, “And Bakugou’s not being his usual loud self around her. He’s actually listening to what she says and even laughing.”

Momo, who had been quietly observing, nodded thoughtfully. “It’s as if there’s a new dynamic between them. I wonder if something happened?”

As they continued to discuss, Y/N and Bakugou finished their conversation and walked toward their seats. Y/N’s face was slightly flushed, and Bakugou had a rare, relaxed smile.

Mina leaned over to Kirishima. “I bet something’s going on. We should find out what’s up.”

Kirishima grinned. “Definitely. It looks like our two friends might be getting closer. And judging by the way they’re acting, I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s something more going on.”

Jirou laughed softly. “I think you’re right. It’s about time they figured it out.”

As Y/N and Bakugou settled into their seats, the rest of Class 1-A exchanged knowing glances, eager to see where this new development would lead.

[wandaslullaby]

idea

bestfriends mother!top! wanda x bottom!r

r's bestfriend and r go to a party where r's bsf hooks up with someone and r was making out with a random stranger. when its time to leave r's bestfriend tells r to go home and she'll join later (the bsf decides to hookup w the person)

r goes home pretty late to find wanda still up waiting for her daughter and r. when wanda sees r covered in light red hickeys, she can't help but feel possesive over the young woman.

I kinda of took a twist on it. I really hope you like it!

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Test Track || Wanda Maximoff

summary: it's time Wanda made you aware that lurking in corridors and perving on her isn't nice at all.

warnings: 18+ please don't read if you are a minor. overstimualtion, fingering, dom!wanda, manipulation kink, mommy kink, dark wanda.

You wasn't exactly up for going to a party but, Tommy was adamant that it will do you some good. Things have been a little stressful especially with Henry, your boyfriend that was rumoured to be sleeping around with Cassie Lang. You didn't want to believe Billy but you knew that Billy wouldn't lie to you.

"I think I might stay put. I don't really want to see Henry." You mutter under your breath. Tommy was in the mits of debating whether he should wear some eyeliner or not. Putting down the brush, he turns over.

"He might not even be there. There's no way that judgemental prick will be at Peter's party."

"Cassie is best friend's with Kate. Kate is best friend's with Peter. Of course she will be there."

Tommy signed, "I mean you could just stay with my mum? She's just going to be watching I love Lucy and complain about Dad."

You never understood why Vision, Tommy and Billy's dad left Wanda stranded. Wanda was the definition of an god especially the way she was built. Her figure was mesmerising, she always knew how to flaunt her curves and embrace her body. She was a little different to the other mom's, which is why you always hang out here.

Wanda wasn't judgemental towards Tommy, she embraced his differences a long time ago. She was the reason why Tommy was so open about his sexuality, Wanda even admitted that she had a love affair in the 80s.

"Would you mind? I honestly feel like I'll just be bringing the mood down and I know you want to try and impress Flash."

Tommy shook his head, "I'd rather you be comfortable and yourself then being someone you aren't. You know that you shouldn't hide your emotions or fake a smile for anyone."

You charged off the bed and gave Tommy a massive hug. "I love you. Please be safe and wear protection."

"You know I do." He laughed. "I'll just go tell my mum that you are staying. Do you also want to stay over?"

A whole evening with Wanda and the possibilities that were swimming in your mind shouldn't ever be vocalised. You knew that there was something different about you, but you never really questioned the tingly feelings that your clit felt when Wanda wore a swimsuit that one summer's day.

You could still remember the shape of her tits bouncing as she played volleyball in the pool. The wetness that stained your bikini from just watching her made your cheek blush and how you remember how Wanda only had to battled her eyelashes to let a moan rip through your lips.

"Y/N?" Tommy said, waving his hand in your face. "You okay?"

You shivered, "Yes, sorry. I was just day dreaming. What were you saying?"

"I was asking if you wanted to sleep over? The spare room is already made up and has pretty much all your stuff there already."

"Yeah I'll stay. I hope Wanda doesn't -"

You were cut off by the women herself, "I hope Wanda doesn't what?"

Frozen in place, the next sentence that left your mouth was definitely a clue that you were somewhat Infatuated by her.

"Y/N? Baby, are you okay?" Wanda giggled, watching you stutter over your words.

"All good, Miss Maximoff." you squealed out before slapping your hand over your mouth.

She just hummed at you, turning her focus to Tommy. "Are you ready to go?"

Tommy nodded, "Yeah. I think Billy is going to meet me there, I think he is going to pick up MJ and Ned."

Wanda frowned but her eyes sparkled with mischeif beneath deep-set eyebrows, "Aren't you going, sweetheart?"

You shook your head, "No. I was going to ask if I can stay here? I won't be a bother. I'll be here in Tommy's room watching reruns of Modern Family."

"Of course you can, baby. You are more than welcome to join me? I will only be alone otherwise."

"Yeah sure. I don't mind. We can watch I love Lucy." You say with too much excitement, causing Tommy to give you a weird look.

"Don't worry, baby. I've got plenty of activities we can do."

After a long, seductive minute Tommy excused himself. "I'm off. I'll see you all soon, please don't scare her away Mom."

"I think she will be just fine, Tommy. Go and have a great time. I'm sure when you are back, Y/N will be begging to never leave this house."

"If you say so." Tommy said, giving you one last hug before sprinting down the stairs. Once you both heard the door shut, Wanda left the room.

"If you know what's best, baby. You would follow and not sit there, with your mouth open." Wanda's voice trailed to your clit, making you jump.

You got up from Tommy's bed and followed Wanda's voice, you were slightly confused on Wanda's words and the fact that she has suddenly started to call you baby. Wanda has never called you that, she would only use that nickname to her own kids.

Once you made it down to the lounge, Wanda was already situated with your favourite snacks and drinks. It was like she knew you were going to stay.

"You aren't very well mannered are you? Lurking in doorways, staring at my tits and not to mention, the mess you made on my sun loungers last week? You are luckily that it smelt good, but disappointed that you didn't apologise to me."

You completely felt undone, beyond embarrassed at the humiliation you just receive from Wanda. Your legs began to wobble in fear, slightly mortified that she caught you red handed being a pervert.

"Nothing to say?" Wanda hummed. "You should probably start with getting your bum over here, and rest over my lap. Someone should treat you how to respect an older women."

You were too stunned to speak. Wanda's eyes began to glow in crimson red, a streak of light hit your head enabling you to walk towards her. You had no idea how you were walking towards Wanda, already bowing to her punishment she was about to give you.

"Now. This won't hurt as much as you think it would. I used to give both my boys this punishment when they were naughty, but since you haven't learnt anything that your lousey mother. It's time for you to really know what happens to bad girls that misbehave."

You obeyed her immediately, not quite knowing how your body was so obedient with Wanda's words but for the sake of your dignity, you laid across Wanda's lap clutching the blanket ready to accept fate.

Wanda began to admire your back, the way you arched was nearly as perfect as she wanted you to be. Your shorts began to detach from your body, feeling the cool air hit your bare bum. She bent down to give the back of your neck a gentle kiss before she slapped your bum with a paddle.

You winced at the pain, muffling your cries as Wanda repeated her action multiple times. The notes that were stuck between your lips were feeding Wanda into only punishing you more. She knew that moans were coming, the way your back arched for her was all the clarification she needed that you were just as she expected you to be, a curious little bunny.

"I'll only stop until you give me a moan, baby. I know you are getting a little agitated, the little patch of wetness forming on your panties is telling you that you should just admit. It's not good for silly girls to deny an orgasm." Wanda whispered, watching you squirm. "I really didn't want to punish you, baby but, how could I not?"

Wanda could hear the muffled cries, she knew that you were overstimulated already. But that only made her want to push you further, see how much she could unleash from you.

When you felt yourself being flipped over, tears were swimming in your eyes. Cheeks all red and puffy, Wanda favourite colour. She cooed you, stroking your cheek with her finger. "Oh my sweet baby. Is Wanda being a little too harsh on you? Is she not being fair?"

You nodded, sniffling as your eyes dropped to where her other hand was going. Words weren't coming out of your mouth, so Wanda assumed that her hand was good to roam. She was shocked by how bare you were, there was no hair in sight which made Wanda's mind burst into ideas.

As you were coming down, not letting yourself get into more of a state. Wanda made an 8 on your lower belly, humming a siren song that she learnt from a spell once. It was a simple tune that apparently lured young girls to give permission to anyone who sings the song access to their mind, soul and body. Wanda never believed in spells or supernatural until coming to Westview, a town that needed a little bit of colour.

"You have such a pretty pussy, baby. I can't believe that you are allowing me to admire it. What would Henry think? Watching how aroused you get from a 40 year old women? Such a naughty girl letting your best friend's mother touch you? Oh the looks you will get from your pupils when they learn that you perved over a mother. You wouldn't even last a day without getting called horrible names."

Wanda was purposely planting sick scenarios in your head, it was all part of the plan to secluded you from life, to only need Wanda. She wanted to fully feed horrible visions of your life if Tommy found out what you were doing. "What would Tommy think as I tell him how soaked you were for his mum? He only ever wanted a friend to have for his own but now, he can't. He would never forgive you for what you are about to let me do. You wouldn't want Tommy to find out would you?"

"N-Never... I won't tell him." You whispered, unsure on how you are allowing Wanda to get into your mind. It was like she was wiping away all the happy memories you had with Tommy replacing them with horrible memories of him hating you. "P-Please.. Don't take Tommy away from me. H-He is all I have..."

Wanda smiled, "That's a lie, bunny. You have me now. I'll be the one to make sure that your life isn't turned upside down."

"T-Thank you, Wanda."

"Let me just take your mind off all that for now? How about you just lay there, and let me take care of this embarrassing situation you've got yourself in."

You allowed yourself to let go, not letting any more happy memories fade as Wanda blew in your face. She waited until you were settled nicely, and slowly began to rub your clit. Wanda made sure that she wouldn't be to nasty, but to really work you to have the best orgasm of your life.

She began to lower her hand, cupping your pussy whilst using her thumb to rub against your clit. Circles were formulating rapidly as Wanda watched your eyes widen as she loosely slipped a finger barely inside, seeing how you would react. Taking her time with you, Wanda's finger wormed her way inside you. Taking in your walls as she explored further inside you, seeing how you would take not only her finger but her rising dildo that suddenly was rising.

Wanda pumped her finger heavy inside you, hearing the muffled moans from your lips as she accidentally let her another finger slip inside you. "You are doing so well, baby. I love how well you are taking my fingers, it's like your pussy was made for me."

You slightly moved your head up, watching Wanda's motions. You couldn't even blink before her fingers disappeared inside you. She continued to plump her fingers inside you, causing a heavy moan to escape your lips catching Wanda's stare.

"Do you want to see baby? Do you want to see how easily I can slide my third finger inside you?" Wanda cooed as she used her free hand to carefully caresses your neck. You watched as Wanda picked up the paste, continuously pumping her fingers inside you. You suddenly felt a nip that cause yourself to throw your head into Wanda's neck, you couldn't explain the sensation that was brewing inside you. It was as something was trying to escape but Wanda's fingers weren't acknowledging your need.

You clutched onto Wanda's hair, crying out for attention as Wanda went faster and harder inside you. The sensation was only building up, causing Wanda to hiss as you pulled her a chuck of hair out. You buried your face in her neck, moaning louder to see if Wanda can hear you but her eyes was so fixated on her fingers pumping you, that it took a loud scream to get Wanda to finally allow her fingers to hit your spot, and sink into the couch as she felt a monsoon of frustration flood her fingers. She felt your body let loose, and your hair slowly releasing her hair whilst you moaned into her chest.

"It's okay, baby." Wanda whispered, gently stroking your back. "Mommy's got you."

[sundaycentric]

ᵋᵌ the little things 𓈒　　 ◟ 　sunday x reader　 ♡

content — little things and details you notice about him. ✦ no tws, sfw. not proofread, may be ooc. im really tired so i may have burnt this one guys

You see privy to many sides of Sunday, your beloved, that others would not even have the fortune to dream of seeing. You notice the tiny details Sunday covers up in public, the minuscule imperfections in his outwardly 'perfect' character. Had you been anyone else, he'd be a bit irritated. But you are his lover, one of the only ones allowed to see him for him.

I. His stares.

If you look at the perfect moment, you may be able to see your lover taking sneaking glances at you. These stares are for several reasons. Sunday always tells you that it's simply because of how stunning you look: he cannot help but sneak a peak at your beauty. And while that is true, he also looks over to ensure you're okay. If anyone is bothering you, he will know right away. It soothes his poor heart to know everything at all times, which extends to your well-being, too.

Confronting him about this will lead to him breaking eye contact for a moment—a rare site. He is embarrassed at being easily caught but will try to cover his awkward look with his wings. Sunday tells you he'll try not to stare as much, but he only tries for a few seconds. It isn't long until he is looking over at you once again.

II. His wings.

If you cannot read Sunday's face or the rest of his body language, his wings can be a dead giveaway to what is feeling. After being with him—close to him—you know what to look for. You can see the tiny flaps his wings do when you approach him, how they droop when you have to leave, and how they flare up whenever someone is a bit too nice to you.

Sunday is embarrassed about his wings' expressiveness. He feels a bit exposed to how you can read him easier and easier by the day, but he also knows how much you like his wings. He doesn't miss the small smile that forms when you see his wings move unconsciously, and that beautiful sight soothes much of his embarrassment.

III. His speech.

Sunday has a lot to say, but rarely does he ever speak all his mind. It's only with his loved ones that you can see how much he rambles when he gets going. He tries his best to listen to you as much as possible, but sometimes, he can't resist letting a comment or two slip. Then, those comments snowball into a full-on discussion led by him. This is only with some topics, though. Usually, either things he is passionate about or things that have gotten him worked up.

And he knows a lot of words. Sometimes, you have no clue what is saying when he's talking. Yet, you don't interrupt him to tell him that, since he seems so invested. It's cute to see how dedicated he can get.

IV. His touch.

Sunday's touches are fleeting and gentle. It feels almost sacred. He doesn't touch anyone nearly as much as he touches you. In public, PDA is kept to a minimum. Sunday will hold your hand occasionally and brush your cheek with a fond gaze, but he won't do much more than that. As for in private, Sunday is more open. While he rarely initiates them himself, he will reciprocate hugs and kisses. Sunday will usually hold onto you in some way if he can come sleep in the same bed as you.

You are the only person he takes his gloves off for. The only thing he will ever take them off for. In the privacy of your shared home, Sunday will shed his gloves and let his fingers trace over your skin. You can see how he relaxes at your physical affection, how his walls seem to crumble with every fleeting touch.

V. His love.

Most importantly, you can see how he loves you.

[ashwhowrites]

So I had this idea, that Dustin had two older sisters who are twins. Steve didn’t notice anything while at high school he doesn’t know. So one day he comes into work and asks Robin, “did you know about the Henderson twins? And why is one dating Eddie The Freak Munson?” Dustin starts trying to get Steve to date his other sister. Steve agrees reluctantly but doesn’t expect the sister to be hot and dislike him, bc of high school. He has work to do.

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting🫶🏻

Date my sister

Steve was popular in high school, which meant everyone knew him but he knew no one outside his friend group. He started to notice people once he graduated and realized being popular hurt you more in the long run. Which is why his friends are Robin and freshmen.

Steve walked into work, a sigh on his lips as he clocked in. Robin had been bouncing on her feet all morning waiting for him to arrive. She had new information and she loved talking to Steve. He was a talker like her, so he didn't get annoyed with her last words.

"Did you know Dustin has twin sisters? Around our age, and one of them is dating Eddie Munson!" Robin lived for gossip and Steve was a sucker for it.

"Holy shit, no way," Steve scoffed, "I've known that kid for years and never heard about them."

"Yeah! They graduated with you, you never noticed them?" Robin asked.

"Well no, but I didn't look outside my friend group. But still! How could Dustin never say anything? And why have I been using my gas when he had two sisters to drive his ass around." Steve knew he had to talk to Dustin the next time he saw him.

~~~

Dustin was on Steve's tail before he could confront Dustin.

"Please! Ever since Eddie has been around, Y/N has gotten more lonely. Which means she's getting a temper and being moody. I think you would like her, just ask her out." Dustin pleaded. He needed his house to be less angsty and more fun.

"Dustin, I don't know. No offense, but a girl version of you doesn't sound like my type."

"I've seen girls you've asked out. You are desperate enough to ask anyone." Dustin argued back, a bored look on his face.

"Shut up," Steve groaned

~

Steve knocked on Henderson's door, then moved his hands to his back pockets. He waited for the door to open, thinking of how to ask Y/N out when he'd never seen her before. He promised Dustin to give it a shot, but one shot.

He looked as the door opened, and his jaw dropped.

"Dustin isn't here," she said, already closing the door. But Steve shoved his foot in, hissing as she kept closing it.

"I'm here for Y/N," he said, a sigh of relief when she opened the door again. A suspicious look in her eyes.

"Why?" she asked

Steve wasn't sure which twin he was talking to, but he prayed it was Y/N. Because she was beautiful, and Steve could already feel that he needed her. She wore casual clothes to relax at home, her legs on display. Steve couldn't help but check her out, his eyes leading him up her tank top and back to her face.

"Y/N, WHO'S AT THE DOOR?"

Steve smiled as his prayers were answered.

"STEVE" she yelled back. A good enough answer for her mom as she went silent.

"I want to ask you out on a date," Steve admitted. He stood terrified under her heated eyes.

"Oh really?" She asked, her arms crossed with a scoff. "Why's that? You obviously had no idea it was me when I opened the door. You had no clue who I was in high school, so why are you randomly interested?"

Steve had no idea if lying or telling the truth was best, but he went with the truth.

"Dustin wanted me to ask you out and at f-"

"Yeah, I don't need the charity date." She cut him off as she slammed the door shut.

Well, he asked and that's all he promised Dustin.

~~~

"YOU IDIOT! I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOOD AT TALKING TO GIRLS" Dustin yelled as he raced into the video store.

Robin immediately laughed with a scoff, "Who ever said that?"

"One of you at a time please!" Steve begged, moving his eyes to the younger and pissed-off boy.

"She asked why I was suddenly asking her out and I wasn't going to lie. She'd see right through it. I figured she'd be less pissed off. It was like the second she saw me, she hated me." Steve explained.

"Well, she's pissed! I had to listen to twenty minutes of her bitching me out on the way to school and when she picked me up. Turns out she hates you, dude! Being an asshole in high school really impacted some people." Dustin explained

"Yeah, I learned that. But I asked her out and she said no. So my job is done." Steve said, holding his hands in surrender.

"Then you need to make her like you!" Dustin argued

"Why?" Steve asked, his hands on the counter as he leaned over to stare at him.

"She'll never admit it, but she's lonely. She needs someone, and well I trust you to not hurt her" Dustin shrugged

"But she hates me, why would she change her mind?" Steve asked

"Show her the new you. The changed Steve. Sweep her off of her feet. Do whatever dumb stuff you do to make girls like you." Dustin explained.

"I'll try," Steve sighed. Because honestly, he hadn't stopped thinking about her.

~~~

The next time he saw her, she was bringing Dustin to the video store. He didn't notice he was fixing his hair until Robin poked fun at him. He shrugged her off and walked to open the door. Dustin gave him a sly thumbs up.

"Welcome in," Steve greeted

"Since when do you open doors for customers?" Y/N asked, but walking through the opened door.

"I don't, just you," he said, smirking as he walked behind her cutting Dustin off.

"Oh right, now trying to win me over?" Y/N asked, smiling over her shoulder.

"Let me know if it ever starts working," he said with a wink. She hated herself for watching him walk away.

~

Y/N was relaxing in her front yard. A book opened as she felt the warm breeze through her hair.

"Hello, gorgeous," Steve said as he walked up to her. She could feel the sun being blocked by his body, making her look up.

Steve had his hands in his pockets, smiling down at her with those pink lips. She cursed at herself for wanting to smile back.

"How can I help you?" she asked, shielding her eyes with her hand.

"Dustin wants to go to the arcade, you wanna come?" He asked, "promise you won't be the third wheel." He scrunched down, his knees bent as now he was closer to her eye level.

She inhaled his cologne and hated how she loved the smell of it. It was easier to hate him when he wasn't right next to her.

"I'll pass," she said with as much sass as she could. Trying to keep up her unbothered attitude. She went back to her book, ignoring the burn she felt from his eyes.

"Maybe next time," he said, standing up as Dustin walked out.

~

"Dustin please go with me?" Y/N begged. Her favorite band was in town and she really wanted to go. Her sister had a date with Eddie and she refused to ditch. None of her friends liked the band, and she didn't want to go alone.

"I already have plans with Mike, but you know who is free tonight?" Dustin hinted as he wiggled his eyebrows.

"Absolutely not," Y/N said, shaking her head. She knew what he was going to say, and she could not be alone with Steve. It was getting harder to keep up her act when being with him broke it all down. She can't imagine being alone with him, she's pretty sure she would fall for him. And she couldn't. She needed to be strong.

"Here's his number. Just call him," Dustin said. He went out the door and left Steve's number behind.

She stared at the digits until they began to move.

"Fuck me," she sighed to herself. She punched in the numbers and listened as it rang.

"Steve," she froze as she heard his voice on the line. She took a deep breath and reminded herself it was just a boy.

"Hey Steve, it's Y/N," she said. She could hear him starting to move, and a lot of commotion.

Steve hissed out as he stubbed his toe against his bed, trying to ignore the pain as he rushed to the other side of his room. He was already stripping out of his PJs.

"Oh hey!" he said through heavy breaths, "what's up?" His voice cracked and he smacked himself in the face.

"Look you weren't my first choice so don't think this means anything. But, would you like to go to a concert with me?" She asked, closing her eyes. A part of her already regretted asking.

"Um yeah, when is it? I can take off work." He asked, he could feel his heart racing so fast.

"In like two hours," she said

Steve looked at his watch. "Shit, um yes! I need to rearrange some things but I'll be at your place in an hour."

And with that, he hung up.

After an hour, Y/N was finishing getting ready. She finished her lipstick as Steve knocked on the door. She smiled at her reflection and began walking towards the front door. She smoothed out her shirt and jeans before she opened it.

Once it was open, Steve came into view. He stood there in a blue short sleeve and dark jeans. And a beautiful bouquet of roses.

"Wow," Steve said, rubbing his chin as he took her in. "You're always gorgeous, but wow."

"Thank you," she said as she felt her face burn. "You look very nice too."

"Thank you, these are for you." He said as he handed over the flowers. She reached forward to grab them, shivering as his touch sent electricity through her.

"Thank you, Steve. But you know this isn't a date." She clarified.

"I know, but still felt like I shouldn't show up empty-handed."

~

They arrived at the small bar, Steve was a gentleman as he opened her car door and the bar door. She hated how sweet he was. He grabbed her a drink and they moved through the crowd.

"Ready?" she asked, a playful smile on her face as she stood in the middle of the pit.

"For what?" he yelled into her ear, shocked when her hand slipped into his. He felt his face burn as he looked down to see their hands interlocked.

"TO GET TO THE FRONT," she yelled. Steve went to say something but then she began pushing through the crowd. He gripped her hand tighter as she made her way to the front, he kept apologizing to everyone.

He felt like it was wrong but once they made it to the very front of the stage, he was amazed by the stage.

"Oh wow, I've never been front row before," he said. He was hoping she wouldn't remember that they were holding hands.

"It's the best way to experience a concert. I've seen them every time they come to town and refuse to not be front row." Steve loved the way her eyes lit up as she talked about it. And how her body softly moved to the music that played throughout the bar's speakers.

"I haven't experienced many concerts. Always too loud for me," Steve laughed, taking a sip of his cold drink.

"Oh, if you don't like them, you didn't have to say yes," Y/N said, feeling a tad guilty for dragging him into something he didn't enjoy.

"Are you kidding? No way in the world I would say no to you asking me out," he said, a charming smile on his face.

I asked you to join me! Not ask you out," she said, but her smile was playful. It seemed like she was warming up to him.

He was in awe of her smile, but then the lights went dark and everyone screamed. They stared at each other as the stage lit up, not looking away until the band began to play. She turned to look at the stage, and he kept his eyes on hers.

She let go of his hand to clap. Jumping as the band performed. Steve had never seen her so loose and fun, not that he had much time to be with her. He was happy to be here in the moment, and so happy Robin took his shift.

The rest of the show went amazing. Steve danced to every song with her, holding his drink, and keeping eyes on everyone around her. It seemed her drink broke down some walls as she moved until her body was pressed against Steve's. He tried to keep his calm as her ass pressed against his jeans. He placed his free hand on her hip, the other one holding his unfinished drink. Their bodies moved together to the live music, he felt like his head was in the clouds as he inhaled her perfume and shampoo.

He could feel himself getting slightly turned on, chugging the rest of his drink and tossing it to the floor. The drink made his body hot, and her body felt hot when he placed both hands on her hips. He started dancing against her, she turned around and hooked her arms around his neck.

"ENJOYING THE BAND?" She yelled into his ear, her lips ghosting over his ear.

"I'M ENJOYING SOMETHING ELSE," he yelled into her ear, pulling away. His face was inches away from hers, he was getting lost in her eyes and didn't notice he was leaning in.

Her heart sped up as she looked into his deep brown eyes, she looked down at his lips as he leaned in. She softly played with the end of his hair near his neck as she closed the space between them.

Steve was slightly stunned as she kissed him, but kissed her back. His hands moved up to the bottom of her back as he deepened the kiss. The sound of the band and cheering fans faded as she felt his tongue slip inside her mouth. She tangled her hand in his hair, yanking it. She bit down on his lip and used her grip on his hair to pull him away. He stared in awe as she yanked his bottom lip and then released it.

"GOODNIGHT EVERYBODY!"

The band left the stage, and the crowd began to break apart. But they stood tangled together.

"Do you kiss like that to everyone you ask to join you?" Steve joked

"I don't, just you," she said, leaning in and kissing him again.

Steve owed Dustin big time.

[rene-darling]

SAYING- to them

I love you..you may as well take my heart [....] it's already full of you. When I heard beautiful music I thought you'd like it. I've looked at flowers and known that one day ill give them to you.

...Xiao...wanderer...kazuha...kaeya...

Xiao

Speechless, utterly speechless...what- what is he suppose to say to that?

"i-...ah..um.-" is this a trick? Are you joking? Are you lying are you taking his feelings for a joke because...its not possible you or anyone could actually mean the things you just said

R-right y-..you must be playing a prank!

For thousands of year's he protected people suffered for the well being of others and never has anyone of those people said anything as sweet as what you just said

He turns to you ready to dismiss your claim to tell you to stop lying to him to stop playing pranks but...when he looks into your eyes, the sincerity behind them tells him all he need to know, and a quiet sob escapes his lips...then another, then once more

"i-i really hope...i-in the name of rex lapis you're not lying to me-.." his voice becomes small and weak at the end bearly a whisper.

He cries softly but this time for the first time in his life, his tears are those of happiness

Wanderer

Immediately defensive

"..i- I don't need flowers nor your silky words.."

He doesn't believe you. Not one bit he feels as though you're lying and if he shows you his true feeling you'll take advantage of him.

Your lying right? Your going to betray him if he shows signs of being weak. But then, there's the thoughts that linger...what if..what if you did mean it...? Then what?

He- he can't deal with this! So he does what he knows best. He runs. He runs away and hides too afraid to approach you again especially after he ran..

Wanderer hides beneath his blankets like a small child curled up with his legs touching his chest softly crying some sliffles leave his mouth

Oh he's done it now!! you're gonna leave him too!! He- he can't why did he run! And y-you haven't come to find him...that means it is true you've left him-

He stills...then there's another knock with your sweet voice on the other side gently speaking urging him to open the door for you even though the door is open you ask for his permission to enter his private space

He wants to tell you to leave. But..he can't

Suddenly the door opens and his body crashes into yours, he sobs into your clothes and begs for forgiveness he's sorry!!..and...he loves you

Kazuha

Lover boy is stunned

He's used to being the one who says all the romantic stuff he's the one who's so used to you being shocked and surprised by his honey words..

So..when it happens to him...he- he's speechless, he's never been in this sort of situation...hes not sure of what to say to you

You chuckled seeing him be so speechless, on the occasion that you say something really sweet to him he usually has a quick remark back, he usually says something sweeter...but, but this time..

"m...my- I-" what's he supposed to say to such sweet words!?

He finally gives you the reaction you want buy blushing heavily and hiding his face into his hands "i-im the one who usually says such sweet words..i-..im not sure how to react my love.."

He gently hides his face before pulling his hands away and giggling so cutely "..thank you"

For once in your life you've rendered him unable of saying something sweeter back to you

Kaeya

As much as pretty boy wants to act like he has experience, he doesn't.

Especially not with such romantic words from another directed to him

He's all bark and no bite, he has no clue on how to even process said information

Like kazuha he's used to saying such pretty and delicately crafted words,

Not once has someone ever said something even slight close to this to him

He stands there looking at your face dumbfounded- did you really say that? No- yo-you wouldn't say such a thing...and to him?? Really..?

He's skeptical at first, he doesn't take you seriously. He doesn't take your words seriously he just tries to brush it off as a passing comment or something you said but didn't mean...

But oh you were so sweet! So gentle with him reassuring him again and again no matter how many times he tried to brush it off, you did mean it! Truly from the bottom of your heart and soul!!

But he just can't find it in himself to be able to believe you..he trusts you but, why..him?

Surprisingly he sheds a few tears then blame you for making him cry as you comfort him and panic a little he smiles softly, the words you spoke to him, He's sure he'll never forget them.

[xxcallmemaryxx]

Vessel x GN reader

Vessel loves you, but he refuses to tell you. So instead, he writes songs about you... you'd never figure out who the songs are really about right? ...Right?

(A fully fleshed out fic of this.)

It's an odd little arrangement the four of you have made. You met the boys after you were hired to help keep things in check for them during tours, kind of like an assistant. The four of them living together on the same bus for weeks? Yeah, they learned pretty quickly things were going to fall apart if they didn't get some extra help real quick. From then you formed a friendship, which has grown into a connection the four of you share that you seriously couldn't picture yourself living without. To say that the four of you are close is a major understatement. 

Vessel though… Vessel found himself thinking about you more than what he felt a normal friend should be thinking about another friend. He found himself smiling for ages after every time you two conversed. He found himself trying to quell his trembling hands every time you stood or sat real close to him. He found his heart racing every time you entered the room he was in, and don't even get him started on how long and… weird… his days felt when he knew he wasn't going to see you. He knew damn well what it meant. Of course he knew. So he swore to himself never to tell you. He had well and truly fallen for you, but Vessel knows he is a hard lover. The horrid little voice of anxiety in his head convinced him that it would scare you off. That he would be too much and you wouldn't be able to handle it… that you'd leave. You'd leave him, you'd leave all of them and he would be entirely to blame for it. So he decided he would keep it to himself… as best as he could anyways. 

II, III and IV watch the two of you. They sit back and watch him long for you. Long to touch you and hold you and to just whisk you away to love you and keep you all to himself. And they watch as you continue on without a clue in the world. You don't ever catch on to it. Too busy working and keeping the four of them in check, which to be fair… they are beyond grateful for… but they are astonished at how obvious Vessel is being and you just… don't notice. 

It gets to a point where Vessel needs an outlet. Something to get the things he is dying to say to you… to do with you… to do to you… out of his head. He fears if he doesn't then he'll break. He will snap and it will all come flying out of his mouth and into the air before he can stop himself. The fear that fills him at the thought of that reality is unreal. So he starts writing it all down. 

Once he started he could not stop. Writing songs about you he knew the world would never see. How could he ever let them? How could he ever let the world see you the way he sees you? It's selfish, he knows. But he's almost possessive over these lyrics. They are you. They are you when you're glowing. They are you when you're half asleep on an early morning. They are you when you're absolutely exhausted after a long day. They are you when you're just not doing too well. And Vessel just can't share that with anyone. He can't do it. He wants you to himself bad enough as it is, so the only way he can have that is through the words he writes. Why would he give that away too? 

His mind works against him though, trying to see how far he can push this. He doesn't know why he did it… but he'd written something a little less obvious, a verse he’d come up with, something about your voice. How it makes him feel, how he'd never get bored of it. Really, the piece was well written, he knew enough about writing music to know what worked and what didn't, and again, Vessel really doesn't know why he did it… but he found himself standing in front of you with the damned piece of paper in his stretched out hand. Willing you to read it. He watches you take the sheet, eyes flicking over the few lines once, twice… three, four, five times. Taking them in, letting the words process. The way your eyes lit up, and the smile that he watched grow on your lips was all the feedback he needed. Your reaction was so pure, praising him for his talent and gushing about how beautiful the lyrics were. His heart raced as he walked away with an even bigger smile on his face. He can't help but think about how right you are… the words were beautiful because they were you. Vessel stayed awake that whole night. His mind overflowing with thoughts of you, he swears his hand could not keep up with the words he needed to say. His pen scribbling so fast over the papers he had spread around him, he almost tore a hole in them. 

This became a dangerous little game he played with himself. The lesser obvious of the lyrics he'd write about you would end up in your hand at some point or another. And he would eagerly stand back and watch you soak the words in, watch as you admire them and in return, admire him. The praise you would reward him with would play over and over and over again in his head. You honestly turned into a drug for him, he had become addicted to how much you loved reading the small things he'd written, yet being so unaware of what the lyrics meant or where they came from. He just wanted you. So bad. So he pushed it a little further…

You're standing at the small kitchenette inside the tour bus the boys share, making yourself a coffee. Vessel's form fills the hallway as he glides through it, his eyes locked on you and a piece of paper clutched in his hand. A smile grows on your face the moment you see him, and then it grows again when your eyes fall to the paper. Your hand reaching out for it before he's even made it to you. 

Now, Vessel really should have thought this through… or at the very least taken a few more minutes to triple check the lyrics he'd written about you this time. Because he watches your face fall as you stare at the words. He watches your eyes flick over them two, three, four times before you look up at him in confusion. Vessel hasn't felt fear like this in ages. His heart is hammering in his chest and he feels like he can't breathe, you don't like it. It's the only thing he can think of… you don't like this one and he's gone too far and now you're put off by it and you'll never want to read them again…

His thoughts get cut short at the sound of you speaking…

“Vessel… where did… where did these lyrics come from…?”

It's a simple enough question. He knows that. But it's one he can't answer. And it's that very moment he realises why you are confused… you've figured it out. 

His throat closes and any plans he had of trying to explain his way out of this one fly out the window. He stares at you, completely speechless. He doesn't know what to do, he's frozen in place and he can't breathe and he can't think and he's regretting everything he has ever done that has led him up to this point. He feels ridiculous… the only thing he can will his brain to force out of his mouth is an.. 

“Uhh”

He snatches the paper from your hands, crumpling it and tearing it to shreds with furiously trembling hands. His face is a dark red. He can feel it. His whole body is overheated with shame and embarrassment, he finally forces his feet to move, turn away from you and back down the hall of the bus. He doesn't know why he went this way, he could have left the bus, but it seems he is making really silly decisions today. He listens to your feet hit the floor as you run up behind him following him through the bus. 

‘Wait… wait… Vessel just wait I wanna know…I wanna know who the lyrics are about…”

Tears well in his eyes as he continues to walk away from you, beelining to the small room in the back of the bus. Where he knows he can hide there. He can lock the door and stay there wallowing in his shame. He knows you're going to leave now. He knows you know damn well who the lyrics are about… you now know who all the things he's written recently have been about. Why must you make him admit it? Why must you make him watch the disgust on your face as he does so. Why must you make him watch as he loses you forever. How is he going to tell the band? How on earth is he supposed to tell them what happened and why they've all lost you too? The tears fall. They barrel down his heated cheeks as the reality of what he's done sets in. He can't believe he let this happen… It's entirely his fault.

He does indeed make it to the room in time… what he doesn't succeed in is locking you out of it. You weasel your way into the room and force him to look at you. 

“Vessel… tell me…”

He can't say it at first. He just spends a few moments taking you in for the last time, admiring everything about you. He's sad he never got to love you properly, but he's grateful he got to experience you at all in the first place.

“I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…. I wasn't going to do anything with them I swear, i am so sorry”

He starts rambling through his tears, the torn up mess of paper twists in his hands. More tears fall and he just can't stop telling you how sorry he is. He needs you to know he is sorry. He is so sorry. He can't even see you anymore. His eyes are so full of tears that everything has turned into a blur. He turns his face away from you in an attempt to hide them, he doesn't want you to see him cry. He doesn't want you to see him at all right now but he knows you're persistent. Should he walk away, you will follow. You put yourself in his line of sight again, and he watches you reach for him, for his hands… with the paper still grasped tightly in them. 

He moves his hands away. 

“Please don't…”

He's embarrassed by the sound of his own voice, broken and scared. You look up at him, a look he can't read written on your face. His stomach hurts, his chest hurts, his head hurts. Vessel swears he would do anything just to go back to 5 minutes ago, 5 minutes ago when you hadn’t read these lyrics. These damned lyrics. Maybe then you never would have figured it out, and maybe then he would still be able to keep you… even if it meant he stayed longing for you for the rest of his life he doesn't care. So long as you were still there for him to long for. 

You realise he's not giving up the destroyed sheet of paper he's holding. So you reach for his arm instead. Gently, you wrap your fingers around his forearm. You don't quite know the words to say to him just yet, because honestly… you can read him well enough to know he is embarrassed… but the reason behind his tears is still unknown to you. You want to reassure him, you're dying to settle him down and tell him what he needs to hear… but you just don't know what it is he needs right now. With his arm in your hands, you lead him over to the small couch pushed into the far corner of the room. He lets you lead him, which is relieving. A big part of you expected him to refuse you all together. 

The tension is high, you sit next to him and before you can even stop yourself the question flies out of your mouth. 

“Were they about me?” 

You mentally kick yourself. You could have waited one more damn minute to let him breathe before asking. And the guilt slams into you as you watch another few tears fall down his cheeks. 

“How’d you… how’d you figure it out…?”

He isn't sure if he even wants to know… but he knows that if he doesn't ask, the ‘what-ifs’ will eat him alive. His heart is racing in his chest and he swears he is on the cusp of throwing up. He feels awful. Vessel hasn't felt this horrid in a long time… you being the sole reason for his bright moods. 

“Well… you mentioned a setting sun in Hamburg… and uh… well you and I watched the sun set in Hamburg Ves… after the show there? It's one of my favourite memories… so I just, I mean well… I just assumed. I don't know…” 

The memory of that night with you floods Vessel's mind. Well after he’d realised he had feelings for you, he couldn't believe he'd been gifted that time alone with you. He spent hours and hours thanking Sleep for it. A memory he will never forget, and like you… it's one of his favourites too. So much so he couldn't not write about it… well, look where that's got him. 

“Please believe me when I say I am sorry. I should have asked you… I- I should have asked you if it was okay to write about you like that I am so sorry… I won't blame you at all for leaving I really wont. I just need you to know I'm sorry I'm so sorry I'm sorry I…”

He is rambling now. The truth is out and the only thing that matters to him now is you know he didn't mean anything bad by doing this. And although you understand he is sorry… which you don't even know why because this hasn't upset you at all… the only thing that registered was the fact he thinks you're leaving. 

“Wait. Wait what? Leaving? Why am I leaving…?”

His eyes finally meet yours. For the first time since he ripped the paper from your hands… and they're so full of emotion it breaks your heart just looking at them. 

“Because you're uncomfortable around me now. It's obvious isn't it… I'm in love with you and you don't feel the same and now you can't be around me and now you can't work with me around all the time so you're leaving. You're leaving us… you're leaving me and how could I ever hold that against you? How could I ever force you to stay somewhere you can't bear to be anymore? I don't want you to hate me too…” 

He loves you. 

He is in love with you.

You.

You.

You.

For a moment you think you go blind. You can't see him. You can't see anything. You can't hear anything. Those five words slam into you harder than anything you've ever felt in your life. You don't even register the rest of his rambling because he loves you. Vessel loves you back. 

“Please say something…”

His broken plea snaps you out of it. You didn't even realise he'd stopped rambling. His terrified eyes watch you so intently. They're so guarded. He's prepared himself for your rejection. Your heart is shattering just looking at him in this state. 

“I love you.”

The world honestly stops around you. Vessel stops breathing. He is frozen in place. A valid reaction in all honesty. You let him process for a minute, you have a lot you need to say to him. You have a lot you want to explain. Fuck… you just wanna keep saying it. You love him. You love him and he loves you. You love each other. And you know you'll get there. Give him a few and you'll be able to say it all. But the poor guy was a sobbing mess just a minute ago and now he's looking at you like you've grown a second head. 

It hits you finally… the reason behind his tears, you couldn't figure it out before but now you piece it together and your own throat constricts. He thought you were leaving. He loves you and he was willing to watch you leave him. He loves you and he was going to let you go because he thought that's what you wanted. He fucking loves you and he thought he'd ruined everything. 

“Vessel…?”

“Say it again.”

He utters it out with what sounds like his last breath. And you know just by the sound of his voice it's taking everything in him not to lose his mind. You still don't know if he's even taken one breath since you said it the first time.

“I love you too Vessel.”

Sometimes you think Vessel forgets just how tall he is. There's been a few times when you've witnessed his affections towards II or IV and he literally knocks them off their feet. They love it, of course, and there was always a small part of you that longed to be on the receiving end of Vessel's affectionate moods… yet now… with you both on the couch, you don't quite have enough time to process how you ended up on your back with a fully grown Vessel throwing himself on top of you. He knocks the breath out of your lungs. His arms are wrapped around your back and you're lifted into his embrace quicker than you can think. He's up off the couch, you're still in his arms. Your feet dangling just above the floor as he holds you. He's breathing now. Really erratically. It's like he can't get enough air into his lungs. He squeezes you tighter against him and his face is buried in your neck. And you realise he's crying again. Holding you against him like you're his lifeline, crying because the person he loves… loves him back. You're not leaving. You love him too. You're not leaving. You love him too. You're not leaving. You love him too. 

“Ves…?”

He doesn't reply. He can't. He can't even get words out because you love him too. He's hiccupping and sobbing into the crook of your neck, all while his hands grasp you desperately and hold you so close. You're so close. He is holding you. And you're holding him. And it's okay because you love each other. And this isn't a dream. He's not making it up this time. This is real. You love each other. His knees are going to give out. He falls back into the small couch the two of you occupied just before, except now you're seated comfortably on his lap, his arms keeping you locked tightly against him and you love each other. He pulls back. His face is puffy and red, his eyes are bloodshot and still full of tears but god… he's wearing the prettiest smile you've ever seen. Vessel is just beautiful, you've always thought it. But now, with you holding each other and openly loving each other… Vessel is so full of life again and it makes your own tears spring to your eyes.

“You wrote all of those about me…?”

You ask him quietly, you can't quite believe it now. That all those lyrics, lyrics that were written so incredibly and so passionately were all about you. Your own tears fall when he just nods at you. And there the two of you sit. Wrapped up in each other, crying together, and finally letting it sink in that you love each other. You've loved him for so long. So many nights you've spent lying awake thinking about him, weeks and weeks of admiring him from a distance and keeping your feelings to yourself. You swore to never tell him, or anyone for that matter. Your love for him and for the rest of the band outweighed your want to be selfish with him. You’d accepted the fact that if he didn't know, he couldn't reject you, therefore being able to keep your job and your beautiful friendships with them all. In your head, you'd rather love him from a distance and keep his friendship than risk losing him and the boys all together. 

It doesn't have to be like that anymore. It's not like that anymore. 

“Please… let me kiss you please…”

Vessel almost begs you, through his tears. Your eyes lock, and right there on that couch… in the little room in the back of the tour bus you press your lips to his. It's everything you'd ever wanted it to be and more. It's so overwhelming in the very best ways possible. It causes you both to shed a few more tears. To anyone else it may seem like you're saying a heartbreaking goodbye to each other, but really this is hello. 

This is the beginning of waking up next to each other every morning. Going to bed next to each other every night. Random kisses every single day. Cuddles on the couch. Cuddles in bed. Hand holding. I love yous. No more shying away. No more pretending. Finally. 

Because you love each other. 

[just-jordie-things]

bad at flirting - fushiguro megumi

word count: 6.2k warnings: swearing + second hand embarrassment summary: megumi doesn't know he's bad at flirting, but his friends are happy to help him! ___

Megumi is totally, absolutely, downright terrible at flirting.  He can’t lay down a vibe to save his life.  Not once has he had the intention of flirting and actually made the person he’s flirting with realize that he’s flirting with them.  It might not be often that he’s attempted to get a girl’s phone number, but it’s never worked.

And to make matters worse, he has no clue.

His friends don’t realize just how badly he needs their help until she comes around- and even then, it’s two months of her attending Jujutsu Tech that they realize the poor boy’s been trying to flirt with her.

It’s Yuuji that spots the odd interaction first.

Megumi had been walking with her, clearly listening to whatever she was talking about that Yuuji couldn’t hear from where he was hanging out on the front steps of the main building.  But he was close enough that when Megumi noticed him, Yuuji gave him a wave and a grin.

The ravenette gives a short wave back- if you could call raising a hand for two seconds before begrudgingly shoving it back into his pocket a wave- before turning towards her again.

He says something Yuuji can’t quite hear, his hand rubbing the back of his neck, and she replies with a nod and a smile, before turning and walking off on her own.

When Megumi makes his way to Yuuji, the first thing he notices is his rosy complexion.

Yuuji doesn’t think he’s ever seen Megumi blush.  The sight makes him snort before laughing.

“What was that all about?” He asks, half teasing as he stands up.

“What do you mean?” Megumi replies, almost dumbly.

“You’re blushing!” Yuuji cackles loudly.  “She must've said something” 

“Not really,” Megumi shrugs.  “Just happens when I flirt” He adds in a mumble.

Yuuji’s entire world shatters around him.  His laughter ceases, his jaw drops, and he’s staring blankly at his friend as if he’s never seen him before.

Megumi? Flirting? Blushing? (y/n)? Megumi’s flirting with (y/n)? On purpose? 

His brain computes it all at once in a fast, sloppy mess of thoughts.  But when it dawns on him, his face splits with a wide beam

“Oh my god you like (y/n)!?” He’s practically screeching with joy.

Megumi tries to scowl, but his pink face betrays him, and it only makes him look more adorable.

“I had no idea!” Yuuji’s bouncing on his feet now, “How long have you liked her? How long have you been flirting with her? What’d you say anyways? Does she flirt back? You got good moves?” 

“I guess,” Megumi shrugs, his hands awkwardly fumbling together.  

He’s never really had a crush on anyone before, not like this anyways.  And he’s definitely never had anyone to talk about a crush with before, so he was fairly nervous talking about it now.

“Liked her for a while,” He mumbles, looking anywhere but Yuuji’s expectant, excited face.  “Probably since she got here.  So… I guess I’ve been flirting with her the whole time” 

“That’s adorable,” Yuuji gushes.  “You guys do spend a lot of time together.  Have you gone on any dates?” 

“Yeah, I train with her all the time,” Megumi replies, all too surely.  “And we study, too” 

Yuuji furrows his brows.

Oh, no.

“Training and studying?” He repeats, confused.

Megumi nods his head.

No Megumi, no.

“Those aren’t dates,” Yuuji tells him.  “Dates are movies.  Or ice cream.  Or a picnic, or… well, anything other than training and studying.  Those are just chores you’re doing together” 

“But it’s just the two of us,” Megumi explains.  “And I’m flirting with her” 

“Okay…” Yuuji still sounds unsure.  “Well, how much are you flirting? Give me a line” 

“A line?”

“Yeah, like, tell me something you say to her when you’re flirting” 

“Okay… uh…” Megumi thinks for a second, before smiling to himself and nodding with certainty that he’d remembered a good one.  “She started training with daggers, and I told her she was smart because she’s best with close combat fighting” 

He’s grinning, the poor guy is so proud, and Yuuji can’t help but wince.

“So you… you told her she was smart?” He asked, just to be sure he’d heard him right, and Megumi nodded.

Yuuji sighs, and shakes his head.

“No… no Megumi that’s not flirting,” He huffs.  “I mean, it’s a compliment, but, like, anyone can tell her a compliment- hell, she probably already knew that dude” 

Megumi’s brows draw together, confused at the feedback.  It was his understanding that complimenting her fighting style was flirty- it wasn’t just feedback or critique, it was personal, and therefore intimate.

“So… so she probably didn’t pick up on it?” He asks.  Yuuji nods.

“She for sure didn’t pick up on it dude,” Yuuji tells him.  “But that’s alright, we’ll figure out some other ways of flirting and see what works best for you!” He tells him eagerly.

“Uh… okay… are you sure?” Megumi’s fingers are tangling together again.

“Of course!” Yuuji claps a hand on his shoulder and shakes him in a friendly manner.  “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t make sure you landed the girl of your dreams!?”

Megumi’s blushing again. ___

“It’s simple,” Yuuji’s voice rang in Megumi’s head as he tried to work up the courage to approach (y/n).  “Just offer to carry her things, and walk with her after class” 

He glanced to where (y/n) was packing her bag up at her desk.  Yuuji and Nobara had just walked out of the room- not without giving him a thumbs up for encouragement- and it was just the two of them left.

How hard could this be, anyways? He thought to himself, finally striding over to her desk.

“Hey, (y/n)” He greeted, albeit a bit awkward, but it was a start.

“Hey,” She smiled up at him as she zipped up her backpack.  “Weird lesson, right? I’m not convinced Gojo’s taken a single class on how to teach” She chuckles to herself.

“He hasn’t” Megumi answers, recalling a memory of the man tossing a textbook in the trash after Principal Yaga had told him to study up on to make him a more qualified teacher.

“Figures” (y/n) shakes her head, but she’s still smiling, so she must not be too annoyed with their teacher’s weird antics.

“Uh, so…” Megumi starts to work up to his offer, but she looks up at him then, and he has to take a deep breath before continuing.  “Can I… can I carry that for you?” 

He points to her backpack, sitting on top of her desk where she’d left it to give him her attention, and she follows his gesture as though she weren’t sure what he was referring to.

“My bag?” She questions.  “Are you off to the field, too?”

No, I’m supposed to meet up with Maki and Yuuta at the library, Megumi thinks, and he’s not a liar, so he doesn’t lie when he answers.

“No” 

(y/n) giggles to herself, before raising a brow at him.

“So you’re going to walk all the way out to the field and then leave?” 

His face feels hot.  His fingers feel twitchy.  Yuuji didn’t tell him what he was supposed to do now, and he felt like an idiot.

“Yes”

Good.  That was a good answer.

(y/n’s) still laughing, but it doesn’t sound malicious like he would have expected, seeing as he’s standing before her making a fool of himself.  It’s sweet.  It’s cute.

His face still feels hot.

“Alright,” She shrugs a shoulder, and hands him her bag.  “You on some step-tracking kick?” 

Victoriously, Megumi shrugs his arm through one of the straps, sliding it onto his shoulder.

“Uh, yeah, something like that” He mumbles, because he’s a terrible liar. As they leave the classroom together, (y/n’s) still trying to suppress her laughter.

She hadn’t quite gotten a full grasp of who Fushiguro Megumi was.  He could be quite odd most days, never acting one certain way.  Some days he was mysterious and quiet, some days he was dorky, and some days he would say the most out of pocket things to her that she wasn’t quite sure how to react.  Nonetheless, she enjoyed his company, and was curious to get to know him better.

“What are you up to with your free afternoon?” She asks him, breaking the silence they’d fallen into since exiting the class.

“Just studying,” He shrugs.  “You?” 

“Training,” She shrugs back.  “I haven’t really done anything else since I got here.  Though I’ve been dying to go see Tokyo, I’ve never been” 

She peeks over at him out of the corner of her eye, a part of her hoping to find out if he was free this weekend.  Maybe if she played her cards right, she could find a way to spend some more one on one time with him.

“Oh really?” He hums curiously.  “It’s cool, I guess.  Probably cooler if you weren’t raised there” 

Her heart deflates a little, but she bounces back quickly and forces a smile.

“I’m sure,” She agrees quietly, with a small, awkward laugh.  “I guess it’s old news to you guys, huh?” 

“Nobara loves the shopping district, if that’s what you’re into, you should hit her up for a trip” Megumi tells her with a smile, certain with himself that he’s given her a great piece of advice, and also an outing with a new friend.

She can’t help but smile back at him, but there’s a sinking feeling in her chest that he wasn’t as interested in her as she thought he might have been, and her spirits dampen a little. “Good to know,” She replies.  “I’ll have to ask her if she wants to hang out sometime” 

She lets out a little sigh, her disappointment evident, but luckily they’ve reached the field, and she takes her bag from him.

“Thanks for carrying it, and walking with me,” (y/n) tells him.  “That was sweet of you, you didn’t have to do that” 

“I didn’t mind,” Megumi tucks his hands into his pockets.  “Good luck in training” He tells her with an all-too confident smile for a guy that didn’t realize the girl he was trying to hit on just gave him a clear opening- and he missed it completely.

“Thanks,” (y/n) hums.  “Good luck with studying” 

With that she’s heading off, and Megumi’s on his way back to the building, hoping Maki hadn’t left a bunch of threatening texts on his phone about him being late.  He’s just about to check when out of nowhere, his other two friends are racing towards him.

“Well? How was it!?” Yuuji’s grinning, certain that Megumi couldn’t have messed up such a simple, classic indication of romantic interest.

“Let me guess, she’s completely into you and you’re going out this weekend?” Nobara’s also grinning, her hands clasped together in excitement.

“Well, no, but she did want to go to Tokyo, so I told her you’d probably love to go” Megumi tells her.

Nobara and Yuuji pause, look at each other, and then their smiles drop and they’re both frowning at him.

“You’re kidding” Yuuji states, like it wasn’t even a question, because it had to be a joke.

“No,” Megumi shakes his head.  “I figured it’d help her be closer friends with-” 

“Idiot!” Nobara smacks the back of her hand against his shoulder, effectively cutting him off.  “Why wouldn’t you offer to go with her?”

Megumi opens his mouth to defend himself, but realization strikes and he shuts himself up before he could even try.  She was right.

Stupid! He scolds himself and slaps his palm to his forehead.

“It’s alright! It’s okay!” Yuuji scrambles to reassure his friend.  “You still did a nice thing for her and had some one on one time, so… next time let’s just try to get you two alone for a little longer and… and we’ll talk more about how to move things forward, alright?” 

He’s nodding at both Megumi and Nobara, hoping that she’d help pitch in to agree that he hasn’t completely blown it.

She rolls her eyes, but ultimately Nobara agrees to help.

(Clearly he needed all the help he could get) ___

Megumi wasn’t always the best at complimenting people, but complimenting (y/n) is what he’d been trying to do the past couple months, so Nobara suggested he focused more on that route.  Words of affirmation couldn’t go wrong, right?

However she did tell him he needed to be a little more… romantic in his choice of compliments.  

“Compliment her beauty! Tell her she has pretty eyes, tell her she’s the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen, stuff like that” She’d said.

Saying something so intimate made his stomach do backflips, but if that’s what flirting was and that’s what would show (y/n) he liked her as more than a friend, then Megumi told himself he had to give it a shot.

And luckily a few days later, the perfect opportunity presented itself.

It was a nice day out and the two of them had made plans to study.  (y/n) had suggested they do so at one of the many picnic tables scattered around the courtyard, to properly enjoy just lovely weather.

So there they were, just the two of them, comfortably quizzing each other, when Nobara passed by, seemingly casually.  She makes a face at Megumi that he interpreted to mean ‘don’t fuck this up!’, but when (y/n) notices her, it’s nothing but smiles and waves.

“How does she look so pretty all the time?” (y/n) huffs, admiring the girl but clearly feeling a pinch of jealousy.  “I swear, it’s like she doesn’t even try” 

This is it! This is an opening! Megumi cheers internally, proud of himself for knowing this was the right time to say something, just like Nobara had taught him.

“It’s not like you’re trying” 

(y/n) blinks, her eyes meeting his as she tries to figure out what he just said, because it made no sense.

She must have looked just as confused as she felt, because he’s stammering suddenly, trying too hard to explain himself.

“I- I mean you aren’t- you don’t have to- try, I mean,” He’s stuttering over his words so much she can barely keep up with what he’s trying to say.

He drops his head in his hands, hoping to cool his rapidly heating face, and also hide his embarrassment.  He definitely fucked that up.  And now he’s making a bigger idiot of himself by hiding behind his hands like a child.  He wonders if he could convince his shikigami to kill him so he doesn’t have to look at her and further humiliate himself.

“What were you trying to say?” (y/n) asks, and to his surprise her voice is soft.  It’s not cruel, she’s not laughing at him, and she doesn’t seem to be teasing him at all.  The question sounds… genuine.

Megumi sighs, dragging his clammy palms down his face and keeping his eyes focused on the ground as if that would keep her from seeing his embarrassment.

“You don’t have to try to be pretty.  You just are” 

He’s still not looking at her, so he misses the way she grins, although she tries to bite it back.  The blush creeping up her neck is threatening to take over her whole face, and she’s positive she’s making a fool of herself for reacting so girlishly to the compliment, but she can’t help it.

“You’re just saying that,” She says, giggling as she shakes her head.  “You’re cheesing” 

“No, ‘m not,” Megumi mumbles, turning his attention back to the textbook in front of him.  “You’re very pretty” He adds in a quieter, almost too quiet, voice.

(y/n) blinked slowly, sure that when she opened her eyes again she would awake in her room, and this would all have been a silly dream.

But there he is, in front of her, furiously highlighting something, with a significant coat of pink over the bridge of his nose.  He’ll have to ask Nobara later how the hell he was supposed to keep this up, because there’s no way he could look her in the eyes with how hot his face feels.

Did flirting mean he’d always be a blushing mess?

Smooth talking was not easy.  And Megumi had a feeling he hadn’t quite been so smooth.  He’d have to find another way to flirt with her without making him shrink into the collar of his shirt.

Sparing his embarrassment, (y/n) dives back into their studies, asking him to quiz her with her flashcards again.  It takes a few minutes for him to stop stammering and blushing, but after a while he’s back to his usual self.  Maybe just a little more nervous than usual.  But (y/n) doesn’t mind.  In fact, she sort of likes it.

Yuuji comes by when they’re wrapping up their study sesh, hanging out and chatting with them both while they pack up their things.

While (y/n) is distracted with organizing her flashcards, the pink haired boy gives Megumi a grin, and a wink.  Megumi’s stomach drops in fear of whatever that was a signal for.

“So,” Yuuji starts, and Megumi mentally braces himself.  “Nobara and I got paired up for a mission tomorrow! So I guess it’s just you two for movie night” 

“Movie night?” (y/n) crinkles her brow, not recalling a plan for movie night.  “I’m sorry, did we have plans?” She asks sheepishly, embarrassed to have forgotten.

“That’s okay! No biggie, since it’s just you and ‘gumi here” Yuuji elbows his friend in the arm, maybe a little harsher than usual.

Was that supposed to be some signal to say something? Megumi casts his friend a confused look.  This was a stupid ploy anyways, there was no movie night.

“Don’t call me that” Megumi rolls his eyes in response, choosing to ignore the hint, whatever it meant.

“Okay,” (y/n) shrugs a shoulder, sending a smile towards Megumi.  “I mean, I’m free.  Is there already a movie picked out?”

Yuuji turns to his friend, smiling proudly that his plan worked, and he’d scored them some one on one time that wasn’t studying, for once.

“Uh, no, guess not” Megumi replies lamely, unsure of what kind of recommendation to make.

Truthfully, he preferred reading.  He didn’t hate movies, and he’d seen many in the past, but he didn’t know what (y/n) preferred, and he didn’t want to pick something she’d hate and make her change her mind.

“Great! I’ll pick one then,” She decides, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

Megumi visibly relaxes.  Yuuji brings his fist to his mouth to hold back a laugh, but it’s not very discreet.

“Hope you like horror” (y/n) says

“Yeah, I, uh, horror’s good” Megumi stammers.

She laughs, and Yuuji decides this is a safe spot to end the interaction and all but drag Megumi away.  He bids (y/n) a cheerful goodbye as he shoves his taller friend away, leaving (y/n) confused but still laughing at the weird pair.

A moment later Megumi looks over his shoulder and gives her an awkward wave goodbye.  She returns it, smiling at him.

He’s a little far to be sure, but she swears, he’s blushing again.

Leading her to wonder if her suspicions were true.

Did Megumi have a crush on her?  ___

At this point, Yuuji and Nobara had pretty much threatened Megumi that if he couldn’t get his shit together for this movie night, they were going to take matters into their own hands to put him and (y/n) together.

“We’ve pretty much secured you a date, got it?” Nobara had snapped as she searched through his closet for just the right thing to wear.  “Do you know how hard it is to convince Gojo we need to go on a paired assignment?” 

“Uh… not hard at all?” Megumi had replied.

“Well… that’s true.  But it’s not how I wanted my Friday night to go!” 

He hadn’t loved letting Nobara go through his closet and dress him up like an oversized doll, but he also didn’t hate the end product.  It was simple, but the black jeans and dark green sweater must have been the right choice, because when (y/n) met him in the common room she’d smiled and complimented him.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you out of uniform,” She’d joked as she plopped onto the sofa.  “You clean up nice”  

He hesitated for a minute before sitting beside her, suddenly all too aware that it would be just the two of them, for the whole night, on this couch.

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or not” He replied.

(y/n) took the remote and began searching for the movie she’d had in mind, but not before chuckling at him and shaking her head.

“Of course I’m not,” She says.  “I mean it.  You look nice.  You have good style, Megumi” 

Alright, so he’ll have to thank Nobara later, and also make sure to never get rid of this sweater.

“Thanks” He mumbles, the familiar feeling of a blush already creeping across his nose.

(y/n) finally finds the movie, and excitedly pushes play before tossing the remote to the coffee table in front of them.

“I love horror movies,” She tells him, settling back into the couch cushions.  “But you should know, I also hate them” 

Megumi gives her a confused look.

“You love them and hate them?” He repeats, not understanding.

“I think they’re great, but, uh, I hate jump scares” She admits, turning away from him to watch the intro credits.

“Well, everyone hates jump scares,” Megumi tells her, also focusing on the movie.  “But you exorcize curses scarier than any movie monster” He adds.

(y/n) bites her lip to keep herself from smiling too hard.

In all honesty, she’d been far too giddy about this movie night.  She’d spent too much time choosing just the right film to show Megumi, and just the right outfit to wear to seem as casual as possible.  She’d been crossing her fingers that her suspicions were true, that Megumi had the same crush on her that she had on him.  But being too nervous to outright ask him, she decided she’d do everything she could to make tonight the most perfect, easy going, fun night she could.

Megumi gets pretty immersed into the film, although with the intro alone he’s pretty much able to guess how the rest of the movie goes, he doesn’t mind.  It helps that (y/n) seems very into it, and keeps looking over at him to see his reactions to certain scenes.

About halfway into the movie, Megumi pauses it.

“Do you want popcorn?” He asks, and (y/n) breaks into a smile and nods at him.

Despite him offering to make two bowls and bring it out to her, (y/n) follows him into the small kitchen and waits with him while the bag is in the microwave.  She pulls herself up to sit on the counter while they wait.

“So what kind of movies do you like?” She asks, hoping to spend these few minutes getting to know him better.

“Oh,” Megumi laughs under his breath, wishing he was a better liar.  He decides a little truth to her question wouldn’t hurt.  “Actually, I kinda prefer to read” 

“Really?” (y/n’s) eyes light up.  “What do you like to read, then?” 

“Nonfiction mostly,” Megumi says with a shrug.  “I know, it’s boring” 

“I don’t think so,” (y/n) says, which he doesn’t expect.  “I actually love reading about science, and true crime” 

He does his best to hide it, but Megumi’s thrilled.  A common interest, Yuuji said to find a common interest and stick to it!

While the popcorn pops, Megumi asks more about the books she’s liked, and even asks for a few recommendations.  She promises to text him about them later so he won’t forget, and he promises he’ll read them.  (y/n) seems to be happy about this, and Megumi mentally cheers to himself.

Their salty treat is finished shortly enough, and Megumi grabs two bowls from the cabinet.

“You can just put it in one, I don’t mind sharing” (y/n) interjects before he dirties either of the smaller bowls.  “Unless that bothers you, of course” She adds.

“It doesn’t bother me” Megumi replies, swapping out the dishes for one larger bowl that could fit the whole bag.

(y/n) hops off the counter and snatches the bowl as she walks back into the living room, Megumi trailing closely behind her.

He takes the bowl back from her as he sits on the couch, and when she sits behind him, he realizes the beauty of sharing the popcorn.

“You better brace yourself, Megumi, because this is when the movie gets really scary” (y/n) says, and she sounds like she’s only half joking.

He musters a small laugh, but she’s sitting much closer to him than she was before so that they could share their snack easier, and his brain is getting foggy from the sweet smell of her shampoo.

Was it flowery or fruity? He wondered but couldn’t tell, and he couldn’t get enough of it.

She wasn’t wrong, the movie did take a turn for the darker, although Megumi wasn’t really one to get genuinely scared from scary movies, (y/n) did flinch here and there at the jumpscares.  With the side of her thigh pressed against his, he could feel it every time her leg twitched.

Their eyes remained glued to the screen, lost in the movie as the main character tiptoed around the house with only a flashlight for lighting.  Megumi could understand now why everyone hated the main characters of these movies, they were always running off on their own and getting themselves into more trouble than necessary.  Although he is reminded of Yuuji.

Encaptured by the tv screen, they’re both blindly reaching for popcorn here and there, addicted to the buttery treat as soon as they’d started eating it.  As Megumi reached his hand over to snag another piece, he’d accidentally brushed his fingers over (y/n’s), not seeing that she’d also been grabbing some.

Anxiously, he pulls his hand away, turning to apologize right away.  But (y/n) looks over at him with a smile before taking a few pieces and popping them into her mouth, turning back to the movie, clearly unfazed.

From that alone, Megumi feels his face go hot, and he tells himself he’s not going to have anymore popcorn, just to save himself the embarrassment.

But, if he did have a craving for a few more pieces, it wouldn’t be the end of the world if his hand touched hers again… would it? 

He felt hot from his neck to his ears, and he’d already lost track of the last few minutes of the movie.  Meanwhile (y/n) only seemed to get more comfortable, tucking her legs up onto the couch underneath her, thus making her lean just the slightest bit more against him.  She was so close Megumi was holding his breath.  She didn’t even realize this until after a few minutes, she noticed he wasn’t eating.

“Am I hogging it?”

She was whispering, even though there wasn’t currently dialogue in the movie, so he wouldn’t have been all that distracted if she’d spoken normally.  However, when he looked down at her to ask what she meant, he’s immediately distracted again.

She’s so much closer to him now that when he looks down at her, her face is just a few mere inches away from his.  He doesn’t think he’s ever been this close to her, not even when training.  His voice catches in his throat, and he spends a good minute just silently staring at her with wide eyes.

(y/n) starts to blush under his intense stare and close proximity, but she doesn’t shy away from him, she simply repeats her question.

“The popcorn,” She clarifies, shaking the bowl with the remnants of their snack.  “Am I hogging it?”

Megumi’s eyes briefly flicker to it, but quickly return to hers as he shakes his head.

“No, you’re good,” He finally speaks, and finds that he’s whispering, too.  “I mean, I can always just make more, if you want” 

He’s talking slowly, like he’s not really sure of what he’s saying, but (y/n) doesn’t mind, or find it all too odd.  She’s quite enjoying getting an up close view of his face.  She allows herself to really take in all his features, the way his hair almost hangs over his eyes, the slope of his nose, the curve of his lips, the deep blue of his eyes, she’s getting positively lost in staring at him.  Even as the main character is screaming for their life on the tv in front of them, neither one of them loses their focus on the other.

Megumi’s mind is running wild, noticing the trail of her eyes everywhere they go.  As he’s admiring her, she’s admiring him, and he’s trying so hard to work up the courage to do something when her lashes droop low and her eyes land on his lips.

“And for the love of god, if the moment arises that you should kiss her, then fucking do it!” Nobara’s voice rang in his head.

He’s not sure how he landed himself in this perfect intimate moment, but he knows he shouldn’t waste it.

“I- I think you’re the prettiest person I’ve ever seen,” He stutters a little, but tries to ignore and keep this brief burst of confidence intact.  “And, I’m glad you wanted to, um, hang out” 

A small smile tugs at the corners of (y/n’s) lips, the butterflies in her stomach fluttering around even more from the flattering.

“That’s funny,” She murmurs.  “I was just thinking the same thing,” 

Megumi’s flustered, his heart is beating excessively, his face is hotter than it’s ever been, and his tongue is tied, but he smiles back at her, soft and warm and inviting.

“Can I ask you something?” She asks, and he nods, swallowing the lump in his throat.  “Have you been trying to flirt with me?” 

(y/n) can’t contain the smile on her face as she asks him her question, too eager for his answer.  And when his blush darkens and his eyes momentarily stare down at nothing, her hopes only skyrocket.

“Trying” Megumi mutters the word she used back to her.

“So you have?” (y/n) giggles, leaning in closer to meet his eyes again.

Her eyes are so bright, Megumi can tell, even without the lights on in the common room, even with little to no light coming from the tv due to the dark setting of the movie.  She’s practically glowing with happiness.

“Yeah,” He admits nervously.  “I have” 

(y/n) moves the popcorn bowl off her lap, moving away from him briefly so she could set it on the coffee table, before leaning back towards him, just as close as she was before.  His instincts battle as half of him wants to lean back to give her space, and the other half wants to close the rest of the distance between them.

“Is that what all the compliments on my training were about?” She asks with a knowing smile.

Megumi nods his head shyly.

(y/n’s) giggling again, soft and angelic and he couldn’t possibly be upset that she’s laughing at him, because the sound is so sweet he’d do anything to make her laugh more.

“There wasn’t a movie night, was there?” She asks quietly.

He shakes his head this time.

“So… Yuuji just wanted to set you up, huh?” She asks again as she starts to put the pieces together.

Megumi raises a hand to the back of his neck awkwardly, but he knows he can’t really convince her otherwise, so he confesses.

“Yeah… he… said that I wasn’t doing a good enough job and that I needed a push” He admits, turning his head to the side to hide the now burning blush on his face.

“Well, that’s kind of silly, I thought you were doing a great job,” (y/n) says, and Megumi peeks back at her out of the corner of his eye.  “But I can’t complain, I’m just glad I got to spend more time alone with you, anyways” 

Slowly, he faces her again.

“You are?” He asks, unsurely.

(y/n) nods and gives him an affirmative hum.

“I thought you were just really into studying,” She teases.  “I didn’t think I’d ever get you alone for something fun” 

Flustering, Megumi tries to defend himself.

“I- I like fun stuff too” 

“Like what?” (y/n) asks.

Trying to think on his feet, he thinks back to what Yuuji had described to be actual dates.

“Ice cream,” 

He says it so surely, so confidently, that (y/n) has to bite down on her lip to keep herself from laughing this time.  She has a pretty good understanding of what he’s trying to say, but he’s just so damn cute.

Megumi cringes at himself, smacking his own forehead and wishing the ground would swallow him whole, because it was impossible to keep his sanity when he was talking to her.

“I didn’t- I didn’t mean it like that,” He assures her.  “I meant I like going out.  I would like to go out- we- we could go out-” 

“Megumi,” (y/n) ends his misery, reaching forward and tugging on his wrist so he’d remove his hand from his face.  “I would like to go out with you for ice cream” She tells him with a sweet smile.

He doesn’t know what he did to make this girl like him, because he’s pretty sure he’s made an idiot of himself every time he opens his mouth, but he thanks whoever is watching over him that he’s done something that works.

“Really?” 

(y/n) nods, her hand sliding into his, fingers slotting in the spaces between his.  Her hand is significantly smaller compared to his, and it’s so warm it’s almost comforting.  It is comforting.  He can feel his shoulders relax, and his heartbeat finally slowing to a normal pace.

“Really” She affirms.

The tv is flickering with the rolling credits of the movie they’d forgotten, and Megumi finally feels like he could have a grasp on this whole flirting thing.

“Can I kiss you?” 

(y/n) smirks.

“It’d be a shame if you didn’t” 

He didn’t need much more of an answer than that.  With his free hand wrapping around the back of her neck to draw her a few mere inches forward, his lips slant over hers and any embarrassment left in him disappears in a second.  (y/n) returns his kiss with fervor, letting his hand go so she could give into the intrusive thoughts that had attacked her all night, running her fingers through his hair, nails scraping slightly at the nape of his neck.

The sensation was enough to give him an ego boost, and Megumi drops a hand to her hip, pulling her closer until her chest leaned into his, and even still he pulled more, and more, until they couldn’t possibly be any closer.

His lips dragged over hers as his nose prodded hers to the side, tilting his head to deepen their kiss further.  A hum of approval traveled up her throat and vibrated gently against his mouth, and she could only sneak in a few more kisses until she had to pull on his sweater to make him stop so she could catch her breath.

Their blushing faces are mirrored now, both smiling shyly, and still clinging onto one another.

“Did Yuuji give you advice on that too?” (y/n) chuckled, her chest heaving as she caught her breath.  Megumi chuckles, his eyes falling to her now swollen lips.

“If I say yes, are you going to stand me up for our ice cream date?”

The pair giggle quietly amongst themselves, (y/n’s) arms wrapped loosely around his neck, Megumi’s arms wrapped loosely around her waist, neither one of them wanting to part even though their movie had ended and it was rather late into the evening.

“So it’s a date now?” (y/n) quirks a brow.

Megumi smiles, more sure of himself now than he has been in the last couple of months.

“Of course it is” 

(y/n) smiles back at him melting a little further into his embrace.

“So then I suppose that makes you my boyfriend” She adds cheekily.

Megumi raises a hand to curl his fingers under her jaw, his thumb stroking lazily over her skin.  He watches this movement for a minute as he relishes in the delight of being bestowed such a title.

He decides to steal the moment with a kiss, which (y/n) happily returns.  This kiss is softer than their first.  It’s also shorter, but just as passionate.  He’s smiling again when they part, resting his forehead against hers as he gazes fondly into her eyes.

“I suppose it does”  ___

this was supposed to be SHORT what did i DO

xoxo ~ jordie

[jellieland]

A week or two after the games, Grian will usually check in with the victor.

It's a habit that's probably more for his own benefit than anyone else's. But it is, he thinks, a good habit nonetheless.

After all, as fun as it all is, things can get a bit... intense, towards the end, and it's good for his peace of mind to make sure the last one standing is ok with how things shook out.

Nothing much has ever really come of it before; they're all pretty resilient. He doubts this time’ll be different. Except- well.

Something about it all itches at the back of his mind, and he hasn’t been able to work out why. There was the actual ending, of course, but also Grian may have been whispering in Martyn's ear about how boring that final showdown was turning out to be, and how narratively satisfying it would be if he just betrayed the other two and got it over with, so.

If nothing else, it feels like he's got no reason to break with tradition.

There's just one more concern.

Martyn seems to have made it almost impossible to contact him.

It's not... unheard of, for players to keep to themselves most of the time, especially when it comes to those they don’t share a server with. It seems a little uncharacteristic of Martyn, but the last time Grian saw him outside the games was before they even started, so maybe he does things differently these days.

There are certainly a great many reasons why that could be the case, most of which are perfectly sensible.

But Grian's never been able to resist picking at a puzzle put in front of him, whether the puzzle likes it or not, so he is going to talk to Martyn. And he can just see what happens, and worry about any consequences if and when they appear.

Luckily, he already has a way to do just that.

He doesn't usually need to do this - although it is very funny to startle Scar or Mumbo with it sometimes when they're concentrating. Honestly it's usually less effective than communicators, with how much effort it takes.

But he does have a way. The same way he used to whisper in Martyn's ear very recently, in fact.

He reaches out, away from his home, away from his body, and it feels a little like simultaneously overextending himself, and putting his foot down on a step he thought was flat ground.

That is... not how this usually feels.

It's odd. Rather unnerving.

But it works.

He finds Martyn. Watches the vague shape of him solidify into something more real.

He’s still wearing his red life outfit, for some reason. His eyes are closed. Around his head, the coral curls like a blood-red crown.

“What do you think you're playing at?” Asks Grian.

Martyn blinks his eyes open slowly, looking less confused than Grian would expect for someone hearing a disembodied voice out of nowhere. “Oh good.” He says dryly. “You again.”

He squawks indignantly. “Hey, what's that supposed to mean?”

There is silence for a few seconds.

“...Hey.” Martyn says, and as flippant as he suddenly sounds, he looks as thrown off balance as Grian feels. “Not sure who this is, but I think you might have the wrong number!”

“I think that's unlikely.” He deadpans. “Where are you? I haven't been able to get hold of you.”

“Uh-” There's a short pause as he looks around at wherever he is right now. “Falling into endless nothingness, looks like. Same old, same old, am I right?”

Grian rolls his eyes. “Yeah, ok. Well, I suppose you don't have to tell me.” A part of him makes a note of Martyn’s wording, though. Just in case.

“...Hm. Well, not gonna lie, I do appreciate the change of pace, but I would love to know what exactly you want from me. You know, just on the off chance that you feel like giving me any clues.”

It's at this point that Grian remembers: one of the main reasons this method of communication is good for messing with people is that it makes him sound, um. A little different. And while he can see Martyn, it’s not as if Martyn can see him.

...Best to just pretend that hadn't slipped his mind.

“You do realize this is Grian, right?” He asks, as though it ought to be obvious.

“Riiight, yeah, sure.” Says Martyn. “And I'm also Grian, did you know that?”

“Oh for- what, do you want me to tell you some secret only the two of us would know, or something?”

“Nah.” Says Martyn. “That wouldn't work.”

“Elaborate.” Says Grian, through gritted teeth.

“You know what? I don't think I will!” Replies Martyn brightly.

Grian takes a deep breath in through his nose. “I'm beginning to wonder why I bother.” He grinds out.

Martyn snorts. “Tell me about it.”

There's a short silence.

“But- ok.” He continues. “Just suppose for the sake of argument that you are Grian.”

“...Yes?” Asks Grian warily.

“I have a question for you.”

“...Yeeees?” Asks Grian, even more warily.

The silence stretches for several long moments.

“What's up?” Asks Martyn.

“Yeah ok, this isn’t worth it, I'm leaving now.”

“Wait! No, I'm serious!” Under the amusement, there's a note of something that sounds almost like nervousness in his voice. It's uncharacteristic. Unnerving.

“What are you talking about?” Asks Grian, trying very hard to keep his voice at least mostly free of annoyance.

“Oh, you know! What's going on, what's the deal, what'd you want to talk to me for?” There's a slight hesitation. “You need help or something?”

“I- ok. That's actually sort of relevant. It's really nothing too complicated, Martyn.” He says, grumpily. “All I wanted to do was make sure you're good with what happened at the end of the last game.”

Martyn blinks, and goes very still.

There is a long silence - long enough that Grian starts to feel concerned.

And then Martyn laughs.

It's not a nice laugh.

“Good, huh. You want to know if I’m good with it. That sure is an interesting choice of words.”

“...How so?” He asks, guardedly.

“Grian. Grian, I’m not sure if you remember this, but I won. I won this one, Grian.” Every word he says, however restrained, sounds like it’s had to claw its way out of him. He glares at nothing. “And guess what? It's just like the others. I don’t really care enough for any of it to matter to me, anymore, and that's fine by me.”

Now that's... a lot to unpack. “You- I'm sorry?”

“Well that makes one of us then, doesn't it?” His voice is coated with scorn.

“What are you talking about?”

“Do you actually think I’m going to explain myself to you?” He asks, looking half-amused. “You, of all people?”

“Well unfortunately, Martyn, I can’t exactly put Ren on the line, so I’m afraid I’m all you’re going to get.” He snaps, and instantly regrets it when he sees the look in Martyn’s eyes.

There is a short silence.

Grian shifts uncomfortably. He’s not going to apologize, obviously. But. Well. “That... ok, maybe that was a bit much.” He says.

“...Little bit, yeah.”

There is another silence.

After a while, Martyn speaks.

“I would’ve betrayed him too, you know.” He says coolly.

“What, Ren?”

“Yeah. At the drop of a hat. Soon as it was convenient.”

“I mean sure, I suppose?” Says Grian, caught off guard. “You didn’t, though. Did you? When you had the chance.”

“Eh.” He shrugs, as though that’s an irrelevant detail. “It would’ve been more dramatic later. You know how it is.”

...There's no real way he can justify saying no to that, is there? “Yeah.” He says. “I guess I do.”

He tries to picture the King, betrayed. The Hand, triumphant.

“I dunno, though.” He says, thoughtful. “I don’t think you ever could’ve done it, to be honest. Not in the first one. Whatever it was you were planning, it was just never how that story was going to go.”

“That’s not true.” He says it just slightly too fast. “I know that’s not true.”

Grian scoffs. “You know thinking about something isn’t the same as doing it, right?”

“What, no, really?” He rolls his eyes. “You don’t say!”

“What I’m saying,” He lets his voice turn biting, “Is that you’re being stupid.”

Martyn lets out a startled laugh. It’s surprisingly genuine. “Wow. You’re really bad at this, dude.”

Grian bristles. “Well why am I the one who has to do it then? Why don’t you talk to someone else, if you hate talking to me so much?”

“I mean…” He makes an unconvinced noise. “Obvious problems aside, when do you even expect me to do that? We usually have other things to worry about.”

“I don’t know, maybe at literally any point between the games?” He sighs exasperatedly. “There’s no way you’re that busy.”

“Between the games?” Martyn asks incredulously, and Grian suddenly feels as though something dangerous is hovering over their heads, just about to drop. “What do you mean, between the games?”

“I mean between the games! Like- now! What do you think this is, right now, if it’s not between the games?” He snaps.

“This right now?” He looks nonplussed. “I think we’re usually asleep for most of this bit. Or possibly we forget about it. As you can probably imagine, it’s hard to know for sure.”

“Now I know that’s not true.” He says firmly, ignoring the unease trying to creep up on him. “I know I do stuff between games, and I know I don’t just forget about it. That makes no sense.”

“I mean, I don't necessarily mean everything between the games, more just this specifically.” He gestures around at nothing. “That gets more complicated, though. But you- hm.” He looks curious. “That’s interesting. Where even are you, then, at the moment?”

“I’m at home! Which is where I thought everyone else was too!”

Martyn seems to consider this for a few moments, and then he frowns, and then his expression goes blank. “…Oh.” He says. “Yeah. No, that… makes sense, actually. Yeah. You’re probably right.”

“Wha- what do you mean? Right about what?”

“Everyone probably went home. Or, at least, they thought they did. And hey, what’s the difference, when you get right down to it?”

“...Ok, I’m going to ignore the second part for now, I already got past that little existential crisis after Ren and Doc’s whole… thing… in season eight- if you think everyone went home, why are you- what was it you said- ‘falling into endless nothingness’?”

There’s another pause.

“...You’re really gonna make me say it, huh? That seems cruel, even for you.”

“Wait, no, what do you-”

“Where else do you think I would go?” It sounds less like an admission and more like an accusation. “What ‘home’ do you think I have left, Grian?”

“Look.” Snaps Grian, feeling vaguely tricked. “It’s not my fault that you-”

“Yeah, it never is, is it?” He glares into the darkness. “It’s always a tragic inevitability with you, never a choice you’re making. That way you get to stab people in the back and pretend to be sad about it. Best of both worlds, huh?”

Grian splutters for a few seconds. “Why are you being so rude to me??”

“Because you’re you and I’m me.” He smirks. “Don’t know what you expected, honestly.”

“Oh yeah? Who’s hiding behind inevitability now?” Grian retorts, perhaps a trifle vindictively.

“I never said I wasn’t a hypocrite, sometimes. Also, I never said I felt bad about it.” He replies levelly, and all at once, they’re talking about something else.

“You didn’t need to say it.” Snaps Grian. “You might be good at lying but you’re not perfect. I could see in your face that it hurt.”

He narrows his eyes. “It felt good, actually.”

“Wow, good for you.” He says, almost amused suddenly. “You didn’t say I was wrong, though.”

His expression twists into something unreadable. “I know you, Grian. Like recognizes like.” He says, voice low and dangerous. “You’re a liar.”

Grian shrugs, despite the fact that Martyn will not see it. “And you’re a coward. Your point?”

“I don’t need to justify myself to someone who refuses to admit that he could have chosen to be better, if he’d ever wanted to.” He spits out.

“Hey, at least I don’t try and convince myself I’m a monster just because I want to survive.”

That one strikes something tender; he can tell. “Right, yeah, and you’re just a blameless angel and everyone you cut down had it coming, I’m sure.”

“I didn’t say that. But since you bring it up… how many people did you give up your time for, again?” He grins. “Is it less than one? Because I think it is. I think I’ve got you beat there, Martyn.”

“And where did it get you?” He snarls.

“Home, in the end.”

Martyn flinches back as though he’s been struck.

“Did you forget about that part?” Asks Grian.

There’s a long pause.

Martyn fidgets with the end of the banner he wears around his waist, pulling at where the white threads are coming undone. He stares out into the darkness. “Yeah.” He says. “I guess I did.”

The satisfaction of winning the argument feels less potent, suddenly.

“You’re right.” Says Grian, after a while. “I’m really bad at this.”

Martyn laughs quietly. “To be fair, I’m not exactly helping.”

“You’re really not.”

He sighs. “You know pulling the knife out just makes the wound start bleeding again, don’t you? That’s all we’re doing here. That’s all we’re going to do to each other. We’re too alike to do anything else, unless we just don’t do anything. And hey, we’re not great at that either.”

“Hmm.” Says Grian begrudgingly. “I’d say something about inevitability again, but I honestly don’t think you’re wrong.”

“We both just enjoy pushing buttons too much to be particularly good at not pushing them, I guess.” Martyn sounds half-amused, half-resigned.

Grian makes an irritated noise. “Yes, alright, I don’t need another reminder of the whole button debacle.”

There is more silence.

After a while, Grian speaks again. “There’s something I was wondering about, actually.”

“Oh yeah?” Martyn raises an eyebrow.

“What’s the reason?” He asks.

“You’re gonna have to be more specific with that one, mate.”

“‘This is a death match for a reason.’” He says matter-of-factly. “That’s what you said. So- what is it? What’s the reason?”

Martyn blinks, then lets out a short, harsh laugh. “You think I know that?”

“No, not really. That’s why I wondered what you meant when you said it.”

“It- look. I don’t know if you’re expecting philosophy from me, or something. It’s a death game. People die, and it doesn’t have to mean anything. It doesn’t have to be special, it doesn’t have to be honourable, it doesn’t have to be fair. That’s what I meant.” He frowns. “You know that.”

“I do.” He admits.

“Then why ask?” Martyn looks around as though this time, somehow, he might be able to find Grian’s face in the dark.

He doesn’t.

“I just-” Grian sighs. “What do you want?” He asks. “What do you actually want, Martyn?”

The question sits heavy in the darkness between them.

“What do you want me to say?” Martyn asks. He sounds more tired than Grian’s ever heard him.

“I want you to tell the truth.” Grian says. He needs to know. He needs to know.

“Now, Grian.” Says Martyn, voice gently chiding. “Have you met me? You know I can’t do that.”

“Pretend it’s a lie, then.”

Martyn’s grip on the banner he wears tightens, slightly. There is a long, long silence.

“Or how about,” Says Grian, eventually, “You say something, and I won’t know whether it’s a lie or not.”

There is another pause.

Martyn frowns at the red of the fabric in his hands, as though it might offer him something.

As far as Grian can tell, it does not.

He’s just beginning to give up hope of ever getting an answer when Martyn speaks, so softly he almost doesn’t hear it.

“I want it to be warm again.” He says.

It’s quiet.

For a moment – just a moment, no more – Grian remembers bloody, aching fists. He remembers burning heat.

“Well.” He says. “That makes one of us, then. Doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Says Martyn, voice low. “I guess it does.”

There’s another short second of silence before Martyn speaks again, sounding cheerful. “So, suppose I’ll see you in the next one, huh? If that ever happens.” He grins. “Wanna take bets on how hard Scott’ll have to try not to win it? I’m gonna go with very.”

Grian snorts. “I’m not taking that bet. That man is infuriatingly good at surviving.”

“You’re not wrong! You are not wrong.” He gestures into the void. “And don’t even get me started on Timmy’s whole thing, I think we both know how that one’s gonna go. Unless you want to bet against him being gone first next time round?”

“You’re not Scar.” Says Grian. “There’s no way you talk anyone into taking that bet in a million years. Except maybe Timmy.”

“Fair, fair.”

There’s a short pause.

Grian hesitates for a moment before he speaks – almost, but not quite, reluctant. “Why do you keep looking back?” He asks. “There’s nothing left for us there. You know that, right?”

“I mean, let me know when you find a better place to look.” He tilts his head to the side slightly, curious, and frowns. “Do you really never want to go back?”

“No.” Says Grian. “Never.”

Martyn opens his mouth, and then, uncharacteristically, closes it again. “Yeah.” He says. “Me neither.”

Grian is tempted, momentarily, to tell Martyn to take the banner off and let it go. Let the darkness take it. Prove it.

But just like Martyn, he lets it drop.

Mutually assured destruction is a potent thing.

Now all he has to do is the hard part. The part he’s dreading most of all.

The main concern is phrasing it correctly. Making it sound just how he wants it to sound.

After some thought, he thinks he’s found the words he's looking for.

He could always be wrong, though. He’s usually more one for incredible violence than smooth talking.

“Martyn?” He asks cautiously, casually. “Do you want me to help you?”

The expression that crosses Martyn’s face is unreadable.

He processes the question for a few moments, before he answers.

“Nah. I’m good.” He says, voice guarded. “Don’t worry about it.”

And that’s the rub, isn’t it.

Because now Grian has to decide whether he’s going to let Martyn lie to him or not.

Whether he’s going to pass the test that’s been set before him, or not.

...

Grian’s not a monster.

He’s just realistic.

There's nothing he could do, anyway.

“Well.” He says levelly. “Just let me know if that changes.”

(Martyn would do the same to him. It’s not a justification, or an excuse. But he knows it to be true.)

Martyn stares out into the darkness. His eyes are almost, but not quite, resentful. “Sure thing, man. Why wouldn’t I.”

It’s not said like a question, so Grian doesn’t answer it. “Well, you know I can’t stay here forever.”

“I do know that.”

“Any messages you want me to pass on to any of the hermits? I know you haven’t seen Mumbo in a while.” It’s not really a compromise, or a peace offering. Hopefully, however, it’s close enough to one or the other of those to act in their stead.

Martyn closes his eyes. Breathes in. Breathes out. Opens his eyes again. “If you were Grian, then maybe.” His gaze is cold. “But I think this hypothetical has gone on long enough.”

...It’s a lot easier for both of them, if Martyn believes that.

He’s positive Martyn knows that.

Just this once, perhaps he can manage to not look a gift horse in the mouth.

“For what it’s worth,” He says, looking away, “I moved on from the Bad Boys when it got too expensive to keep them alive.”

“It’s not worth a lot.” Says Martyn flatly. “And it would be worth even less coming from Grian.”

Grian sighs. “Alright. Fine. I’ll see you around, Martyn.”

“I know.” Says Martyn. He closes his eyes.

After a few moments, Grian does too.

When he opens them, he’s home.

…

Oh, that doesn’t feel good.

It really doesn't.

He could dwell on this. It wouldn’t be hard. He could drown himself in guilt over what he’s done, or not done, or will not do.

But- well.

Grian never really saw the point in letting someone else drag you down with them.

[endless-ineffabilities]

Maroon (part one)

modern!Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

The burgundy on my T-shirt when you splashed your wine into me

And how the blood rushed into my cheeks, so scarlet, it was (maroon)

themes: fluff, Aemond and the reader being friends first, shy reader, red wine antics, language + Aemond does not have his disability/lost eye in this one (but I plan to write it in for a potential part two)

word count: 3.8k

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

The reader has always admired Aemond Targaryen from afar, the brother of her best friend Helaena. Little does she know, she has caught his eye as well. Something is revealed one night, encouraged by a sudden splash of maroon.

"You've been awfully silent tonight," Aemond says, "and more so after Helaena went to bed. Is something wrong, y/n?"

Your fingers tighten around your wine glass, unsure of what to say. Perhaps you have withdrawn back into your shell when your best friend Helaena decided she was going to bed early. She is quite the lightweight, after all. A few sips of wine and she was out.

You didn't mind. But she left you here with Aemond, sprawled out on the expensive carpet in their living room. He gracefully leans against the couch, remaining poised. One thing you admire about him is the way he carries himself, almost with a sense of regal austerity that makes him intimidating to most people. Add that to the fact that Aemond is one of the heirs to the Targaryen business empire, the richest family in the city.

But for some reason, he is gentle with you. Treating you differently than he does anyone else. Almost with reverence. Helaena once joked that he shouldn't go easy on you too much, with you being tougher than you look. Aemond just laughed it off, but you stood there awkwardly, unable to hide the way your face grew flushed all over.

Your crush on Aemond Targaryen has only gotten worse since then.

"I'm not silent," you find yourself blurting out in a defensive tone, "I'm... just... nursing my wine, that's all."

Get your shit together, y/n.

A small smile appears on Aemond's lips, as he notices your increasingly flustered state, "Okay, I believe you."

"Good," you look down at your glass, swirling it around. What should I say next? What should I say next?

Aemond interrupts your nervous train of thought, continuing his sentiment slowly, "Because, you know, I would hate to think if there's anything wrong, or if you feel uncomfortable in any way. We are friends, y/n. I want you to feel that you can be free around me, as you are around Helaena."

He just knows the right words to say, doesn't he?

"I know," you respond, in a calmer tone that even surprises you, "and I appreciate that, Aemond. I apologize if I come off as aloof sometimes - "

"Don't apologize," he laughs dryly, "if there's anyone who knows what it's like to come off as aloof, it's me."

"True enough," you smile, taking a sip of your wine. You don't notice Aemond’s eyes follow your movement, fixating at last on the way your lips curve against the glass.

"Tell you what," he says, "how about we play a game? Break the ice even more and all that."

"A game?"

"Yeah, like, I haven't a clue... truth or dare?"

You gulp, your mind racing with the possibilities of what that game usually entails when played out, "I don't think that works with just two people, Aemond."

"Why not?" he slides a bit closer to you on the carpet, and your heart races ever faster.

"It just... it just doesn't!" you shrug, breathing out in a slight huff. He's so close. So close.

"I say it can work, y/n."

"Really, now?" you raise your eyebrows, "I'm not built for doing dares."

"We'll keep it simple. Nothing too ridiculous. And if we don't want to tell the truth, or do a dare, we just have to take three sips of wine."

"Hmm..."

"Or even soda, or water. If you prefer. I don't want to feel like I'm making you drink. Helaena would murder me if you get too drunk whilst in my company." Ah, Aemond. Always so considerate.

"I'm okay," you smile, "I'll stick with wine."

"So you accept my offer?"

You take a deep breath, in an attempt to steel your nerves. Before you can chicken out, and change your mind, you say, "Fine. Let's play."

"Wonderful," he smirks, "So, darling... truth or dare?"

"Truth," you croak, the way he addressed you as darling still echoing in your ears. There's no way you'll jump right into a dare.

"Okay. What was your first impression of me?"

"Oh," you rack your brain for an appropriate answer. One that can be said out loud in front of Aemond anyway.

"I, uhm, I thought you were polite."

"Polite?" he laughs freely, "glad to know I make that much of a lasting impression."

"I mean, not just that," you lean forward, "you were well put together, I guess. Quiet, but not shy. I got the sense that you know exactly who you are. You've got a strong sense of self, and as a result, you know how to take care of yourself, and your family. It's admirable, really." You also thought of running your fingers through his astonishingly silver hair, craving to know what it felt like, but he doesn't need to know that now.

"Hmm," he smiles softly, looking down, almost wistfully, "there was a time when I was quite different, you know. I was so insecure, and so angry. It's a miracle that I've grown into who I am now, but I am proud of myself for it."

Aemond is opening up to me? You get a sense of innocence with the way he spoke, and a sincerity, with all pretenses put away. Here, he is just Aemond, not this great heir or this renowned scholar. “That truly is something to be proud of,” you profess, “I, for one, am proud of the person that you are.”

His eyes light up as he looks at you, “That means a lot coming from you, y/n.”

“Does it?” you ask. Why would it? Since the first time you met, over a year ago, you have not had many lengthy interactions. The handful of times you were brought together, with only the two of you, were purely coincidental. Like this very moment. You did not expect to be drinking wine with him on the carpet tonight. You had actually considered heading home after Helaena went to bed, but Aemond took your hand, pulling you back down to sit with him, imploring you to please stay. Just a while longer.

And you are glad that you had.

“It does,” is the only thing that Aemond says in response, and as much as you want to press on, you decide to let it go.

“Okay, Aemond. Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” he takes a sip of wine. You think of how pointless the whole condition of only having to take a drink when refusing the challenge has become. You two continue to drink, either way.

“I dare you to… uhm, tell me something in High Valyrian.” You’ve always been fascinated by the Targaryens’ native language, them being originally from the faraway country of Valyria. It is truly a place on top of your bucket list, and you secretly wish that Aemond would take you there one day.

“That’s easy,” he smiles, then pauses, looking at you directly in your eyes. He takes a deep breath, as if mulling over what to say. Then you hear it.

“Iksā gevie.”

You swallow nervously. The way his voice deepened went straight to your head, making you feel slightly faint. You whisper, “That sounds… lovely. What does it mean?”

“I’ll let you figure that out on your own.”

You punch him lightly on the shoulder, your confidence gaining a significant boost from the wine, “Come on. Just tell me. What did you say again? Ikse gevya... gevy?”

He beams, amused by your pronunciation, “Iksā gevie,” he repeats, “Eek-sah gev-yeh.”

“Right, right,” you nod, taking another sip of wine, “Just you wait until I type that in Google Translate. It better not have been anything rude.”

“Oh, it wasn’t,” he promises. “Truth or dare?”

“Eh… dare,” you say, but you immediately change your mind. “No, wait, truth! I choose truth.”

“Are you absolutely sure, darling?” Aemond croons, tilting his head.

“Truth.”

“Alright, then. Are you seeing… uh…” he pauses, clearing his throat, “are you seeing any… any chance of you working for our company in the future?”

Are you seeing anyone? He had wanted to ask instead. Aemond internally kicks himself for pulling back.

You notice how weirdly he phrased that question. You choose your answer carefully, “Well, it’s definitely something I would consider. You know how much I admire your family. But, I don’t want anything handed to me on a plate. If I were to get a job there, I want it to be on my own merit. I don’t want you or Helaena or anyone to vouch for me, or put in a good word for me, just because I’m your friend.”

“I understand, darling.” He smiles at the determined way with which you spoke. His stubborn girl. “But if you ever need any help, I’m here.”

You reach out to squeeze his hand gently, as a sign of your appreciation, “Thank you, Aemond. You’ve always been kind to me.”

He looks down at your hand around his, and he clutches yours in return. When your eyes meet, you see that his gaze is so warm, so gentle. You feel as if you are being held. Like you’re safe.

You finally let go of his hand, “So, truth or dare?”

And so, the game continues for another half hour, the two of you growing increasingly inebriated by the minute. The wine glasses have been put to the side, the two of you opting to  take turns with drinking out of the bottle instead. You answer all sorts of questions from Aemond, such as “Which of the Targaryen siblings do you think should run the company?”, “Who’s your preferred drinking partner, Aegon or Daeron?”, and “Do you like my hair better short or long?”

You ask him your fair share, but one thing that sticks to your mind is what he answers to “Are you interested in anyone at the moment?”

“Yes. I think so.” He says, and you can tell that he is being honest. Your heart sinks at that. Of course, there would be someone who already caught Aemond’s eye. He is one of the city’s most eligible bachelors, after all. Women everywhere are vying for his attention. It only makes sense that he would eventually meet someone he truly liked.

“That’s great. I’m happy for you.” Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes, and Aemond astutely picks up on what you may have assumed.

“Darling, I - ”

You cut him off bluntly, not remembering that it’s his turn to ask, “Truth or dare, Aemond?”

“Hmm,” he stands, your question hanging in the air, with his hand outstretched for you to take, “come with me. I want to show you something.”

Taking the wine bottle, you stand and interlace your fingers with his. “Where are we going?”

He guides you out of the expansive living room, turning right at the end of a long hallway. He pries open a glass pivot door, revealing the private stairwell of their penthouse. Without a word shared, you climb up the flight of stairs together. One floor, two floors, three. Until you reach what can only be the roof of the high-rise building they live in.

The cool, midnight air is a refreshing assault to your senses. Immediately, you feel more awake, less drowsy from the wine. The rooftop is spacious and has been outfitted with a seating area, plenty of potted plants, dainty lighting fixtures that hang from the posts, as well as an exposed room littered with bust sculptures. The balcony stretches all around its perimeter, made out of ornately carved bronze.

“Wow,” you say, after taking it all in. “I’ve never been up here before.” You turn to look at him, and he seems pleased at your reaction. You add, “And you live here? Imagine. My entire apartment must only be a quarter of this rooftop, if not less.”

“Hmm,” he smiles, looking around, “I like to come up here to think. This rooftop is rarely ever in use, since my family all prefer to huddle downstairs. And well, Aegon’s afraid of heights.” He sneers at the end.

“Is he now?” you hand him the bottle of wine, “Remind me to bring that up the next time we see him.”

“Last time he was up here, he threw up over the balcony.”

“Oh, god,” Aemond laughs at the way your face scrunches up in disgust. “That’s quite a long drop. I hope he didn’t hit anyone on the sidewalk with it.”

“What a shame, really. That would have been the most interesting lawsuit.” Aemond remarks, before motioning with his head for you to follow him.

He reaches a plush seat facing the balcony, and the two of you sit in relative silence for a while. The whole city seems to be sprawled out below you, and the stars above also gleam much closer, like they are just within reach. Your wandering eyes take everything in with awe, but Aemond only watches you.

Instead of the stars, he thinks of how you are within reach. If only he would just let you know how he feels.

When you turn to finally look at him, you are surprised to see that he has been watching you. “Aemond,” you say, “why are you so nice to me?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, why are you so nice to me? From what I’ve seen, you are indifferent to most people. It can’t just be because I am Helaena’s friend, is it? You don’t have to treat me like I’m some fragile doll, you know. I won’t break, I swear.” Your voice takes on a sarcastic tone, and the corner of his lips lift in a smile.

He looks away, facing the tops of the buildings in the sprawling city that his family empire practically owns. Prince of the city, some people call him.

“I know that, darling.” He tilts his head partially towards you. “I like that you’re… different. I mean, trust me when I say, the crowd that the lot of us are exposed to tends to be entitled, shallow sycophants.”

“Bit harsh, Aemond.”

“Perhaps,” he smiles sardonically, “but anyway. I’m used to people only being interested in me because of my last name, or the family legacy. No one’s ever bothered to see me for who I truly am, save for only a handful of people. Because of this, I get quite protective of Helaena, since she can be overly trusting. She only chooses to see the good in others.”

“That’s what I love the most about her,” you say sincerely.

“Hmm, yes. But it also makes her more vulnerable. She’s had friends before, who were only clearly hanging around her so they might leech off of her higher status.”

“Aemond, I’m sorry to hear - ”

“But not you. I am aware that Helaena tried to help you before. Tried to get you a better apartment, or get you a high-ranking job with us. It would be easy, just like that. But you refuse, time and time again. You don’t mock us either, simply for being who we are, and having this much privilege. You see us as people, and unfortunately that’s a rare thing. I can tell that you truly care for Helaena, otherwise I wouldn’t let you hang around her at all,” Aemond smiles, nudging your shoulder, then drapes his arm on the back of the seat behind you.

“Overprotective brother much?” you taunt lightly.

“It’s an affliction I choose to bear,” you notice how he has leaned closer, his breath warm on your face.

You swallow nervously, “So, I guess you answered my question.”

“Partially,” he shakes his head slightly, “darling, I’ve got a long list of reasons why I like you, and that’s only scratching the surface.”

“Oh.” If you thought you felt faint before, then you were just about ready to pass out now. Panicking, you raise the wine bottle to your lips, taking a long drag. But when you pull the bottle away, you must have done it in a nervous rush, causing it to tilt in a way that wine spills out and splashes on your shoulder.

“Steady, y/n.” Aemond takes the bottle from you, setting it down on the stone floor.

“Fuck.” You look down and see the wine stain on your shirt, seeping wider, a shade of scarlet so deep it could be mistaken for maroon.

Suddenly, Aemond laughs. You want to act incredulous, or annoyed, but the sound of his laughter is so hearty and genuine. And so rare, that you find yourself smiling at the sight of his dimples deepening, and the faint lines around his eyes bursting free.

“What’s so funny?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he shrugs, shaking his head, “It’s just, at the rate you’re going with the wine, you could be giving Aegon a run for his money.”

“Ha-ha,” you dab at your shirt with your hand, but it doesn’t do much good.

“Come, I can lend you something to wear.” He takes your hand, leading you out of the rooftop.

“It’s alright, Aemond. I can just borrow one from Helaena.”

“She’s already asleep,” the two of you descend down the stairwell, stopping at the first floor below.

“I’m sure she won’t mind.” Where is he taking me? Must be the laundry room, or a guest room?

“I insist,” he declares, dropping your qualms altogether.

You come to a halt in front of a wooden door, painted a brushed forest green. Before you could ask anything, he holds the door open for you, “This is my room.”

You look at him expectantly, unsure of whether you should enter. He only smiles, “After you, darling.”

With your heart pounding in your chest, and the maroon patch still vivid by your shoulder, you step inside Aemond’s bedroom. It’s massive, predictably, just like every other room in this penthouse. The walls are a comforting, deep shade of forest green, just like the door. There are also accented panels of dark gray, to avoid a monotony of colour. The furniture is simple, clean, modern. Yet each one possesses intricate detailing. His bookshelf covers the entire eastern wall. His bed… well. You compose yourself, trying not to let your mind wander.

You feel him standing behind you, waiting.

“Nice room,” you say.

“Hmm,” you can practically hear the smile in his voice, “thank you. I don’t really bring anyone in here.”

“Oh, I don’t mean to impose - ”

“Stop. I asked you to come in here, y/n.” He walks over to a sliding door to the left, revealing a large walk-in wardrobe. Of course he would have one of those.

He disappears inside for a moment, before returning to you, a dark green sweater in his hand. The same shade as his bedroom walls. Hmm. Aemond seems to have an affinity for green.

“Here, put this on.” He hands the sweater to you. “This should be comfortable enough to sleep in.”

“Thanks,” you take it, feeling the material in your hands.

“No problem,” he continues to look at you, and you have to ask, pointing to the walk-in wardrobe, “Could I maybe change in there?”

“Right, sorry, I should have offered,” Aemond smiles, looking down.

“One second.”

When you gently slide the door shut, you lean back against it, taking the deep calming breath you’ve been holding in. Being around Aemond makes you feel as if your very skin is on fire. The attraction you feel for him becomes so palpable, making you somewhat a nervous wreck. There’s no need. Like he said, he is your friend, y/n.

You sit on the bench in the middle of the room, taking your shirt off. Hurriedly, you put on his green sweater, and he’s right. It is so damn comfortable. And it smells exactly like him.

“Everything alright in there?” you hear him from behind the sliding door.

“Y-yeah,” you say. Taking your stained shirt in one hand, you stand, and meet him outside.

He studies you, admiring the way his sweater hangs off your torso. “Hmm,” he remarks, as he always does, “you look better in it than I do, y/n.”

“Well, thank you,” you say sincerely, before adding, “but I have to disagree.”

“You look beautiful.” He suddenly says, the words immediately taking root in your heart, “You are beautiful.”

“What?” you croak, your voice coming out in an astonished whisper.

“That is what I said earlier,” he continues, “That is what iksā gevie means.”

“Oh.”

Aemond crosses the few steps needed to erase the distance between the two of you, plucks the shirt from your hand, and deftly tosses it to a nearby chair. Then, he takes your hands in his. He gazes into your eyes, and his expression is a mixture of longing and reluctance. He then traces your cheekbone with his fingers, delicately, as if you will crumble under his touch. And you just might.

“Aemond - ”

“Iksan jāre naejot vūjigon ao sir.”

You feel the urge to ask him what those words mean, instead you choose to simply let it be, and just bask in the sincerity in his tone. In the way he does not drop your gaze when he spoke them. In the way his hands slowly find themselves on your waist, pulling you close.

He leans in, slowly. And the whole world ceases to exist around you. The ringing in your ears becomes silenced, and there is only Aemond. You’ve always wondered what it would feel like, his lips pressed against yours. His devotion reserved only for you. It seemed like a dream, but now, it is well within reach.

But the dream is shattered when a heavy knock echoes throughout the room. Three, brief, raps on the forest green surface. That was all it took to break the spell.

Aemond’s brows furrow in frustration, his hands still on your waist. There is an anger in his voice when he calls loudly over his shoulder, “Yes?”

“It’s me, sir.” You recognize the intruder to be Criston Cole, the head of their family’s security team.

“Wait here, darling,” Aemond says, running his finger over your lips, over what he could have taken if you had not been interrupted.

Aemond opens the door, and you briefly meet Criston’s eyes from across the room.

Your presence in Aemond’s room seems to catch him off guard, but he straightens quickly, “Aemond, there is someone here for you.”

“At this fucking hour?”

Looking at you once more, Criston lowers his voice when he replies, but you hear it anyway. “It’s Alys Rivers. She’s waiting for you downstairs as usual.”

As usual. Alys Rivers. The famous model and socialite. You knew of her from the magazines, the internet. There have been tabloid articles of her and Aemond, but you knew better than to pay any attention to them, not believing that there could be any truth to such lowly forms of media. Or at least, that was what you assumed. But if she’s here, in this ungodly hour, then…

“I think I should get to bed,” you walk towards the doorway, “to Helaena’s room, that is.”

“No,” Aemond stops you in your tracks, grabbing your arm, “wait. We aren’t finished yet. I just - ”

“Your guest is waiting, Aemond.” You cut him off, not meeting his eyes.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he says, while he tries to get you to look at him, but to no avail. You’re worried that if you do, you might not be able to leave.

Criston shuffles out of the way to let you through, greeting you with a cordial, “Good night, y/n.” You notice how there might even be a hint of regret in his eyes.

Each step feels heavy as you make your way down the hallway to Helaena’s room. Compared to how you felt, mere moments ago, as though you were floating on air.

Sleep doesn’t come easy to you that night, your thoughts racing on what might be happening down the hall. Who is Alys Rivers to you, Aemond? Why did she have to ruin what would have been a perfect night? Are you just stringing me along?

When you finally succumb to slumber, you fall into a dream.

Of who else but Aemond? Of who else but the one whom your heart desires?

Ok ok ok. This will be the last thing posted before part 5 of Heart on Fire. I think. 🤞

“Iksan jāre naejot vūjigon ao sir.” - "I'm going to kiss you now." - Aemond 🖤

Maroon just had to be multi-chaptered. It might be my favourite track from midnights.

Apologies to those who have sent requests. I do see them, but I'm just a bit bogged with uni/life at the moment. Hopefully will write a lot more soon!

Also, thank you thank you for all the kind remarks/messages. You guys are amazing. Any suggestions for part 2? Let me know in the comments 🖤🖤🖤

Aemond/HotD taglist: @aemcndtargaryen @cryztalline @fairaardirascenarios @blackravena @vensidia @xinyourdreamsx @mrswhitethornbelikov @mikariell95 @thermiting @witchofthenorthstar @m00n5t0n3 @booknerd2004 @throughgoeshamilton @xcallmetaniax @wrendermeuseless @m-indkiller @graykageyama @nsainmoonchild @milemarianne @immyowndefender @moonmaiden1996 @caspianobsessed @schniiipsel @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @random-human02 @icarusignite @flourishandblotts-inc @siriusdumblittlepuppy @just-a-harmless-patato @moni-cah @boofy1998 @huntycola @angel6776 @sanguinalia @thelastcitysposts @daeneeryss @wondergal2001 @huntycola

[youronlylie]

hello people in my phone

BOONE head cannon list, just a mix of stuff that'll probably change later ( THERE WILL BE MORE ) 1/?

• He undoubtedly was ripped/heavily worked out being in the ncr, after moving to novac and loosing his wife he undoubtedly lost a lot of muscle but...guys he still is literally like beefed.

• He cannot fucking cook for shit, he understands what shouldn't be put in your body but from there he has no clue.

• Going off of cooking, he has strict times where he eats, like routine from the ncr.

• For some reason he strikes me as a guy who really enjoys fruit whenever he can get his hands on it.

• Cannot tolerate any sort of spice.

• Smells very mettalic, sweaty, like man must.

• Has a soft spot for cats.

• 1000% is not bald, just shaves his head as he probably prefers the look.

• I feel like with a romantic partner, since he isn't one much for talking his love language would be physical touch or gift giving, I could imagine him seeing stuff he knows they'd like and saving it for later, excited to see how they'd react.

• He would definitely have a special place in his heart for fantasy movies, he doesn't seem to be able to express himself well and I feel like the creativity of something like lord of the rings would get him going.

• I seriously cannot pick so I'll include both, he is either an extreme cuddler with a romantic partner or on very rare occasions, he's just terrible at expressing emotion.

• If the courier and him are something like romantic partners he'd definitely never be able to sleep, often awake staring and listening for noises, waiting for the next cascade of legionares but it never happens and he eventually learns that.

• I don't think he'd ever get married again unless it'd be over 20 or so years in the future, it's a type of commitment that I don't think he could mentally handle whatsoever unless he is totally over Carla.

• I definitely do think boone could find love again in another person, he's scared and alone, fearful for any sort of attachment.

• 10000% has really really nice man hands, like large hands with nice fingers.

• Is definitely tall but not close to arcade tall, 6' ish at MOST, I just feel like looking at his build and concept art that he is definitely a tall man.

• Secretly really has a thing for drawing whenever he can, especially when he was nested at novac, sitting up top the dinosaur scribbling stuff on old receipts or whatever else it helps him get his emotions and thoughts out.

• irl he would be so patriotic it's not even funny, like he'd go all out for fourth of July but is the somber type so he'd cook hot dogs and whatever else then sit in the corner and watch everyone else.

• Has a thing for memorizing features, very very very intuitive and will remember almost anything you tell him.

• He is so the type of guy to enjoy snow, like yeah he'd probably be kinda pissy for a bit but if you pushed his buttons enough I feel like he'd mess around with the courier.

• He absolutely like no doubt has nightmares, like the ones where you erupt in cold sweat and your throat is sore.

• If he does sleep like ever, along with nightmares he grips the sheets, rolls around a whole lot, mumbles. In the ncr he was the total opposite, stone faced, layed straight and slept some what peacefully until later on in his ncr years.

• Yearns for someone, even platonic, to just sit beside him, no words and scratch his back and kinda just touch him lightly. I don't think he'd cry but it's something I could imagine would bring him close to tears.

• He absolutely probably finds almost everyone annoying, like, he just is done with everything and doesn't give two shits about what anyone has to say unless the courier puts some sense into him.

• Really disagrees with gambling, just doesn't like it.

• Wishes he had a nice farm house, out somewhere away from everything, where it has everything he needs and could be away from absolutely everyone. ( of course after extracting revenge on the legion )

• He wants to learn how to play guitar, either he has tried and is horrible or has just never gotten the chance, I have a feeling he'd really be into (irl) like classic rock or something smooth.

• Cannot look at people with features his wife had the same, down to personality or looks.

• Absolutely dreads deep down without realizing going back to novac when the courier disbands him.

• He would like having books read to him, he's a listener not a reader, likes hearing people's voices just not his own.

• At a point probably had a nickname for his rifle, something like Beth or something that was a joke between him and Manny.

• Manny 1000% at a point tried hinting to boone or even confessing his love for him, either the point never got across or they got over it together. ( somewhat ish at a point )

• In all reality I play him out to be a really sweet guy, which I can imagine and he can somewhat tend to be but he ultimately really doesn't care, he'll kill in order to get what he wants ( so be it revenge or whatever else ) even if he isn't necessarily fond of it.

• At a point, consumed by guilt he forgets what Carla looks like and that eats him up inside, like the teeth gritting soul crushing ache for revenge, and a year or two leads him to completely forget her complexion.

[idkanymoreokay]

I have so many thoughts on the friendship between Flynn and Cassandra, I could write a million essays on it. But something that has really jumped out to me during my current rewatch is the way these two just easily understand each other without even trying.

They talk without having to verbally communicate most of what they're saying. They don't even seem to be aware of the fact everyone else in the room is looking at them in confusion because they can't hear the unspoken parts of the conversation.

They bounce ideas off each other so easily, instantly pick up on each other's trains of thought, and practically finish the other's sentences or ideas.

These two neurodivergent geeks, who never had anyone in their life truly grasp what goes on inside their head, suddenly found someone who knows and it's like they instantly latched onto that connection.

Cassandra also has her very close friendship with the other LITs, and Flynn has his relationship with Eve, but it's their friendship with each other that lets them both explore and indulge the parts of themself that other people just don't understand.

Cassandra is definitely the one out of the LITs that is most like Flynn, both in her skills as a Librarian and also in her personality and how her lightning speed thoughts tend to get translated into her words and interactions with others. (Which is a whole other topic I'd love to dive into another day.) But, yeah, it makes so much sense why they have no trouble at all understanding each other.

(Edit: Nope, that was supposed to be the end of the post but I have too many thoughts that need to be shouted into the void. Their friendship is very important to me. So...)

Jumping back to the very beginning - During the first two episodes, Flynn is perpetually annoyed by Ezekiel and just kinda ignores Stone. But Cassandra… He's absolutely fascinated by her from the moment they first meet. He takes a minute out of their incredibly urgent life-and-death mission to discuss her being a synesthete and geek out a little over the fact she has an eidetic memory like him. And Cassandra's immediate reaction of "Yes, wow" is like she can't believe someone is capable of immediately understanding what's going on inside her head and is 100% okay with that and not at all bothered by her being "different".

And then they get to Stonehenge:

And I think this is the moment Flynn really starts to appreciate how brilliant Cassandra is, and how very much like him she is. Flynn is a fairly competitive person with a genius brain like no other, but he doesn't get upset or offended when she takes over the calculations, and even carries them out faster than he could have. If anything, he looks genuinely impressed. He instantly understands what information she needs and readily gives it to her so they can continue solving the puzzle. They immediately settle into this easy back and forth, this rapid exchange of information and clues as they work at putting together the pieces. He's able to talk to her in a way he can't talk to anyone else. It's probably been a long time (if ever) since he's interacted with someone who can keep up with him.

Even after Cassandra has betrayed Flynn -- causing him to lose his home, the only family he had left, his best friend, and potentially his life -- he instantly accepts her back on the team and even sticks up for her when the others object. At this point, she hasn't apologized, shown any indication of remorse, or had a chance to make amends. And it doesn't matter to him. "She had her reasons" - and that's enough for him. He lets her out of the cell and immediately wants to hear her plan for stopping the Brotherhood.

And I think this is the moment when Cassandra -- similar to Flynn's realization at Stonehenge -- suddenly realizes that someone else can grasp her thought process. That someone understands the way her brain works. That someone is capable of following her trains of thought and not getting lost in the ordered chaos of her mind.

Just look at her smile!! She is trying to get across what she wants to say, and she's so used to having to break things down for others and still not being understood, and here's someone who instantly picks up what she's trying to convey. Look how utterly happy and excited she is when he gets it.

I love how much they appreciate each other's genius. I love how they can communicate on a different level. I love how much they genuinely care about each other.

And I absolutely love that it's through Flynn that Cassandra manages to have her moment for redemption, because he's already clearly demonstrated that he's the one member of the group she doesn't have to prove herself to.

I just... 😭😭😭

I love that Flynn has zero people skills and a very weak grasp on the concept of friendship and yet he meets this brilliant, weird, amazing young person and pretty much instantly connects with her. Because, like her, he also spent most of his life invisible and now someone actually understands him and is already so important to him, even if it's a while yet before he'll really fully understand the concept of friendship.

I love that Cassandra has spent most of her life feeling unseen and never truly accepted by the people around her. And then she meets someone who immediately sees her and understands how her mind works and appreciates and trusts her, and who introduces her to this life of mystery and magic where she can use her talents to save the world… and she already knows that he's important to her even if she doesn't realize just how much her life is going to change because of him.

There's SO MUCH more I could say about their friendship, but I should probably channel some of it into an actual blog post at some point. For now, here's some cute moments I grabbed while getting the screenshots for this post:

[strangersteddierthings]

Steve, Gareth and Chrissy are cousins AU (sad edition) [prologue] [part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Final Part]

The saving grace for Steve here is that all eyes are on Eddie, so no one witnesses how he freezes, just for a moment, when Eddie tells them who the 'she' is he's been referring to. How he just wanted to help her. Help Chrissy. Whatever Eddie has been saying has turned to buzzing, to white noise, to nonsense in the background of his mind.

He has to be wrong. Mistaking some other girl for Chrissy. Because it can't be Chrissy. It can't. Steve has worked so hard to keep his family away from the Upside Down shit. She couldn't be- there's no way she somehow got caught up in it. There's too many questions and not enough answers and when did the air get too thick to fit in his lungs?

Does Gareth know?

Gareth, who Steve knows is one of Eddie's friends and here Eddie sits before him, a witness to Upside Down shit. A witness to a murder they have no clue how to solve. Gareth, who isn't exactly friends with Mike, Dustin, and Lucas, but who is in the same club as them and on friendly terms. That's too many people connected to the Upside Down in Gareth's personal circle for Steve to be okay with.

He thought this was done. That they wouldn't ever have to deal with this shit again.

Eddie is still talking as the pounding in Steve's ears fades and he listens as Eddie swears, he just wanted to help, that she seemed so freaked out by something, and Steve's insides twist and churn. Why hadn't Chrissy come to him? Just last week he was at her house, hanging out and catching up. She never mentioned an issue. A problem. Something that would cause her to seek out heavier drugs than weed.

They used to tell each other everything. What changed?

His stomach drops as the answer comes to him.

He did.

He'd changed. He started keeping secrets first. Pushed Chrissy and Gareth away after that first incident and hadn't really started to let them back in until after Starcourt. He'd just wanted to keep them safe. Keep them as far away from this horror as possible. He'd ended the weekend sleepovers because of his nightmares, stopped inviting them over to hang out by the pool because he can't look at it without thinking about Barb, started avoiding them at school when he'd ended up beat to shit by Billy because he knew they'd dig for more answers than he could give.

No wonder Chrissy didn't tell him anything was wrong.

There's no way for Steve to know if he could have helped or not, even if Chrissy had talked to him. Eddie doesn't have answers; just a story.

Steve hates him a little bit. It's irrational. Eddie didn't do this Chrissy, (even if he had been arguing that point at Family Video) but it doesn't stop the anger inside him from boiling up. He doesn't act on it, of course he doesn't, he's not that person anymore.

Plus, acting on it would kind of negate everything Dustin just convinced Eddie of, such as he's not crazy and they do believe him, and Steve's not about to undo what Dustin's accomplished by taking Eddie by the vest and shoving him against the wall in a reverse of earlier. It wouldn't do any good, not now that they're all sure it's a new, unknown threat from the Upside Down that they'll have to figure out on their own.

No. Taking his anger out on Eddie won't solve anything.

He can be mad about this later.

It does sit heavy on him, though, that he doesn't think anyone in this boathouse knows Chrissy was his cousin. That the Upside Down has taken someone from Steve this time. He can't tell them. Robin wouldn't take it well, and Dustin might not either. They'll be sad for him, and he can't handle that right now.

He can mourn later.

-

Remember the fun lil fic of Gareth not wanting his cousins, Chrissy Cunningham and Steve Harrington, to ruin his street cred in high school? Well, the fun is done. Have some angst. More parts will follow but it's not really a fic? Just... disjointed scenes, rewritten from canon to fit the cousin AU.

[lalacliffthorne]

okay, so, I kinda hadn't planned on doing this; I hadn't even thought about it - whoops 🙈 there was literally just a before and after Azriel and Reader started dating in my head lol

but since so many of you asked and since it would be criminal not to - let's think about it ;)

the one where they stop being idiots 💞

okay, so I see a few ways of how this could go

let's look at two

as hinted in all the before-drabbles --

there have been moments

like

moments

like when either of you stares at the other for too long

or lingers in a hug

or the two of you are somehow always near each other

you get the gist

so we got all those lil moments

piling up, until technically, even an idiot should see that you really like Azriel

and that Azriel -

well, is down very, very bad

which, of course, means you have no clue

okay, so you kinda do

it's hard to ignore the tingling feeling in your belly

and that rising feeling in your chest whenever Azriel just looks at you

but you're very good at pushing that away

bc -

it's not that serious, right?

and even if you catch Azriel staring at you and he never looks away, just gets that twinkle in his eyes

and he always seems to linger a little too long when he's close, helping you with your jacket or brushing away a lash stuck on your cheek

and his gaze flickers down to what you swear is your lips -

there's really no way he actually likes you like that.

let alone feels his breath hitch every time you're close or gets that plummeting feeling in his chest when you as much as brush him

and even if there's some kind of attraction

there's no way that he has fallen for you just the same way you have quietly, creepingly and incredibly hard - fallen for him

...

yeah

since you are friends and living with a bunch of busy bodies

it doesn't take too long until at least one of them gets tired of watching the two of you be, frankly, idiots

maybe it's Rhys

over his not-so-subtle-hints and mischievous smirks, just turning towards you one evening in the kitchen

"alright, love - please tell me you're actually clueless and simply don't see that Az is down ridiculously bad for you?"

or maybe it's Mor

accidentally, literally blurting it out at brunch

something along the lines of "oh, yeah; of course he remembered, he remembers everything, plus he's completely in love with you, so -"

before growing still and becoming more wide-eyed than you have ever seen her

or maybe it's Cassian

after one drink too many, throwing an arm over your shoulder and raising his brows as he rumbles: "look, sweets, I love you. but if I have to watch Az stare longingly at you for another day, I'll lock the two of you in the pantry until you confess that you're completely in love with each other and make out. so, please, put the man out of his misery."

let's face it

it's probably all of them

bc they're just so over seeing Az pine after you and you pine after Az

and if you two would just talk about this -

anyway

you could've waved off one of them with a weak giggle and a "you're seeing things"

but three of your best friends -

who all know Azriel better than anyone else does -

two actually around both of you on a daily basis -

yeah, that's kinda hard to ignore

so suddenly, you start to notice everything

like everything

which makes your heart go into absolute overdrive whenever Azriel just looks at you

suddenly, you can't help but notice every little detail of him

and how he's acting around you

and how he's just insanely, annoyingly beautiful

and it does very strange things to your sanity

because suddenly, there's this tiny little voice in the back of your head that's whispering what if

and bc you can't be around Azriel without feeling heat wash into your cheeks and your breath becoming shaky and heart tumbling -

it's a bit of a mess.

and you really should say something

because it's getting increasingly, ridiculously difficult to keep yourself from leaning up and kissing him whenever he stares at you for too long, that half-crease in his cheek -

but you chicken out every time

and you kinda have a reason for that!

bc you love these boys

and what if something goes wrong and the others are wrong after all and you are wrong and he doesn't actually like you

bc then you would mess things up and you can't risk that and -

yeah

it really is a bit of a mess

well, until

that fateful almost-kiss

(pls don't kill me for the edging)

you're pretty sure it was an almost-kiss

like, 80 %

you turn it over enough in your head to be mostly sure Azriel wasn't just - about to wipe cake of your cheek or smth

just like you turn over the rest of the night you spent in your room with him

curled up on your bed, watching movies

ending with you falling asleep with your head on his chest

bc again

you're about 80 % sure you caught him staring at your lips at least twice

which means -

now

you are really screwed.

bc damn that thing messes with your head

I mean sure

the whole does he feel that tingling attraction too or am I seeing things-problem sorta went out of the window

but still

what if it was just a moment-thing?

or if maybe he doesn't like like you and it's all just physical attraction?

what if it isn't but it still doesn't work out bc at some point Azriel realises that you are actually not chill like he is and instead a lil ball of nerves and quirks??

what.

if.

you're basically quietly stewing in your own thoughts that are slowly getting out of control

and you just get more and more panicked, spinning in circles

until -

you lose it

it's probably a moment when the two of you are alone

maybe you're in the kitchen, responsible for making dinner for a change

and the silence is, at least for you, for once not calm like it always is with Azriel

instead, it feels like the air is buzzing and your heart does weird maneuvers and everytime you just get into close vicinity to Az, you feel like you're about to burst

and somewhere between chopping vegetables and putting cuttlery onto the table

you suddenly end up crowded against the counter

with Azriel towering over you, impossibly close

and he stills when he realises, in the middle of taking plates out of the cabinet, his eyes piercing yours

and your heart is racing because you can feel him

and because it feels like his gaze is pinning you to the spot

and because he's so close

and maybe Az sees something in the way you're staring up at him, wide-eyed and panicked

maybe he even feels the way your breath suddenly flutters

or how your heart is pounding painfully against your ribs

but Azriel slowly, carefully puts down the plate in his hand, placing it on the counter behind you

not once looking away

and then his lips curve a little and you're pretty sure the world lurches at the sight

it always feels like just looking at him causes a knife to twist under your ribs because he's just so damn beautiful

but right now, he looks fucking heavenly

the warm kitchen lights throwing shadows under his jaw, making his cheekbones look even sharper

that barely there crease in his cheek as his gaze slowly drag over your face

and he's tall and all broad shoulders and piercing eyes

and he looks at you the way he did before the almost-kiss

and suddenly

you just cannot keep it in any longer

"So, Mor said you're in love with me?"

The second you blurt out the words, you feel your eyes widen.

Well shit.

Azriel blinks, his lips parting; like maybe, for once, he has not forseen this turn of events.

You wouldn't blame him. You're currently wondering whether looking at him for too long has made your brain short-circuit.

"I mean -" You stare up at him, heat rising into your cheeks while your heart is pounding against your ribs. "I - okay, I didn't mean to say that, I, uhm, I just - thought about that thing that happened the other day; well, almost happened, and uh -" Your voice is actually shaking a bit now and sounds a little like you're about to faint, and that's not that far off, because shit -

"l mean, uhm -" Your throat finally gives up like it has decided to shut you up before you can make things worse.

And that's when you realise Azriel is still staring at you.

Only suddenly his iris looks like molten gold, and his gaze is a little feverish as it darts over your face, deep and heated and like he's trying to drink you in as his lips slowly curve upwards.

"Remind me to get her back for this."

His deep voice sends tingles down your spine, because you have never heard it this low and hoarse before, and it takes you a moment until the meaning of the mumbled words reaches you.

Your lips part, and suddenly, your heart feels like it's trying to escape your chest.

"Get her back for what?" Your whisper is so breathless, you almost swallow it.

There are creases in Azriel's cheek that make your knees feel like jello as he stares down at you, something feverish and heated in his eyes when he mumbles hoarsely: "For telling you before I could."

Your breath catches in your throat, and your heart does one huge jump. Then it stills.

"What?" Your voice sounds so breathy, you're not sure Azriel even heard it, at least until scarred fingers slip under your chin, a thumb softly brushing over your cheek as his eyes narrow a little, the crease in his cheek deepening.

"You think I was this close to kissing your just for shits and giggles?" Azriel would sound dry if there wasn't that slight edge to his hoarse voice, if his eyes weren't flickering over your face feverishly and carefully, almost anxiously. You think you can feel his breath hitch and stutter when your nose almost brushes his, and suddenly you realise he's gotten really close, close enough that you can feel his breath on your lips and his scent making your head swim.

"No?", you somehow manage to whisper, your voice almost breaking.

Azriel makes a noise at the back of his throat, deep and a little desperate; his nose nudges yours, and as a shiver runs up your spine and your breath stills in your throat, he mumbles "No." and dips his head to kiss you.

And you're pretty sure the world just stops.

Becomes so quiet you can hear your heart rising in a wild flutter, the way your breath shudders as you exhale in slow motion, and the quiet sound Azriel makes deep in his chest as his hands slide to the back of your neck.

And then he's kissing you. And his lips are warm and soft and pressing onto yours more feverishly with the second, and your hands rise to slide up his waist, hold onto him, and suddenly, you're not even close to being close enough.

Your legs are shaking when you move, push closer, until your chest is pressing into Azriel's, and he makes another soft noise before slipping his fingers into your hair; his body moving yours backwards until he's crowding you against the counter and you feel the cabinets press against your legs. Then Azriel deepens the kiss, his lips parting yours, and suddenly, you feel like starlight.

and with that

pretty much every question just vanishes.

erased by the way Azriel is kissing you, deep and feverish and desperate, like you're oxygen and he's been underwater for years

dinner's completely forgotten as you move through the kitchen, hips bumping against the counters and the table until you end up on the couch

Azriel's hands gripping your waist as you straddle him, your fingers buried in his hair as your bodies mold into each other and Az begins to figure out the 100 different ways to kiss you

and somewhere in the back of your brain

the part that isn't completely consumed by the way his chest is pressing into yours and scent is filling your lungs and body melts into yours

you wonder how a)

you ever made it without kissing him

without feeling his warm skin beneath your fingers and the taste of his lips and the way his hands slip under your shirt and press you closer

without hearing the tiny sounds he makes, deep and a little breathless as he's kissing you and you're kissing him back

and b)

how you're supposed to stop

bc now that you know what kissing Azriel feels like

you're really not sure how long you'll be able to go for without it.

(he does actually tell you the thing he's gonna give Mor shit for spilling for for the next decade

mumbled against your lips

and you're not sure how your heart doesn't give out with how far it leaps

but somehow, you manage to whisper those three words back

and Azriel makes a noise that causes your breath to tumble, bc it sounds like he doesn't quite believe it

and so you mumble it a few more times, until he kisses the words from your lips and you kiss them back onto his and neither of you can breathe)

of course there's the other option as well

the one where Azriel just can't help himself anymore

the one where you're sitting next to him in a quiet corner of the library or on the couch or in the passenger's seat of Rhys' car

and you're focused on something; your laptop, a book, your phone

and you have that slightly distant look on your face, your brows crunching

and even tho you're wearing a hoodie he's pretty sure belongs to Cassian, because it's massive on you, and your hair looks a lil wild

he feels like he's about to burst

because you're just too fucking beautiful

and he already missed his first shot bc of that fucking honking car

and it's getting hard to breathe and he really just can't take it anymore

and bc of that

he reaches over and slides his hand under your jaw, gently pulling it up and towards him

and for a moment, you're really confused, because does he want to show you something or -

and then he leans over

and suddenly

your head's empty

bc he's so close that you can see the flecks of gold in his eyes and the shadows of a few freckles scattered over his nose and how long his lashes are and -

his scent washes over you, and your breath gets violently caught in your throat the same moment Azriel stills, barely an inch away

you can feel his breath on your skin and the warmth of him and how your heart is suddenly pounding against your ribs

and Azriel swears he will remember that moment until the day he dies

because you look like you've forgotten how to breathe

and you're staring at him in a way that makes every sense of doubt he had ever had about himself trickle away until there's nothing left but that harsh pulsing feeling in his chest

and he swears to himself he's gonna tell you he's hopelessly, utterly in love with you like a complete idiot

that he has been falling since the day you waltzed into the lives of him and his best friends

and how instead of crashing, the way you beam at him has given him wings

and a bunch of other stuff that won't even come close to describing how you make his heart beat out of his chest and breath hitch and whole being settle

but right now, he needs to kiss you

because he's been an absolute idiot for waiting this long

and he feels like if he waits just a second longer, he's gonna explode into a million pieces

and so

his heart pounding against his ribs and his breath getting stuck in his throat

he dips his head and kisses you

and then, just for a while, he forgets about anything and everything that's not you

@ailyr92 @azrielshadows1nger @waytoomanyteenagefeels @secretlyhers @knmendiola @luvmoo @azriels-mate2 @bookishbroadwaybish @maybe-a-winchester @stayinglow-exploringworlds @harrystylesfan2686 @icey--stars @ssmay123

[king-zacharyy]

IF YOU HATE HELLUVA BOSS, HAZBIN HOTEL, AND/OR STOLITZ, DO. NOT. INTERACT. (WITH THIS POST OR MY PAGE)

Okay, I am currently rewatching Helluva Boss, and I just finished S1 Ep7: OZZIE'S, and... How do some people genuinely believe Stolitz is one-sided?

From what I've seen, Blitzø absolutely returns Stolas' feelings, even if he refuses to acknowledge/accept that he does. A lot of people, from what I've seen, have been using Blitzø' words to Stolas in OZZIE'S and his words about Stolas to Fizzarolli in OOPS as arguments for why Blitzø "clearly" doesn't love Stolas back, but my question is, do some of y'all not have basic media literacy?

Sorry if that’s rude, but seriously. There are plenty of clues to how Blitzø is actually feeling during and after these scenes.

1. Blitzø was literally holding back TEARS as he said that in the van scene.

2. He says that Stolas has made it very clear that all it is is Stolas wanting to be fucked. That wording is very distinct and, honestly, says that Blitzø does NOT want it to just be a Fuck Buddies things.

2.5. May I remind everyone that Stolas literally calls Blitzø his "Impish little plaything" in Truth Seekers? And that that likely just confirmed the insecurities we know he was already feeling? (We know he was feeling insecure about his and Stolas' relationship already because of how he reacted in S1 Ep5 to Striker goading him)

3. Literally ALL of what happens after the van scene. Including all of Episode 8. He goes home and cries himself to sleep, and then goes and self-destructs at a party. Bee said it herself that he wasn't drinking to have fun.

4. In S2 Ep6: OOPS, His face when he said it was nothing more than Stolas being horny gives away how hurt he actually is. He is desperately trying to convince Fizz and remind himself that Stolas doesn't want anything more.

Honorary mention that I'm not sure is really a fifth point is him calling Fizz and Ozzie hypocrites.

Moving on from those scenes and onto Blitzø's insecurities about love and his self-worth issues. Blitzø does not believe he deserves love. He does not believe anyone does or can love him. We can see this in how he acts with the people in his life. He pushes them away. He is obsessed with M&M's relationship because they're the only model of a healthy relationship he's ever had, and he wants that with someone. We also can tell because of how he reacts to what Fizz and Verosika say in OZZIE'S.

Blitzø hates himself. He crosses out his face in the pictures hung up in his apartment. He blames himself for an accident that caused his mother's death, his best friend to lose his limbs, and his sister to hate him.

No one was truly there for him after the accident. Fizz may have been crippled, but he had a support system. Blitzø did not, and no one was there to tell him it wasn't his fault.

Not to mention the fact that up until the accident, he was CONSTANTLY being put down and told Fizzarolli was better than him. Even his own father cared more for Fizz than him. Honestly, I'm surprised there isn't any actual animosity towards Fizz on Blitzø's part.

Speaking of the fire and Fizz, Blitzø was planning to confess romantic feelings to Fizz that night before the accident (We know this because of the letter and flower he was holding before the fire started). That likely made it difficult for him to confess his love to someone because if you think his brain wouldn't connect love confessions to the greatest trauma of his life, you're dead wrong.

Brains make weird ass connections when it comes to trauma/traumatic events.

In conclusion, Blitzø loves Stolas, Stolas loves Blitzø, and they both need to heal and get their shit together. Stolitz forever.

Kloveyoubye ❤️