#I screwed up the palette and lines but hey

[flo-n-flon]

"I see sparks of light trying to fill the shadows, and the shadows trying to swallow the sparks."

[bestiesenpai]

Youtuber Sukuna pt3

Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to get through this thing called life! I never thought youtuber sukuna would be so popular, so thank you everyone for giving me encouragement to continue this lil series. This will be the final part, but who’s to say we can’t have an OVA episode?? I smell a beach episode...or maybe a trip to an onsen? Who knows!

Part one --- part two

This had to be the stupidest thing he’d ever done. It certainly felt like it. Scrolling on Pinterest was the last thing he wanted to do, in fact it was something he openly mocked in the past, but now per your advice, he was looking at thousands of photos of home decor.

Sukuna was hesitant to admit to you that he had no furniture in his home. After seeing how well decorated and lived in your home was, it only made his shame increase at being a grown man with foldable furniture. But you took it in stride and offered to help, even making him share a Pinterest board with you so the two of you could get inspiration for a shopping trip.

That’s how he found himself at IKEA on a bright and early Saturday morning. You’d begged him to let you come shopping with him, and Sukuna was a man unable to refuse any request you made of him.

“Ah, this is going to be so exciting!” You shouted, nearly running to the carts at the front of the store. You were clearly more excited than he was, your energy seemed to know no bounds as you bounced on your heels and waited for him to trudge to the front door.

“What’s so exciting about furniture?” He grumbled, subconsciously taking the cart from your hands. Pushing into the store, Sukuna felt like he had been transported to another world. With staged living quarters that looked more real than his own home, he was at a loss for words.

“Sukuna, c’mere!” You were already ten paces ahead, standing at the entrance to one said fake home. Coming upon it, Sukuna nearly gagged at the color palette. There were bright orange tufted couches with a blue area rug and more pillows than he had owned his whole life. With white accents and gunmetal colored lamps, it looked far too much for him.

“It’s ugly.” He said, not caring about the other people around you that seemed to enjoy it.

“Really?” Taking another look around, you shrugged your shoulders and took a step back. “You’re right, it doesn’t really fit your whole vibe.”

That was definitely correct. If Sukuna had to give a name to his personal style it would be ‘who the fuck cares as long as it works’. He wasn’t one to dwell on his looks for too long, just content grabbing clothes that were easily accessible and trendy, ones that he knew would help him fit in. And that habit had bled into his furniture choice as well.

“Okay, you seemed to pin a lot of pictures that look like this-” Leaning over, he watched you scroll past picture after picture of what almost looked like the same thing, a living room with dark colored couches, a white rug and dark colored walls, almost always with a metal or dark wooden coffee table.

“Yeah, it fits me.” Wandering through the store, Sukuna glanced at an all white room with a window frame encasing a faux view of a city lit up at night. “None of this shit.” He made a vague gesture to the room, and the one following it that looked similar.

“You don’t want any bright colors at all?”

“My hair’s already pink, what more do you want?” That made you snort and giggle, and in turn made Sukuna smile.

“Okay but you can’t just have all black furniture, it’ll make your house feel like a dungeon.” Your hand came to rest on the handle of the shopping cart, dangerously close to laying on top of his. “Promise we’ll get at least a little color today? Maybe a yellow, or a pink to match your hair.”

“S-sure.” Sukuna couldn’t look at anything except for your hand. Your pinky finger was just barely touching his, almost enough that Sukuna could slide his hand under yours and interlace your fingers together.

“Ooh, what about this for your bedroom?” And just like that, you were gone. Dashing off to a display on the wall for bed sheets. “You said you only have a plain white one, right?”

“Yeah.”

“How about this? This design is really trendy right now.” You were pointing to one that was a deep navy, white grid lines crossing over to make big squares.

“I like it.”

“Awesome! Now, do you have a queen or a king bed?”

After picking out the bed sheets, Sukuna slowly opened up more to the idea of shopping. He was able to recognize pieces he’d seen on Pinterest, picking them out as things he readily liked and would enjoy looking at in his house. He was even persuaded to get a few area rugs for different places in his house, and before he knew it you had piled the basket high with things.

“Ah, today was so much fun!” You sang, bouncing in your seat on the way home from IKEA.

“Now I just need to build all this shit.” Sukuna was amazed at how much you’d convinced him to buy. He had new furniture for his bedroom, a new couch was going to be delivered, a dining table and chairs and even a new desk and chair for his office setup in the corner of his living room.

“Lemme help!” You looked far too eager to help him build, and although Sukuna wanted to tell you no - he really didn’t want you to see how he was currently living - he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to have you in his house with him, working together on something.

“Alright. Let’s stop somewhere and get food though, I’m hungry.”

One quick fast food meal that Sukuna loathed later, you were carrying things up to his apartment. He refused to let you carry the heavy things even if he could really use the help with some of the oblong boxes. But he didn’t want to risk you getting hurt, so you carried the small things.

When everything was inside the house, Sukuna watched your reaction to his place. You hadn’t made a sound when you first arrived, you were probably too busy trying to bring everything in from his car.

“Sukuna…” Scanning his apartment, your eyes landed on his abysmal furniture.

“Yeah?” He screwed his eyes shut, dreading what you had to say.

“This is totally what I expected from you.” You laughed, unpacking some of the fake plants you made him buy. “It totally fits you.” Letting out the breath he’d been holding in, Sukuna grabbed one of the boxes containing his new desk.

“Let’s get started.”

If Sukuna thought cooking with you was hard, building furniture with you was the final boss level. He had you read the instructions while he laid all the pieces out, and when you let out a whine at how many steps there were, Sukuna could have died happily right then and there.

It was easy to build the furniture he bought, but it wasn’t easy to work with you. There was no problem with your actual work, but the fact that Sukuna had to be so close to you at times, nearly hugging you when he had to hold up a piece for you to put a few screws in, it was too much to handle.

He quickly banished you to work on another project. It was your fault he kept getting distracted and forgetting what step he was on, so the only solution was to work on separate things. Plus, watching you flit around his house, hearing you change the bed sheets and lay down a new mat in the bathroom made him feel like you were newlyweds decorating your first home together.

“It looks so good in here!” It was well past dark when you finished everything. It truly did look like a brand new space, and not just in the living room. The touches you’d added, with bright pillows, fake plants and some actual art on the walls, made Sukuna happy to be home. His place finally felt like a home and not just somewhere to crash at the end of the day.

“You did a great job picking shit out, I woulda never been able to do all this.” Putting his arm around your shoulder, he gave you a squeeze.

“Are you gonna do a house tour when the couch and table come?” A house tour? Why would he do that? Knitting his brows together, Sukuna sent you a look. “C’mon, you know what a house tour is! All the popular Youtubers do them.” You giggled, wiggling your eyebrows. “And aren’t you a popular Youtuber?”

“I-” Well, you had him beat there. His subscriber count was well into the millions at this point. “Okay, I’ll do one when the rest of the stuff comes.”

“Yes!” Bouncing up and down in joy, you clapped your hands together. “I’ll help you film, I know how bad you are at angles.”

“Hey! I’ve been getting better!”

In a week, you were back at his place, more excited than him to film this video. You’d helped prepare a little script should he need it, and you were fluffing all the pillows so they looked nice on camera.

“Let’s have an entryway shot, those always look so cool!”

“Whatever you say.” Sukuna was merely a puppet on your strings, maneuvering however you saw fit. He made his hands as steady as possible getting b-roll shots of everything in advance.

“If you forget what to say, remember I made a script!” With that final warning, you were standing at the entrance to his apartment and waving your hand. “Okay, start!”

“Hi people on the internet. This is my house tour that (Y/N) is making me do.”

“Shut up!” You laughed behind the camera, trying not to shake it.

“This is my kitchen and dining room, (Y/N) picked out the table and chairs for me.” Doing a sweep over the kitchen, he transitioned to the living room. “And this is the lounge room, where (Y/N) picked out the couch and rug, and my desk stuff over there.”

“Yeah, Sukuna had no rugs in his apartment before!”

“Mhmm.” Somehow Sukuna managed to not stumble over his words, easily recalling parts of the script you had written for him. Highlighting the fake plants and cheap art on the walls, the two of you stood in the bathroom together.

“Look, it’s us!” You waved to the camera in the mirror, nudging your shoulder with Sukuna. Suddenly, the image of getting ready in the morning with you or winding down after a long day together in the bath flashed before Sukunas eyes. What would it be like to come into the bathroom while you were in the shower and join you? Give you a shoulder massage under the hot running water, or to brush his teeth and tell you to hurry up and not waste water.

“And this is the bedroom.” Quickly exiting the bathroom, Sukuna hid his blush with his hand as he entered the room.

“Hold this.” Shoving the camera in his hands, you leapt onto the bed. “This is where I sleep!” Your laugh was easy and you rolled around his bed a few times, simply having fun wrinkling the sheets.

“Uh- w-wha-” Sukuna nearly dropped the camera in shock. Seeing you in his bed, even if it was just on top of the sheets fully clothed, made his heart stop. Gripping the camera hard in his suddenly sweaty hands, Sukuna nearly tossed it to the side and joined you.

“Just kidding!” You were already climbing out of bed as soon as that thought entered his head. “But isn’t this room pretty? I picked out most of the stuff in here too.” Just like that you were back to normal, talking about some random print on the wall that he’d ordered per your suggestion.

Needless to say, Sukuna had a hard time falling asleep that night, the image of you in his bed burned into his mind like it was the only thought he’d ever have again. His imagination was going wild, and he tossed and turned all night - even after relieving some tension.

With his new desk setup, Sukuna felt motivated to edit the video as fast as he could. What you said about improving his living quarters was true; now that his place looked nice, he felt nice in turn. He even left in the part where you jumped on his bed, adding a funny break in the video like you’d shown him.

‘IT’S CONFIRMED. IT’S CONFIRMED. THEY’RE DATING’

‘sirpohdjb my ship has sailed!!’

‘I come here to see why sukunax(Y/N) is trending and it’s this bullshit?? Y’all need to get a life’

Sukuna often felt like a fool when he was with you, and sometime after as well. Even from the first comment he left on your Instagram, he knew people shipped you together and wanted you to date. He felt embarrassed more times than not, but it seemed he never learned his lesson. That scene of you on his bed had gone viral and he regretted leaving it in.

But could you blame him? You made his head spin, most of the time leaving him incapable of doing anything else beside standing in his place looking stupid. It was hard to edit the videos you did together because reliving the footage made him dizzy all over again.

(Y/N): SUKUNA. ANSWER ME ITS URGENT

It was the middle of the day in the middle of the week and Sukuna had nothing better to do than laze around and do nothing. Except now, he was texting you back with his heart suddenly pounding.

Sukuna: what?! Is something wrong where are you??

So much adrenaline was coursing through his body that he had started to shake.

(Y/N): I just got a great idea, I need to know if you’ll do a video with me!

What the fuck.

“What the fuck?” Sukuna said out loud, staring at his phone in disbelief. This is what was so urgent? Nearly sending him into an early grave for a possible video?

Sukuna: what the fuck I thought it was serious

Sukuna: I thought you were in trouble

He wasn’t upset per say, but Sukuna was definitely annoyed.

(Y/N): sorry :( i didn’t mean to scare you

Sukuna: you did more than scare me

(Y/N): I’m sorry! I won’t do it again!

Now Sukuna felt bad and it wasn’t even his fault. In all the time you’d known each other, you never had a negative interaction. He waited five minutes for you to text something, but you didn’t and it was making him anxious all over again.

Sukuna: well tell me what the idea is

(Y/N): no, it’s okay it was a stupid idea anyway

It took you another five minutes to respond, and your answer made Sukuna groan.

Sukuna: you got me all worked up and you’re just gonna leave me hanging?

He had to rectify the situation somehow.

(Y/N): I just thought...of maybe doing your makeup for a video?

Sukuna: what

(Y/N): I told you it was stupid! Just forget it

Sukuna: shut up it’s not stupid

As typing bubbles appeared and then disappeared, Sukuna could just imagine the way your cheeks puffed out indignantly.

(Y/N): here’s a link to someone else who did it with her boyfriend, they had so much fun together!

(Y/N): let me know if you wanna do it, I think it could be a lot of fun…

Sukuna only needed to look at the thumbnail to know he would say yes. The two people on the screen were very close, with the girl nearly touching her boyfriend's face with her own. They had big smiles on their faces as well, and that enticed him more.

Sukuna: I’ll do it

(Y/N): really?? That’s awesome! Come over to my place on Friday, we’ll order pizza and make a day of it!

And that’s how Sukuna found himself in your filming room, stomach full of pizza with a disgustingly cute green frog headband keeping his hair back. He’d seen this room a hundred times in the backgrounds of your videos, but now he was actually here. There were even more plushies than appeared on camera and you had a humidifier going in the corner.

“Okay now stay still, I’m going to wipe a toner on your face.” He had no idea what that meant, watching you with curious eyes pick up a bottle from the table in front of you and dab the liquid onto a cotton pad. “Usually I use my hands to apply toner, but we wanna wipe the dust off.”

With a gentle hand, you held Sukuna by the chin and swiped the cotton across his face, it’s soft chemical scent wafting into his nose. It felt nice, having you apply toner and moisturizer on his face. The most he ever applied was sunscreen, but maybe he could convince you to do his skincare for him every day.

“So today, I chose this makeup look by Beyoncés makeup artist! It’s a really popular style called ‘soft glam’.” Sukuna nodded along with you like he understood what you meant, taking a glance at the picture on your phone before you showed it to the camera. “I think Sukuna would really fit this kind of look, he is a natural beauty afterall.”

“Shut up.” He snorted, a light flush heating his cheeks.

“It’s true! There’s so many comments under your house tour video saying how good you look with the new furniture.” You spoke about the new makeup you bought for the video as you applied the products. Sukuna tried to keep up with what you were doing and saying, but he couldn’t really contribute anything to the conversation about makeup.

“Tuck your lips in so you don’t get foundation in your mouth.”

“What?” He jerked away right as you lifted the small dish you had with what he assumed was foundation.

“I don’t think you want to eat makeup, do you?” You chuckled and pat him on the cheek. “Tuck your lips in.” Doing as you asked, Sukuna flinched when you gripped the back of his head. “Try not to move too much, I want it to be even.”

As you applied the foundation and subsequently the concealer and powder, Sukuna barely moved. In fact, he barely breathed. You had leaned in far closer than you’ve ever been to him, your breath lightly fanning over his face as you worked to smooth everything out.

The hand on the back of his head dipped down to rest at the base of his neck, your body coming to lean more onto him as time went by. You were speaking, Sukuna could hear it, but he wasn’t responding. The excuse was he didn’t want to mess you up, but in truth he couldn’t find any words to say.

“Look at you!” Holding up a mirror for him, you laughed at his shocked face. “How do you like it?”

“I look so flat.” Turning his head side to side, Sukuna lifted a hand to touch his face.

“Don’t touch it, you’ll mess it up!” Snatching his hand away, you held it tightly in your grasp. Sukuna was thankful for the layer of makeup he had on now, no one could see his blush.

“What’s next? This eyeshadow shit?” He picked up a product on a whim, opening it up and staring at it. “Why’s there only two colors? Why are both of them brown?”

“That’s contour, we’ll get to that! This is the eyeshadow!”

Putting eyeshadow on Sukuna was harder than both of you thought. Not used to the feeling of the brush, he twitched every time it was swiped across his eyelid. Through plenty of trial and error, and many times of you telling him to just take a deep breath, you got through it.

“I’m gonna have to cut out so much of you flinching.” You teased, checking the camera to make sure everything was still working.

“I don’t get how you can do this shit, it’s fucking awful.” All Sukuna wanted to do was rub his eyes and face until his skin went raw.

“We aren’t even at the worst part yet: eyeliner.” Taking a seat, you lifted up a simple black pen.

“Oh god.” Hanging his head, Sukuna said a quick prayer for his eyes before straightening up and taking a deep breath.

“Sukuna, I gotta ask you something.”

“What is it?” Cracking an eye open, you were looking at him with your lip caught between your teeth.

“Can I...I need to sit in your lap to do eyeliner.” Sukuna audibly and quite loudly gasped in shock, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. “When I help my friends with eyeliner I sit in their laps! It’s just easier that way!”

“I-I uhm- okay?” He eventually forced the word out, copying your movements and turning his chair to face yours. “What uh- what should I…?”

“Sit still.” Pulling your chair flush with his, you pushed Sukuna’s legs closed and scooted up his thighs until your butt was firmly seated on him. Wrapping an arm around his shoulder, you uncapped the eyeliner. “There, now I can get started.”

Sukuna was in so much shock, he didn’t move. Even when the eyeliner tickled the inner corner of his eye, even when you moved his hands to rest near your lower back so you wouldn’t slide off, even when you did the bottom lashline, he was frozen.

If this is what heaven looked like for him, he would gladly take it and never leave. Your face was so close, he could feel it even when his eyes were closed. The soft skin of your hand held his powdered cheek gently, keeping yourself steady as you drew the lines on his eyes.

“All done.” You whispered. Sukuna opened his eyes and made a noise in the back of his throat; your face was close enough that if he tried to focus too hard he’d go cross eyed. You weren’t paying attention to his reaction at all, too focused on making sure his eyes were even.

The rest of the time went by in a blur. You’d slid off his lap after that, diving right into putting more powders on his cheeks. Swiping thick gloss on his lips is what drew him out of his stupor and into another one as you once again held his chin, swiping the corner of his mouth with your thumb when you were done.

“Sukuna, you look so good!” You said with a slight whine, showing all angles of his face off to the camera before showing him. “You have to promise when you get rich and famous and become a global celebrity that you won’t forget about me.”

“Shut up, you know I won’t.” He said with a smirk, swiping the mirror from you. “(Y/N)...I look fucking hot.” Bursting into laughter, you wiped imaginary sweat off your brow.

“Well I guess I don’t have to ask how you like it!” Patting him on the back, you got up to stretch and check the camera one last time.

“Would you fuck me, ‘cause I’d fuck me.” Sukuna said to himself, striking a few poses in the mirror and for the camera. “Hey, you watching this video you better fucking share this with all your friends. Everyone needs to see how hot I am.”

“We should have ordered you some clothes, turned you into an Instagram baddie!” You teased from behind the camera.

“Please, I don’t need fancy clothes when I’m this sexy.” Running a hand through his hair, Sukuna pointed the mirror at you. “Be honest (Y/N), you wanna date me right now. I look so hot, I bet I’m gonna have thousands of DM’s.” Sukuna’s confidence was the highest it's ever been around you. For some reason, the makeup gave him more assurance.

“Well let me know when to schedule a date with you then, I’d love to grab dinner sometime.”

“I’ll have my assistant pencil you in.” He joked, looking back at himself in the mirror. Sitting back down, you ended the video and made Sukuna wave to the camera. Not turning off the lights you used to film, you made him snap several pictures with you.

“This video was so much fun, Sukuna, thank you!” Rocking back and forth in your seat, you had a demure look while you fiddled with your phone. “And I wasn’t joking about dinner. I really like you, Sukuna.” That made Sukuna stop in his tracks, nearly throwing the mirror down in shock as he turned to look at you.

“Huh?!”

“I-I mean- I mean I like hanging out with you!” Obviously embarrassed, you leaped from your seat and began turning the filming lights off, pointedly avoiding his gaze. Both yours and Sukunas faces were burning with embarrassment, awkwardly not looking at each other.

“(Y/N)...” Sukuna half stood from his chair, forcing himself to move despite how awkward he felt. “I-”

“Let’s wash off that makeup now, I bet it’s uncomfortable.” Keeping your eyes trained on the floor, you went to the door. “I’ll show you what to use in the bathroom.”

The tension in the air was thick after that, and it remained that way for a few days after. Sukuna knew what he heard, he saw how your face looked as you said you liked him, he could hear the sincerity in your voice. But it obviously wasn’t something you were ready to say, as evident as you not texting him as much as you usually did.

When the video went up, Sukuna immediately felt butterflies in his stomach all over again watching it. Reminded of how close you were to him made him ache to have you near him, and seeing you sitting on his lap had another feeling rising in his stomach, warming him up in an embarrassing way.

He patrolled the comments as usual, but there were no mean ones that he could yell at. All of them were screaming about how the video just confirms that the two of you are dating, and surprisingly they weren’t calling out him for looking like he was in love with you.

The comments teased you this time, keen longtime viewers of yours pointing out specific timestamps where you looked embarrassed or looked like you wanted to kiss him. Sukuna checked out every single one, liking the comment for showing him that what you said earlier wasn’t a mistake.

Ever since that day, it seemed like you were promoting on Instagram and Twitter a lot more. Sukuna already had notifications turned on for all your socials and there was a definite uptick in your content posted to those platforms.

There were more sponsored posts and polls posted asking your followers for style advice, and which beauty items they preferred more. Sukuna was happy to see you got an increase in brand deals from the video you did together, a video that had now easily reached five million views and counting. He congratulated you whenever he saw a sponsored post, sending you cute little emojis along with the praise.

All week you had been hinting that there was a big announcement coming, a major event in your life that you were so excited to share with everyone. Sukuna, along with all your other followers, ate up all the crumbs you left throughout the week. Many suspected you were going to go work for a designer label, while others assumed you’d announce a sudden marriage.

(Y/N): Sukuna, check Instagram!

You texted him in the evening on Friday, but he didn’t need the update. He was already on your page when the post was dropped, waiting impatiently for the picture to load.

“A TV show, huh?” As he read the promo photo, he smiled. Appearing on a TV show was a big opportunity for you, one that was sure to lead to many more. Your role wasn’t stated in the photo, but your promo picture was a professional one no doubt taken at a studio.

“Wait, what?” When Sukuna got to the caption, he took a pause. Why were you going on a dating show? He read the words over and over, hoping for a different outcome each time. But there was no denying you’d be going on a dating show.

Checking out the show's page, Sukuna let out a groan. All the male contestants were hot and not even he could deny it. Some had muscles like he did, others were more unconventionally attractive.

Sukuna: you’re going on a dating show?

It took him a while to text you back. In fact, it took nearly thirty minutes for him to text you. Sukuna had gone through all five stages of grief several times, coming back to being in denial over and over again.

Dragging his feet to his kitchen, he grabbed a bottle of wine that one of his rich clients at the gym gifted him. Popping the cork, he collapsed onto his couch and took a long drink from the bottle.

(Y/N): yeah, I’m super nervous!

Sukuna: I bet

Oh, did he fucking bet. He’d gone through all the male contestants' Instagram pages, trying to talk them down in an attempt to lessen the blow that he could potentially lose you to one of them. Why did he have to wait so long to confess to you? Now the chance was gone, possibly forever.

(Y/N): what do you think about the show? I was kind of scared to take the deal

You didn’t want to know how he really felt.

Sukuna: it’s a great opportunity, great for exposure and it’s a lot of money

(Y/N): that’s true!! I’ll have to treat you to dinner with my first TV check!

Just great, a chance for you to gush about whoever you met on the dating show. Taking another long drink from the bottle, Sukuna crumpled even more into his couch. Back were the stages of grief, each emotion washing over him until he mustered up the courage to do something about it.

“Hello?” You answered the phone, confused as to why Sukuna called you instead of replying to your messages.

“(Y/N).” Sukuna said your name firmly, honing in on a spot in the ceiling. Swallowing around a growing lump in his throat, Sukuna forced the next words out. “I like you. I-I really, really like you.”

“What?” He could hear you gasp over the phone.

“I know, what kind of asshole confesses to you when you’re about to go on a TV dating show?” He chuckled, taking a deep breath. “But it’s true. I wanna be your boyfriend, (Y/N). I know it’s too late to back out of the show but-”

“Sukuna-”

“No, let me say this. I know it’s too late to back out, and-”

“Sukuna!”

“And I don’t want to hold you back from finding someone better suited-”

“Sukuna!”

“Better suited for you than me. I’m just a dumb, muscled up chump that-”

“Sukuna I’m a stylist, not a contestant!” You were finally able to get a word in, face flushed from the sudden onslaught of emotions going through you. Sukuna was silent on the other end, mouth hanging open as he processed the words.

“Y-you’re a...a stylist? So you won’t be dating any of them?” He whispered after a few moments, the shock starting to wear off and being replaced with humiliation.

“Yeah, I’ll be on the styling team.” Your voice also dropped to a whisper, the weight of his words beginning to settle down on the both of you.

“Oh god.” Putting the bottle down, Sukuna slapped himself in the forehead. He had never felt like a bigger idiot than in this moment. “Sorry, I’m so sorry, just- just forget it.”

“No.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t want to forget it. I...I want you to be my boyfriend too, Sukuna.” There was a pregnant pause, and you could practically hear Sukuna’s brain working overdrive.

“Let’s go out on a date!” He shouted, pushing himself off the couch and to a shaky stand. “I’m free whenever, let’s go on a date!” The alcohol was definitely affecting him more than he first thought, and Sukuna fell back down onto the couch.

“Really? Okay, how about tomorrow? That’s like the only day with good weather for the rest of the week.”

“I’ll pick you up at noon.”

Sleeping restlessly through the night, Sukuna woke up way earlier than his alarm. Taking an obscene amount of time getting ready, he was still early to your house. Taking a lap around the block, he went to a flower shop and bought you a handful of flowers.

“Hi.” Your voice was soft, almost meek as you entered his car.

“Hey. I got you these.” Handing you the flowers, Sukuna bit his lip nervously.

“That’s so sweet, thank you!” Gently hugging them to your chest, your nerves began to melt away and you smiled, making Sukuna smile as well.

Sukuna once again had you pick the cafe you were going to. This one was in a bustling downtown street, not in the middle of the countryside, and as you two walked down the street there were couples passing you left and right.

Snagging an outdoor seat, Sukuna went inside to order for you. This cafe, unlike the last, actually served coffee and Sukuna was quick to get a large cup of it. Buying a few croissants cutely decorated with various creams, he went back outside.

“Say, you’re really cute, why don’t we sit and chat for a bit?” An unknown man was standing near your table, and Sukuna caught the tail end of his sentence.

“N-no, I’m good.” Your eyes were glued to your lap, obviously uncomfortable with the attention you were receiving.

“Aw, really? A pretty face like yours shouldn’t be all alone!” The man had a sleazy grin on his face, visibly eyeing you up in a salacious manner. “My name is-”

“Baby, who’s this guy?” Sukuna had had enough. Stepping right up to the table, he nearly slammed the tray in his hands down on the table. Your head shot up, relief flashing across your face.

“Who are you?” The man scoffed, curling his lip in disgust.

“I’m their boyfriend. Who the fuck are you?” Puffing up his chest a little bit, Sukuna stared the man down.

“Boyfriend? They didn’t say anything about having a boyfriend.” The man attempted to look at you again, but Sukuna beat him to it and caught your eye instead.

“Geez baby, I know we had that fight before we came but I’m hurt! If I get rid of this creep, will you call me your boyfriend again?” Laying a heavy hand on the man's shoulder, Sukuna gave it a squeeze.

“Y-you’re always gonna be my boyfriend, dummy.”

“That just warms my heart!” Sighing loudly, Sukuna gave the man a not so subtle push away from the table. “Well, you heard ‘em. Get lost, you worthless sack of shit.” Grumbling, the man walked away and Sukuna took his rightful seat next to you.

“Thank you.” Immediately, you latched onto him, squeezing his arm in a tight hug as you pressed your face into his shoulder.

“It’s okay, I’m here.” Wrapping you up more tightly in a hug, Sukuna pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I would have beat him up if you wanted. Men are fucking disgusting.”

“Sukuna, you are a man.” You laughed lightly.

“Exactly my point.” Rubbing a hand on your back, Sukuna picked up one of the croissants. “I hope you like these because I can already tell it’ll be too sweet for me.” You laughed again and sat up, keeping your face close to his.

“I have something sweet for you too, I hope you like it.”

“What is it?” Quirking a brow, Sukuna jumped when you planted your lips on his. The kiss didn’t last long and the taste of your lip balm and feel of your lips was permanently engraved into Sukunas brain.

“There.” Your cheeks were absolutely on fire, shame rolling off of you in waves at having your first kiss in a crowded cafe on a busy day in the city. It wasn’t even a particularly romantic setting, but something spurred you to do it.

“W-what the hell! You can’t just do that!” Sukuna gasped, his own cheeks burning a deep, scalding red. “You gotta warn a guy first!” His dramatics were drawing attention from the other patrons, making the situation even worse.

“Sshh, you’re being too loud!”

“Like I care! Kiss me again, I’m ready this time!” Grabbing you by the shoulders, Sukuna tried to kiss you.

“W-wait, there’s people watching!”

“I don’t give a fuck who’s watching!” Grabbing your chin, Sukuna kissed you much firmer than when you kissed him. It lasted longer as well, bordering on too long for what is accepted in public. “There.” Pulling away slightly out of breath, Sukuna sat back in his seat and took a sip of his coffee.

“You’re so embarrassing.” You whined, hiding your face in your hands and hitting Sukuna with your head.

“All I’m hearing is how great of a boyfriend I am.”

“No you’re not.” You countered, getting wrapped in a side hug by Sukuna.

“It’s debatable.” Picking up the croissant he dropped, Sukuna took a bite. “Hm, this is sweet but not as sweet as that kiss you gave me.”

“Sukuna!”

[waka-chan-out]

Can you write about clueless bokuto going to get you makeup for Christmas. Like he doesn’t know what he’s doing but he’s asking the artists at the store and he doesn’t know how to describe anything but he tried so hard?

“Did you do that on purpose?”

SFW bokuto koutarou x gn!reader

post-timeskip, obviously.

word count: 1.3k

content warning: none! all fluff :)

i’m sorry this took so long to finish! i can’t keep myself from editing and i always want to stay true to the characters. even though it’s short, i wanted to be happy with it :) this request was adorable, so thank you for the christmas cheer!

Holy shit was it a huge store. The walls were lined by makeup and perfume and skincare and scents that made his eyes water. Bokuto was trying. He could do this.

He had watched you do your makeup countless times. He was vaguely familiar with where things went, but he didn’t know the names or what colors looked best.

The first thing on his list: blush. He pulled your old container out of his pocket. He has swiped it off of the counter that morning after you left. It was old and you had been complaining about having to get a new one sometime. The back sticker had completely peeled off, so he wandered a bit until he found other containers that looked similar. It was going well until he realized all of the packaging looked exactly the same. He looked around in a panic.

“Hey, hi. I need some help,” he said, waving as an employee made eye contact with him.

“How can I help you, love?”

“Sorry. I’m shopping for my partner and I can’t figure out which color they use.”

“Is this theirs?” She reached out for the blush compact in his hand. He nodded and let her take it.

“Well, it doesn’t say the color. Would you remember if you saw it?”

“I hope so but I don’t know.”

“That’s alright. We can look together.” She popped it open.

“Do me a favor?” She asked. Bokuto nodded.

“Stick your finger out and rub it like this over what’s left in the container.” She demonstrated.  He did as he was told, holding up his now pink finger with wide eyes. “Now gently swipe it on your wrist.”

He did as he was told and stared down at the color.

“Does this help?” he asked. He couldn’t take his eyes away from the color. It was the same beautiful flushed shade as your cheeks. Gosh, he wanted to run to you and rub his wrist all over your face.

“Yes, it does. It’s called a swatch. Now we can try to find a matching color.”

“Swatch…” he repeated, staring as the employee picked out several different blush shades and set them out on the counter. One by one, she swatched them on his arm, muttering “I think it needs to be warmer toned” or “a little less sparkly.” Bokuto had no idea there were so many shades of pink.

“Here! Does this one look right?” The woman pointed at a swatch directly next to the original one. It was a dim, rosy shade that he could picture perfectly on your face.

“Hey! That’s it. That was like magic. Thank you so much.” He grinned and grabbed the color out of her hands.

“Sir,” she said, cringing a bit but clearly amused. “You have to take a boxed one. The one in your hand is display only.” Bokuto’s mouth opened in an understanding ‘o’ and he carefully pulled one of the same name off the shelf.

“Is this right?” He shoved the side of the box with the shade name in the woman’s face. She smiled and nodded.

“Is there anything else you need?”

Bokuto looked down at his list. You had included the incredibly vague descriptions of “eyeshadow” and “perfume,” with two question marks next to it.

“The stuff that goes on your eyes?” he said, cringing a bit at his ignorance.

“Shadow or liner?” the worker asked.

“Shadow.”

“Do they have a particular brand that they like?”

“I don’t really know.”

“Let’s look together, hon. We’ll find a nice palette for them.”

She led him over to a large display with several different  . . . palettes?

“Do they have this one already?” She handed Bokuto a small rectangle covered in pink velvet. Bokuto’s face screwed up in concentration as he tried to picture your makeup display. You had a different palette that was the same fuzzy texture as this one, but if he remembered right it was a different color.

“I don’t think so.”

“I’d go with this one, then. It’s great quality and a decent price. They’ll love it.” She handed him an unopened box and Bokuto smiled to himself. He had never seen you with pink eyeshadow before but he couldn’t wait. Maybe you could try it out on him.

“Anything else on your list, dear?” she asked. Bokuto nodded and showed it to her. “Ah, lovely. Any particular price range?”

“As long as it’s nice, I don’t mind.”

“Your partner is a lucky individual. How about I show you a few good brands and you choose the scent?”

“Ooh, yes! I want to smell them all.”

The woman chuckled and led him to a display.

“I’ll show you some good ones, I promise.”

Before Bokuto knew it there were at least ten little bottles in front of him and he was alternating between wrists, sniffing back and forth and trying to decide between his favorite two.

“This one smells so familiar, I can’t figure it out. It also has the prettier bottle.” He sniffed the other wrist. “This one is nice too. I think I like the other one? But I’m not sure. What do you think?” He shoved his hands into the worker’s face. She laughed and politely smelled each.

“The first one is really lovely. I love them both, but that seems to be the one you’re drawn to.”

“That’s right. Good idea. I think this one, then. I like it.”

He just hoped you would too.

Bokuto braced himself as you carefully peeled off the red wrapping paper, revealing the small box underneath.

“A box! Thanks, Bo. It’s perfect,” you said with a smile. Bokuto laughed and leaned in to kiss your forehead.

“No, silly. Open it.” You pulled the box apart and your eyes widened as you pulled out each gift. Bokuto’s heart raced.

“Bo, this is my shade!” You held up the little blush box, a stunned smile on your face.

“I did get it right?” Bokuto bounced on the couch and let out a relieved laugh. “Thank goodness. I had to look at so many and wanted to make sure I got it. My entire arm was pink.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Was that the night we thought you had a rash?” He smiled bashfully.

“Maaaybe.”

“Bo!”

“I didn’t want to ruin the surprise! Finish opening your gift.”

“Okay, okay.” You pulled out the eyeshadow next. “Oh my god, Bo, how did you know I liked this brand?”

“I knew you had that other fuzzy one. This is a different color, right? I can take it back if you already have it.”

“No, no, bubs, I have the purple one. You got it exactly.”

“Thank goodness. It has pink in there and I want to see you wear it. You never wear the pink in the other one.”

“Aw, I didn’t know you liked the colors. I’ll definitely wear it. What’s this last one?” You pulled out the perfume and unboxed it, spraying it on your wrist and smelling it. Your eyes closed and you let out a sigh.

“What? Oh god, what’s wrong?”

“Bo,” you said. Your eyes were a little teary. He wrapped his arms around you.

“I’m so sorry, do you hate it? I can take it back.”

“No, babes, it’s perfect. I just. Wow. It smells just like my favorite flower. It’s beautiful.” You hugged him back and smelled your wrist again. “Did you do that on purpose?”

“I thought it smelled familiar. I didn’t even realize. I guess I just knew it smelled right for you.” He chuckled and buried his head against your neck.

You sat there for a moment, wrapped around each other, breathing in each other and the smell of your new perfume. Bokuto didn’t seem to understand it, but he was perfect. He knew you better than you realized. It felt so good to feel seen. Even when you thought nobody noticed your little habits and your favorite things, he was there, taking note in his big dumb brain and making sure he never forgot a thing you liked. He was perfect.

“I love you,” he muttered into your neck. You dug your head against his shoulder and smiled through teary eyes.

“I love you too.”

[writingindulgence]

Painting Nails with Gojo Satoru (x reader)

Pairings: Gojo Satoru x (unspecified-gender) reader

Genre: Good friends with some mutual pining, a bit of fluff and a bit of uncertainty, reader has their mind in the gutter for a split second 

Lmao, how long can someone write about painting nails T.T 2800+ words

When you recently mentioned that you had no free time to refresh your nails due to the influx of odd jobs here and there, you didn’t think that it would lead to your long time friend, Gojo Satoru, sneaking into your room at the Tech with a bag full of nail polish.

He was in the middle of laying them out haphazardly onto the coffee table. Colours ranging from neon bright to the darkest of shades stood before your very own eyes on full display. Their shapes were as varied as the palette. Standard round, rectangle shapes, funky stars and fragile butterflies just to name a few. 

The shock of what was transpiring had yet to register in your mind, a dumbfounded look creeping onto your face.

It wasn’t even the first time that this has occurred. Once in a while you would come back from a mission in another city, ready to fall down onto your bed in the one place that you could call home, only to have this excuse for a friend barge in on your time of relaxation. Sometimes, you didn’t inform anyone when you would be back in the hopes of being left alone but he always seemed to find out the best time to annoy you. When you were tired. 

“What the actual fuck are you doing in my room Gojo-san?”, you drop your tattered bag onto the ground before closing the door. 

The feeling of his incoming whines and guaranteed pout had become something of a sixth sense to you now. You thought that maybe he would grow out of it after his teenage years but the gods weren’t as merciful as you once believed them to be. 

“(Y/n)-channnn, why are you so mean to me? I haven’t done anything for you to call me that”, he dramatically groaned out before flopping onto your bed. 

Glancing at the table, you notice that his sudden movement knocked over some of the bottles.  

You also know what he meant by that. You only ever call him ‘Gojo-san’ when he screws up or when you are both in the presence of his students. 

As much as he likes to tease you in front of important people, you aren’t that unprofessional as to disrespect him as an educator in front of the students that he teaches. The kids already make fun of him and if you were to join in at the same time then you would begin pitying the man. 

You walk over to the sprawled lamp post of a human and indicate with your hand to scoot over before proceeding to throw yourself down beside him. 

“What is this about, Toru-kun?”, your eyes lazily scan over the nail polish. Of course you know what is going on but Gojo Satoru is a man that enjoys being humoured. 

Poor Ijichi-kun ends up as the victim of a lot of his whims when you’re away. Scratch that, even when you are around the unfortunate fellow gets bullied like a kindergartner at a playground.

“So~ I’ve noticed that your nails-,”

“I mentioned it.”

“.. have been looking rather-,”

“I mentioned it.”

“..duller than usual so-”,

“I-”, 

His body flew up from the lying position and a hand suddenly came into your view. Before you could do anything, Gojo clamped it over your mouth, an unseen eye-roll definitely going off under his blindfold. 

He wasn’t really irritated but you took it as a win for all the times he irked you in the past month.

“I NOTICED YOUR NAILS LOOKING DULLER THAN USUAL SO I WENT OUT OF MY HUMBLE WAY TO BUY THESE,” he finally lets you go after finishing what he wanted to say.

The sheets under you have become disheveled, your thrashing around to get away and shut his loud mouth in case Principal Yaga hears brought about no results. There was no rule against being in the same room, you weren’t some silly teenagers and even if you were, the Tech wasn’t that strict anyway, but the thought of his disappointing gaze burning into your soul…

Your thoughts are disrupted when Gojo throws two pillows onto the floor. Knowing that there is no escaping this, you dust down your clothes and gracefully sit down. 

Who knows? This may actually turn out to be relaxing. Even if you’re wrong then spending time with friends is precious, no matter the activity. Especially in this line of work. There is no telling when one might hear the news of their comrades’ death. 

Gojo sits on the other free pillow and smiles. “Any colour pulling you in? If not then I would love to recommend, you know, I’m sort of an expert at this.”

You laugh slightly at his confidence before agreeing to his proposal. As long as it’s not too ugly then you really don’t mind what he ends up picking. 

In fact, you trust his judgement when it comes to fashion. His casual outfits always end up taking your breath away. You’re forever glad when he forces you to go along with him to the shopping district. You know your style and what you’re comfortable with but Gojo presents you with something unique every time.

“Hmmmm...then, what about this one?”, the hand that was under his chin as he was contemplating leaves its position and he quickly picks up a (f/c) nail polish. 

The container is cute too, a glass cat face. Though how did he figure out what colour this was with that blindfold? Only Gojo knows. 

You reach out for the item but he leans back and pulls it to his chest. Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion. 

“(Y/n), (Y/n), (Y/n)...,” he creates an X with his arms before continuing, “Bzzzt! Did you really think I would be so rude as to leave you alone with that tedious job? Who do you take me for?”. 

He grasps the fabric where his heart is located and fakely sniffles. Oh, so he wants to paint them for you. Figuring out that you may as well indulge in a little care, you extend your hand for him to hold. 

Gojo twists the nail brush open and dips it into the bottle a few times. His tongue is poking out as he tests how much of the liquid is on the brush. You don’t even question how he will paint your nails without seeing properly. Understanding his infinite capabilities has become second nature to you. 

Instead, you focus on the feeling of his hand when it grasps yours. 

It’s bigger and somewhat rougher, though not uncomfortable. Really, it feels secure to have around your own.

Jerking back at your line of thinking, you can feel the heat growing on your face by the second. Calm down there, no need to get ahead of yourself. You’ve held hands many times in the city before so that you don’t get ‘lost’, how is this any different?

“Hey now!,” Gojo grips your hand more firmly than before. 

“Sorry, sorry. I had an itch,” you come up with an excuse and double down when you scratch your shoulder with a free hand. 

He doesn’t say anything in return, there are none of his usual comebacks. That’s suspicious, he always needs to have the last word in no matter what. 

Instead he applies the first stroke of nail polish on one of your nails. 

His movements are steady, no shaking, and he doesn’t miss any spots. The process is...pleasant, being attended to by another. 

He moves on to your second finger, repeating the action from the previous one, applying just as much attention. 

Now that you are sitting still, barely breathing as you look on, his hold has become almost airy. Unless you focused purely on the skin to skin contact, it was as if your hand was levitating. 

Ah, technically he could be using ‘Infinity’ and keeping your hand away but...it made you feel weirdly unhappy. Your mouth tugged down in dissatisfaction unconsciously.

At the same moment, Gojo grasped the next finger on the list, the sudden feeling coming as a surprise. You barely held in the shocked gasp, tingles travelling up your arm. 

He didn’t say anything and continued the procedure. 

You peeked at his face to see if you could read him but there was nothing at all to go off on. No smile, smirk, pout or frown. 

Sheer concentration. 

It wasn’t unwelcome, in fact it was peaceful without the usual banter. And it wasn’t unbearably serious either. If you had to put a word on it then it felt...intimate.‘Wow, what the hell? Chill, he’s only a friend and this is simple nail painting’.

The clock in your room ticked continuously until eventually your fingernails were all finished. It took extra long because Gojo insisted that the proper way to do it was to paint two layers. So in the end you had to sit through another few minutes that honestly felt like an eternity. 

You hoped that you hadn't sweated with how warm it had gotten on your end.

“Alright! It’s your turn (Y/n)-chan,” he made finger guns and pointed them at your bewildered expression. 

“It isn’t fair if only you get this spa worthy treatment, no?”.

“Satoru, I think you overestimate my ability to paint nails. Of course, I do a fantastic job on myself but I am hopeless when it comes to others,” you explain. 

You may have over exaggerated a bit but if this goes on then your thoughts will enter dangerous territory, not that they haven’t already.

Distractions aren’t helpful when you are a jujutsu sorcerer, particularly in the romantic scene. 

Have you daydreamed about such scenarios? Yes. 

Would you like to experience them? Definitely. 

However, what you want and what you can have are at odds with each other.

“Don’t be a bore, come on, come on,” he sticks out his own hand before thinking up something and reaching towards his blindfold. “Let’s make it a challenge. I had such a difficult time so you have to suffer too”. 

He frees his eyesight and stands up. You’re about to follow but he shakes his head and kneels behind you. 

The smooth fabric covers your eyes and the pressure as he tightens the blindfold rubs against the back of your head. This feels like the beginning of a dirty situation-

A resounding smack travels in the enclosed room as you slap your cheeks simultaneously. This isn’t the time nor place.

“I’m accepting my resolve,” you throw out before Gojo can ask you why you hit yourself in the face. 

You hear him shuffle back to the pillow as well as glass tapping against glass. A nail polish bottle is shoved into your unprepared self. “I’m in your hands now,” he laughs stupidly to himself at his own pun. You can’t help cracking a small smile too.

Blindly, you fiddle around in front of you, wanting to start this. Clicking your tongue, you’re about to give out but Gojo finally decides to stop being a prick and gives you his hand. His shakes from laughter make themselves known but you ignore him. 

Unscrewing the bottle cap, you get to work. 

Only, you have to feel around for his fingernail. It’s impossible to hit the target without searching around first. 

You become overwhelmingly aware of the close proximity yet again and your heart skips a beat. The fact that you can’t see anything makes it far worse as your sense of touch becomes more sensitive. Your shaking hand dabs the point where you think the nail polish goes and you begin painting. 

Gojo’s amusement must have stopped too since you don’t hear him chuckling anymore. Is he looking at you? Or is he looking at his poor skin whenever you miss the fingernail? He doesn’t have his blindfold on so his eyes have to be focused on something. 

But what?

The silence becomes unmanageable and the constant skin against skin friction twists your insides. Is it just you? Or does he also think the same way?

“You know, you have pretty eyes. If you start an Instagram page with photos of them then you’ll get a following in no time,” you offhandedly mention to start a conversation. Knowing Gojo he’ll take the compliment, tease you a bit and move on. You shift around in the pillow before progressing onto the other hand, having speedrun the first, before he starts talking.

“That’s not a bad idea. You can do the eyeshadow and we can make some money,” he hums in agreement. The sound of extra cash nearly makes you drool but then a realisation hits you, like a truck an isekai protagonist. If you were to do the eyeshadow then you will no doubt have to be very close to his face. No way.

“On second thought, I don’t think we have the time,” you laugh it off. 

His disagreement comes soon after. 

“Haaaaaaah?! Then why did you mention it?”. His muscles tense, about to pull back to cross his arms but he remembers that you’re in the middle of painting his nails. 

After that, you both fall silent again. 

In the end, you get through the last finger and close the nail polish bottle. You tried your best, having taken your time despite it making you feel a certain way whenever you had to touch him longer than is necessary. 

You get up and reach out to unhook the blindfold but larger hands stop you in your tracks from behind. They pull yours away and drop them at your sides. 

“Allow the amazing gentleman, Gojo Satoru,” he gently takes it off as you stand unmoving. 

When light from the window hits your face, you scrunch your eyelids shut, waiting to adjust to the bright atmosphere. A hand patting down your hair makes them shoot open and you turn around to complain. 

Whatever you were going to say gets caught in your throat as you look up into his light blue eyes. His expression is serene, free of any worries but his eyes seem to be trying to speak a thousand words. 

They too look composed but you get the feeling that he’s trying to communicate something to you.

Swallowing, you clench your hand (conscious of the recently dry nail polish), and place it over your chest. “Satoru..um,” you pause, not fully comprehending what you want to say, or rather, how you want to say it.

Your eyes widen when you notice his hand traveling towards yours. 

Clumsily spinning around, you head for the pillows and shake off the dust that accumulated on them. 

“Thanks for today. I’ll have a nap, since I’m still tired from the flight.” 

You show your gratitude but hide the words your heart wanted to really express. 

You don’t turn around to see his expression. The sound of his blindfold going over his eyes is what you hear first. Then, 

“Don’t worry your sleepy head over it! Sweet dreams, (Y/n)”.

The door opens and closes gently behind you. 

Once you’re sure that he is far down the hallway, you throw yourself onto your bed, put the pillow over your face and scream. Feeling a little foolish, you stop and look over your nails. 

He really did a great job.

-Next Day-

The sun is shining brightly therefore there is no better time to take a walk. Which is why you aren’t surprised when you stumble upon Sukuna’s vessel, Itadori Yuuji. 

The teenager has a tub of ice cream with him. Maybe you should get some too? Gojo is bound to have some in his mini freezer.

“Ah! Hello, (L/n)-san,” the boy waves his hand in greeting and jogs over. 

“Itadori-kun, is it alright for you to be outside like this?,” you ask with concern. 

There are only a few people that know about his current state of being alive. When you heard that he died, you came as fast as possible to comfort Gojo. 

“It’s fine! Everyone is gone and Ijichi-san is on the lookout at the front gate. He’s meant to give me a ring you see”. He looks down.

“Oh! You’ve got some nice nails there,” he points out as he takes a bite out of the dessert. “You match with Gojo-sensei,” he adds after a second.

You pause your appreciative smile at his compliment. Excuse me? 

“Excuse me? Match?,” you prod him to elaborate.

The teenager scratches his cheek. 

“Ehh, but he said the plan was to match all along. Though they don't exactly look the same”.

Your eyes tear up in embarrassment at the turn of events. You’re matching nails? You thought for definite that he would wash them off when he gets back to his room. Not only that but putting the blindfold over your eyes must have been his sly way of making sure that you don't notice they're the same colour. 

Itadori shakes his hands in front of him before bowing. “I-I’m sorry (L/n)-san! I did not mean to insult the way you painted Gojo-sensei’s nails. They are a bit tactless compared to yours but that’s okay,” he apologises profusely, mistaking the root of your shame.

‘That dumbass Gojo Satoru’

[slutsofren]

Danger Days Chapter 6: Look Alive, Sunshine

summary: the three of you find more questions than answers and the start of a whole new fuckin' problem im so so so sorry

warnings: tw for gore, bloodshed, hurt/little comfort, angst, gunfight, etc

word count: 4,166 she’s a big bitch lol

read on ao3 here / masterlist

“Let’s look around,” Ellie said dejectedly.

Joel walked off on his own, giving the three of you some space. Ellie went through a door and walked down the hall to her right, following it.

The halls and rooms here were void of your previous allies, not a single soul seemed to be here but you could still make out traces of equipment and feel a semblance of sentimentality from your memories. Damned memories tickling at the edge of your mind.

You picked up some papers and read them quickly, hearing Ellie somewhere in another room asking if anybody is there and Joel off to your right in some other room shuffling around. There was still quite a bit of medical paperwork on the hopes of a cure, of somebody like Ellie coming by.

Unfortunately the research was only bits and pieces but you could catch an idea of a project involving infected monkeys. Suddenly you were startled as Ellie shouted, “Yoo-hoo! Fireflies! Cure for mankind over here! Anyone?”

Before you could tell her to stop, Joel reprimanded her. “Let’s keep it down until we figure out what’s going on.”

You looked over your shoulder and saw him savenging around, picking up remnants of med kits, gears, even forgotten bullets and tools. Idly you think hJoel has the right idea and go off searching around too, pocketing the rest of the papers to finish reading them later.

The three of you continue looking quietly until coming to the conclusion there’s not much here.

“You sure this is where they’d be,” Joel asks you.

“Positive. That room over there was my uncle’s office,” you pointed towards an open door. “They must have pushed back further into the building.”

Ellie was the first to walk down a hall, finding it leading across to a landing with elevators and stairs. The man stayed behind for a beat, eyeing you. Likely second-guessing your motioves. Eventually he turned and walked away, following the teen. At the center of it all were large black containers and she kneeled in front of an open one and began to read, Joel joining her in flipping through the papers.

“Nothing useful,” Ellie states, throwing the papers down a bit more harshly than necessary.

“Ain’t nothin’ here but a bunch of medical mumbo-jumbo.”

You reach for some of the books and a binder and flip through them quickly too, noting some words about failed specimens and subjects not surviving an experiment until ultimately being harvested. Whatever they were doing wasn’t going well and they seemed to be feeling the weight of morality on their shoulders. There was an entry logged by some Doctor Anderson about feeling conflicted about torturing humans and questioning if it was worth it.

Shutting the binder quickly and throwing it in your backpack to finish reading it later, your mental dialog cut short as Ellie sighed heavily, “I don’t get it.”

“Looks like they all just packed up and left in a hurry, unless you got a better idea?”

Before you could answer, a loud metallic bang hit from the floor above the three of you. Ellie and Joel looked at each other before she said a bit grimly, “Maybe not all of ‘em left.”

“Stay close,” Joel commanded.

The stairs up to the third floor was behind Ellie and she went up first as you finished zipping up your backpack and tossing it on.

The floor above was more or less the same, open to the central garden in the middle of the building, objects in disarray, out of use vending machines that you’re pretty positive you used to pry open to steal sodas from. All this, but no Fireflies.

Joel went through a door on the left, probably scavenging for more things to find whereas you and Ellie went the scenic route on the outside corridor.

“What do you think happened?”

“Considering they had enough time to pack up research,” you pointed at some boxes, “they must have left willingly.” You shuffled through some more papers, looking for a clue. “But the question is, why leave?”

Ellie walked inside a door and followed the path of some wires that lead to an old flood light, “There are no bodies. That’s good, right?”

“If we find out where they went,” came Joel’s voice from behind you two.

You followed Ellie down the hall, peering into rooms and broken windows to your left. Suddenly there was another noise coming from behind and when the three of you turned, the very same flood light you’d all passed knocked over, lying prone on the ground.

“Shit,” Joel whispered.

“Um… So it’s probably clickers, right?”

You flashed Ellie a look, “Not the time.”

“Right.”

You all held your breath for a few moments, trying to listen until Joel broke the silence, answering Ellie. “No. Clickers don’t hide.”

He looked at you, giving you a once-over, likely weighing the possibility of you betraying him. You responded in kind expression, silently telling him to give whatever plot he has in mind a try.

Wary old bastard, you thought. As if you’d pull a stunt this far into your mission together, even after he began to act lukewarm to your presence.

You took the lead down a tarp covered hall, not really remembering this area much. They probably did push up to these higher levels judging by all the lab equipment left behind.

Digging in your memory, you recalled everybody keeping to the first and second floors in this building to make bailouts quicker. The militia men were on the rooftops to keep an eye out for any stray hunters or other unfriendlies.

Whatever happened on these floors were not from when you kept around.

Your trio came to a corner room that looked as if it were being used as an x-ray exam area, there were large black television-like screens on the wall that had some mangled imagery on them. Whatever it was put a shudder through you. Along the back wall, Joel found an x-ray abandoned on the counter and picked it up, when you and Ellie looked over his shoulder it looked like a skull with fungal growth on it. Like somebody who was infected for quite some time.

“Gross.” Ellie pretended to gag when she saw the photo.

Joel tucked the x-ray away and went on to look around, you followed by looking in the cabinets for alcohol disinfectant. “They had to have left something behind,” you mumbled to yourself as you began to feel the inklings of irritation slip into your bones.

Joel went to another door, this time leading to some room to the right but as he opened it, a screech came and he jumped, “Jesus!”

You drew your pistol from your hip and pointed it outwards, pushing Ellie behind you until you could hear chittering.

Fuckin’ monkeys , you think as you put your weapon down, faintly seeing three monkeys jump out a window on the opposite side of the room.

Ellie walks next to Joel, peeking into the lab he was stepping into and he leans towards her, “Well, at least it aint clickers.”

“Yeah. No Fireflies either,” she steps into the room. She throws her arms open wide, “Well, maybe in all that research they turned into fucking monkeys.”

You try to stifle a laugh but fail, a light giggle leaves your lips. “At least they’re not flying monkeys.”

“Just keep searching, we'll find something,” Joel says, shooting you a pointed look about your banter with Ellie.

The room looked like it used to be a science lab, naturally. The left and back side of the room were lined with metal cages, likely the ones that originally held the monkeys. Otherwise, there were large black countertop tables around, probably where students listened to their lecture and did hands-on assignments. Joel approached one of the tables in the middle, picking up what looked to be a recorder and pressed play.

A male voice clicked on. There were sounds of shuffling and screeches from the monkeys in the background. “That’s four palettes of lab equipment all packed up and ready to go. Now - big question is what do we do with all you guys. They say the tainted batch needs to be put down. You know what I say? I say screw that. Who made a bigger sacrifice than you, right? If anyone deserves to run free out there it’s-. Hey, easy! Agh. Shit. Oh, no. It bit me. Oh my god,” his breath gets heavy and the recorder stops abruptly.

Holy fuck, they were purposefully infecting animals , you think in horror.

“I’m sure glad we didn’t mess with them monkeys,” Joel says. “Did you know?”

You look at him wide-eyed and slack jawed. “Not a fuckin’ clue. I know my uncle was running blood tests and cell regrowth experiments but nothing like that.”

“He didn’t say where they went,” Ellie said, eyeing the two of you. The tension was minorly palpable, whatever small victory you gained in the camradiery field was now likely gone between Joel and you.

“I know, let’s keep looking,” Joel responded.

You fixed your composure and tried to reassure her, “We’ll find them.”

Your small trio followed the room into another, searching that one but finding nothing of interest in the drawers or on the tables. Not even another research binder. There was another door to the right and Joel approached it, trying to push his way in but there was a green metal object keeping it closed. He looked to you, “Hey, come help me.”

Stepping beside him, the two of you pushed against the door, throwing yourselves against it repeatedly to open it until it gave way. Joel gave you a tense nod, a silent thanks as he walked in first, Ellie close on his heels.

It wasn’t until you entered the room did you see it- the body. It looked to have been dead for quite a while, the bones were very obvious but still held together by the clothes wrapped around them. The person was sitting at a desk, facing the window, where Joel loomed over it as if it didn’t bother him and he picked up what looked to be another recorder.

Click. “If you’re looking for the Fireflies, they’ve all left,” a voice said grimly. You recognized it as the same one from earlier.

Ellie looked up from a binder she was flipping through, “Yeah, no shit.”

“I’m dead,” the man continued, “Or I will be soon. Got me some time to reflect.” Joel fast forwards through the tape, “...been years that felt like we were…”

He fast forwards again, “...fucking thing was a giant waste of ti-...”

And again, “...not gonna do this anymore…”

Ellie sighs while you pace, wishing to listen to the tape in more detail later. “Come on,” Joel grumbles as he fast forwards it yet again.

“...looking for the others, they’ve all returned to Saint Mary’s Hospital in Salt Lake City. You’ll find them there. Still trying to save the world. Good luck with that.”

Ellie sounding mildly hopeful looks to both of you, “Do either of you know where that is?”

“I know the city,” he nods before turning to catch you chewing on your fingernails in thought. “You?”

“I- I remember Marlene mentioning it to Regan on occasion but they talked about it like it was abandoned. I’ve never been there.”

“Is it far,” Ellie asked.

“It ain’t close. I mean on horseback-,” he stops abruptly, something catching his attention out the window.

“What?”

Out of the corner of your eye you see it too. Flashlights peeking through the windows. Just as Ellie asked if they were Fireflies, the light shines on them as they stood by the window and Joel pushed her down, ordering her and you to hit the deck just as whoever was on the other end of that light took a shot at you all, shattering the window.

“Shit,” you shout, ducking down to avoid the coming onslaught of gunfire.

Ellie looked at you, “Who the fuck are these guys?”

He looked at you angrily, “Did you lure them here? Is this some kind of trap?”

“Fuck you, Joel Miller! I didn’t.”

He stared you down. “Fine, It don’t matter,” Joel argued, “We know where to go. Let’s get the hell outta here.” He jerked his chin at you and spit, “Lead the way.”

You wiped the initial shock from your system and went into mission-mode, keeping yourself calm and alert. They followed you out of the room, the three of you crouching to avoid being spotted by the new threat through the windows.

Making your way through the anteroom to the office then through the lab as silently and rapidly as possible while crouching. It wasn’t until you reached the x-ray exam room when you were hit in the chin with something hard, knocking you down, dizzy.

Your mind and vision were in a haze but you managed to catch the vague shape of Joel rush somebody, likely the person who knocked you over, through the newly forming tears in your eyes. Fuck , you thought, your face hurting like a bitch.

Ellie yelled something as she went to help Joel, apparently getting the bright idea to take Joel’s machete from his backpack and swinging it wildly at the stranger.

As they fought the man, you shook your head and rose on your haunches, still dizzy. You could make out the faint shape of a second man running up to attack but through your shifting vision, saw three of him. It didn’t stop you from raising one of your dual guns from your thigh holster, taking aim. Breathing in, slowly breathing out, you took the shot when the three men formed a single one.

The loud bang reverberated through the halls, momentarily distracting you from the brawl happening somewhere to your right but soon that silenced.

“What the fuck was that,” you asked nobody in paricular.

“Don’t look like Fireflies to me,” Joel mumbled in reply, hinting you must have been telling the truth.

Together, you all walked down the tarp covered hall from earlier but saw four shapes run past some red smoke on the only way out of the building, likely trying to cut you all off. “Stay back,” Joel said as he flung one of his makeshift bombs at the intruders. After a moment, it went off and sickly screams were either cut short or continued onto a deadly moan.

Each of you hid behind random turned over tables, guns drawn.

Although six of these strangers were down, it seemed there were more as another came in through the right side, taking a shot at Ellie. Joel responded in kind and shot him square in the neck, the blood splattering a nearby wall.

You followed suit and took aim at somebody ducking below a desk much like you. Your aim was a little off because of that damned kick to the head but you got the guy nonetheless. It was messier than you’d like, the newly forming headache was making things much more difficult.

Together with Joel, you took two more men down until you reached the small lobby where the stairs were only to find another flare emitting red smoke. “What the hell,” you wondered aloud.

“Probably to tell the others how to get to where we were, building is like a maze.”

With that, you and Joel look off, making sure to keep Ellie behind you as your group traversed down the steps, finding another flare. Joel heard them before you and raised his gun. You followed as two more men rounded the corner, both being taken down by the bullets you both expelled into their bodies.

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears at the adrenaline rushing through your veins, no matter how much you remained focused at the task at hand. You took a breath in an attempt to ground yourself, following Joel closely behind as he was about to round the same corner, stepping over the two dead bodies when you grabbed Joel, pulling him back as a bullet whizzed by. “Fuckin’ hell,” he gasped.

Taking to the wall you peered out and quickly aimed, letting another bullet rain free. It clashed into the wall behind your target, narrowly missing as the man ducked behind the poor choice of the glass railing. Joel put his hand on your waist, pulling you close as he leaned back around taking his chance on the guy. He must have made it count because soon you heard a soft thud of the body collapsing.

If you weren’t so preoccupied trying to stay alive, you might have noticed Joel kept his large hand on you for a few moments longer than necessary.

Joel left the relative safety of the second floor lobby, nearly running to the exit. You grabbed onto Ellie’s hand as you shoved your nearly empty gun into it’s holster on your thigh, following him. He came to the closed door that led to the next area of classrooms to get you all down to the ground floor but just as he went to open it, it banged open from the inside starling all of you. The force was so strong that it pushed Joel to the glass railing behind him, his body teetering over the edge.

“Joel!”

You dropped Ellie’s hand as you ran to him, trying to get the other man off of him as he choked your companion. By the force and chaos, the rail gave way underneath Joel. As he fell, he pulled the stranger with him.

A scream surely left you as you watched in horror as the two men fell to the ground but it grew louder when you noticed a sickening metal bar poking it’s way through Joel’s stomach, staining red in the sunlight. Beside him, the attacker lay dead in a mangled heap of limbs, his neck at an unnatural angle.

You began to shuffle onto your stomach to drop the distance from the balcony walkway to the ground floor, Ellie close behind you copying your maneuver. Together, you both landed on the ground awkwardly and unbalanced. It was so unbelievably impossible to stay focused as you watched Joel writhe in pain from the impalement as loud banging seemed to invade your senses.

Ellie jumped straight to Joel asking in a rushed panic, “What do you want me to do?”

You couldn’t hear what he said when the double doors burst open, two men with a baseball bat and machete appearing. You grabbed both of your guns, unleashing lead into them with a little more force than necessary.

When you turned back around, you saw Ellie trying to lift Joel. “Don’t!”

You ran to him and dropped to your knees, removing your backpack and began to scrounge around for clean gauze. “You’re only going to create more damage, you old bastard. Stay still.”

With the gauze in hand, you motioned for Ellie to put as much pressure as she could on the frontside of the wound. You tried your best not to jolt him around so much as you tried to assess the entry wound on his back, only to find it was buried in cement beneath him. He groaned, calling out a string of curse words.

“Stop fuckin’ movin’, Joel.”

“Wouldn’t need to if you had good bedside manners. Goddamned brat.”

His small jab at you could have made you cry if you weren’t so invested in keeping the old man alive and with no other alternative to removing the rebar safely from him, you had no choice but to lift him away from it.

You reached into your backpack once more and grabbed a strap of leather you usually kept close by, mostly to fiddle with, and shoved it into his mouth. “To keep you from biting off your own tongue,” you explained while adjusting your position to be directly behind his upper body to prepare and stanche the blood flow from his back. “Although I think we could all use the peace and quiet.”

Whatever comeback he had was cut off as he yelled, muted by the bit. While he was distracted by your words, you had nodded to Ellie to lift Joel straight up. He quickly fell to his knees as he tried to stand, probably ready to pass out from the pain and you padded the entry wound with gauze, holding it tightly.

His words came out weak as he told Ellie, “Just get to the damn horses.”

She looked at you and you nodded, removing one hand to give her a gun. “Do whatever it takes, kiddo.”

She walked in front of you both, her arms held high with the gun in her hand, ready to take on anybody else. She led you both to a classroom and knocked over some wood panels that barely covered a broken window.

“Do you think you can handle it,” you asked him.

He didn’t answer, instead choosing to throw his body over the edge, finding himself on his back once more. “Come on, move,” Ellie demanded of him as you jumped through the window after them. Just as she got him sitting up against a table, another man burst through the door across the classroom, gun ready to fire.

Seeing as you were getting rather low on your own bullets, you reached for Joel’s revolver and threw yourself out from behind the lab table, firing two shots and hitting him in the torso.

“Come on, we gotta get you outta here,” you told him. One look at Ellie and you saw her hands and sweater covered in Joel’s blood, you likely looked the same. Brushing those thoughts away, you and her flanked him on either side, trying to walk him out.

“No, I’m okay,” he moaned. Trying to push you both off him.

“Like shit,” Ellie threw back, “You’re not okay, Joel. Now come on! Fucking walk!”

You kept your free hand up, gun drawn, and Ellie matched your pose to his left. “Down this hall,” you directed, “To the left is the main entrance, we can leave through there.”

Don’t die on me now, Joel Miller , you silently wished, hoped, prayed.

Joel began to sway between you two, his feet were failing beneath him. His body in your arms grew heavier and sluggish with each step making it harder to walk straight. You really tried to keep the gauze at his back secure against the wound but it was hard to do that while also trying to keep him balanced. As you were distracted by assessing the man, he moaned out, “Up.”

You and Ellie looked up the stairs that were against the wall in the lobby and saw two men coming towards you all, “There!”

Ellie raised her gun first, taking shots at random and you did too. It was difficult to do while doing everything possible to not drop Joel but somehow, they too, fell dead along the stairs. On his other side, the teen poked at him out of breath, “I swear to god, I get you out of this, you’re so singing for me.”

You decide to jump in on the joke, trying to lighten the mood, “I think you mean ‘for us’, Ellie.”

Joel coughed a laugh, “You wish.”

Slowly the front entrance inched closer. Ellie left to pry it open and let you two through and Joel let go of you, shoving his body and burst through the secondary doors. He lost his balance and fell down the steps only to see as some other hooded figure with his hands on Whiskey and Callus’ reigns.

Before the straggler could even draw a weapon, you and Ellie took shots at him. Joel’s revolver clicked, notifying it was out, just as the man let go of the horses.

You ran to Joel, lifting him up to his feet. He groaned in pain, “I know, I’m sorry. Just a little longer, alright, cowboy?”

He gave you an odd look as Ellie appeared and she asked him, “Can you get on?”

Whether or not he can is entirely different than if he will, you thought. You were proven right as he jumped up on Whiskey, not even noticing he was getting on the wrong horse.

“Ellie, get on Callus,” you told her as you also swung your leg over Whiskey, saddling in front of Joel. “As for you, don’t bleed all over my goddamn horse. Hold tight.”

A part of you was worried that he didn’t even bother to jab, you kicked Whiskey’s underbelly and Joel’s body slouched against your back, passing out. The fact the warmth that seeped through your body was likely his blood was gnawing against the corners of your mind but you shooed the thoughts away. Together with Ellie, you filed out of the university as fast as you could, not looking back.

[izumi-fanclub]

A3! Translation: Chikage R Card “Emerald Palette” [Spice is the best]

On this episode of “How will Chikage convince director out on a date this time?” White Day edition

TV “Good morning.

We have an upcoming special White Day program for today.”

Chikage

(That reminds me, it must be that time of year already.)

TV

“We’ll be introducing you all to a variety of famous chocolate brands~!”

“Everyone appreciates expensive chocolate after all.”

“But nowadays, chocolates are getting more and more diverse――...”

Taichi

Is that how it is~ I gotta write this info down!

Kazunari

The packaging on those chocos look so chic!

Juza

Pralines, bonbons....... they all look tasty.

Muku

This’ll help me choose what to give back to director-san!

Taichi

There’s a lot more than just chocolate~! I’m already worrying bout all these choices...!

Itaru

What about you, senpai? What’s your game plan in returning the favor to director-san?

Chikage

I’m thinking maybe something with spices or curry.

Tsuzuru

Still as consistent as ever.

Muku

It’s nice to know someone’s tastes from your common interests!

Kazunari

Chika-chon's got the upperhand, I’m jealous~.

Chikage

(…But it’s kind of the same thing every year.)

(It’s good to mix things up every now and then.....)

Boss

Good work. Utsuki, prepare a summary of what we’ve discussed at the meeting.

Chikage

Understood.

Colleague A

Giving return gifts for White Day is something we gotta worry about every year, isn’t it~?

Colleague B

You’re screwed if you don’t have a plan by now.

Colleague A

It’s gonna be a big deal if you forget something like this....

Chikage

(White Day’s the talk of the town over here too...)

Colleague A

Ah, Utsuki-san, good work today.

Colleague B

Speaking of, what will your return gift be, Utsuki-san?

Some high-end accessories?

Colleague A

He probably rented out a cruise ship for dinner!

Colleague B

No, no, I feel like he bought some luxury cosmetics!

Colleague A

It’s cooler to reserve a mini theater...

Chikage

….. Do I really give off that kind of vibe?

Colleague A

Well, Utsuki-san you’ve been abroad for a long time, I figured you’d get something grand as a return gift.

Chikage

They don’t have White Day culture over there, so I got no plans.

Colleague B

Aah, figures.

Chikage

(Besides, high-end brands and private reservations would be a turn off to director-san...)

Colleague C

Excuse me. Utsuki-san, may I have a word with you?

Chikage

?

(Part 2)

Izumi

Come on in.

Chikage

Do you have a minute?

Izumi

Chikage-san? What’s the matter?

Chikage

I’d like to talk about spices with director-san.

Izumi

Sounds good. Then by all means.

Chikage

Pardon the intrusion.

Actually, I was asked to give my opinion on an upcoming spice store by someone in charge of another department.

Izumi

Heh, I’d love to go if it’s possible!

Chikage

I’ve been wondering about something though.

Izumi

And that is?

Chikage

The store’s located at a popular marketplace that attracts a lot of female customers.

It’s no surprise that people like us wouldn’t hesitate to go in, but I’m sure women would be the minority in that store, right?

Izumi

It’s true that you don’t usually go in there to do some window shopping......

(But if it were me, I’d enter in a heartbeat....)

Chikage

That’s why considering the circumstances, I’d like to ask a woman’s view on how to attract more of the female demographic.

Izumi

I see......

That’s right, hold on a sec.

Chikage

…...?

A bottle?

Izumi

I figured it’d be a good container for spices. It looked so cute that I fell in love at first sight.

Wouldn’t it look colorful and pretty if you put spices in it and line it up on a shelf?

Chikage

I get it. Spices come in unusual shapes and bright colors, after all.

Maybe I can arrange them for the interior design.

Izumi

All that matters to me is that I can use it for curry.

But it's good for aesthetic purposes, I think it’ll catch women’s interest once they walk into the store.

Chikage

I guess the first thing to do is to make it look good. Star anise and pink pepper are pretty eye-catching.

Izumi

That’d be good! And to top it off, we should――...

---

Chikage

Thank you. You’ve been a great help.

Izumi

You’re welcome. I had fun!

Chikage

By the way,

What are you planning to put in that new container you bought?

Izumi

I don’t know yet. Maybe I’ll put in something nice since I’m going out of my way to fill it up.

Chikage

Is that so......

Izumi

Woah.... I’m in a heaven of spices...!

Chikage

It’s such a spectacle to see them lined up on the shelves like this.

Izumi

Thanks for taking the time to invite me to the pre-opening!

Chikage

The person in charge of this place also wanted to thank director-san for the wonderful idea.

Izumi

I’m glad I could help you.

The colorful spices contrast well against the white walls! I’m sure it’d attract a lot of female customers.

Chikage

That’s right. They also got some rare spices here, so go check them out.

Izumi

Sure!

Why don’t we add some of this to curry? It’d go well with this one too!

Chikage

Sounds great to me.

Izumi

Ah, they even have vanilla here.

Chikage

Oh, that reminds me, there was vanilla in the butter chicken curry you made the other day too.

Izumi

You even noticed that!?

Chikage

….....

Izumi

….? What is it?

Chikage

Nothing, I just thought you sound like you’re having fun.

Izumi

Fufu, you look like you’re having fun too, Chikage-san.

Chikage

…... Really? Must be director-san's fault and not the spices.

Izumi

Eh?

Chikage

Does this spark some joy in you?

Izumi

Yeah, a whole lot actually!

Chikage

...... I knew you'd enjoy this a lot.

Hey Director-san. Can I choose spices to put in your container as my thank you?

Izumi

Are you sure?

Chikage

Of course.

(…... I hope you enjoy White Day.)

Story Clear!

[tsuisou-no-despair]

Higurashi TEN (Role Swap AU) - 34 Random Facts

Well, I'm slightly stuck with the question arcs, so instead I'm just going to write up and throw out a whole bundle of random facts about the world, its characters, and things that have or could happen. Hopefully this will lead to something clicking into place for me, and hopefully you'll like it, too.

Kei, Reina, and Mion still use a bat, nata, and taser, respectively, as their main weapons, though Mion's been forbidden from using the taser by Oryou. Hanyuu uses the ritual hoe and swords in about equal measure. Miyoko uses whatever's on hand to frightening effect.

Shion thrives at St. Lucia; however, she is pulled out of the school by her family after Oryou decides that Mion's twin would be better utilized if she was right on hand...

Miyoko does the Joseph Joestar "your next line is..." thing, which almost always works like a charm. (It doesn't work on Satoko or Bernkastel, but the former plays along when she's not in the black outfit)

Hanyuu's horns aren't initially broken, but by the end of the series, they have their signature crack.

Tomitake is a much more common sight in Hinamizawa than he was in the original universe, being a resident of Okinomiya who frequently visits. He's also quite well-liked, mostly because he's there to fix just about anything that breaks.

Rumiko was the original user of Rena's signature nata, as well as the person who first converted the van in the dump into a hiding place.

Satoko finds the contents of the Saiguiden fascinating but ultimately disappointing; she expected something more directly tied to Hinamizawa Syndrome's origins.

Irie almost always manages to get clear of Hinamizawa before Emergency Procedure #3105 is executed; however, he's usually dead in under 24 hours due to his escape catching Tokyo's attention.

Both Ooishi and Akasaka are hated by the Sonozaki family but the former much more so, to the point where Ooishi schedules his visits to Okinomiya when the Sonozakis will be looking elsewhere, such as on festival nights.

Rina targets Kei's dad in the loops where she doesn't die. Kei's mom does not take it well - to the point where she goes L5, in some cases.

Mion's "feelings" for Satoshi are primarily a result of Satoshi being just that nice and caring and good-hearted. It helps that she's enamored with a saintly image of him that's only grown more pure since his absence.

When Miyoko bothers to start telling people about how she's lost in time loops, their reactions are mostly in the vein of "oh, that explains so much".

Bernkastel can be heard by people who are deep in the throes of Hinamizawa Syndrome; naturally, she uses this to fuck with people for kicks.

Okonogi takes the role of the clinic's head after Satoko dies/disappears. He's regarded exclusively with suspicion - if he wasn't only filling the role until the GHD triggers, he'd probably get run out of town within a month.

Rumiko regularly made Miyoko curry after learning that Teppei and Tamae were denying her food; this led to Rumiko taking her curry very seriously because it represented the only "acceptable" way for her to help Miyoko.

Officially, Tatsuyoshi Sonozaki and his wife (Naeko) are Mion and Shion's parents. In reality, Akane is their mother, and whether or not Tatsuyoshi is the father is strictly a matter between him and Akane.

All of the locations from the original universe are present and more or less unchanged, along with a few new "sets" such as Akasaka's apartment.

Satoko has an alternate version of her "Tokyo" outfit that includes a mask that resembles an inverted Eye of Providence. She wears this when acting in Hinamizawa after her death, claiming that she needs to hide her identity due to being known in the village. (Okonogi thinks that doesn't matter in the slightest and that Satoko is trying too hard to be "cool", and he isn't wrong... except that it's managed to keep Miyoko from realizing who it is throughout the loops)

Beyond mahjong, Akasaka, Satoshi, Irie and Tomitake were fast friends. Their name for the quartet is the "Soul Brothers" - thankfully, it's a more serious (and infinitely less horny-focused) group than in arcs like (ugh) Batsukowashi-hen. (Kei still becomes an honorary Soul Brother in some arcs, though)

While she's reasonably familiar with a gun and a bow, Shion's real weapon is her contacts: her stay at St. Lucia (and Rika-in-Gou levels of popularity while there) means she has a slew of St. Lucia-ites (with powerful fathers) who would bend over backward for her.

Akane and Satoko are the two most skilled individual fighters in Higurashi TEN - who wins in a fight between the two is generally decided by who screws up first, but this is usually Akane getting blindsided by a trap unless she's warned. (They fight in more fragments than you'd expect - Akane Kasai is the most dangerous person in Hinamizawa and Satoko knows it.)

Miyoko starts her loops at the same point every time - the morning after the festival in 1982. This is mostly to dodge the abuse from Tamae - the fact that people assume her changed personality is because she's escaped an abusive home is icing on the cake.

The official reason for the Clinic "studying" Hanyuu was that they were researching the effects of her horns' growth pressing on her brain and monitoring the brain tumor-like symptoms (hearing voices, delusions of being Oyashiro-sama reborn, etc.) that it caused; this was all a fabrication hiding the research done on Hanyuu as Queen Carrier. Satoshi was disgusted by this facade and eventually told the Furudes that Hanyuu's brain was fine, leading to them pulling Hanyuu out (and Satoko murdering them as a result).

Irie occasionally mediates the Games Club's punishment games, sometimes getting dragged into it himself. He's a stalwart protector defender of the young club members' honor, making whatever sacrifices he has to in order to make sure that they're not forced into perverted situations or outfits.

Rumiko may or may not have had feelings for Mion, which Mion subconsciously returned; Mion's quietly put two and two together in the months following her disappearance, and it's had a palpable effect on her relationship with Reina.

Ooishi lives in Kakiuchi City and is a part of its police department, and he's not the only former Hinamizawa resident on its force - there's a bright young detective named Natsumi Kimiyoshi who I've heard interesting stories about, though I don't know much about her...

While he's still capable of being the "Magician of Words", Kei's charisma is heavily tempered by the restrained, somewhat cold wall he's put up around his emotions for "everyone's own good".

After all that looping, Miyoko's trauma response to Teppei moving back in and forcing himself to be her caretaker is anger moreso than shutting down. More than a few loops have ended with Teppei killing her after she was too insolent (or too creepy) for him to put up with.

Yukie was a reporter who was extremely critical of the anti-dam protests, especially after the kidnapping occurred. At least some of the antipathy towards Akasaka is due to being Yukie's husband.

When the seeds of distrust aren't sown, Reina's empathy is one of her most powerful tools, making her able to stand up to just about anyone in Hinamizawa and reach out a hand to them. (Sometimes this leads to getting a baseball bat to the head, but hey, she tried.)

Hanyuu can hear Bernkastel at lower levels of Hinamizawa Syndrome than anyone else in the village, and seems to be cognizant of her presence even when she's at L1/L2. The exact details of Hanyuu and Bern's rapport are known only to them.

Miyoko and Hanyuu are closer to each other than they are to anyone else, but there's still a big ugly wall between them due to Hanyuu's quasi-divinity butting up against Miyoko's hatred of any and all gods. Tearing that wall down is an important part of Miyoko's character development.

Irie had (has?) Satoshi's blessing to try and win Satoko's heart; according to Satoshi, Satoko's not entirely against the idea of a relationship. Satoshi also made sure that Irie didn't cross any lines when going after her; after Satoshi disappeared, Irie ceased his attempts until Satoko herself encouraged him.

Everyone is wearing different outfits - the new ones are more or less the same pieces of clothing as the original "position" but with the color palette and general feel of the character filling the slot. For example, Reina's casual outfit starts as Keiichi's - a vest, undershirt, and shorts (and no hat) - but then is adjusted to fit Rena's style and is given a white, light blue, and purple palette. My attempts at mocking up Reina and Mion's designs are below.

[deiitaelric]

just another bkdk idea

where Katsuki went to Izuku’s room to get back his book and Izuku didn't want to open the door.

"Kacchan, just w-wait a minute!"

"Just give me my fucking book, Deku! I need to do my homework and it's your fault for grabbing it in the first place"

"I thought it was mine!" Was heard through the door, followed by some noises.

"Whatever, just give it back! Look, I don't have time to be waiting here for your ass to move, ok?" and he just made his way into the other’s room. "I'm grabbing it myself-"

Katsuki stopped dead at the door frame, hand still on the knob. Izuku looked at him from inside the room; panic visible in his eyes. His green, big eyes... surrounded by... makeup?

Katsuki just kept looking at him, mouth slightly open, unable to say anything.

Izuku didn’t move a single muscle, petrified. The cleansing wipe he was using fell to the ground in what seemed to be an eternity. His tiny mouth was half painted, half smudged, opened in shock.

Katsuki felt impossible to get his eyes out of Izuku. Dark and wide in shock as they were. He moved his mouth to say something, whatever, but nothing came out. Before Katsuki could force himself to do anything, Izuku grabbed the book, placed it over Katsuki’s chest and pushed him out of his room, closing the door and locking it.

___

Katsuki was in the common room. The TV on playing some random show Katsuki wasn’t paying attention to. When he heard someone approaching, his hands started sweating and he hid them in his pockets. He had spent the last two afternoons there to give Deku the chance to go to talk to him.

“What's up?” It wasn’t him. Katsuki released some of the tension of his shoulders but didn’t give an answer. "Hey, you good? You seem grumpier than usual" Ochaco pointed out, sitting on the couch beside him.

“It’s nothing”

“Come on, don’t do this. I’m your bestie, just spill it out”

Katsuki side-eyed her and sighed. “Fine” He moved uncomfortably, feeling the weight of her stare. "I stormed into Deku's room and... Fuck. I think I screwed up"

"You found out about the makeup" Katsuki looked up at her and then took a look around. There wasn't anyone.

"You knew about that?" He whisper-yelled.

"I gave him some products" She shrugged, throwing herself back on the couch, diverting her view towards the TV. Katsuki looked at her with a glare of 'don't make me ask again'. "I was the one who told him to try it because I thought he would look cute. And he does. And he liked it so he borrowed some"

"Are you the only one who knows?"

"I think so"

"And he told you I caught him?" She only nodded. "Was he... Hm. How upset was he?"

"Well..."

"Fuck"

"Hey, but... What do you think about all this?"

"What I-? The fuck is whit that question?"

"I mean, you're upset too. Is because you saw-"

"I don't fucking care about that, okay?" Katsuki ran a hand through his hair and locked it on the back of his neck. "What did he say?"

"He was worried about you telling-"

"I wouldn't to that, what the fuck? I won't tell anyone!"

"Not that, jerk, just listen! He knows you, come on! He was worried about your friendship, about you telling him he disgust you or something"

He shook his head and then dropped it. “Fuck, I always hurt him, huh?"

"What? That's not true. Just talk to him and that's it"

"No. It is true! When I was part of his life, I hurt him. When I tried to stay away from him, I hurt him. And now that I'm trying to be part of his life again... I'm fucking hurting him again!"

"Don’t be so hard on yourself. Look. If you care, and I know you do, just stop complaining and do something about it"

“Easier said than done”

“Come on, just… Talk to him as you’re doing with me. I know he couldn’t disgust you whatever he might do or anything but-”

“Don’t act all smarty, round face, you-”

“I, what, Katsuki? Look, we’re not in first grade anymore, I know you, and… I never wanted to stick my nose in your business but-”

“Then just fucking don’t. Just shut up, will you?” He ran a hand through his hair, looking away. What a fucking smarty-ass of a best friend he had, hah?

“Okay. Just let me say one thing. He’s not gonna take the first step, he thinks he's gonna lose you so… Do something yourself”

“What?! That’s bullshit!” He pushed himself to his feet, feeling really annoyed. Lose him for-? That fucking nerd…

“Hey, where are you going?!” He didn’t answer, because he didn’t know where he was going himself.

___

Katsuki filled his lungs with all the air he could, trying to steady his hands, and knock on the door. Silence. His crimson eyes looked at the floor, where the light of the room picked below the door. He knocked again and sighed at the silence.

“It’s… me. I know you’re there, come on” His eyes caught a movement in the light but the door remained closed. “I fucking get it, I shouldn’t have stormed into your room like that. But… Fuck, I…” He ran a hand through his hair. Fuck, he wasn’t good at talking. And he said so. “Look, you know talking is not my thing, so I just wanted to bring you something to make peace” The light moved again, the shadow closer to the door now. “Can you open the door?”

More silence.

“Okay. I’ll just… let it here. Take it later, okay?” And he was about to drop the bag in front of the door and leave when the door opened slightly. Izuku looked at him with a curious and shy look in his eyes.

“Hi” Katsuki tried to stay soft.

“Hi” Izuku answered in something barely higher than a whisper.

“I bought you something” The blonde raised the bag but didn’t give it to him.

“I know, I heard you. Do you want…?” He asked as he opened the door a little more. Katsuki stepped inside and sat on the edge of the bed. “What is it?” Izuku asked after closing the door. He kept standing a few feet apart, looking at his hands, playing with his fingers in that anxious tic of his.

Katsuki handed the bag towards him and Izuku took it, curiosity filling his eyes.

“Wha-?” He dug a hand inside the bag, moving around the contents to look at all that were in there. “I…” His green eyes watered and he covered his mouth with a hand.

“You hate it that much you're even crying?” Joked Katsuki. And smiled when he saw Izuku shaking his head and smiling shyly at him.

“I just… I don’t know what to say. I like it so much”

“I’m glad I chose it all waterproof, jeez, what a crybaby you are” He teased with a smirk on his face, feeling relieved at the good reaction.

“You chose it yourself?” Izuku asked, ceasing to admire his new eye shadow palette to look at him in disbelief.

“Of course. Round face told me you borrow hers and these things shouldn’t be shared, dumbass. Plus, I bet you didn’t even have the right colors to suit you” Izuku opened his mouth to reply something but the blonde interrupted him. “One more thing,” digging inside his pockets he found what he was looking for and handed it to the other. “This is the best thing you could have” Izuku left the bag with the eyeshadows, lipsticks and brushes over the bed and took the pen. It was a black eyeliner. “It’s waterproof too. It’s the brand I use behind the mask of my hero costume”

Izuku opened it to look at the tiny tip. He made a little line on the back of his hand to try it and smiled. He sat on the edge of the bed and his expression turned more serious. “I-I don’t... Why?”

“I don’t know, I… I wanted to say sorry and… Fuck, I wanted you to know you don’t disgust me or any bullshit you might have thought”

Izuku’s cheeks turned pink and a few tears made their way out of the corner of his eyes. He rubbed them with the back of his hand. “Well, thanks for the gifts and… for telling me. I know it’s not easy for you to… talk”

“It’s not fucking easy, but… Whatever. Look” Katsuki took one of the eyeshadow palettes of the bag. “This shit suits you. I know it’s not easy being oneself in front of the world but fuck them, you know? You shouldn't be feeling bad because you like this” He shook the palette to emphasize. “And… Fuck, it suits you. Round face said she thought you would look cute and, damn it, she was right. Cute and fucking pretty. I just lost my fucking speech when I saw you wearing it” He laughed in a mixed of disbelief and embarrassment for what he just said out loud. It was hard for him to talk, but right there he seemed to feel unable to stop.

“You-You thought I was... pretty?”

Katsuki laughed again and shook his head. “Like it was something new! I mean- Wait!” The panic settled in him for a moment, but seeing the hard blush on Izuku’s face made him laugh again. ”Fuck, I said it, hah?” They shared a silence before erupting into embarrassed laughs.

“Yeah, you said it”

“Well, whatever, you know? You should know you’re always pretty, with or without this” He raised the palette again and then threw it into the bag again. “I was just trying to say that you should wear it if it make you happy”

“It makes me happy, but, you know, I don’t want people making fun of me, not again”

“Fuck. Them. I’ll break the knees of whatever asshole who dare to say something bad about it”

Izuku laughed and brushed his tears once again.

“You can’t do that!”

“Oh, well, I dare them to try” Izuku laughed louder and glanced at him with a tender look.

“Thanks”

“You said that already”

“I know. But I’m really glad you’re supporting me. You know you mean a lot to me”

“We’re being really cheesy today, huh?”

“I’m sorry. But it’s true, so” Izuku shrugged and looked at his feet, starting to bounce them.

“Don’t be. You… too. To me. I mean, you’re… important. To me”

“Are you trying to say something?” Izuku asked, side-eyeing him with a smirk.

“Fucker” Katsuki muttered, feeling his cheeks burning. What a loser, Katsuki, great, he thought. Izuku giggled, looking at his playing feet again. Katsuki cleared his throat. “You good, then?”

“I’m more than good, you know? I think it was worth it, after all. I mean- I never expected that someone caughing me wearing makeup would do my crush to tell me I’m pretty”

Katsuki remained quiet, the words not being caught yet.

“Who!?”

“You, idiot” Laughed Izuku. “I’m just so happy you came to talk to me… and you even brought me makeup. I thought it was a good time to tell you. I was gonna tell you eventually so, why not now?” He shrugged. “And it doesn’t mean anything. I like that we’re friends now and I’m happy with that, I just wanted to be honest, you know?”

The silence was interrupted when Katsuki started to rummage in the bag. He placed a few products on Izuku’s lap and got up, making the other to look up at him with a confused face.

“Put that on,” The blonde pointed at the products, and then at the closet “and change your clothes. I’m going to change too” He marched towards the door without any more explanation.

“Wait! What? For what?”

“I’m taking you out on a date to answer you my way” Katsuki said just before closing the door, leaving a burning-cheek and flustered Izuku behind.

The end.

[raviliuz]

"Here comes the sun" Blaise Zabini x Theodore Nott

Muggle, retro au

@lifesucksandiwanttobeamarauder I finally translate that fanfiction, I hope you like it 🥺

The dark-skinned boy has tried to sit still from three hours already. It is incredibly hard for him, because of his amazing hyperactivity. In all honesty, sitting here as a model doesn't count to his dreams or favourites activities but he couldn't deny to Theodore's asks.

Just because of that — his bloody weakness for the older boy — he must stick up there and pose to Theodore's new painting. Blaise perfectly knows that person on that work of art won't be even similar to him. But it will be beautiful, perfect as everything that has been made by gifted hands of Theodore Nott.

There's music, playing quietly at the background, played on a gramophone, restored by Blaise himself. He gifted it to his friend as a birthday present two years ago on an incredibly warm and short night, 22th of June.

He has so many memories with that slight, passionate boy.

"Theo," he says suddenly, breaking the silence. He sounds like a dissatisfied kitten and when he doesn't notice any reaction, he repeats meowing "Theo, I'm bored."

The other boy finally pays his attention to Blaise, not his reflection on painting, which is created on a canvas (too small in Theo's opinion).

"Blaise, you really can't stand it for a while more?" Theodore asks and there is a nuance of desperation and melancholy in his voice, "I want to end it."

And Blaise has already known, he loses again. He won't be able to deny his friend the pleasure that results from looking at the painting — finished, after hours of working.

"I'll stand it, Theo" he sighs and in his mind adds 'always for you'. At this moment all he can do is begging and praying that Theodore is not able to read minds, just like some characters in their favourites comics.

"Nah, Blaise" slight boy says suddenly and leaves his paint palette and set of brushes on the cupboard, promising himself that he will wash it carefully within a few minutes when paints won't be already dry "I know you don't want to."

"It's not like that" Zabini starts to explaining himself chaotically because he doesn't want hurt Theodore's feelings, "I love watching your painting and you while you're painting. And I love that you have a passion and you're so talented. I just... It's May Day and we are sitting in your room..."

"It's alright, Blaise" Theodore interrupts his with the most beautiful, in Zabini's opinion, smile — that carefree, happy and only a little faraway one.

"We should do something and bring Hope with us to take many photos and place them in our albums with dumb yet cute captions" Theo proposes with a light laugh.

The younger, but taller, better built and more mature, of boys, stands up and brushes off invisible pollen from clothes. He reaches his hand to Theodore to help him stand up.

"Wanna go?" he proposes and even if Theo doesn't know where he agrees without a single question.

It doesn't matter where they go, it will be awesome as always if Blaise is with him.

He catches Hope and puts it on his neck. Theo loves his polaroid camera with whole his heart, even if it isn't the newest and all the better photos were made by Blaise.

Blaise is still holding Theodore's hand in his (definitely larger and rougher), like he doesn't care about rubs of paints in many different colours on Theo's hand and now, also on Blaise's one.

He pulls his friends outside and enters the garage like he is in his own house. Theodore knows what he means without words and grabs his bicycle with a big smile on his slim face.

Meanwhile, Blaise grabs his skateboard, which, only in the form of rebellion against sentiment, he did not give a name. But he perfectly knows that by his skateboard, people could see a different side of his personality, which he doesn't show often — bloody sentimentalist who loves very clichéd books or movies and constantly remembering beautiful moments, and it doesn't matter if that happens a year ago or two hours ago.

The skateboard has its best years far behind its. The picture which was printed on the underside of 'his love' (although, of course, incomparable to that of the boy just standing next to him) has almost completely faded and crumbled, peeling paint seems not so good, to put it mildly, but in Blaise's opinion, it adds the special character and charm to his skateboard. Every scratch and every cooked screw tell a story and Blaise thinks it definitely better than new skateboard — probably glamorous but without its own character.

Blaise isn't similar to Theo, not it that topic. He has never had boxes filled with various craps, which refer to many different events and happenings. He doesn't have special notebooks with tickets, a diary or millions of notes with quick sketches, created under the influence of a sudden flow of wen. He doesn't keep every notes and message on scraps of papers, which have been hand down on lessons, in hope that the teacher wouldn't see that. In first, even having a photo album was strange for Blaise. It shows, that he likes looking back at past and that feeling, which sometimes accompanies you right before falling asleep, when you remind yourself one of those pleasant situations from childhood, isn't foreign for him. It was all he was trying to defend himself against, but only for a time.

For a time when on his way stood that quite frail and nerdy boy. Theodore showed him being sentiment isn't something bad just as singing songs out loud in public places. As compensation, Blaise showed him the magic of comics and all these beautiful, charming in their area, which he discovered while taking a walk daily. Blaise pulled Theodore out of his room and dragged him away from the easel to lead him everywhere he can.

"To our place?" Theodore asks and gets on his a little too small, colourful bike. The seat creaks quietly under his mass but none of the boys pays any attention to this.

"Exactly, now ride, my carriage" Blaise screams and catches up on Theo's seat so the movement of the bicycle can drag him.

"Pff, flax" Nott giggles and Blaise find it as the most sonorous, melodic sound in the whole world.

They ride slowly through all that musty hole, also known as Torquay, or — their home. The road even if it's really old and it remembers when they as children drew chalk on a street, is not in a bad condition. A worse fate befell the road signs — some of them are smeared with sprays, and some are knocked off the ground, due to a car accident or a group of probably drunk but still strong young people.

There are many houses near the road. They are quite poor and definitely not as modern as houses in the capital. At some time, before he started taking daily walks, Blaise dreamed about living in London. Or rather, to be able to tell others that he lives in London. It's another thing which distinguishes him from Theodore — the older boy sees beauty everywhere, in everything and in everybody. Blaise envied him with this skill, for him the world has been boring or just ugly and people have been cruel sometimes.

The sun is warming their backs when they slowly ride on a well-known path. They pass Mrs Shermik, so out of courtesy from four meters away from her, they shout to the old woman joyful 'Good morning'. As they turn into a lane, which is fortunately dry as it hasn't rained much lately, Theo starts humming under his breath.

"Hey Jude, don't make it bad" he looks at his friend (nearly losing control of his bike) and Blaise quickly understands what he means.

Blaise joins to his singing and adds next line:

"Take a sad song and make it better".

Someday Blaise would have worried. He was worried about what people would think, he was afraid someone would hear them. But not now. Now he doesn't care when the words flowing from the depths of memory, and when the song ends, he starts another, definitely his favourite — "Blackbird". Neither of the boys has a perfect voice, singing is definitely not their hidden talent, but that doesn't matter. And that is wonderful, isn't it?

Here Blaise can no longer skate further — the ground is too uneven, even ploughed by the tires of wheelbarrows and carts of people from the neighbouring village. The dark-skinned man rejects Theo's offer to simply get his bike's rack and chooses to run next to the boy. The basketball team and two trainings a week are finally coming in handy — thanks to this, his condition is really good and he doesn't gasp like an old man with asthma after twenty meters run. Theodore, noticing how well his best friend is doing, accelerates, forcing Zabini to run, which he accepts with a groan. Nevertheless, he catches up with the older boy and promises himself that as soon as they get there, he will get his revenge.

After five more minutes, they are a destination of their travel. The place they describe as "their", although they are well aware that they are not the only people who come here, is exactly as they remember it — beautiful.

It was Blaise who discovered them during one of his walks over three years ago. He perfectly remembered how it happened.

That day he was trying to find a rather fast but shallow brook, which he remembered from his childhood. Before Draco's move to London, they told Draco's parents that they were going to the field, but in fact, they went to the brook and walked back and forth on a tree that had fallen over the river. He remembered just as well how Draco's mother, on her way to the store, noticed they were not on the field, prompting a search. When their parents found them by the brook — wet but in unusually good moods, they were already too worried to be upset with them.

After searching for more than an hour (during which he definitely fulfilled the daily, maybe even a week, step norm, but he didn't care) he found a place from his memories, although it was difficult to recognize its. The brook had dried up completely, leaving only a faint riverbed and tree roots washed out of the ground, but the place has definitely retained its charm.

Theo drops the bicycle, leaning it hurriedly against one of the roots, and lays down on the grass, staring at the almost cloudless sky, hidden only by tree branches. Blaise, slightly out of breath, rests his hands on his knees and stays like this for a moment. When his breath normalized he comes closer to Theodore. There is a snap and a Polaroid camera gracefully named Hope spits out a photo in which the image hasn't shown up yet. Theo enthusiastically grabs a small piece of paper and starts waving it so fast that it is about to reach orbital velocity. After a while, the picture clears up the silhouette of a younger boy, who was about to lie down next to his friend. Blaise looks at the photo and asks smiling, even though he already knows the answer:

"For your or my album?"

"Of course mine," Theodore replies quickly, grinning happily, "Why do you need your own photos? They will be much more useful to me."

The dark-skinned boy can't help but messes Theodore's hair in one move of his hand. However, Theo is not annoyed by that, he reacts to it like a cat, moving closer and silently demanding further caresses, which the younger one does willingly.

They are sitting like that (or rather, Blaise is sitting and Theo's half lying on him) till the sunset. There is a flower crown on Blaise's head, made by Theo with field flowers collected by him. And of course, Theodore took a photo of Blaise in his work of art.

It's getting dark. Butterflies, which were flying around them flew away and gave way for beautiful moths and fireflies. Theodore stands up energetically and starts jumping on protruding trees' roots, chasing insects to take a photo of them.

"Theo, please be careful," Blaise says attentively but the only response is 'don't worry' screamed by Nott.

Blaise unwillingly starts remembering his childhood. Times, when he wasn't Theodore's friend and all that connected them, was the same neighbourhood, chalk and short-term relationship of their parents. Then they found that as a stupid and loathsome. Nowadays, at their seventeen's, just as weird. But they weren't friends. After all, Blaise was friends with Draco and the teacher in primary had repeated that it's better to have fewer friends but true friends. So Blaise fraternizes with Malfoy till he moved to London.

It's not that now Blaise finds it as a mistake or holds any grudge with Draco. But nowadays he thinks that it is not good to withdraw from others.

When Draco had left and moved to London, Blaise had thought they now he stayed alone but on that moment, Theodore slowly crept into his life. Nott sat next to Blaise on school basketball pitch and started reminding happy moments from times when Draco lived in Torquey.

And later he showed his painting to Blaise and dark-skinned boy couldn't believe someone his age could do something that beautiful. A week later Blaise sat down with him in the canteen and sometime later also on most of the lessons so he could distract him from learning to read their favourites comics.

Now, Blaise would imagine his life without his always laughing and only sometimes a little faraway friend.

His thoughts are interrupted by a quiet scream.

"Ouch!"

Blaise, worried, stands up imminently and run through Theo. He is curled up in a fetal position between roods of the biggest tree. Zabini hugs him tightly and Theodore accepts that willing, cuddling to his chest while holds back tears.

"Ah, Theo" Blaise whispers, still cuddling the boy in his arms, "I asked you to be careful."

"I'm sorry, Blaise" he answers, sniffing.

"Don't apologize to me, silly" Blaise couldn't stop himself from nuzzling his friend's cheek.

"But you are worrying now and you warned me that I might get hurt..."

"Shhhh" Zabini interrupts him and places his fingers on Theo's mouth to shushes him "I always worrying about you, no matter if you get hurt or not" he admits truthfully and after a few seconds of silence adds "Please, stop crying.

He stops hugging Theodore, although he wants to do it forever. Blaise squats in from of him and gently grabs his friend's head. He wipes away tears, flowing slowly on fairy (although all that time, spends under the sunlight) skin.

He wants to not cry because of sadness or pain, wants him not to have reasons for a cry.

He wants him to be always happy, even if that meant that Blaise wouldn't be on his side.

Wants, wants, wants.

But the world isn't always beautiful, even if Theodore thinks so. Sometimes the world is cruel, ugly or just totally boring. The same about people who live in it.

Do it's really important to find your refuge. A place, a person or a hobby, which will be like an escape from all evils in that world.

Blaise thought that his escape is comics. Reading them has dragged him into the world of superheroes where he could use his imagination and think about meaningless things for hours such as what superpower would he choose (flying, of course). Besides that, the world in comics is just easier. It isn't hard to differentiate who is good and who's bad. Good people fight with bad people, that's all. The Justice League cares about Gotham and saves innocent people from Joker, Deadshot or Darkseid. In the real world, it would be an unsolvable matter with billions different threads and complications so even the best detectives wouldn't be able to decide who is guilty.

Comics world is just easier.

Lately, Blaise has got to understand that the whole beauty in that world is locked in its confusions, problems and ambiguities. Because the world is beautiful, even if sometimes it's cruel or ugly.

And the one who made him understand that is his only real refuge — Theodore Nott.

He is the one who makes reading comics even better.

He is the one with who Blaise could do anything and it would be incredibly good.

He is the one with who Blaise wants to talk about 'good old times' and makes new memories to remember.

He is the one with who Blaise wants to stay forever.

Theodore Nott is the one who Blaise bestow that hot and unique feeling which, no matter what since says, comes from the heart.

And that feeling, now makes him do something, he has been dreaming about for that long. Blaise gently and unsurely grabs the head of the person, who since a year isn't only a friend for him. He delicately raises Theo's head a bit upper to look him straight into his eyes. Their lips touch slowly and gently. Both of them don't feel so confident with what's going on but they will worry about that later. Now, Blaise doesn't have the time and desire to thinks about the consequences. Not now, when he feels the structure of soft lips of his love.

When the dark-skinned boy doesn't notice any objections from the older boy, he let himself do a light, carefully move with his lips. He doesn't want to scared Theodore, knowing how delicate and artsy person he is. He would ever forgive himself hurting Theo.

If he only knew how long Theodore was waiting for it and how much he enjoys that kiss, even if Blaise's lips are rough and chapped.

Blaise gently moves away and hangs his head down, looking at too long grass. He's afraid of seeing Theodore's reaction for what he has done because he's afraid of rejection and ending that important relationship.

However, Theo, likes he doesn't see his friend insecure, giggles lightly and grabs the younger boy cheeks, turning his face to him.

"Oh, finally. How long might I wait?" Theo says with a delightful smile.

"Really. You... Me..." Blaise mutters like he doesn't know what he wants to say.

"Yeah, silly" Theo chucked and hits an end of Blaise's nose with his "You're definitely my favourite person in that universe. And every other, alternative universe too."

Blaise, still can't believe what's happening, hugs his boy and kisses him quickly. The kiss is one hundred per cent cute and totally not sultry. Because feelings as sultry and desire don't fit Theodore, even in an alternative universe where Bruce Wayne become the Devastator instead of Batman. It just does not fit.

"Yeah, and you're my fav person."

They sit in silence for a while, but it's nothing wrong. The silent can be calming and comfortable, it can say more than every word in the world.

The air is getting cooler and owls' chirps become more ominous, so finally, Blaise breaks the silence and says:

"Theo" mentioned boy turns to him and glance at Zabini, "Is your knee still hurting?"

"It's not that bad" Theo shrugs but Blaise quickly understands that it's not good either, "But can you ride the bicycle? I'll drive on its carrier."

"But what with my skateboard?" Blaise asks inconvenience.

"I'll carry it, please" Zabini's only answer is a sigh but not the irritated one. He doesn't know what would Theo had to do to irritate him.

"Alright, but please, be careful."

Blaise raises Theo's bicycle from the ground and helps the boy to climb up to the luggage carrier and then he carefully sits on its seat. Theodore holds Blaise's skateboard (which he has named against his will — Faith) with one hand and the other one is embraced around Blaise's stomach so Theo can stably stay on the carrier. Well, maybe not only because of that.

"To me?" Blaise proposes and slowly leaves their place.

Theodore automatically nods but then he understands that Blaise can't see him so he quickly says 'yes' some times.

Boys are leaving, slowly and without unnecessary haste, but that moment is different than every previous one, they have spent here. Now, they're leaving their place not as just friends.

From Theodore Nott's album:

"4th of May, 1984 —

My favourite day to remember"

[itwillbeall-dwight]

trials in error

danny "jed olsen" johnson | the ghost face/felix richter; fluff and angst; canon-typical violence; enemies to fwb to lovers to enemies lmao; 5677 words

a/n: did i finish two fics in the same day? yes i did. i’ve had this done since one in the morning but didn’t want to post it them bc no one would see it by the time it was flushed out of the tag bc tumblr hates fic writers for real actually.

my friend booker is to blame for this. they mentioned this pair to me offhandedly but then i turned around and made this, and basically learned 2 things. 1) writing danny is fun, and 2) i have. a lot of feelings. about them.

while i have a couple of long pieces to finish, requests are still open, so if you liked this and would like smthn written, feel free to shoot me an ask!

likes < reblogs, any comments in the tags are appreciated

ao3 mirror in the reblogs!

Preview: “Tell you what.” He folded his arms over the top of the generator, looking the man in the face as he rested the side of his head against his forearm. “You’re still a noob, and I can’t be having anything fun with that. I’ll give you, hm… 10 seconds to run and hide, phone a friend, you know… not die, but after that, you’re all mine. Sound good?” The blonde remained silent, blinking at him in bewilderment. That was as good of an answer as any. “Alright. 10-” “Ah, wait, but what about-” “-9-” He didn’t say anything after that, dropping the wires in his hands and taking off into a sprint, stumbling as he stood to his full height - and oh boy, was he a tall guy - and turned a corner of old cars. Danny chuckled, standing up to rest his ass against the side of the gen, flipping his knife in his hand as he kept counting down. “8… 7… 6-5-4-3-2-1- ok, here we go.”

Another day, another trial. As the fog cleared from his vision, the Ghostface flipped his small knife in his hand, feeling the silent breeze whistle through the tendrils on his uniform. The Autohaven Wreckers was as sorry of a sight as it always was, but one that he’d grown quite accustomed to use as his playground. From the sight of the old garage, he could almost pick out memories of all the times he’d scared the pants off of the poor survivors, which he took more than enough pleasure in doing. Danny looked around, still absently flipping his knife in his hand as he formulated a plan, taking a brief moment to watch the ever-present moonlight glint off of the freshly cleaned blade before he looked up once more, a slow grin forming behind the mask as the game began.

 Poor Meg thought he was stupid, thinking she’d lost him at a simple enough loop around a pile of tires, all up until he pulled her off of her generator with a cackle (“screw you, creep” she said as she slammed her fists into the back of his shoulder - changed her tune real quick after he slid a hook into hers). Nea didn’t hesitate in giving him the runaround, powering a generator in his face and slamming a locker door into him for good measure. Danny knew the girl would throw a palette at him if she had the chance - she was the most fun to play with. But he soon lost her, so soon after catching her, but it was that detective asshole that ruined their fun, as he’d shone a damn flashlight in his eyes while he had Nea on his shoulder, finally, enough for her to wiggle free and run off again. And by the time his vision had cleared, the both of them had gone. Danny growled - as much as he enjoyed fun, it was only when he was winning was it any good.

 It was while he was stalking around the battered old killer shack looking for the bastard that he saw him for the first time. Blonde hair, broad shoulders, and a fancy suit that just screamed rich, with a touch of “please tear me off or splatter me in blood, both sound great”. A man he didn’t recognize, sat on a generator, eyes darting around as he worked the best he could with shaking hands, clearly on edge about being left on his own to work. Whatever annoyance he had in him melted like hot wax, as he approached, slowly, knowing this guy would be a wonderful victim to mess with. The killer’s fingers curled around the edge of the wall as he watched the man, the way he swallowed and sighed, muttering to himself in reassurance in a tongue that sounded familiar to him, too quiet to tell. The generator got louder and louder, its mechanisms and inner parts in tune as the man worked his magic, almost letting himself smile in triumph as he grabbed another wire.

“Hey there, handsome.”

A voice from behind his neck, raspy and deep, caused him to jump, a spark sending the generator into smoke as he turned, face going white as he pushed his back against the wall.

Oh, he was right. He was going to be fun, all right. Danny chuckled. “Oh, sorry. Did I scare you? Tend to do that. It’s in my… nature.”

The man swallowed, glancing around for any kind of help, seeming to find none as his attention turned back to the killed, speaking in a low, rich voice, though it shook from fear. “Don’t you have… things, to be stabbing?”

“Why, is that an invitation?” He laughed again, leaning up against the generator and crossing one leg over the other. “Nah, I’m just kiddin’. Ain’t it enough to get to know the new neighbours? Haven’t seen you around before, pretty boy. They smuggled you in, huh?”

“I… suppose.”

He hummed, tapping the blade of his knife against the metal of his knife, the clanging making the survivor jump. Oh, bless him - well and truly, it was a mistake for him to get caught up here… but a happy mistake, to be sure. “Got a name?”

“Huh?”

“Like I said, I like to know the neighbours, ya know… real close and personal. A preference. Bit of normalcy. Soooo…”

He remained silent. So he was a little bit smarter than what he’d look like, from the way he was shaking in his rich white boots. Impressive.

“Tell you what.” He folded his arms over the top of the generator, looking the man in the face as he rested the side of his head against his forearm. “You’re still a noob, and I can’t be having anything fun with that. I’ll give you, hm… 10 seconds to run and hide, phone a friend, you know… not die, but after that, you’re all mine. Sound good?”

The blonde remained silent, blinking at him in bewilderment. That was as good of an answer as any. 

“Alright. 10-”

“Ah, wait, but what about-”

“-9-”

He didn’t say anything after that, dropping the wires in his hands and taking off into a sprint, stumbling as he stood to his full height - and oh boy, was he a tall guy - and turned a corner of old cars.

Danny chuckled, standing up to rest his ass against the side of the gen, flipping his knife in his hand as he kept counting down. “8… 7… 6-5-4-3-2-1- ok, here we go.”

 Curious as it was, he lost the blonde beauty soon after he let him go, instead finding Meg oddly open about where she was, spriting right into his vision. Not that he was complaining; a game was a game, and if the runner decided that she wanted to play tag, then who was he to turn her down? Especially when she was so easy to catch… though as soon as she was hooked, flashlight clicking and Swedish profanities in his ear was enough to make him chase after Nea rather than go after his original chase once again… they were painting a target on their back, and for what? To save the new guy’s skin? He wasn’t an idiot. Just surprised that some of them had the compassion.

 Well, they managed to get another generator done, but the two girls were dead, and a soon injured Tapp was surely soon to follow them. A means to an end, it seemed, as his knife plunged into the detective’s side and sent him crashing into the dirt with a grunt of pain, rolling over onto his back with one eye open, the other wincing in pain, the shadow of the killer cast over him in the moonlight as he wiped his blade.

“OK, Detective, we’ll make this real nice and simple.” He crouched down next to the survivor, taking note of how the blood pooled around him as he laid on his back, staring up at him. “Tell me where your new friend is hiding, and I’ll let you live.”

Silence.

“C’mon, it’s not that hard of a choice to make. I’ve heard getting sacrificed is long and painful, like your insides are getting ripped at over and over again until, poof, you’re back again, at that cozy little campfire, only a little bit more traumatised to show for it. Now, you want that to happen to only one of you, or both of you, hm?”

Tapp looked away, seeming to ponder the possibility.

“Self-preservation instincts, Detective. I know you have them.” He tapped his knife into the dirt. Humans were fickle beings, easily swayed when their life was on the line.

The detective sighed, chest shaking from the strain. “Fine. I know where he’s hiding. But I can’t… breathe right, with a knife in my chest, so come a little closer.”

Danny blinked, but surely he didn’t have any more tricks up his sleeve, so he did as he was told, for once in his life, letting his mask get inches away. “Yes?”

A moment of silence, before there was a whisper in reply, backed by the assurance of an idiot who knew he was going to die regardless, as he spat blood pooling in his mouth onto the mask of the ghost almost pressed against his own. “Go fuck yourself.”

He was almost stunned at the bravado, leaning away with a chuckle, though he gritted his teeth through it. “Oh, you’re a funny man. Absolutely hilarious, you know that?” But still, that was as good of an affirmation of choice as he was going to get from someone so stubborn, so Danny grabbed him by the front of his vest and hoisted him up onto his shoulder.

 The screaming echoed as the heavens opened up, the Entity surely pleased with her feast for the evening, but he still wasn’t done… oh no, far from it. There was still one more handsome devil to track down. Danny rolled his neck, grinning at the gentle cracks from the strain, strolling more than hunting, at this point, for the well-kept survivor he didn’t know the name of, but was practically dying to know. He almost skipped up the crane, looking out of the window as Rapunzel did out of her tower window, before chuckling to himself and hoisting himself out. Danny tapped his blade against his hand, almost going to begin whistling if not for the angelic cries coming from the hill just close by. A grin overtook him, as he chased the calls of cherubs from the ground below.

 He slammed that hatch shut with a satisfied sigh, throwing his knife between his hands as he looked around and arched his neck for the doors. Normally the whelps would just give up at this point, but the guy was new, and probably didn’t know what was best for him. Still, the doors were easily within view, so if he made it out of this alive… well, he wouldn’t, so no promise needed to be made. The killer chuckled to himself, finally settling on wrapping his fingers around the handle of his blade, curling one by one, slowly and deliberately for no one in particular, before setting off to take part in the real game that had begun.

 He had no idea how he did it. Perhaps Danny had become too complacent in his work. But that handsome devil slipped past him more than once, enough for him to open up a gate and tiptoe his nice ass into certain safety. The survivor stared at him from inside the gate as he walked past in bewilderment, shaking like a dog in the rain that was just waiting to be gutted, battered old medkit in hand. And while he was stunned, the man swallowed, nodded, and left the trial head high, descending back into the fog as it began to consume the old gas station, leaving Danny to stare into darkness, barely blinking.

 Well, that was interesting, wasn’t it?

—

His name was Felix, he’d learned from the pig in the meat plant, having overheard it while she watched him blow the generator out by accident and got cursed out by the familiar bane-of-their-existence Swede. German, from the way he’d spoken to Danny by the generator in their first encounter, high up on the social ladder from the way he dressed (unless he’d gotten all dressed up just to see him? Funny, that would be, but very unlikely), shaken by the fog and with a disposition not unlike a lost dog. 

 And yet, despite his nerves and cluelessness to the fog, he always seemed to escape him. He didn’t know how he did it, but from finding hatch to evading the hooks, Felix somehow managed to keep him on his toes. Trials were somehow more exciting, knowing there was a challenge, and a chance to catch he who refused to be caught. Danny knew he was going to revel in the moment, when it eventually came - there was no way someone could be better than him, when he was so in his element.

So, after not seeing the man for the entire trial while hunting through the streets of Badham, catching him at the gate seemed like a dream come true. And he was none the wiser, as Danny quickly slammed his hand against the wall next to the lever, making him jump and freeze, pulling his hand away, two bright lights reflecting onto his face. “And so we meet again.”

“S-so we do.” He ran a hand through his hair before it found a place at the back of his neck, quietly taking a few steps back.

“Aht, aht. I wouldn’t run. I’ll just find you again anyways.”

He stopped. 

“...You know, I don’t quite know how you do it. It’s like you’re avoiding me on purpose.”

“That is… the point, is it not?”

“Oh, how rude- people come here to see me, surely. I’m a spectacle; call me a master at my craft.”

Felix chuckled - god, he chuckled, though it was riddled with nerves, but it most certainly happened, and sounded great - fiddling with the cufflinks on the sleeves of his suit jacket as his back straightened a little, as if flicking a switch to go from sorry sight to professional businessman. “Well, I… don’t suppose you’d be willing to show me why?”

He blinked. “Are you… flirting with me?”

“Am I?”

Danny wasn’t sure if the question was rhetorical or not, from the way he stood beside the lever at the gate, leaning a shoulder against the brick and folding his arms across his strong, broad chest (the way his shirt was unbuttoned just so was something Danny now noticed, and couldn’t stop noticing, barely tearing his eyes away to meet his gaze again) with an almost expectant look. “You’re... a weird one.”

“I… suppose so. Anyone normal would have ignored you and already run for their lives.”

The killer chuckled. “You’re not… entirely wrong. But I gotta say, I do like that. Among… other things.”

Though his eyes weren’t visible, it was as if the survivor knew exactly where he was looking, coughing and covering his mouth with the side of his fist. How cute was that?

He almost couldn’t contain himself. But he managed, somehow, not sure where this whole thing was going, but more than ready to go along for the ride. “Say… how far are you willing to ask that question, anyway? You really wanna know that bad, huh?”

Felix swallowed, closing his eyes for a moment before looking up again, with his piercing blue gaze, lips parting just so into a coy little smile. “Let’s find out, shall we?”

Danny had never thought a man of such sophistication was willing to whore himself out for freedom, but sure enough, he himself opened the gate to let the German go, almost sad to see him leave (though it wouldn’t be for long), but very much enjoying the view.

 He paused. He was supposed to catch him and kill him, wasn’t he? Danny frowned, somewhat troubled, but tried to justify it as returning to old habits in Roseville, as he left the gate, and waited for the fog to consume him again, taking a seat just outside the battered old preschool.

—

It was like the attraction of magnets with twice the force as soon as they saw each other, wasting no time as suddenly Felix’s back was slammed into a tree, a loose and cold gloved hand finding its way up his shirt, sending a shiver up his spine for another reason as he felt lips hit his, with a hunger and desperation he was not expecting but certainly didn’t mind reciprocating, as Danny soon found out. And he wasn’t complaining; he was damn good, for a man with the disposition of a 40-year-old virgin, moving his hands to Danny’s wrist and placing his hand on his waist, which again, he did not mind at all, while the other was still halfway up his shirt. Let the man take the lead, at least for now, because it’s the only chance he’ll get to.

 Danny chuckled as a hand moved to grab his ass - quite the eager beaver, wasn’t he? He was practically purring as he pulled away, the survivor trying to follow him before reeling back as he moved to kissing up the side of his neck, listening close to the adorable little whimpers that came out of him as he squirmed in his grip. The killer then went to move his hand out from under Felix’s shirt, finally, casually undoing the buttons of his waistcoat and shirt one by one, taking the time to walk down his chest with his fingers and feel the shaking breaths of anticipation under his fingertips. Oh, the things he wanted to do-

 Distant voices were enough to make the survivor crack open an eye, pausing before he began to push the killer’s head off of his neck.

“Hey, hey,” Danny didn’t appreciate the interruption, moving to look up as Felix looked around, like a startled animal, though he still purred in the crudest fashion. “C’mon, buddy, I was just getting started.”

“Quiet.” His voice was low and commanding, still shaking from adrenaline.

And for whatever reason, Danny complied.

He swallowed, listening to the silence of the wind in the barrens of the fog-covered forest and there was another distant call, which upon hearing he began trying to wiggle out of the killer’s grip. “Off.”

“Why?”

“They’re looking for me-”

“And you don’t wanna be seen with me?” He gave a mock gasp of offence, though the grin that was slowly growing larger still remained on his face.“Oh, honey-”

“That’s exactly it. Move, please.”

That was enough to make Danny chuckle, squeezing his hips that he still held, enough to make him yelp a little. “Still so polite. If you want me to do somethin’, hon, you gotta be a little more, ah... demanding, yeah?”

Felix glared. “Alright. Get off. Now.” His voice had an annoyed growl to it, though his voice still cracked a little out of embarrassment, as he pushed down on Danny’s arms to let himself go.

“There it is.” And so he moved, standing back and sliding his hands into the pockets of his cloak. He watched the architect fiddle with the buttons on his shirt to redo them again, rushing to do so and messing it up a few times, mumbling to himself. “Need help?”

He glared again. 

Danny laughed, observing how he looked like a kicked puppy as he went back to fiddling with his shirt, pulling down his own mask again to hide what little of his face he had revealed. “You know, I think you’d look much better with it off.”

“Shut up.”

“Oh, that’s not what you were saying with your eyes earlier-”

“You were a lot more tolerable when you were quiet.”

“‘Cos I never had a chance to speak, what, with you all over my mouth.” He shrugged as he spoke, as if it was a nonchalant fact, only smiling wider when he heard Felix try to stammer out a flustered reply, to no avail, choosing instead to simply huff and finish off the buttons on his shirt.

“Regardless, this affair is over.”

“Wait, hold on.”

“What?”

The killer moved his hands up to Felix’s neck, watching the man flinch and hold a breath with a soft chuckle, gently undoing a few of the top buttons that he’d redone. “You normally wear it like this.”

He gently touched at his collar, looking down at his fingers and then to the mask starring back at him. “And you’ve noticed?”

“Hard not to.” He shrugged, tugging at the shirt collar and going to fix up the waistcoat too before his hands were slapped away, which he held up in defence with a grin behind his mask. “So when are we doing this again, sunshine?”

The survivor moved away before he could’ve boxed in against the tree again, taking a few steps towards the direction of the campfire and the voices, though not too far as to disengage from the conversation, perhaps a little unsure how to. “You speak like this will be a regular affair.”

“Well, we had fun, ja?” 

“...Are you mocking me?”

“Not mocking, just… appreciating the culture.”

Felix started, smoothing down the arms of his suit jacket with a light scoff of disbelief. ��Truly, you’re insufferable.”

“Can't say you didn’t enjoy yourself though, huh, mein Schatz?” He leaned his shoulder against the tree now, folding his arms across his chest, earning him a weak-hearted glare.

“Werde gefickt.”

“Gerne.”

Being outplayed in his own game of native tongues, somehow, Felix conceded, looking down at his cufflinks again. “You’re… not entirely wrong, so ...perhaps a name, so I can find you.”

“Oh, so now you want to know me? What happened to a one-time affair, sugar?” 

“When you’re so easy to please, I would be an idiot not to take advantage.”

Danny laughed, shrugging with no retort (though he was uncertain if hitting this pretty boy like a fish was just as good as getting in his pants… that much was yet to be determined). He soon trailed off, swallowing to himself, a lie escaping him as effortlessly as it had always done. “Jed Olsen.”

“Mr. Olsen…” Felix pondered for a moment. “...Ja, OK.”

—

So they’d been fooling around, yeah. Danny had always said he was willing to try it, should an idiot be brave enough, and if it was someone that wasn’t either Ace or David - he was a man with some standards, even with the blood on his hands - but never had he thought about it getting this far.

 The sun never rose or set, but people slept and woke as time passed, regardless of the light outside, and that was no exception here. If anything, it was the cold chill of Ormond that awoke him from sleep, though he’d grown complacent in it, realising the teens that called this shithole a home would probably evict him if he so much as dared to complain. Danny still grumbled, attempting to pull the scraps of the blanket over himself, but finding it unable to move. Turning over, he now heard the sound of gentle snoring, the body, next to him sometimes shuffling, but remained mostly motionless, aside from the movements of breathing from his chest. His latest fling, almost his newest obsession… god, he still looked perfect, even now, golden locks of hair falling out of form, the lighting of the shitty little cabin not enough to hide that perfect jawline tickled with stubble in all the right places, red marks down his neck and back from an encounter that had lead them right here, in the bed he was practically renting in the corner of the resort.

 They’d gotten a little adventurous, hadn't they? Banter in the trials was one thing, borderline voyeurism in the entity’s forest was another, but here? Letting himself be taken back to the realms to stay, where killers were not technically bound by rules of obedience, with Danny of all killers, a man who loved to bend the rules? Felix Richter was a smart man, that much he knew, but by god was he stupid. Maybe he thought there was a good man still in there, in the Ghostface. Well, that was his mistake; it was almost cute for him to still hold out hope though, regardless of how much disappointment was awaiting him down the road. Danny gently ran fingertips along the sleeping man’s arm, feeling the soft skin underneath his touch, smiling despite himself, only pausing at the gentle stirring he caused, practically freezing with his hand in the air as the architect moved, and slowly opened his eyes, sleepily smiling.

“Good morning.”

“...Hi,” he released a breath he didn’t know he was holding, letting his hand fall into the space between them. “Hardly mornin’, but sure.”

“Close enough.”

“Sure.”

There was a soft, amused hum from the other man, adjusting his position a little to better face him, hair falling out of place just so, like some disheveled Ken doll. “I would ask if you slept well, but-”

“Oh, very well, thanks to you. Really outdid yourself this time; I gotta say, that was almost the most fun I’ve had since I got here… or maybe even before-”

A light shove to his chest made him stop and laugh a little, feeling the slight coldness of metal from a family ring against one pec, and almost wanting the light touch of his hand to remain there, before it hit the mattress with a thump, dangerously close to Danny’s. “You’re a funny one, Mr. Olsen.”

He sat up, resting an elbow on the stained old pillow and holding his cheek with the corresponding hand, raising an eyebrow. “Thought you liked me better when I was quieter?”

Felix stared at him with those perfect eyes of his, and he laughed - like audible silk it was, smooth and defined, with a sleepy smile and everything - adjusting himself with a hand under his pillow. “Sometimes. Sometimes I like to hear you.”

“Glad to hear it. I’ve been told it’s my best quality.”

“Hmm. Is it how you make jokes to deflect, or how you talk out of your ass?”

“...Well, hey now, Princess, ouch-”

As he tried to defend himself, the survivor smirked, somehow braver here than anywhere else (and it wasn’t his persona), quipping back to match him, and as he was talking, Danny paused, watching the way his eyes diverted and how his mouth moved, how he talked with his body and the way he smiled and waiting for a small hum in response, and how Danny liked the way his name sounded coming from his mouth, even if it wasn’t entirely the true one. Almost made him wonder what the real thing would sound like… no, that was too much, right? Couldn’t get attached. He wasn’t attached, was he?

 Couldn’t hurt to wait a little more to think on that, before escorting this pretty little thing back to the campfire.

—

So he was thinking about Felix a lot more than was normal for an obsession of his. What started off as a vengeful curiosity had morphed into something else, something so ugly yet so beautiful, foreign to Danny in recent years, or perhaps his entire life. Was this how high school girls felt, chasing after the jocks for a chance to get them off, and maybe start a high school whirlwind romance? Well, he certainly wasn’t a prepubescent cheerleader, but the survivor that had caught his attention seemed just like the squeaky clean Prince Charming that girls drooled over.

 And he couldn’t have that. Not at all.

 The fog cleared out of his vision slowly, and he opened his eyes, almost rolling them as the field of corn came into view. Coldwind - the rotten fields, it looked like, from the wide expanse of produce hiding his vision. Despite the cards not being in his favour, a game could still be played here, if he played his hand, carefully. And he was planning to. He’d let himself get distracted. But not again.

 Getting back into the routine of the hunt was like sliding into a comfortable sweater, blood shedding with no tear from him. Laurie was always a thrilling chase, her determination being almost cute. Quentin was similar, though the boy with insomnia had a lot less appeal than the virgin final girl, to be sure. David, of course, was David - loud, frustrating to deal with, and incredibly annoying. And… Felix. He knew how he felt about Felix already.

 As well as he tried to play it, this time, the game was not in his favour, and quite quickly generators across the field were powered, with only a few hooks under his belt. Getting to a gate, it was already beginning to open, three of them already filing into the funnel of the exit. But Felix, he was lagging behind, and without thinking, Danny took a swipe...

 ...No one escaped death. Not even the man he may have fallen for.

 As he wiped the blood from his blade with a gloved hand closed around it, he watched the architect grasp at his side and stumble, leaning a shoulder up against a wooden wall for support.

“Go.” He called to the woman in the blue shirt, standing at the gate.

“Felix, we can’t-”

“I said go, Laurie!”

She gritted her teeth and went to ignore him, running back into the cornfield, but a grip and pull on her arm from David stopped her, as much as she tried to fight against it. Quentin was the last to leave, watching the two of them for a moment before he swallowed, and chased after them, a medkit in hand.

 “Alone time, eh? Hon, we’re on a time limit here-”

“Just get it done.”

Danny tried to laugh. But it didn’t… feel right, somehow, even if it was the same as it always had been. As Felix leaned against a wall to support himself and slid down, knees buckling underneath him, he crouched down to meet him. “I dunno… no fun when they don’t squirm, you know?”

“...Jed-”

“Danny.”

He paused. “What?”

“It’s Danny Johnson. My name, I mean. I lied, when we first met. ...Surprise!” Knife still gripped, he tried to do a small jazz hands movement, though it seemed a fall flat. Only hurt more with what came next.

“...I figured as much.”

“Oh yeah? And why’d you set yourself up for failure like that, sunshine?”

“Because… I don’t know. I thought you were like me.”

The killer deflated a little, tilting his head to one side.

“I… maybe, I thought you were playing something up. I always felt… something else, there. Maybe something even you didn’t know about. Under all that ego, Mr Ol- ...Mr. Johnson, there was a man who cared, once.”

He tapped the blade of his knife against the floor. “...Maybe. I dunno.”

“Do you think he’s still in there?”

Danny didn’t reply right away, dragging his blade through the dirt by his feet absentmindedly. He didn’t entirely know, at this point. Normally this would have been the end of their little game - it was over, he had caught him and won - but something was stopping him. The ground shook, reminding him of that first moment where this fascination had started to plague him. “...You’ve done something to me, Felix.”

He hummed, trying to shift where he sat, holding his side where the blood had stained his very nice suit. “Have I?”

“Must have done. Because this isn’t as fun as I thought it would be.”

“That’s the reality of most things, I’m afraid.”

“I hate it.”

The survivor almost laughed, though it was pained and strained, clearly struggling… but was the sliver of it that made it, that small smile on his stupid, perfect face - that was enough, it seemed, to make Danny smile too.

He pulled up his mask entirely, tugging down his hood and fixing his hair with a quick ruffle, feeling the cloth tendrils on his sleeves whip behind him from the movement. The killer took a second to stare at Felix in front of him, before he moved his hand up to his face, watching him flinch. “Hey- relax, baby, I’m not gonna hurt you yet.”

“Yet.”

Danny hummed, cupping his face and wiping away the blood starting to dribble out of his mouth with a finger. “There. You’re a messy little boy, aint’cha?”

A cough, more blood involuntarily spilling out from his mouth now, this time splashing onto his shirt and the front of Danny’s suit. “My apologies. I’ll make sure to bleed less next time you stab me.”

“‘Ppreciate it, babes.”

Though he thought the man would shove him away, he instead seemed to lean into the touch, moving a hand to hold onto Danny’s wrist. “You still smell like cheap cologne.”

“It’s the only thing they sent me here with. ‘Sides, your scent goes away after a while.”

“Gross.”

“The one and only.”

And despite his small smile, of both annoyance and amusement, the third overwhelming emotion behind his eyes was that of sadness. The ground shook around them, but they didn’t seem to care, not until Danny moved his hand away and stood to his feet again, grabbing his knife from the floor and wiping the dirt off of the blade on his thigh.

 “Is this it, then?”

“‘Fraid so.”

“...It was fun.”

“Oh yes, it was.” He looked down at his knife, pressing the tip of the blade against his finger and twisting it, the moonlight and bleeding of the ground catching the light of the metal. “...For what it’s worth? You were close.”

“Close to what?”

“Makin’ me a person. Ya know, not a prick, like… an actual loser, with empathy. Almost had me for a sec, hot stuff.”

“Is that why you’re stopping this? Are you scared?”

Danny swallowed down a reply. He took a moment to look down at Felix, who’s eyes had followed him the entire time, making a small ‘call me’ sign with his free hand and forcing a smirk. “If you ever decide you wanna make a mistake again, you’ll know where to find me.”

“...Goodbye, Danny.”

He walked off into the corn, not wanting to see the way those blue eyes stared at him anymore, only stopping at the pained screaming that followed. The shaking of the ground had stopped now. She had come to feast.

 As he stood in the middle of cornfield, he looked up at the sky of the farm, overcast and grey, tendrils of the Entity reaching down to claim her prize, and fog swirling around him to take him back, to lay in wait, until the next time.

 He was right. His name did sound nice coming out of Felix’s mouth. 

[aizawaorkuroo]

on the house (chapter 2) - maple soy latte

Ship: Yagi Toshinori x reader

Rated: T+

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: Toshinori finally introduces himself, and you fumble your way through a conversation. But maybe it's not one-sided?

Warnings: some language and mentions of sex

AN: still trying to vibe with this writing style, but i just wanna write this haha

OTH Masterlist

____________________

Yes, you had fumbled your entire conversation with the man with piercing eyes and sunflower hair. Yes, you had embarrassingly ranted to Suga after. Yes, you had overwatered a tea plant or two the first night because you were thinking about how his hair bloomed behind him so nicely. And you may have gotten an order or two wrong, but it doesn’t matter, you’re fine now. You can now amicably chat with the UA faculty and students who pop in without nervously looking for him, and other customers are just customers. No sense of attachment. You’re back to normal now.

However, the way Aiko’s palm hits her forehead after looking at the tea leaves you’ve brought for her today tells you otherwise.

“Y/N, you promised you were gonna bring the spices I needed. I’ve already got tea leaves here”, she groans, her horns shifting into a bright red out of frustration. You grimace at the thought of the bulk bags that were sitting on your counter at home. You had set them out as a reminder to bring them in today. Why had you brought more leaves instead?

You shut your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose. You had been thinking about that dumb, tall stranger and left the bags at home. You exhale and open your eyes, giving Aiko a pointed look.

“Alright, alright. It’s fine,” she chirps. “I’ll make do, boss. We shall experiment another day,” she mumbles in a far off tone. You offer her an apologetic grimace before making preparations to open the cafe. Now, you swear you’ll be fine.

____________________

The sky’s a warm, deep orange, rippled with pinks and yellows. You reach your arms above your head and stretch from behind the coffee bar, exhaustion beginning to creep up on you. But on the weekend you stay open late, and today was no exception. Your face screws up in what’s sure to be an unpleasant sight as you glance at the clock. The second Suga gives Hizashi Yamada his fried chicken sandwich, he’s out the door. And Aiko would be right behind him.

As the sun continues to dip down, the bell above your door rings and Aiko is practically buzzing.

“Hello, Sweet Bean!” A loud, clear voice rings out in the cafe. Hizashi Yamada, otherwise known as the Pro Hero Present Mic. He comes in every Friday before his radio show to get a caffeine boost and a hot sandwich made by Suga and only Suga. Why did he want a fried chicken sandwich of all things, you may never know. But Aiko, your excitable friend, had taken a shine to Yamada. They seemed to feed off of each other's energy.

You smile at Yamada as he bounds over to giggle at something with Aiko. When you turn your gaze forward, your mind goes blank. He’s back. The man who had been living in your thoughts the past two weeks was back. Your stomach is practically in your throat, but there’s a light at the end of this tunnel: redemption. The chance at a normal conversation, or maybe something even better. But for now, you turn to Yamada.

“Your usual sweet monstrosity, Yamada?” you ask playfully.

“You know it, baby girl,” he sings at you. “Y’know, I never go anywhere else but here. I swear nothing makes me feel as happy as the coffee you make.” You bark out a laugh as you flush. But this game isn’t over yet.

“Well, I’m sure I could do some other things that would make you happy too,” you purr and bat your eyelids. Aiko doubles over in laughter, and you hear Suga groan from the kitchen. Yamada gives you a nod of approval, and you grin.

You stick your tongue out at him before forcing yourself to look up at the other man. A pretty red color blooms all over his face, and he looks mildly uncomfortable at best. You take a sharp breath and steel yourself before leaning into your customer service voice.

“It’s nice to see you again. I never got your name,” you prompt, in what’s hopefully an innocent voice. His eyes widen slightly, and he sheepishly rubs the back of his head.

“Toshinori. Yagi Toshinori,” he rumbles. Toshinori. You tilt your head as his name bounces around in your head. Finally, a name to go with the face that’s been plaguing you.

“Oh, so you’ve been here before, Toshinori?” A mischievous smirk slips onto Yamada’s face. The blush on the man’s - on Toshinori’s - face deepens. His slouch dips even lower, and he shifts uncomfortably.

“Right, Aizawa brought me a few weeks ago.” Yamada’s eyes open in surprise as if he knows something no one else does. His lips pull into a smirk, and he turns to look you up and down in a new light. Your face burns and you shift your gaze towards the counter in front of you.

“Anyways,” Aiko chimes in to your relief, “Yamada, how are your students?” You let out a small breath as Yamada and Aiko begin to chatter away. A large, calloused hand enters your field of view, and you look up. Toshinori stands a little straighter, and there’s a gleam in his eye.

You stare at his hand dumbly before realizing what he meant. Wiping your palms on your apron, you accept his handshake before offering your name shyly. He grins lazily at you, and something warm bursts from your chest.

“Well, what do you recommend this time?” One of his eyebrows quirks up, as he waits for your response.

“Oh, well our weekend special is a maple soy latte!” Your voice feels too loud, too forced, and you wince. “But if you’re allergic to soy we’ve got plenty of other milk options. Or if you don’t like maple-” His small chuckle cuts you off, and you flush.

“I’ll try the special.” You nod and fidget with a stray coffee stirrer.

“And if you’re hungry,” you rush out, “Suga is a pretty decent cook, and our kitchen has a whole assortment of ingredients. I’m sure he’d be happy to make you anything.”

With perfect timing, Suga comes to the front to give Present Mic his neatly wrapped sandwich. He’s smiling, but he turns to face you, and Aiko snorts at how pained he looks. Ah right, they’re both about to leave. When you turn back to Toshinori, he’s got a knowing look on his face, and he lightly shakes his head.

“Thanks for the offer. I think I’ll be happy with just the drink.” You nod, and you swear Suga’s about to cry from relief.

“Alright, I’m gonna head out. Are you good here?” His offer is just a courtesy, and you roll your eyes.

“Get out of here, kiddo. And Aiko, you’re good too. I’ll clean and close up.” Suga’s face scrunches up unpleasantly at the nickname, but he’s gone almost immediately. Aiko nods, but tilts her up and taps her chin.

“I’m gonna go check on the tea blends, and then I’ll head out,” she says carefully. You nod, as she skips back to the kitchen. When you hand Yamada his double-shot caramel, mocha chip frappuccino, he practically swoons.

“Y/N, you absolute goddess. Truly, I have never had a sweeter drink from a sweeter lady,” he croons. You roll your eyes, but can’t help the warmth that rises to your cheeks.

“You have the palette of a child,” you deadpan, and Aiko lets out a resounding laugh from the kitchen.

“But you make it so well.”

“Only for you baby.” You wink at him before dropping the act. “Now pay up!” Once he’s got his receipt in his hand, you turn to quickly make Toshinori his drink. And it’s only when you set down the in-house mug in front of him that you realize your error.

“Oh wait, did you want this to-go? I can absolutely make you one to-go. I just have only been making these in-house today, and I just blanked. Sorry about that!” you apologize. He shakes his head at your offer.

“That’s fine, don't worry about it. I can drink it here. How much?” He looks at you intensely, and you flush, your stomach twisting into knots.

“Oh! It’s on the house.”

He reddens and looks away, and you can’t help but feel like this was maybe a mistake again. You can practically feel Aiko’s stare from the kitchen. Before you spiral and curl up into a ball, a loud yell snaps you back to reality.

“Hey! How come I never get anything on the house?” Yamada slurps at his drink as he waits for an answer. You turn to look at him and put your hands on your hips.

“First of all, you never bring in your rewards card. Second of all, we play your goddamn radio show every Friday night until we close. Because you asked me to. That’s gotta be worth something.” You raise a brow at him, and he tilts his head as he ponders your words.

“Alright, that’s fair enough for now, but this discussion isn’t over! I’ll see you next week Sweet Bean! And I’ll see you later, Toshinori!” he calls over his shoulder as he runs out the door. Aiko steps back into the storefront, and she’s looking at you funny, but she grants you the small mercy of not bringing anything up.

“Y/N, I’ve gotta head out too.” She says in a calm, far off tone, making your eyebrows crease, but you nod. She looks back at you as she goes to clock out, and you almost miss the small wink she gives you.

The door slams behind her, and you turn back to face Toshinori. Your eyes trace the lines of his face, and your stomach flips when he cocks his head to the side and stares right back at you.

“Enjoy your drink!” you blurt out. “I’ll be in the kitchen starting to clean up if you need anything.” He nods before taking his drink to a free table. There are only a few other regulars in the cafe, so you figure you’d be safe to do the dishes and put some things away.

About thirty minutes later, you step back into the front, expecting everyone to be gone. To your surprise, Toshinori is still there. His cup’s empty, and he’s reading over a few papers that he had with him.

You watch him from behind the counter. He’s deeply focused on whatever he’s reading, and the way his face twists makes you smile. He’s sharp, all angles and hard lines. You barely know this man, but fuck, you were infatuated. You bite the inside of your cheek as you make a spur of the moment decision.

“Mind if I join you?” Toshinori’s head snaps up to see you standing in front of him, and his eyes widen, but he gestures to the seat across from him.

“Not at all.”

You smile graciously and pull the chair out. His eyes try to refocus on his paper, but they continuously flutter up to your face, as if checking to make sure you're still there. You lean forward and rest your head in your palm.

“What are you doing?” you murmur. The tips of his ears heat up, and you know then and there, that you’re going to eat him alive.

“Just some paperwork. Nothing too interesting.” You hum at his words. He sounds honest enough, but something in his eye tells you to not believe him.

“Do you work with Aizawa and Yamada?” He nods and one of his hands moves to scratch the back of his head.

“Yes, though I feel they’re more suited to teaching.” His voice is distant, and worry pulls his face tight. You tap your fingers against your face, as you think of what to say.

“I know I don’t know you all too well,” you murmur, “but don’t be so hard on yourself.” You purse your lips in thought. You had never seen him before. Was he even a Pro? Wasn’t that a requirement to teach at UA? Or maybe it wasn’t? Is that why he’s worried?

“The way I see it, as long as you’re doing your best, watching out for your students, and looking for ways to improve, you shouldn’t stress too much. As long as you choose to do the next right thing, one step at a time, I think you can get through anything. Even teaching the next generation of heroes,” you conclude.

Your eyes drift back down to Toshinori, and you flush at how intently he’s looking at you. He’s mirrored your position, resting his face in one palm, while his other hand is on the table, dangerously close to yours. “But, like, what do I know? I’m not a hero, and I don’t teach,” you backtrack in a panic.

His gaze is too, well, too something. It stirs up a swirl of emotions and thoughts in you, and butterflies fly free in your stomach. You tilt your head down, looking at the proximity between your hands. You swallow past the lump in your throat; you're particularly struck by how large and rough his hands are. His fingers are thick and long, and your blood heats up. He’s lean and gangly, all sharp angles and intense looks, but your thoughts drift to darker places against your will.

You do everything in your power to not squeeze your thighs together. When you look up at him, your eyes are half-lidded, and you can’t help but lick your lips. You don’t miss the way his eyes jump down to watch the action. The cafe is way too warm now; you feel like you're on fire.

“Good evening listeners!” You flinch as a loud, familiar voice blares through the sound system of the cafe. Looking down at your arms, you realize you’re faintly glowing. You slam the metaphorical brakes on your quirk, and the cafe feels bearable again.

“I’m Present Mic, and this is Put Your Hands Up On The Radio!” You roll your eyes before pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Well, Toshinori. I don’t think you’ll be able to get work done here in peace.” He hums in agreement, nose scrunching as Yamada chatters away. “And it’s been a long day, so I may just close early tonight,” you softly say, mostly to yourself. Toshinori nods anyways, and he slowly moves to pack his things up.

You shakily rise and smooth down your apron. You quickly turn around and get to work bussing the tables from previous customers. The entire time, you feel a white-hot gaze on your back, making your hands fumble. After dumping the dishes in the sink and promising to do them tomorrow, you move back to the front to put away the chairs. Toshinori’s still there, but he rises when he sees you working.

“Would you like any help?” You look over at him, eyeing him up and down before nodding.

“Sure, but don’t feel pressured to help. I can get it done.” He chuckles lightly, and your stomach flips.

“I don’t doubt that.”

With his help, you finish quickly. He watches you silently as you run around turning things off and locking doors. Once you have your things, you meet him at the front of the store. He holds the door open for you, and you thank him shyly, trying to not think of the things you want to do to him. As you fumble with the lock, he looks around the street.

“Do you want me to walk you home?” Putting your keys in your pocket, you smile softly before shaking your head.

“Oh, no it's okay. I’ll be fine. I live just a few blocks that way.” You jerk your head behind you in emphasis. He nods but continues to just look at you. Warmth seeps into the pit of your stomach, and the tension is tangible. He runs a hand through his hair, and you admire the way the yellow strands pop right back up again.

“Well, have a good night,” he rumbles. Part of you wants to drag him home with you, and your gaze snaps back to his hands. Arousal pools in the pit of your stomach, but you force your eyes to move up and look him in his eyes.

“You too.” Your voice is soft, and you feel an overwhelming sense of fondness and want growing rapidly in your chest. You turn to start walking, but before you take a step, you pause and turn around.

“Toshinori?” He cocks his head to the side, waiting for you to continue. “You know, you don’t have to come with Aizawa or Yamada? You’re welcome whenever.” The blush that had been adorning his face all night returns, and he nods at your words. You give him a small wave, before turning to walk to your apartment, doing your best to ignore the throbbing in between your legs.

____________________

When Toshinori makes it home, he exhales. That was … different. But it wasn’t bad. He kicks off his shoes and rubs his face. He could maybe do this. Maybe. Aizawa and Yamada, and plenty of his students at that, liked you well enough. When Yamada had mentioned he was going, he had practically jumped at the opportunity. Aizawa shot Yamada a look, one that Toshinori pretended to not see.

So what? You intrigue him, and he finds you attractive. His face heats up at the thought, and he exhales shakily.

But a thousand questions plagued his mind. Would you be okay seeing a Pro Hero? Fuck, is he going to have to tell you he’s All Might? How would you even react? Would you get disappointed? Is there a chance you’re already seeing someone? He pales at the thought. Were you even interested? There’s a chance he’s misreading all the signals.

But he saw how you looked at his hands, the way your eyes trail over his face, he felt the tension that wouldn’t dissipate no matter how much he wanted it to. But it’s hard to believe anyone, let alone you would be interested in him while he looks like this.

He sinks down into his mattress and runs a hand through his hair. It’s impossible to know the answers to anything. And worrying about them isn’t going to accomplish anything. So he lets them slip from his mind. Turning his thoughts to other things. But as sleep overtakes him, there’s only one thing he’s sure of.

He should’ve walked you home.

[transformersvn]

Thoughts on Transformers: War For Cybertron - Earthrise

My thoughts on this are less cohesive than last time, so I hope you're ready for a long ramble as I try to figure out exactly what I think about the series.

Tl;dr - still looks really pretty, but Siege’s weak writing hasn't improved.

Spoilers below the cut.

Earthrise generally suffers from being part 2 of 3. It's focused on getting characters from point A (Cybertron) to point B (Earth) and doesn't really do much in the meantime. You could've cut episodes 4 and 5 and it wouldn't have affected the plot all that much.

Megatron and Optimus

They need to stop having fights. It'd be best for their characters and the plot if they hadn't spent several minutes pointing guns at each other and saying that *this* time they were actually going to kill them. Just follow through already and if you can't then keep them apart until the climax.

Optimus getting distracted by Cog running up and going 'Optimus! What are you doing?!' was stupid. Cog should've been glad that Optimus was finally at the point where he wouldn't sacrifice every last Autobot to save Megatron if given the opportunity.

Them being trapped together was pointless and stupid (aside from that one screenshot we all made). Megatron's point that Optimus keeps screwing up and it's Megatron who pays the price was interesting - but it was surrounded by so much nonsense that it fell flat.

Speaking of…

Autobot Decepticon teamups

Are they trying to lean towards ending the series with mutual cooperation and peace? Their 'we all need to work together' moments were always horribly shoehorned and the Autobots didn't once try to put measures in place to defend themselves when the Decepticons inevitably betrayed them.

I like hero/villain teamups, but it doesn't work if the heroes are stupid about them.

Scorponok fight

There is a big room with a big enemy in. The Autobots have shut themselves in a corridor on one side of the room. They need to reach the other side of the room without getting killed. Whose idea was it to try and kill Scorponok instead of just evasive maneuvers to the other side of the room?!?

To be fair, Optimus did try and run distraction, but Bumblebee decided that was a stupid plan and standing still and shooting at the enemy - that none of their blasters had even scratched - was a better one.

It was a stupid fight. If they wanted a Megatron/Optimus moment so badly then, hey, the Autobots have rigged the station to blow and the Decepticons don't know that - have Megatron set off an explosion by accident and trap him and Optimus (who could've been diving forward to try and stop Megatron, thereby getting close).

The Dead Universe

You could've replaced this with Optimus getting a vision from the Matrix and Megatron having a short visit from future!Galvatron. It wasted time that could've been spent on actual character development.

Skylynx had about 3 lines that he just repeated variants of the whole episode.

Was it clear to anyone who hadn't seen the 1986 movie exactly what the Megatron/Galvatron link was? They were pretty vague about it.

Also, if Skylynx's advice made Optimus go 'hmm, yes, I should stop looking back and actually kill Megatron to prevent my own death', then Galvatron's advice to Megatron should've made him go 'I don't hate Prime this much/if he’s dedicated all his effort into stopping Prime and still failed, there must be another way'. I suppose, he didn’t kill Optimus when given a perfect opportunity, but that also just felt like an extension of their endless *points gun* “one-liner” *tables are turned* cycle.

Elita

Poor, poor, badly written Elita. She can't get anything done without Jetfire - the big strong man - questioning her or being the one to save the day, or making a desperate plan to try and fight their way out of captivity when they're going to be sacrificed, but we never see their escape attempt.

I don't think she acts like someone who is on a doomed planet. Breaking into prisons camps makes less sense than trying to find a way to fix things. Let her fail, fine, but give her a fighting chance to try and reignite Cybertron or, say, find someone who is rumoured to be able to create synthetic energon - which could've been a reason for prison breaks at least.

And it was probably meant to be read differently, but Elita's silence over her name when Megatron called her Ariel to her face, versus Optimus snarling that ‘her name is Elita-1!′ when Megatron used 'Ariel' around him, kinda makes me wonder whose decision it was to rename her.

Cog

They don't get to make me sad about a character death when that character had previously stopped Optimus from finally trying to kill Megatron and also failed to just bloody shoot Deeceus. And had he really taken the enemy ship? Really?

Misc

We never found out why the station was trapped halfway through the Spacebridge.

Optimus's voice actor still sounds like a bad Batman when he's angry, though he might've gotten away with it if Megatron's voice actor didn't have such a good "Prime" snarl.

Everyone is miserable, which isn't necessarily a bad thing in a series about the struggles of war, but when it's aimed at kids you have to ask the question: are they enjoying it? It is fun to watch?

Ultra Magnus's head was sort of flagged up as important - specifically its location was noted by Elita - but never appeared again once Megatron left Cybertron. Did he take it with him?

For having such a hard-on for the 1986 movie, their decision to have Megatron beg for mercy (something quite out of character for this version of Megatron) and not include Optimus's 'you who are without mercy now plead for it?' line was a weird whiplashy moment.

Showing Glavatron and Unicron in the trailer when they literally appear for one episode and five second respectively was seriously false advertising. When did people forget that watching a trailer is supposed to give you an idea of the type/style of plot the media is supposed to deliver?

The editing is bad in several places. There were often moments where there would be an explosion in place A, then it'd cut to a battered character in place B getting up in a ruined room, making it look like they'd been in said explosion. Confusing in a series where palette-swapping and similar character designs already make it difficult for newcomers to tell what's going on.

The velociraptor-bot at the end looked like 90's CGI and I really hope Kingdom doesn't all look like that.

If Hot Rod doesn't show up and get the Matrix in Kingdom I'm going to be severely disappointed.

Starscream really likes speechifying to a tiny audience. He makes his bid to become leader in front of a nameless Decepticon, Soundwave, Ravage, and an injured Megatron - who promptly shoots him. I have to admit that he’s probably the character they did best by, his coup moments were pretty good and captured Starscream as we all know him.

Like the question of what exactly was under siege in Siege, Earthrise only gets to Earth at the end of the last episode.

Wheeljack felt weirdly useless. He didn’t get to go through with his plan of blowing up the station and couldn’t open a pair of blast doors that Soundwave had 0 problems with. After not being the one to fix the Spacebridge in Siege, he’s not feeling much like an engineer.

You had to guess motivations and plans and fairly often piece things together backwards after the fact. Having an idea of who everyone was made that easier for me than for non-fans, but I still ended up running on incorrect assumptions about what people were going to do and why.

...

So, there you go. I guess I’m still going to watch Kingdom when it comes out, but I think I’ve lost all my optimism for it being any good.

[thebluesideofmyworld]

Will You, or Will You Not - A Solangelo One-Shot

Summary:  The three times when Will asked Nico about marriage. And the one time when he screwed up. Well, kind of.

Word Count: 5300 words | Read on AO3

[one]:  The first time Will asked Nico whether he wanted to get married, Will was 16 years old

Will didn’t know why or what it was exactly that made the thought crossed his mind. Probably it was the perfect weather, or the way the sky looked so blue. Or the way the sunlight seeped in through the leaves of the big oak tree where they were spending their afternoon.

Or maybe, it was because of Nico. The way his dark hair felt so soft between Will’s fingers as he played with it. The way he looked like a beautiful contrast of the summer palette of the scene. The way just being with Nico made Will’s heart constrict with so much affection. It was almost scary how this small boy laying his head on Will’s lap could make Will feel so many emotions at once.

Whatever it was, the question just blurted out from Will.

“Neeks, do you want to get married someday?”

Nico’s eyes opened at once, then he blinked.

Will already regretted asking the question when Nico sat up. The serene expression that he had two seconds ago disappeared, as he was looking at Will with confusion.

“What?”

“Hey… relax, Neeks,” Will said.  He laughed, a bit nervously. He ruffled Nico’s hair. “It’s not like I am asking you to marry me.”

Nico stared at Will with an unreadable expression. Or maybe Will just didn’t dare to guess whether Nico was disappointed; or he was relieved that no, Will’s question wasn’t exactly a marriage proposal.

“I mean… At least, not now …” Will added, rather quietly. He looked down, and reached out for Nico’s hand. He held it, and watched the way Nico’s fingers filled the gap between his. It’s soothing. To have Nico’s hand in his. Will looked up again to meet Nico’s eyes, and smiled softly.

Nico bit down his lower lip, then he looked away from Will. For a while, it looked like he was lost in his thoughts.

“Come here,” Will said, letting go of Nico’s hand just so he could pull Nico closer to him. Nico leaned his head on Will’s shoulder. Will sneaked his arm around Nico’s back to hold him. Nico’s hand found Will’s and held it.

“Is that even possible ?” Nico asked. His voice laced with doubts. “A boy, getting married to another boy ?”

“It is,” Will said, knowing that it might be something that Nico still had some trouble to believe in. Heck, months ago, it took quite some time and many conversations to make him believe that yes, a boy could have a boyfriend. “It might not seem possible decades ago, Neeks. But yes, it is possible now.”

“Are we even going to get to that point, though?”

The question was more than just about whether they would still be together, years from now. It was also a question of whether they would still be around.

“Hey,” Will said. “Let’s not think about whether we would ever going to get there.”

“What should we think about, then?’

“Let’s just think about how wonderful it would be when we get there.”

Nico snorted. “Always the optimistic one, aren’t you, Solace?”

“The romantic one, to be exact,” Will said, and placed a soft kiss on Nico’s temple.

For a while, none of them said anything. Will mindlessly drew small circles on the back of Nico’s hand that he was holding.

“But… We don’t have to, you know…” Will said carefully. “I mean… People don’t have to get married to stay together…”

Nico still didn’t say anything, and Will honestly had no idea what it was running through Nico’s mind. And naturally, just like he did whenever he got nervous about something, Will started rambling.

“I mean… yeah, getting married sounds nice and wedding parties are always fun but… it’s just a piece of paper, right? And people don’t have to get married to stay together, as long as they love each other it won’t really matter, right? As long as they’re happy I think-“

“Will?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

There was amusement in Nico’s voice. Will tilted his head a bit so he could look at Nico. Nico’s eyes were closed, but the tips of lips curled up just a bit, into the vaguest of a smile. Will let out a sigh of relief.

“Okay,” Will said. He took Nico’s hand to his lips, and pressed a light kiss on the knuckles. Nico shifted so now he was laying his head on Will’s lap. Will gently runs his fingers through the strands of Nico’s hair. A few minutes of comfortable science passed by, and Will wished there was a kind of magic where he could freeze this moment. Not just a picture of them, together like this. But also the feeling of contentment. The feeling of serene and peacefulness, just because they were together.

Nico opened his eyes. He gazed at the sky. “I think… I went to a wedding party once. When I was a kid,” Nico said.

“In Italy?”

Nico hummed. His brows furrowed down a bit, and there was a small frown on his face, like he was trying to concentrate on calling back a memory.

“I can’t even remember whose wedding that was,” Nico said. “Probably one of my aunts? Or maybe it was one of my Mama’s friends?”

Will gently ran his finger on Nico’s brow, smoothing out the line. “What else that you can remember?” Will asked, as he started to lightly massage Nico’s temple with his fingers. Sometimes Nico had flashes of memories from his past, and whenever he tried to remember about the memory clearly, he had a headache.

“I remember wearing a suit? And eating cakes.”

“Wedding cakes are always the best.”

“I remember seeing Mama danced. Maybe with Hades? Or was it my grandfather? But I remember how she smiled and laughed and looked so pretty in her yellow dress. It was flowing around her.”

“That sounds lovely…”

Nico stayed quiet for a moment before he continued. “Bianca also danced with me that day. She wore a green dress.”

Will kissed the crown of Nico’s head. Nico closed his eyes again for a while. When he opened it, his dark eyes were gazing at something far away. At a distant memory.

“I don’t…really remember what else that happened, or who else that was there. But I remember that… there was music. And cakes. And people were smiling and laughing.” Nico sighed. He took one of Will’s hands that was massaging his temple, and put it over his chest.

“I remember that everyone was happy. I was happy.”

Will smiled. “I’m glad that it was a happy memory.”

“Yeah,” Nico said. “And I guess…you’re right. Wedding parties sound like fun.”

A small flower of hope bloomed inside Will’s chest. “We can have a fun wedding party for our wedding.”

Nico snorted, but his cheeks turned into a shade of red. “As long as we can make sure that Apollo is not the wedding singer.”

Will laughed. His chest was filled with warm and light air and he was just so so happy and optimistic and everything felt lighter and looked brighter.

“It’s something that can be arranged,” Will said. “As long as I get to pick the song for our first dance.”

***

[two]: The second time Will asked Nico about marriage, they were just starting a new phase in their life together.

They still have a few boxes left to unpack. But it’s already late and they were both exhausted. Besides, it’s Friday anyway, so they still have Saturday and Sunday to do the unpacking and putting the stuff where they want to be before Will started his first day in med school. So they decided to go to bed and get their much-needed rest.

Their bed, Will thought giddily as he lied down on the fresh sheets. It was dark with only dim light from the street lamps seeping in from the blue curtains. But when Will stared at the ceiling, he knew that it was painted in sky blue, with stripes of dark blue lining up the part where the ceiling meets the walls.

It wasn’t much. Just a small one-bedroom apartment, but at least it’s close enough to Cornell, where Will had received a scholarship for his study.

It was just almost too good to be true, Will had a hard time to believe in his luck. Getting a degree in Biochemistry from the University of New Rome where he went through the premed track hadn’t really been a surprise. Almost all of the demigods who decided to go to college went there anyway. But to receive a financial aid to go to the med school like what he had always dreamed about? Now that, was one of the best things ever happened in his life. Will was aware that it probably had something to do with how the Apollo’s legacies pulled some strings. But still.

One great thing was followed by another great thing. After four years of going through some sort of long-distance relationship with Nico while doing his undergrad, Nico agreed to move in together into this small apartment. Nico himself finally managed to get a high-school diploma after passing the GED test. And now while doing some stuff for Hades every once in a while, he took some online classes to have a degree in criminal justice.

Just thinking about Nico made something fluttered pleasantly inside Will’s chest. He turned around to lie on his side. He smiled as he watched Nico, who was lying on his side with his eyes closed. Will gently brushed Nico’s hair from covering his forehead. Nico’s eyes fluttered open.

“You’re not sleeping yet?” Nico asked sleepily.

“Not really sleepy yet,” Will said, half-whispering.

“Well, I want to sleep. I’m exhausted,” Nico said and closed his eyes again.

Will chuckled and snaked his arm around Nico, pulling him closer. Nico groaned but shifted towards Will, and rested his cheek on Will’s shoulder.

Will kissed Nico’s forehead and started playing with Nico’s hair. Nico let out a content sigh.

I can get used to this, Will thought, unconsciously smiling. And his heart swelled to remember that Nico would be the first sight that he saw once he opened his eyes tomorrow. And the day after. And the days after. That thought made a warm rush through his vein. The thought that Nico would be the last thing that he saw before he fell asleep at night, and Nico would be the first thing he saw when the morning came.

Yeah. That would be nice, Will thought.

And another thought crossed Will’s mind. He wouldn’t mind having this for the rest of his life.

“Hey, Neeks?”

A wordless grunt was the only answer that came from Nico.

“You still want to get married, right?”

Nico got tensed for a second. Will’s heart missed a beat.

“What do you mean?” Nico asked him back without looking up at Will.

Wills shrugged. He continued playing with the soft strand of Nico’s hair. It was still a bit damp from the shower, and smelled faintly of cinnamon.

“I mean, now that we live together… I guess… it’s just nice if we can… stay together…”

Will let the words for the rest of our lives stayed as a secret hope inside his heart.

“You said that people don’t have to get married to stay together.”

Will bit his lower lip. A piece of his heart shattered.

“Well, yeah. I guess I did say so.”

Will took a deep breath, and let it out in a long sigh, half-aware of how it was a bit shaky. Nico was right. Indeed, they didn’t actually need a piece of paper to stay together. It’s not like Will was obsessed with the idea of getting married. What he wanted, what he really wanted, was to be with Nico.

But getting married wasn’t exactly an idea that Will was against to. It wasn’t like Will never secretly thought of writing his name as Will Solace-di Angelo (it sounded better on his tongue than Will di Angelo-Solace). And getting married seemed to be one of the most logical things to settle down. To have a more solid future together.

But if it wasn’t something that Nico wanted, then maybe it wasn’t something meant for them.

And Will would be fine with it. As long as they could still stay together. Will couldn’t lie about the slightly bitter disappointment, creeping in a small hole in his chest. But he would be fine.

Nico still said nothing, but he ran his palm gently over Will’s chest.

Will let out another shaky sigh. He tried to smile. Nico couldn’t see it, of course. But Will hoped that the smile that he was trying to put on could mask the emotion in his voice.

“So it’s not something you want, then?”

Nico stopped running his palm over Will’s chest. He pushed himself up, and used his elbow as leverage as he stared at Will. Nico cocked his head a little. Even in the darkness, Will could feel how Nico’s eyes were looking at his own, through his own.

“What made you think that I don’t want to be with you forever?” Nico asked. His voice was low but somehow it still sounded too loud in the darkness.

“I am not talking about you not wanting to be together-“

“Do you not want us to be together?”

“I do! I mean, I do want us to be together! You know I love you, Nico. I love you so much, I want to always be with you.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Will sighed. “I mean…is getting married something that you want? Or it’s not exactly something that you’re thinking about?”

Nico pressed his index finger on Will’s lips gently. There was a small smile on his own. And Will knew that it was the kind of smile that Nico kept only for Will to be the receiving end. A smile that made Will fell in love all over again.

“Let’s see if we can keep this apartment in one piece together, then we’ll think about that other stuff, okay?”

The stone inside Will’s chest melted into warm honey.

“Okay,” Will whispered. Nico gently placed a chaste kiss on Will’s lips, then he lied down again, cheek pressing against Will’s chest.

“So you’re going to say yes if I ask you to marry me?”

Nico snorted. “If you ask me the question, it’s better be in a way that made me cry in happiness.”

Will laughed and it sounded so loud in the comfortable darkness around them.

“Noted,” Will said.

“And if you’re not crying when you see me on the aisle, I am canceling the wedding.”

Will smiled as he ran his hand over Nico’s side. He kissed the top of Nico’s head.

“I love you so much, Nico. So much.”

“I love you too. Now go to sleep.”

What Nico said wasn’t exactly an answer to Will’s question. But it’s a possibility. And possibility meant hope.  So Will let the flowers of hope bloomed in his chest. He let the butterflies danced happily inside of him.

***

[three]:  The third time Will asked Nico about getting married, he screwed up. Kind of.

It’s his last day of residency, and Will couldn’t wait to go home. After collecting the needed signature for all the paperwork needed, he did another round in the hospital, saying goodbye to his patients. Being himself, Will couldn’t help but to feel some sort of emotional attachment to the children who have been under his care during the residency. And it was a bit heartbreaking to say goodbye to them. But on the other hand, he was excited to start his new job. Just a few weeks before his residency ended, Will had gotten a job offer that would start in two weeks. Looked like all those long hours of hard work finally showed some results.

Will opened the door, and walked into their apartment. It’s still the same apartment that they had lived in since Will started med-school, around seven years ago. But now that Will had secured a job and with Nico’s job, they could probably start thinking of moving into a more decent one.

Will put his keys on the cabinet. “Babe? I’m home.”

“In the kitchen!”

Will made his way to the kitchen, bringing along the bottle of wine that he got as a gift from his mentor. He could hear the sound of music coming from Nico’s phone that he put on the table. He stopped on the door frame, inhaling the delicious scent of herbs and spices. He smiled as he leaned on the door frame, relishing the sight. Nico was in front of the stove. With a spoon in his hand, he’s watching whatever it was in that he had in the pan.

Will made his way to Nico, and put an arm around Nico’s shoulder. He planted a kiss on Nico’s forehead.

“Hey,” he said as he pulled himself just a bit from Nico.

Nico’s smile was still something that made Will’s heart jumped like crazy.

“Hey,” Nico said. “You’re home. Finally.” Nico tiptoed a little so he could kiss Will’s cheek.

“I bring some wine,” Will said, showing the bottle that he was holding to Nico. “Dr. Reagan gave it to me as a farewell gift.”

“Nice,” Nico said. “I like him a lot. He’s such a nice guy.” Nico took the bottle from Will and placed a hand over Will’s chest.

“Wait here,” he said. Will raised his eyebrows. With a confused expression, his eyes followed Nico who walked to the other side of the kitchen. That’s when he saw their crystal vase on the cabinet, filled with red roses and sunflowers. Nico put the bottle next to the vase, and took one of the roses.

Will leaned on the counter, smile weaved in to his face as he watched Nico. With a rose in his hand, Nico walked towards Will. The small smile curled on Nico’s lips still sent a shiver down Will’s spine as he handed Will the rose.

“I got you flowers,” Nico said. He tiptoed to peck Will’s lip. “Congratulations on finishing your residency.“

Will wrapped his arms around Nico’s neck, as Nico looped his around Will’s waist.

“And people think I am the romantic one,” Will teased. He brought the rose to his nose and inhaled the sweet scent.

“You are,” Nico said. “The romantic one, and the annoying one,” he added,  resting the side of his face on Will’s chest. “But I am so proud of you, tesoro.”

“I love you, darling,” Will said, sealing it with a kiss on the top of Nico’s head.

“I love you too,” Nico said, pulling himself so he could look up at Will. “Now go have a shower and change your shirt.”

Will flicked Nico’s nose with the rose. “Whatever you say, darl.” He planted another kiss on Nico’s forehead before going to their bedroom to do what Nico said.

About half an hour and a fresh shirt later, he walked back into their kitchen. The vase with the flowers was now on the table that has been set up. Nico even put the nice table cloth that he usually reserved for when they had guests coming over. Nico was placing the napkins that he had folded into some complicated shape. He brushed some of his rebellious hair that fell over his forehead and looked up.

Years of being together, and still, the moment their eyes met made Will breathless.

Nico smiled. He already took off his apron, and he was wearing the gray shirt that looked so good on him. With a few wide steps, Will made his way towards Nico. He pulled Nico into his arm, and kissed his forehead.

“I am the luckiest man in the world.”

Nico chuckled, slowly running his palm over Will’s chest. “For what? For finally finishing your residency? For getting the job that you have always dreamed of?”

“For having you with me. All these times.”

“Don’t go all sappy on me, Solace. You still have to do the dishes after this.”

Will kissed the top of Nico’s head. He knew that he kissed Nico a lot but he couldn’t care less, he would do it whenever he wanted to.

For a moment, neither of them said anything. Will closed his eyes, pleased to realize how Nico’s breathing and his fell into the same rhythm. Will was pretty sure that if he put his hand over Nico’s chest, he could feel the way their heartbeat in the same rhythm too.

Then he heard the first of notes of his favorite songs coming from Nico’s phone.

Will opened his eyes, and slid down his hands from Nico’s shoulder to his hips.

“Dance with me,” Will said, started moving his hips to the tunes. Nico let out a small laugh that sounded like a heavenly music to Will’s ears.

“You suck at dancing, tesoro,” Nico said, but followed along. He looped his arms around Will’s neck, and swayed to the music.

Nico was right, of course. Will sucked at dancing, and Nico was far better. So Will let Nico lead them, as they slowly moved around their small kitchen. Nico hummed along to the song, and Will felt they were dancing on the clouds. He wished he had the magic to freeze this whole moment into a glass bubble that he would place carefully on his bedside table, right next to frame that held their picture together.

Their eyes locked and Will was just so so in love with Nico. He marveled at how Nico’s dark eyes held a twinkle, as if he kept stars behind those eyes. He stared in awe at how the tips of Nico’s lips curled up into a crescent moon, forming the most wonderful smile.

It’s been years and both of them have changed and grown so much. But they were still so much in love with each other like years before. No. Scratch that. They loved each other even more than before. Nico was the one that made Will wanted to go through another day, because he knew that Nico would be a part of it. Nico was still the one who could make him believe that everything would be alright, because they had each other. Nico would always be the one, the only one who Will could dream of having a future with.  Will could see himself holding Nico in his arms like this tomorrow, next year… Gods, Will could see them holding each other like this five, fifteen and even fifty years from now.

And it was like an epiphany for Will. That Nico was, still, and would always be the one that Will wanted to be with. Forever.

For-

“Marry me.”

Nico raised his eyebrows, looking dazed, like he didn’t really catch what Will just sad. “Huh?”

Will stopped dancing, and took both of Nico’s hand into his.

“Marry me, Nico.”

Nico looked positively confused now. He stared at Will, some strands of his dark hair falling over his wide eyes.

“Will?”

“Nico, I’m not just asking you whether you ever think of getting married someday. This time I am really asking you to marry me,” Will said, words falling out from his lips quickly as he stared back at Nico, hoping that Nico understands how much he wanted this.

He took a deep breath, then kneel down on one knee, still holding Nico’s hands.

“Niccolo Matteo di Angelo, will you marry me?”

Nico’s dark eyes stared back at Will with an expression that Will couldn’t read. Will couldn’t guess whether Nico wanted to scream in pure joy or cry or upset or maybe he wanted to hit Will on his head for being so not romantic-

Then Nico sighed and looked away from Will. “Why do you have to ruin it, Will?”

Will felt like his heart plummeted down into Tartarus. Then it struck him. The conversation they had years ago.

“Schist! I screwed up, didn’t I?”

Will stood up, feeling how his heart started cracking. He slowly rubbed his face with both hands. He was so so stupid. He should have planned it. He should have at least prepared something instead of just asking the question. Holy Hades, he hadn’t even had a ring yet!

He let out a long desperate sigh as he ran his hand over his head. He braced himself to peek at Nico. Nico still stood where he was, only one step away from Will. He still had that unreadable expression on his face. He kept his eyes at Will, head slightly tilted to the left, like he was curious about what Will about to do next.

Will took another deep breath, trying to come up with a plan.

“Nico, I am so so very sorry,” he said. “You deserve something better. And I will give it to you. You deserve nothing but the best, and what I just did wasn’t even close to something good.”

“Will-“

But Will kept on talking. A plan already formed in his head. He would fix this. He had to, he wanted to, and he would. He took Nico’s hands again, praying to whichever deities up there to have some mercy on him and help him fixing this mess that he just created.

“Nico, darling. Listen. Give me another chance, okay? Just one. One more chance. Give me twenty-four hours and I will ask you again but not in this shitty way but in whatever way you want me to. Just tell me. This time I will make it right. It will be something-“

“Will.” This time Nico put two fingers on Will’s lips to stop him from talking. “Stop.”

So Will stopped talking. For a second. The moment Nico took away his fingers from his lips, he blurted out a question.

“Are you mad at me?”

It looked like Nico was holding back a smile when he shook his head. “No, Will. I’m not mad at you.”

Will’s chest felt lighter. He opened his mouth, ready to repeat his pleas of having another chance but Nico was quicker.

“Will, listen to me.”

Will blinked.

“I need to tell you something.”

Gods. This must be it, Will thought. He must have screwed up so bad and this must be the part where Nico was going to tell him that it’s all over now.

“Are you breaking up with me?”

Nico’s eyes widened again. “What? No! What makes you think so?”

“Because I screwed up! And you told me that I ruined it but believe me Nico, we could fix it. We could-“

“Will, for the love of Apollo and all his Muses, would you please listen to me?”

Will shut up.

Nico took a deep breath, and took Will’s hand. He squeezed it. “Now, wait here, okay?”

Will nodded. Nico pecked his cheek and let go of Will’s hands. Will watched as Nico walked to the cabinets, the one where he kept his precious herbs and spices. It’s one of the cabinets that Will never touched. Nico loved cooking and he treasured the herbs and spices that he kept there. He had his own system in arranging the bottles and packages in the cabinet, and Will had learned the hard way that Nico would know if any of the bottles moved for even just half-an-inch.

Nico opened the cabinet and took something from it. Will started to wonder how would some Italian herbs and spices had anything to do with what just happened. Then as he watched Nico who was walking back towards him, he finally saw what it was that Nico held in his hand.

Will gasped.

Nico stopped in front of Will, his dark eyes were soft but also full of determination.

There was a small, amused smile on Nico’s lips as he held up the small box on his hand for Will to see.

“I have already planned to be the one asking you the question. But you ruined it.”

Will’s hand flew to his mouth. He had no idea how he was still standing when his legs felt like they were turned into overcooked spaghetti. He had no idea how on earth he was still breathing when he was about to burst into millions of glitters and confetti.

Nico flipped the box open. A pair of golden rings stood out on the dark blue velvet of the box. There was a thin black stripe around the middle of each ring.

Nico took Will’s left hand and held it firmly in his.

“Will, you are the one who stayed with me. The one who asked me to stay. The one who gave me a reason to stay. You are the one that made me feel my life is something worth to live in. I don’t know whether it was fate or anything that made us found each other, I am just glad that we did.”

Will tried to hold his tears, but a stubborn one still rolled out of his eyes.

“With you, everything felt a bit easier. Life was not easy. It would never be easy for us. But with you, it’s more bearable. And I can only think of you when I try to think of the future.”

Still holding Will’s hand in his, Nico kneeled down on one knee.

“William Lucian Solace, will you marry me?”

Will smiled but that smile wasn’t even close to what he was feeling now.

“Do you even have to ask?”

“Just answer the question, tesoro. You’ve ruined half of my plan so I would really appreciate it if you don’t ruin the other half.”

“Yes, Nico. Yes.”

The half-crescent moon weaved its way back to Nico’s lips as he took one of the rings from the box, and put it on the floor. He gently slid the ring into Will’s finger, then brought Will’s hand to his lips to kiss the knuckles.

Nico took the box back and stood up. Will took the other ring out. His hands were slightly shaky as he took Nico’s left hand, but as he slid the ring into Nico’s finger, he knew that this was one of the best things that ever happened to him in his life.

He brought Nico’s hand to his lips, and kissed the knuckles. The gold felt cold against his lips, and Nico’s eyes that were staring at him were warm. Will’s heart swelled and it felt like his chest was about to explode with this blissful, heavenly feeling.

Will wrapped his around Nico,  kissing him like it was the only thing that kept him alive. Somewhere at the back of his head, he half-heard the sound of the box fell on the floor but then everything was forgotten as he felt Nico cupping his cheeks, kissing him back.

Nico slowly pulled away, but he gently put his finger on Will’s lips, like he was trying to touch the taste of the kiss left there.  Will opened his eyes, and kissed Nico’s forehead. Nico leaned his cheek on Will’s chest, and let Will wrapped his arms around him.

“I’m sorry that I ruined your plan,” Will said.

Nico chuckled. “It’s okay. You only ruined half of it.”

“And I’m sorry for not being romantic when proposing.”

Nico pulled away just a little. He kissed the tip of Will’s nose. “Nothing to be sorry for, tesoro. You’re just being you, and that’s what I love the most about you.”

He rested his head on Will’s shoulder. “Besides, you have your twenty-four hours to fix your proposal,” he teased.

Will laughed. “Okay. But when I do it, can you wear that grey sweater that you got from Hazel? I love it when you wear it.”

Nico snorted. But Will could feel he nodded.

“Noted,” Nico said. “And if there’s any dancing involved in the proposal, let me know first what song we’ll be dancing to.”

+++

Author’s Notes 1. It’s been a while since the last time I wrote fics. I know that my writing is a bit rusty, but hopefully this won’t be the last one. 2. Thank you so so much for reading. It means a lot :) 3. Tell me what you think about this :D 4. I kind of imagined that the song that they danced to was What A Heavenly Way to Die by Troye Sivan. Or maybe Always by Panic!at the Disco. But if you have other ideas, let me know :D

[demonfox38]

Completed - Faxanadu

So, at the end of my last post game evaluation, I brought up "Faxanadu" as a better alternative to "Zelda II: The Adventure of Link." I honestly don't know if that's a controversial opinion or not. On the surface, I can see that raising the gall of a lot of dyed-in-the-wool Nintendo fans. Like, how dare I lift the third-party product over something created by Nintendo itself. And, to be honest, I can feel that contradiction. "Faxanadu" looks worse, sounds worse, and plays just a bit stiffer than "Zelda II." Why would I like this game more if it is an inferior product?

Well, in this case, it all comes down to attitude.

"Faxanadu" is a weird little offshoot from a prestigious pedigree. Directly, it's a spin-off/side story to "Dragon Slayer II: Xanadu" of the "Dragon Slayer" series. I'm guessing that if you are as familiar with Japanese computer RPGs from the 1980s—that is to say, knowledgeable by the name alone—you might recognize its sister games "Sorcerian" for its lovely soundtrack and "Tokyo Xanadu" from a list of titles available on Steam. But, hey. TL;DR—"Dragon Slayer II: Xanadu" sold 400,000 game copies in 1985, so Nintendo was all too happy to get a slice of that pie. In the translation from computer to Famicom ("Faxanadu"? Get it?), the adaptation lost its RPG battles and became a more stream-lined action platformer with some vestigial RPG elements.

Sounds strange? It kind of is. Just think "Zelda II" without death pits.

Adding to the uniqueness of this game is its peculiar plot. In "Faxanadu", your PC is charged with stopping a horde of extra-terrestrial forces and dwarves hopped up on meteor dust from killing all of the elves living alongside them on the World Tree. It's like the Yggdrasil myth meets "Night of the Comet." Very, very 1980s in its mix of mythology and weird space shit.

The game itself is as you might expect from an action platformer. Move around locations, purchase equipment, fight, keep moving until you find the final boss. The weirdness of it flakes off a little bit at a time. Like, those experience points you accumulate? They don't go into stat improvements. You talk to a guru (a priest dude) to bank them in and earn a title. This will aid you when/if you die, as the game will drop your corpse off at the last guru you visited with a preset amount of money based on how awesome your title is. Dying can be a great way to warp around, as well as to get your ass back to full health for free. Hell, you don't even lose accumulated items if you die. (Although, if you use a key, that’s gone for good. You may have to purchase a few extra if you die in the wrong spot.) Death isn't always the best strategy, but it can help in the right circumstances.

Frankly, the game is very chill about your failure. Pretty much everything else, too.

The mellow atmosphere of "Faxanadu" is something to be appreciated. Even if most people have given up on their home being saved, they're more than alright sitting around, smoking and drinking and chatting you up. (God bless, there are so many smokers in this game.) People are constantly telling you to not try too hard to save their asses, as well as encouraging meditation and keeping calm in the face of defeat. Not to be crass, but it makes you wonder if people have something other than tobacco in their cigarettes.

Let's be honest. If they were toking, it would explain a few laughable bugs.

Oh, man. You've got to hear about these errors. Like, I know register mathematics and assembly coding is a bitch, but this game makes some choice mistakes. Like, that title system I mentioned earlier? You're supposed to be given more time to use special items like hourglasses and winged boots when your title increases in rank. In execution, the opposite happens. The more monsters you kill, the less time you're given on the clock to use cool shit. It doesn't ever lock you out of an area, but it is something to keep in mind. Additionally, there's this pendant that you're supposed to get in the second area that should increase your attack power. However, the game already thinks you have that equipped at the start, so when you get it, that attack boost gets turned off. That's right. Take the pretty necklace and you do less damage. I mean, hey. You don't want to get it accidentally broken, do you?

This game isn't particularly bright in the aesthetics department, either. Most of the color palette is brown, green, cream, and salmon. Character portraits have this weird animation when they talk to you where their blinking and speaking is desynced in a disturbing fashion. Hell, of the allegedly dwarven enemies, I can only point to one or two enemies that I believe are dwarves. The music is a little better than average for the NES, but nothing I'd put in a playlist (minus the opening theme, which is an awesome fantasy rip.) I mean, it's sure better than the "Dragon Slayer II: Xanadu" footage I saw on YouTube, but it's not exactly a feast for the eyes and ears. Even platforming and movement of your PC is a bit stiff. Also, this uses password systems to save instead of batteries. Which, hey, fine by me. But, it's definitely cheaper than using a battery, and I know a lot of people find passwords to be difficult or annoying to use.

So, if this is an inferior looking and feeling product in comparison with "Zelda II", why do I like this one more?

Well, the chillness factor, for one. The difficulty in this game is much more manageable as well. You can carry several healing potions on you, and there are classes of enemies you can farm for food to get your health up in dire straits. Hell, there's even an elixir that will auto-pop on you if you take too much damage. Additionally, screwing up platforming doesn't automatically kill you. It might make you have to take a few rooms to get back to where you were trying to go, but it's not a kiss of death.

Yeah, this one's easier, for sure. But, I don't feel like it's purposefully wasting my time, either. The cash for most equipment upgrades can be ground out within ten or fifteen minutes, if you're willing to put in the time. You can skip certain locations, if you really don't want to deal with their hassle. Granted, skipping too much could cost you the best equipment, and you certainly need that to fight the final boss. But, the trials you face to get that aren't the worst. Hell, getting the Dragon Slayer itself becomes retroactively sad and metal once you figure out just what you were fighting to get it.

There are important things to do, sure. Nobody's on your ass if you screw up. The NPCs want you to succeed, and they want you to do so with a clear head (and an empty purse, in some cases.) It's the kind of game where you take an afternoon or two to knock out. Nothing overwrought, nothing dramatic. Just you and a handful of Keebler Elves fighting back cosmic horrors that have taken over the neighbors.

It would be interesting to know the scale of this world. The dwarves don't seem to be that much shorter than the elves, so I have to wonder if everybody's just four feet tall or something.

I'm almost certain that I picked this up off eBay decades ago after reading either a genre list or recommendation list on GameFAQs. Even now, the price on it is cheap. (Of course, ROMs are free, but it's a $10.00 cart.) This was a better game than what I would normally get out of my other source of NES games—that is to say, the K-Mart bargain bin (which may have been leftover stock the company bought from FuncoLand? Not sure.) Long story short, this game is relatively short, cheap, and fulfilling. If you need something retro and easy going, this game might do the trick. It might not blow your socks off, but it won't blow your head off, either.

[spoiledsovls]

@neonvein --- called for a birthday starter !!!

he got lucky today. he wasn’t a really good flirt for the most part; gunwoo would trip over his words if they weren’t rehearsed and set in stone like his lyrics were. it was hard to practice pick up lines- he didn’t even want to use them and wanted to be sincere when asking for a girl’s number (or well, anyone he was attracted to.) it made him nervous, hands clammy when she put it down in his phone. he looks at the name - rebekah. ah. maybe she lived abroad, it didn’t really matter. there was no language barrier to him - at least since he’s fluent in english and korean. if it was another language.. maybe he’d be screwed. he’s back at his apartment, pressing the ‘call’ button, hearing the line pick up on the other side. “hey, rebekah. it’s me, gunwoo. i’ve never really.. asked for someone’s number before but i’m glad you gave it to me. i was wondering if you’d want to-- go out for coffee sometime? or ramen? two different ends of the spectrum but.. i don’t quite know your taste palette. you’re free to decide on other options though!” 

[comicteaparty]

January 22nd-January 28th, 2020 Reader Favorites Archive

The archive for the Reader Favorites chat that occurred from January 22nd, 2020 to January 28th, 2020.  The chat focused on the following question:

How do you react to comics going on hiatus, and how does that affect your readership for it?

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Being a webcomic artist, I'm always very understanding when an author needs a break. Life happens, and most of us are hobbyists. I will wait as long as it takes for the comic to come back, even if that means years. I'll keep checking in every few months unless the artist makes a post saying the comic is dead and they're moving on (and if 'moving on' means starting a new comic, I'll usually start following it). I have quite a few life circumstances that have forced long hiatuses of my own comics, so I feel it would be a tad hypocritical of me to give up on a comic that needs a long break or has to update very infrequently for a while. Also since I have trouble following a lot of comics at once, my reading list is fairly short and it's easier for me to be very dedicated to and patient with the comics I do read.(edited)

snuffysam (Super Galaxy Knights)

Even before I started doing webcomics, I knew it wasn't the end of the world when a comic went on hiatus. Like, it's free entertainment, I don't blame the author for not sticking to a specific schedule. As for if it affects my readership... yeah? I usually stop checking in after a year or so if a comic hasn't had any updates, and even in that time I don't check up very often. And I don't often re-read hiatus'd comics until they come back off hiatus (as a sort of refresher) so they don't usually get my readership that way either.

varethane

I don't have any hard feelings when creators go on hiatus, whatever their reasons; life happens, webcomics are a lot of work for (often) little compensation, and people's priorities change over time. It's fine. I am one of those readers who is often prone to having a short attention span, though, so I confess that if a comic goes on hiatus and its creator isn't active on social media, there's a pretty good chance I'll lose track of it. And if the comic returns after a hiatus of more than a year, it may take some months before I will come back as a reader, just because I would need to reread the story in order to catch back up with what's going on.

SAWHAND

I don't tend to keep up with webcomics on a day-to-day basis anyway. I prefer to wait and then be able to binge-read a whole chapter or at least a few pages at a time. I actually really like when comics do a brief hiatus in between chapters to build up a backlog of pages and then post a lot of pages quickly (more than someone usually would do anyway) and then go back on hiatus. Kind of like seasons on tv.

Deo101 [Millennium]

I just had a hiatus that went longer than a year so I can't really fault an artist for needing a break. I understand, and also it doesnt bother me too much because I just read whenever there is an update, it's not like I'm checking at the scheduled time or anything! When it updates, I'll be there.

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

Life happens, circumstances change, people grow. So many of us are making webcomics at very transformative times of our lives - we can outgrow the stories, get tired of them, or begin to associate them with bad memories (poor artistic partnerships, commercial failures, etc). If a really good webcomic I follow goes on hiatus, of course I'll be disappointed. But behind every webcomic is an author with a life. If the webcomic is keeping their life from improving, then screw the webcomic. I'm always far more concerned about the person.(edited)

I get SO much joy watching webcomics come back after a long hiatus. It's worth any sadness felt during the hiatus itself. And I'm not happy just because the story is back - but because it's a sign that the author has taken care of themselves. You can often feel it in the new pages. It's really cool and good to see.

2

January 23, 2020

Kabocha

I think it depends on the comic. I prefer it when a creator can say, "hey, I'm going on hiatus" so I know to stop checking (or to set my expectations accordingly). They don't necessarily have to post an end date, but if they can, that's always good! Sometimes creators just stop updating, and that's fine too. But one's comic's site is going to be the central hub for anything regarding your comic's news, too. There are some comics where... I'm a little less understanding of hiatuses with complete silence -- and these are usually ones that have an actual publisher backing them and paying for the project's completion. Like, I get that life gets in the way, but when making said comic is your job -- or you have a perceived contractual obligation, maybe your publisher ought to step up and say something if the project is on hold or delayed or something. There's something about the line between "I am doing this project for free and the occasional donation" versus "I am getting paid for this project's completion as a product" that kind of... I dunno, makes the whole thing feel a little different? Like, sure, it might be up for free online, but like... when there's an actual publisher or platform paying the creator to make it it and they've got editors and stuff... It's less like someone's brain baby and more like a product. I actually have a folder in my favorites for comics on hiatus, but ArchiveBinge also tells me when they updated last, so... Not a huge deal. My ability or desire to read a project isn't hugely affected by a comic's status on hiatus, but I have found with some comics that come back years after going on a break... Well, I've changed enough that I'm no longer their target audience. And it can suck to realize that.

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

@LadyLazuli (Phantomarine) Oh man, your comment about being able to feel that an author has taken care of themselves after coming back from a long hiatus reminded me of when I once returned a comic from a 3 year long hiatus. I had put it on hiatus after a ‘friend’ completely ripped it apart and essentially called it trash. I was already going through some really bad stuff IRL and I lost all motivation to keep going. But three years later I came back, and the colours in the pages were so much brighter and more vibrant. The change was so obvious a reader actually gave me an impassioned speech about how the previous muted, greyish palette was a a better fit for the story. But only a few pages later they changed their mind and said they were wrong; the more vivid colours worked after all. I think maybe they could see how happy I was to be working on it again.... and maybe just how much happier I was in general. Sorry for the long anecdote; that second paragraph just really hit home for me. (edited)

MJ Massey

I think it depends on a few factors for me. In general I am pretty understanding of hiatus in general - it can be really good for the creator to take a break and set things in order for themselves as well as putting out work they enjoy rather than rushing to get a page out. Especially if this is someone's side gig. I appreciate it all the more if the creator can be honest. Even if they can't give a return date, coming out and saying "I can't work on this comic right now" is enough and perfectly fine

I get annoyed if someone who is PAID to make a comic just disappears and won't take responsibility. If it's your job, then you can't just run away from it. Again, even saying something like "I cannot work on the comic for now" is fine, but don't just run off and make some vague remarks on your social media that's not even where your readers normally engage with you.

I also agree that any partners, like a publisher or editor, that might be employing said artist could also step up and let readers know what's going on. If any of that happens, I am happy to wait as long as it takes

Readers are more understanding than you think, it's okay to just come out and say you're gonna miss updates, need time off, etc. You don't need to say anything more than that.

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

I'm not quite understanding the hostility towards people who get paid for creating webcomics, but hiatuses aren't something i could really call our personal business to make any calls regarding their obligations. Like @LadyLazuli (Phantomarine) said, life happens and circumstances change. I'm pretty sure whomever the creator is with has their own reasons as creative projects evolve differently for everyone and that their parties concerned have dealt with it in a necessary way. That is just the nature of them, we won't know or understand the full picture, and while i get being disappointed, it's not something that can be helped! I encourage hiatuses in fact, because webcomics are A LOT of work!! It can give the creator time for revisions, writing the story, and general self reflection of the project. I've stated this before on twitter, but ppl tend to forget that webcomics are typically made by 1-2 ppl and can produce the quality/quantity easily created by a small studio. Take a break!

Kabocha

It's not a hostility thing necessarily, but I do think that when, like, an actual publisher is involved, there should be some sort of expectation of... I dunno, communication? Traditionally published books and such get delayed (and canceled), but usually there's some form of communication as to the change in release dates or if it's going to come out at all. I think that's more or less the expectation with something that's being paid for by a publisher: That there's some form of communication between the audience regarding the story's state or future. It doesn't have to be a total "HI THIS IS MY LIFE" just more of a "hi the comic's on hold". But hiatuses, I think, are maybe different than a break? As a creator, I traditionally take a break between chapters to do editing and such, but I think a hiatus tends to be more... unplanned for. (and I'm not exempt from going on hiatus - I've had issues this winter that made it necessary for me to tell my readers "hi I'm not updating until april". So I'm sympathetic to health/life -- but I do think a "hi the comic's on hold" on the comic's site is warranted in a lotta cases.)

(or hell, even a "the comic's canceled" is fine too hoo boy, I just saw one that I wasn't aware of that got canceled for life issues... I feel for the creators.)

RebelVampire

I'm kind of on the higher standard for creators who are being paid to do it as a job train. At least a higher standard of communication. Cause I never really consider the hiatus itself the problem, but how the author communicates about the hiatus. Cause again, when being paid to do something, I just kind of expect more professionalism, and communication is a huge part of professionalism.

Kabocha

I think webcomics with a publisher -- like, an actual "hi we are paying you to produce this work" that isn't just patreon -- it's more of a commercial work. In one of the cases I have in mind, they're paid to do it per-page, through a well-known webcomics publisher. Sure, the creator loses out, because they're not being paid, but it is also a commercial work in the end. They have an editor, ostensibly someone to communicate with them and the manager, and went through some sort of acquisitions process to sell the work to that publisher. Kinda like the difference between "hi this is my fanfic" versus "hi this is my book that I got put through a small press pub"

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

I agree. Ghosting your paying customers is very unprofessional. Just informing readers that there’s a break or cancellation feels necessary if money’s involved. I‘d feel pretty burned if a comic I was pledging for on patreon just stopped updating for more than a few months without any communication whatsoever. A quick note that says ‘Hey, my comic is on break for an indeterminate amount of time because I need to take care of some things / am creatively exhausted / whatever other vague reason’ and I would understand. But if I’m paying the creator and they just vanish without a word, you can bet I won’t trust them enough to pay them again even if they come back later.

RebelVampire

Yeah. Those are my feels too. That it doesn't even need to be some essay message. It's just the giving a heads up so you're not sitting there staring wondering if someone fell into the abyss.

Nutty (Court of Roses)

You can say Tessa Stone, it's okay.

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

I... I don’t know who that is?

Nutty (Court of Roses)

She was the author of Hanna is Not a Boy's Name. Very popular webcomic, did a kickstarter for a book, then vanished with the money, and reappeared four years later working for another company.

Kabocha

That's... Not who was in mind.

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Oh wow that’s scummy.

I’d read the comic waaaaay back but dropped it long before there was a KS.

Nutty (Court of Roses)

Yeah. Other than that, I always understand when hiatuses happen, we all have lives outside our comics.

RebelVampire

Professional comics aside, overall, for me, my reaction to a comic going on hiatus depends on a ton of factors. I will preface this first part, is that I'm always understanding of it. Life happens, interests change, etc. etc. etc. I would never tell a creator not to go on hiatus or that they were magically a bad creator or something for needing to stop for a bit (or indefinitely). People should take care of themselves both physically and emotionally first, so I get why hiatuses happen. That being said, I as a reader also have my own life. And the fact of the matter is, there are thousands of comics out there to read - many of which are not on hiatus. So I'd be lying if I said a hiatus had no effect on whether I'd continue to read a comic. That being said, it's not like a hiatus will make me instantly drop a comic either. This is where the many factors come in. Like how much do I love the comic? Has the creator communicated about the length of the hiatus and given a heads up? Does the comic have a very unreliable history of hiatusing and coming back and then immediately hiatusing etc.. Which again, I get and sympathize with creators and hiatuses. But there's a point where you just gotta move on if the comic's updating isn't to your liking.

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

also i just want to chime in and say that as one of those people who get paid to make my comic i don't appreciate it being called commercial work. It's still the creators property and honestly the money earned doesn't change the product, nor should it change the 'merit' of a hiatus. Hiatuses are also planned and not planned. They are both breaks and unseen stops in work, they are necessary and needed- much like vacation time or sick leave at other jobs. Having been paid for making comics shouldn't differ with who is more worthy of one. Again, they all happen with reasons the public doesn't need to fully know bc even if the work is produced 'free to read', it's still not an obligation to the readers for any full disclosure. I get being dissapointed, it's a work you enjoy, but like any type of work, schedules change, lives conflict, and projects get canceled.

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

I don’t think anyone is saying that we mind hiatuses when comic artists are being paid, we all explicitly stated we mind poor communication about it from the creator

Big difference

varethane

the main thing I look sideways at is a creator who ghosts their existing audience and goes incommunicado for years, and then returns with either the same product or something very similar. I'm not so much mad, as.... unlikely to keep reading their work, even once it's back? Or I'll have trouble convincing myself to dive back in, even if it still looks like it should be my thing. I'm thinking of a specific comic I used to read called Astray3, which stopped updating with no news updates sometime in like..... 2011? And then after a year or so the website went down, and I assumed that was just.... it, the creator had left comics. Then just this year I was thinking about it while talking to friends and did a google search, and discovered that it was back On a new webhost, totally rebooted and fresh, with gorgeous new art

I had no idea, lol. I guess it had been back for maybe a year or two? It's really beautiful, and if I'd found it fresh I'd probably be super excited to dive in, but I haven't gotten around to it yet and that's the only real reason I can think of as to why.

This is a personal thing though. I don't know why all that happened or what led the creator to shelve the comic, I bear them no hard feelings. I just..... may or may not start reading again (maybe I will when I get some time!! Who knows lol)

keii4ii

@varethane I gotta say I'm sort of guilty of that. I stopped working on my previous comic after I'd gotten pretty far in the story. Things happened IRL and I just couldn't keep working on that story. My main site host died (the hosting business closed), and I didn't leave a proper goodbye on my SJ mirror. Then a few years later, I came back elsewhere with a new comic. X'D I don't really have a point here (yet?), just waving a hand from the other side of the fence.

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

@Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios) im responding to the commercial work comment

varethane

I don't even really think there IS a fence, lol. There are so many reasons why I may or may not read a comic, up to and including how I happen to feel on a given day; when I read something really often has more to do with my mood than with how much I feel like it 'should' appeal to me, so long breaks in updates are just one more ingredient in the big old soup of 'will I jump into this story today'

keii4ii

Yeah, readers come and go all the time, for all sorts of reasons

Deo101 [Millennium]

I'd also like to wave my hand from the side of the fence of "basically going completely radio silent" I did it because I had an incredibly difficult personal experience, that I didnt really want to share with all of my readers, and I don't think I should HAVE to share what happened in order for it to be valid for me to have dropped off like that for a while.

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

Exactly what Deo said

varethane

while I agree you don't need to say why, a quick news update saying 'hey something came up and this won't update for awhile, maybe forever' would be appreciated in a lot of cases

snuffysam (Super Galaxy Knights)

but the thing is, nobody said you have to say what happened It doesn't have to be a total "HI THIS IS MY LIFE" just more of a "hi the comic's on hold". like it's the difference between saying "there won't be updates for a while" and just leaving the comic hanging on the latest page with no comment.

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Yeah, I don’t think anyone needs to leave a reason. But if people are paying you, just a ‘Hey this is on a break’ to the audience.

Deo101 [Millennium]

I did say "hi I'm gonna be on hiatus!" and people did still get upset with me for being gone so long so :/

snuffysam (Super Galaxy Knights)

well they were rude

varethane

I don't read anything as obsessively as I used to, but one of the first webcomics I ever read trailed off forever with 'see you next week!' as the last news update lmao

I went back to that homepage like a million times

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

Theres no winning with it honestly. I haven't had a hiatus with my comic im working on now, but a previous one earned us threats when we had a break

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

People getting upset isn’t your fault. You communicated, and that’s all you needed to do. We all know some readers can be fickle or downright rude.(edited)

Deo101 [Millennium]

IN THEIR DEFENSE i did say "brief hiatus" cause the situation around it was really weird, and then it was a very not brief one

varethane

no excuse for bein rude about it tho >:U sorry to hear about that!

keii4ii

Yeeeah

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

The threats that we got and harassment definitely made me realize that you don't owe ppl any thing. It's your work, and at the end of the day, you're the one in charge. We literally don't know the reasons to the breaks of a fave creator, it could be something as simple as boredom to something dire. I again i understand the want for communication but there are times where it just doesn't come first or at all.

I think in the situation of finding a ks or something u paid for directly? Yes, you deserve that right to know. But a project that isn't going to affect u in that way, well, it's a mystery we're not owed sometimes

Deo101 [Millennium]

yeah I'm just gonna get back to making it, and if people are going to leave and be upset with me I... cant control that... so I shouldnt try or worry about it. just offering the perspective of someone who p much did drop off the face of the earth

oh yeah for something youve paid for its different

Kabocha

Allow me to say that when I say commercial work, I mean it strictly in a "This is a thing that you are making money or aiming to turn a profit from." That's it. There's a difference in expectations, I think, for something where the creator is doing it as their job vs the creator doing it as a hobby. (but also -- like, if you have a publisher or an agent, they should be stepping in to help you field things like communication!!)

But also yes -- my essential point is that communication is key.

And yes, there is an overlap between hobby and earning money off said hobby, but once a thing is available for consumption as something you're earning income off of, I think the expectations ought to be slightly different. I think it's fair to expect someone to say "hi I'm taking a break" on the comic site. Edited to clarify the "income" part of this -- I mean like, a significant portion of your income. Tips are always appreciated, but don't generate an obligation in any sense of the imagination imo. Or like. Yanno, a publishing deal? I dunno. But that gets into contractual stuff.(edited)

spacerocketbunny

As long as someone didn't literally run off with your money, I think a bit more empathy and compassion can be exercised, even if the only communication that's provided is radio silence. It just happens man, sometimes life sucks and you don't get to have a word in edge-wise. There's just so many factors as to why it can happen, it's not a divide between who does and doesn't get a paycheck for their work. Stuff happens and at the end of the day it's still free content that's available to you.

Like @RebelVampire said too, it's totally up to you what you do with your engagement when hiatuses come up

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

Agreed

Basically, i hope that if ever the case a creator drops from their project without notice or any word, readers express concern and compassion

Kabocha

That is a fair expectation -- and readers need to remember not to be jerks about it.

Mei

Reading through all of this was super interesting. I think hiatuses are just something that in a medium like webcomics is something to almost 'expect'? if that makes sense? Whether it's because of personal reasons, or work reasons, or any reason that we as readers are not privy to, I think it's part of the process. Of course it's great when creators mention they're going on a hiatus, but I suppose it's also having that understanding that sometimes creators may lose the drive or motivation for what they're creating, and they need a break from it. But yeah, I think it'd be awesome for readers to show understanding for webcomics going on hiatus for a short while or indefinitely. They're a LOT of work and most of the time life takes precedent over that?

RebelVampire

I just want to add myself that jerk readers are a diff issue all together and they are legit not the readers you should care about. Cause at the end of the day, you will never ever make them happy whether you communicate or not. So ignore them and do what you need. The communication is for everyone else who isn't rude and likes your comic (whether a vocal fan or a silent fan). Cause frankly, I think it also shows a certain amount of respect as well for readers when the author communicates their status. But just to clarify in case it wasn't clear in my own statement, you are not obligated to share your life story. TBH, I don't even read people's life essays for their reasons in a lot of cases cause it's their personal business. The reasons for the hiatus are largely irrelevant. But you can still leave a small message that says "Hey I'm not gonna be updating for a bit." Like that's not an exaggeration. That's all you have to say. XD Last, I do want to add, of course there are exceptions to this with extenuating circumstances. Like I know a few people who have had all means of communication break for them - and that of course is understandable then. Since it's not that they didn't want to communicate, it's that they literally had no choice in the matter.