#anyhow have a good night and all that jazz~

[zkretchy]

Anyhow Stranger Things still got me in a chokehold so here is another piece but this time with only 4 out of everyone Which is still a lot for me but hey-some months are like 10 small pieces, others are like 2 big ones This month it’s more the latter

also it’s really weird to be in a huge fandom compared to what I am used to-y’all are fast and do so so SO much work in like seconds how the hell-

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

A First Time for Everything (18+ Short Fic)

Pairing: Poly Pro!KirishimaBakugouMina x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: You and your girlfriend Mina have been dating for three amazing years. You couldn’t ask for a better partner–someone who is supportive, loving, and willing to explore new things with you…including in the bedroom. So, after a UA High 5-year reunion when you run into THE Katsuki Bakugou and Eijrou Kirishima, two of the top pros in the game and your old crushes, you don’t expect those past butterflies to come rushing back. And when you find out Mina, Kiri, and Bakugou feel the same, you decide to embark on the journey of experiencing your first-ever foursome and possible polyamorous romance.

Warnings: Smutty Smut, 18+ (MINORS GO AWAY), Unprotected PIV Sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT), Adult!KiriBakuMina (both are in their late 20s), Alcohol Consumption, Consensual, FOURSOOOME, Poly Romance, Daddy Kink, Deepthroating/Facefucking, Cunnilingus, Spanking, Hair Pulling, Clit Stimulation, Choking, Multiple Positions, Praise Kink, Light Degradation, Couch Sex, Creampies, Facials, Aftercare 

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: Hiiiiiiii :) I’m back with yet ANOTHER smutty-ass poly short MHA fic cuz I’m a smutty-ass person. This fic is only seven chapters or so cuz I didn’t feel like writing all that lol. Anyhow, I hope y’all enjoy! I appreciate any comments or criticism so feel free to drop any. Love y’all! -Jazz

CHAPTERS: ONE. TWO. THREE. FOUR.

AO3 Link HERE!

**********

CHAPTER ONE

You’d never felt more nervous than you do now standing at the threshold of Dynamight and Red Riot’s ridiculously huge and beautiful home, your hand wrapped tightly in your girlfriend’s.

The two top pro heroes’ home makes your and your partner Mina’s condo look like shit. Your eyes roam over the glass windows and balconies on the upper floors; the large pool and two large cabanas on the patio covered by the tarp to protect from the rain; the personal tennis and basketball courts you can see from your spot at the steps, facing the door. It is truly the epitome of wealth.

It also reminds you that you’re about to enter the home of two pros who you’ve also been crushing on since they hit the scene. It’s a stupid, schoolgirl crush, like the ones you have on celebrities and dreamy characters in books and TV shows. It’s one your girlfriend teases you about often, especially since she knows them so well.

Mina, with her gorgeous, golden eyes and supportive smile, glances at you as you stand together under the overcast clouds in the warm summer night. “Ready?” she asks gently. “We should go inside now before the storm starts. Kiri said we’re free to stay to wait it out later if we want.”

You haven’t even started the night yet and yet the talk of a “later” makes you flush in your light cardigan and sundress that feel soft against your bare thighs and legs. Mina had helped you pick out the outfit and you paired it with some nice simple flats. Your makeup is on the softer side, not wanting to go dramatic for a simple home-cooked dinner and movie.

Mina is much different. She went for a turquoise mini dress that hugs her toned body and shows off her legs, right down to her painted toes peeking out of her open-toed sandals. She looks damn good and you made that known to her during the car ride over with your hand on her thigh and your lips on hers.

The day leading up to tonight wasn’t as bad, with so many tasks and duties distracting you enough to not think about it. But with everything now coming to fruition, you’re less than ready, even though you had agreed to it with enthusiasm. Mina, noticing that you haven’t answered, drops your hand and twists you around. “You’ve got that look on your face,” she comments. You blink at her, confused. “What look?”

“That look you get when you’re deep in thought,” she replies, her tone firm. “Talk to me, babe. What’s wrong? Do you not wanna do this? Because we can turn around right now and–”

“No!” you immediately reply in a frantic snap. She blinks at you, surprised. You sigh deeply, feeling bad for acting like this. After all, you and she are really here because of you. For the past month since that UA High reunion, you and Mina have embarked on a very interesting and very intoxicating voyage that led right to Dynamight and Red Riot.

The reunion was sometime in late April and every person who graduated from UA was in attendance, including Class A-1. Mina took you as her date to celebrate your two-year relationship and to introduce you to old friends and teachers. You had seen some people you were excepting to come, but what you didn’t expect to see at all was Katsuki Bakugou and Ejirou Kirishima.

You had literally bumped into Bakugou while getting yourself a glass of punch from the snack table after an hour of dancing with Mina and the A-1 girls to the music that just seemed to get better and better with every transition. You didn’t quite see where you were going and bumped right into hard muscle and flesh.

“Oh, my God, I’m so sorry!” you immediately apologized. “I didn’t even see…” Your words died in your throat as soon as you looked up into the vermillion eyes and scowl of Bakugou who looked dapper in his burgundy button-down, suit jacket, and tailored pants. He was tall with piercings in his eyebrow and ear and his unruly blonde hair was styled into an undercut that fit him well.

“…you,” you finished, the word coming out of your lips like an exhale.

Bakugou didn’t say anything. He just continued to fix you with that look, similar to that of the old days. You expected him to start yelling at you and call you a dumbass as Mina said he usually did with people he thought were extras back when they were teens, and you mentally braced yourself for the public humiliation of knocking into Dynamight, pro hero number two.

But instead, Bakugou’s face broke as he began to laugh, throwing his head back. “Aw, man!” he cackled. “You should’ve seen your face! You looked like you were gonna piss yourself!” He doubled over, still laughing hysterically.

You stood there, not sure what to do or say. “Katsuki!” someone yelled from behind you. The voice was deep and raspy, similar to Bakugou’s but a bit higher and very familiar to you. You turned to see none other than Ejirou Kirishima in all of his big broadness. He wore a black V-neck that stretched over his broad chest and big pecs that should’ve been illegal, dress slacks, and a burgundy jacket that matched Bakugou’s a little too well.

As he got closer, you mapped out his features: his hair was long, pulled into a low bun; he had his own piercings as well, including in both ears, his eyebrow, and his nipples that you could clearly see through the thin fabric of his shirt; and he was rocking black stubble on his chin and upper lip that resembled a goatee that looked absolutely, ridiculously sexy on him. “Is he bothering you, miss?” he asked gently. “Sorry. He’s a little tipsy.”

You were at a loss for words, too shook to speak. Your heart hammered against your chest, as fast as a hummingbird’s wings. Desperately, you searched for words, but you were luckily saved by your girlfriend. “Kiri!” Mina shouted from behind Katsuki as she raced off the dance floor. “Katsuki!”

Kiri’s crimson eyes widened at the sight of his old friend. “Mina Ashido!” he hollered. “Fuck, girl, it’s been forever!” He swooped in to embrace her, taking her right off the ground. She squealed, wrapping her arms and legs around him before he put her down. “How have you been?” he asked happily. “Pro work treating you well? Fuck, you look amazing! You been growing your hair out?”

“Oi, shitty-hair,” Bakugou grumbled, nudging Kiri hard with his elbow. “Relax with the third degree, huh? You just ran into the girl.” He smirked down at her. “What’s up, shorty? You gonna give me a hug or what?”

Mina giggled and swooped in for a hug, earning a squeeze from Bakugou and his impressive arms. You were surprised at the spark of jealousy you felt seeing your pretty girlfriend get hugged by the two equally pretty men, wanting to feel their arms around you too. “Hey, you guys met Y/N, my girlfriend?” Mina asked once she moved away from Bakugou. She took your hand and brought you closer to the duo, smiling proudly.

“Oh, so this is her?” Kiri asked, grinning down at you. “It’s so nice to meet you! We’ve seen you a lot on Mina’s IG.” He stuck his hand out and you shook it, noticing how much bigger and rougher it was.

Bakugou stuck his hand out too, but you eyed it warily. “Do you really deserve a handshake after laughing at me?” you asked, and he raised a brow at your quip. Mina looked between you two, confused. “Wait, huh?”

As Kiri laughed, you smirked. “Long story.”

“Chill,” Bakugou sighed. “It was a joke. And it was kinda funny.” He stuck out his hand to you once more, smiling. “Come on. Truce?” You stared him down for a while until, finally, you gave in and shook his hand. “Katsuki. Nice to meet you.” He gave you a dazzling smile that nearly left you without your sarcastic front for a moment.

Mina let out a big sigh, shaking her head up at the guys. “Can’t believe the second and forth most popular pros decided to show up for us extras.”

“Hey, the number one is here too,” Kiri replied, referring to Deku. “By the way, congrats on your spot at number seven.” Mina grinned widely at the mention of her accomplishment. “Thanks! It was hard, but I’m happy. But I’m aiming for number six next year. Charge Bolt better watch his fucking back!”

“You guys wanna sit with us?” Kiri nodded at an empty table nearby, claimed by their jackets. “We just got here, so we were just making rounds until we ran this one.” He smiled apologetically at you, filling your stomach with butterflies. “Sorry you had to fall victim to Katsuki’s pregame.” Bakugou rolled his crimson eyes.

“Sure!” Mina answered before turning to you. “Is that okay with you, babe?” You could only muster a nod, too afraid to open your mouth and say something embarrassing. You could hardly believe it when Kiri and Bakugou walked you over to their table where a plate of snacks sits–cheese cubes, crackers and salami, fruit, and pastries. Kiri told you and Mina they were up for grabs as he and Bakugou sat down across from you.

“So what’s been up, stranger?” he asked, grinning at Mina. He sat back against his chair, slinging an arm over Bakugou’s seat. “Sorry it’s been so long since we’ve talked. With trying to keep crime off the streets, it’s been–”

“Hey.” Mina’s tone was firm, but her smile was kind. “No apologies. Life happens and besides, we’re all here now.” She put a hand over Kiri’s and grinned at Bakugou. “Just like old times.” Bakugou smirked at her and you envisioned them all as teens in high school, just like this.

“And we’re finally meeting you too,” Kiri said, giving you a sweet smile. “You pick ‘em well, Mina.” The compliment made you flush under the lights. “Well, she picked me, really,” Mina giggled, nudging you with her knee. “It’s hard to find people that aren’t trying to just fuck a pro in this world. Wanna know how we met?”

She began to tell the story of how you met at a speed-dating event that your friends forced you to attend after a dead-end relationship ended months into dating. Mina was there to meet someone after being tired of hookups or people wanting to date her just for the money or fame aspects. Out of all the dates you had, you clicked with Mina the most, regardless of her status, and picked her to give your number after the event ended. After going home, her eyes, like sunken treasure, and pink curls haunted your dreams.

After the story finished, Kiri asked what you did for work and you were happy to respond, going into detail for both him and Bakugou. “I love what I do,” you said. “And it pays well.”

“How’s it feel to be dating a pro hero, huh?” Kiri then asked, smiling playfully at you. You were happy to answer that too. “Amazing,” you cooed, holding Mina’s hand in yours and gazing into her eyes. “It’s been two years and I still feel like I’m getting to know her every single day.” Mina gave you a dazzling smile. “The feeling’s mutual.”

While Kiri audibly “aww”ed at you, Bakugou clicked his tongue against his mouth, rolling his eyes. “You guys are disgusting,” he grumbled before taking a sip of punch that may or may not be spiked with something.

“So what about you?” you asked, more to play with him than actually know. Bakugou glared at you for even asking. “Anybody have you wrapped around your finger? Or you, Eji?” Kiri glanced at Bakugou and a blush coated his cheeks. “Uh, you could say that…”

He glanced again at Bakugou who scowled back at him but it isn’t mean or cold. If anything, it was affectionate. Slowly, the puzzle pieces began to fit together. Wait,” you gasped softly. “Are you two dating?” The guys silently looked at you, neither saying yes nor no. “Seriously?!” you whispered, mouth agape. “I thought those were just rumors!”

For a while, there had been rumors of Dyanmight and Red Riot being more than just coworkers or friends.

“Nope,” Kiri replied, validating your suspicions. “It’s the real deal, but we’ve been keeping it under wraps since the damn paparazzi will make a story out of our dating lives than what we do as heroes.” Bakugou huffed at the mention of them. “Fuckin’ losers.”

You leaned in towards Mina. “Did you know?” you whispered in her ear. She leaned in, nearly knocking your forehead with hers. “Yeah, but they swore me to secrecy. They’d been dating since high school on and off ‘cause of Bakugou’s emotional issues.” She turns to her friends, smiling as Kiri tells Bakugou a joke and he tries not to laugh. “But I guess they’ve gotten stronger.”

You leaned away from Mina, clearing your throat. “So are you guys here together together or…?”

“Nah, just as friends,” Kiri replied. “Which we’re trusting you to keep a secret. Can we make sure you don’t go flapping your gums to some trashy tabloid?” He gave you a mock-serious stare that made your heart knock a little faster against your chest, especially combined with Bakugou’s intense glare.

Luckily for you, the alcohol was working its magic and you leaned in with a smile. “Boys, your secret is safe with me,” you slyly said, crossing your heart. “So.” You curled your fist under your skin, smiling at the attractive pro couple sitting across from you. “What’s been up with you pros?”

The reunion lasted for another hour, most of it spent with Kiri and Bakugou laughing, talking, and trying to get Bakugou to dance. When the night ended, you felt like you knew the couple well and felt yourself feeling sad without them as they walked you and Mina outside the school.

As Mina started the car with her keys, Kiri gave each of you a hug. You felt safe and warm in his muscular arms, those butterflies becoming annoying as he squeezed you to his hard chest. “You girls stay safe, alright?” he said. “We’ll follow you home if you want.”

You giggled as Mina rolled her eyes playfully. “Always the protective one.” Kiri shrugged, still looking concerned for you–it was cute. “Hey, what can I say? Crime is lurking around every corner.”

“Stop killing my buzz, shitty hair!” Bakugou growled after he started his sportscar. Mina laughed as she walked to the car, ready to go home and sleep. Before you could follow her, Bakugou grabbed your hand. Your eyes glanced at his hand in yours before looking into those eyes like rubies. “Mina can give you our numbers. You’re gonna call, right?”

Though his tone sounded rough, which you realized was just his natural voice, you weren’t intimidated at all. He sounded hopeful and his eyes almost held a plea in them that you couldn’t refuse. “Y-Yeah,” you stuttered out, surprised you could even speak.

Bakugou nodded once, looking pleased by that, before Kiri butted in and pressed an unexpected kiss to your cheek. “It was nice meeting you, Y/N,” he whispered, his peppermint-fresh breath fanning in your face. “We hope to see you again soon.”

And you hoped that too. God, did you hope that with all your being!

Mina seemed to want that too because in the weeks after the reunion, the four of you were talking nonstop in the group chat made for you, meeting up on lunch breaks, and going out for day and night activities. It was the most fun you’d had with other people besides Mina and after a while, in your stupid brain that seemed to love to torture you with your girlish fantasies, started to think of your activities as dates.

However, your feelings for Kiri and Bakugou transformed into something more intimate and sensual, not quite a schoolgirl crush anymore, when you all went out for drinks one Friday night after your shift ended. Kiri and Bakugou had picked you up at your office while Mina met you there later after her patrols ended.

You had been there for two hours when the drinks started hitting and everything seemed warmer and bubblier, and Bakugou’s story about his and Kiri’s nightclub romp with an obsessed fan that much funnier. “No way!” Mina shouted while you giggled uncontrollably.

“I’m telling you it happened,” Bakugou grinned as Kiri took a sip of his beer. “She fucking threw herself at Kiri and me butt naked and proclaimed her undying love to us.” He shivered at the memory. “That’s the last time we tried anything new, like that damn nightclub.”

“Aw, come on, Katsuki,” Mina cooed, sipping her third cocktail of the night. “Trying new things is good! Y/N and I do it all the time: new restaurants, new activities, new toys–” She covered her mouth immediately and you froze, your drink at your lips. “That slipped out,” she said apologetically to you.

You could’ve hidden in embarrassment at your tipsy girlfriend’s big mouth. Kiri and Bakugou stared you two down, eyes wide. “Wait, wait,” Kiri said with a guffaw, “now you have to finish that thought. What do you mean ‘toys’?”

“What do you think she means, dumbass?” Bakugou snickered. “Sex toys.” Kiri raised his pierced brow, surprised by delighted by your and Mina’s secret. “You two are freaky like that?”

“Sex toys aren’t even that freaky!” you laughed, the alcohol influencing your looseness. “And yes, we like to indulge in new things from time to time to spice up our sex life.” “Like any loving, long-term couple would.”

Kiri and Bakugou shared an unreadable look. “Like what?” Bakugou grumbled. “Name ‘em.”

Mina looked at you for permission and you nodded, a light, tipsy giggle on your lips. She hummed to herself, counting them off on her fingers. “We’ve done shibari, a bit of dabbling in BDSM, handcuffs, roleplay…” She glanced at you thoughtfully. “We forgetting something?”

“We’ve done all that too,” Kiri snickered. “Katsuki is fond of handcuffs.” Bakugou growled while you began thinking of him handcuffed to Kiri’s headboard, body on full display. “So what’s something you two haven’t tried yet that you’d want to in the bedroom?” he asked, glancing at you. “We’ll start with you.”

Then all eyes were on you, anticipating your answer. You flushed under their gazes and the heat of the lights above, suddenly regretting drinking the cocktails. “Um…” You stirred your straw around your glass, avoiding their eyes. “I’ve always wanted to have a foursome with another couple.”

“Really?” Kiri asked, sounding shocked. “Even with you being possessive, Mina?” Mina giggled. “Anything my baby wants, she gets.” Her pet name made you flush. “Plus I’ve always wanted to try it too. I’ll try anything once.”

“Same here,” Kiri replied, and Bakugou hummed in agreement.

“But we could never find any good couples to do that with,” Mina continued. “People are fuckin’ weird, especially to pros. Yeah, we’re celebs in a way, but we’re people too. You don’t have to constantly flaunt that you had sex with one.”

You nodded because yes, it’s been hard to really put your fantasy into action ever since you let Mina in on it. “So why a foursome, cutie?” Kiri asked, and you flicked your eyes up to him finally.

You wish you didn’t. His and Bakugou’s vermillion eyes on you felt too personal. Too intimate. You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to feel secure. “I don’t know.” Bakugou grunted, shaking his head. “That ain’t an answer.”

You sighed, realizing they wouldn’t let up until you gave them an honest, stripped answer. So, with a sip of your cocktail, you gave it to them: “Mina and I have been together for two years. When we met, we’ve always been adventurous and willing to try new things with each other to excite our sex life. I figured maybe being with another couple would be fun to experience together and maybe make our relationship stronger, I guess.”

After you finished, you peered at Kiri and Bakugou through your lashes, smirking. “Was that an answer?” you boldly ask. They didn’t answer you, but those hot gazes stayed on their faces.

You shifted in your seat, feeling warm–and not from the alcohol. “As pros, I’m sure you’ve had your fair share of rendezvous together, right?” you asked, your voice coming out breathless. Kiri shook his head, answering for Bakugou. “No?” you asked, shocked.

“We’re definitely not against it,” he explained. “It’s just not something we’ve tried before. Can’t say it doesn’t sound hot though.” He grinned toothily at you and it filled your body with butterflies.

He leaned back in his seat, exposing the stretch of his muscles in his tight, white tee. “Only problem is we’re both possessive, so if we have sex with other people, it has to be together.” He looked between you and Mina, eyes hooded. You passed it off as the alcohol’s influence. “And the partners we manage to rendezvous with have to be ours entirely. Feels better that way, in my opinion.”

Bakugou was fixing you with the same gaze, his eyes never breaking from either you nor Mina. “Agreed,” he softly growled.

A week after that conversation, you knew you were attracted to them. There was no denying it or keeping it from Mina any longer. So, one Saturday afternoon, you decided to go on a walk with Mina in your local park.

Hand in hand and away from the joggers, dogwalkers, and school kids out for the weekend, you got up the nerve to tell her your damning secret. “I have to tell you something,” you nervously began, “and I’m only telling you because I love you and I know that communication is key in healthy relationships.”

Mina stopped walking and stared at you, trying to hide her worry. “Okay.”

Under the blooming trees in the late-spring breeze, you allowed yourself to come clean despite the nervous pricks at your skin. You inhaled deeply and exhaled, “I’m feeling some type of way for Kiri and Bakugou.”

Mina blinked at you, never responding. “Not in a bad way!” you rushed to explain. “I like them a lot, but…just in a friendly way.”

Once again, she wordlessly blinked at you and you groaned, frustrated. “Fuck, I’m attracted to them! I don’t know how it happened, but every time we’re together, I just feel hot all over and I can’t focus on anything but them. And, of course, I’m attracted to you too, but now it’s like I’m attracted to all three of you. …Am I making sense?”

You stopped your word vomit momentarily to look at your girlfriend, screaming internally for a response. Finally, after staring you down, she replied. “Yes, and I feel the same way.” Now it was your turn to blink at her, shocked. “Y-You do?” you stuttered softly.

Mina toyed with the stray string on her oversized yellow sweater, shy. “I didn’t tell you this before,” she admitted, “but Kiri, Baku, and I had an FWB thing back in high school for a short time. It only lasted for a semester because we decided we worked better as friends, but…” She sighed, looking conflicted. “My crush on them never faded and I guess seeing them again only made it flare back up. I didn’t wanna tell you because it felt like I was cheating on you in some way.”

You swear you could’ve kissed her right there. Relief flooded through you like the cool spring breeze did in your lungs. “Me too,” you confessed. “I felt so bad that I felt this way about other people, let alone a couple.”

Mina’s shoulders dropped in relief and she reached for your hand, squeezing it. “I’m so glad we were able to talk about this,” you sighed happily. “Which brings me to my next topic…” You felt those nervous pricks again, that flip in your stomach nearly making you not say it. “Uh…you know how you’ve always wanted a foursome, but we could never find the right couple to do it with?”

Mina quirks an eyebrow. “Yeah…”

You flushed, biting your lower lip. “Um…w-well…I’m starting to think that maybe Kiri and Katsuki are the right couple.”

Realization cleared in your girlfriend’s gold eyes. “Y/N, are you saying you’d want to have a foursome with my best friends?” she asked lowly. You stared down at your shoes, waiting for her to refuse and break up with you. “Because if so, I’d happily go along with it.”

You stared back up at her, shook. “Wait, seriously?”

Mina laughed, the sound startling. “Shit, yeah!” she shouted cheerfully. “When I talk on the phone with the guys, you should hear the way they talk about you. And when we’re out, the looks they give you aren’t exactly subtle or friendly.”

She smirked as you flushed over her words. “I’ve been feeling this way for a while too, but I wanted to make sure you got to know them first before we really talked about it, y’know?”

You could’ve done more than kiss her at that moment. You could’ve fucked her right there in the park. “Babe…” Joy filled you, making you giggle deliriously. “I can’t believe this is real.”

“Believe it, baby,” Mina hummed, closing the gap between you both with a peck on your lips. “We can talk about it more, but would you want me to call the guys and suggest it to them? Though something tells me they’d be down for it anyway.” Her hands go for your hips, holding you close. “They wouldn’t know how good they got it, fucking a pretty girl at the same time.”

Heat pooled between your thighs at her dirty words and you wrapped your arms around her. “You mean two pretty girls at the same time,” you cooed. “Thank you, Mina, for this.”

She smiled at you, nudging your nose with hers. “Thank me when we get a yes.”

And a very enthusiastic and quick yes from both the guys is what you got. That week, you and Mina were going over boundaries and kinks with Kiri and Bakugou while out for coffee, the conversation barely sexual and serious. You wouldn’t have expected to have gotten turned on over a latte while Kiri and Bakugou listened intently to all your likes and dislikes, your ins and outs, as if committing them all to memory.

They had decided to invite you and Mina over for a date night before your fantasy took place. Bakugou demanded he cook while Kiri took care of the cleaning and picking the movies. It was a sweet gesture, especially given the context of the date night.

That is how you find yourself here now, facing your own fantasy head-on and feeling horrible for making Mina worry so much. “I’m sorry, Mina,” you sigh apologetically. “I guess I’m just a little nervous. I mean, fantasies are different from reality.”

Mina nods, squeezing your hand tightly. “I understand,” she softly says. “But remember, babe: this is about you. If you’re having second thoughts or you feel that you aren’t ready, please let me know. This can either be just a normal dinner or we can leave.”

You nod, exhaling deeply. Though her words comfort you, those damn butterflies still frantically flap their wings against your stomach, making you want to bolt. ‘No!’ you think, irked with yourself and your anxiety. ‘You’re not leaving. You have nothing to worry about.’

Mina suddenly drops your hand and comes up behind you, distracting you from your thoughts.

“But it’d be a shame to waste such an outfit,” she purrs into your ear as her hand toys with the hem of your sundress that stops mid-thigh. “I’m sure Bakugou would love to see you in this. He has a thing for your legs.” She giggles the hitch in your breath as her hand glides up and under your dress. “Just looking at your body in this dress is doing things to me.”

Her fingers glide across the naked skin of your thigh, dangerously close to your underwear. “Mina…” Her name is a nervous whimper on your lips, afraid that someone might see.

Luckily, you get a warning first when the front door to Dynamight and Red Riot’s home cracks open. Mina immediately snatches her hand away from you and grins at the very handsome and grinning Kiri that greets you. “Hey, you guys made it!” he cheerfully states. “C’mon inside before it rains.”

With a supportive glance your way, Mina grabs your hand and takes you inside.

[itjazzbicch]

Best Friends Brother

Pairing: Matt Jackson x Fem Reader 

Summary: The reader being in the Elite, has always been best friends with Nick, but hid the truth about her crush on his older brother Matt. Once alone, Matt calls her bluff and neither of them can hold back when they admit the truth…

Warnings: SMUT! (18+ ONLY!) 

Word Count: 1.5k 

Tag List: @demonqueen29 @peachy-satan00 @new-zealand-chic  @crowleysqueenofhell @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @thatpanpal @damnnhausen@irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @linziland13 @xxx-jazz-xxx @writtingrose @cuzimacomedian @april-jeanette-wagner @starwithaheart @seeingstarks @rubyred1980 

I DO NOT OWN THIS GIF:   

"Hey, you'll be okay by yourself for a second right?"

We had such a long day of traveling and all I wanted to do was lay down, but still being kind, looking at Nick from the bed:

"You want me to go pick up the food? I know you're tired."

"It's okay," He smiled, heading to the door, "I have some stuff to handle with Brandon anyhow. You relax."

"You're the best, Nick," I smiled, laying back in bed.

Nick was the best friend I could ever ask for, even while tired, he was still doing stuff for us to have a good night before the show. But the second Nick walked out of the door, I jumped at my phone ringing.

Matt.

The one thing that drained my energy in this friendship was how hard I was crushing on Matt. I was just afraid that it would hurt Nick and I's friendship like that's his older brother.

Any time I talked to Matt, my body naturally made a sweet voice, answering:

"Hey, Mattie."

"Hey girl," He had the same sweet voice, asking, "I'm on my way to the hotel. You and Nick made it right?"

"Yeah, I'm just hanging out," I smiled up at the ceiling, loving the sound of his voice, "Nick just went out to get us some food with Brandon."

"Nice," Hearing some footsteps in the background, I could tell he was close, "You won't be alone here in a minute. Just got here."

"Okay, I'll see you in a second," I sat up in bed when I hung up, straightening up the room knowing Matt and I would be alone.

Just the thought was making my heart race, but sat in bed, cool as a cucumber when Matt walked in.

"There's my girl," He smiled while stepping in, putting up his suitcase and taking off his shoes.

One thing that always aroused my curiosity was how Matt acted differently when Nick wasn't around. When Nick was around, quiet, would stay platonic, but alone? He was really himself.

My cheeks heated up at the way he said that, calling me his girl. Not looking at him directly I still answer, "And there's my Mattie."

It surprised me that there was a moment of awkward silence, Matt was straightforward about it, reading my body language at the end of the bed:

"Why are you always so nervous when we're alone?"

"Nervous?" I chuckled to play it off, but damn it, I sounded nervous, and Matt? Was he a mind reader?

Hitting the nail on the head, he laid on the bed, head resting in his hands and kicking his feet, smiling:

"I know why."

"I'd love to hear your answer," I was already racing through thoughts about how this would go, defeated when he answered:

"You like me."

Nothing was my response, but he kept reading me like a book and added:

"And I bet the only reason why you haven't made a move is because of Nick?"

"He's my best friend," I looked down, letting him know he was right, fidgeting with my hands, "I just don't want it to make anything weird you know?"

"I know," He acknowledged, but was smiling, "But it's your life. If you want something, go for it. If you want me-"

Connecting with his gaze, I stared deeper while he crawled up the bed a little to be closer, a smirk on his face:

"Go for it, because I'm tired of beating around the bush."

There was no denying that I felt the same way, how badly I wanted him, how much he was always on my mind and I've dreamt about moments like this. I wasn't letting it slip away.

"So. you won't mind if I do this?" It was my turn to make a move, leaning closer to kiss, pressing my lips while I took a deep breath, and when our kiss broke? All of the chains that held us broke too.

Clothes disappeared while kissing each other as much as we could and once I was down to my tank top with no bra, Matt took me by the thighs, throwing me on my back, spreading my legs wide:

"I am pretty hungry and I know exactly what I want to eat."

Whining at the hard suck on my clit, my hand was already holding his head, Matt letting his hair down for me to pull, then doing exactly what he said, eating me from the inside out.

Every swift lick of his tongue had my body jerking, holding his head by the hair and grinding against his face, a burn from his beard and none of that phased him, only devouring more with the small breaths he took.

My vision was growing blurry, kitten-like lick at my clit along with his finger slipping into me, pumping slowly before adding another, then pumping as quick as he could, nerves so wild that my body started lifting me with shakes:

"Sweet Jesus, Matt!" I cried at how hard I came, falling to my back and squirming at how tight I was around his fingers, both of us coming to a stop when we heard my phone ringing.

It was Nick.

Matt was sitting up on his knees, readying himself for when I was done, answering the phone:

"Hey Nick, what's up?"

"Just wanted to let you know, things didn't really go according to plan with Brandon and filming some BTE, but we just got the food. So, we'll be back in a bit," Nick explained, my head nodding and wanting to end this conversation:

"Okay, I'm here, so-"

Mid-sentence, Matt had his cock positioned at my entrance and slammed right into me, having me whine hard at it while on the phone, almost dropping it and I heard Nick:

"Y/N?! You good?"

"Yeah," I huffed out quickly, biting my lip to hide moans when Matt started rolling his hips, laughing under his breath and delivering quicker thrusts, trying his hardest to get me to break, "I just stubbed my toe is all. I'll see you when you get here!"

I threw my phone after I hung up, sitting up slightly and grabbing Matt by the hair, pulling him down to kiss and bite his lip:

"You think that's real funny, huh?"

"I wasn't letting him ruin my fun," He snickered, freeing his lip with his tongue going into our kiss, taking my wrists and pinning them down to the bed, slamming his hips harder, "And if he's coming back, I better make you cum quickly."

"You mother-" I went to scold him, but the pleasure building up from my toes to my head was so good, burning up at the touch of our skin, chest to chest while he began to kiss my neck, feeling hard sucks, "Matt!"

Getting me off wasn't going to be a hard task with the way he was going, his soft grunts and growls adding to it all, shifting his hips so my legs were higher in the air, the grip on my wrists even tighter.

"Think that, stubbing your toe, will be a good enough excuse when you're walking with a limp?" He loved to poke at me, in this manner, it only wired me up more, walls clenched and spasming at that tone along with the tip of his cock hitting my deepest spots.

"I sure as hell hope so!" My eyes were shut so tight, feeling his forehead against mine, the tensity in both our bodies as I started to unravel.

"You know, I think I just heard the elevator. Can't really tell when you're moaning my name so loud," He teased one more time before growing serious, his voice deep and low when he commanded, "Cum for me."

"I am cuming, Matt!" My legs latched around his waist and locked, shaking and my nails digging into my palms when I formed fists, gasping for air and gushing around him, whining his name softly as he let his cock enjoy it with soft thrusts, kissing:

"Fuck, that's so good."

"Good isn't the word," I whispered against his lips, both of us stopping when we heard footsteps at the door.

We have never moved so quickly, a struggle to get dressed with how bad my legs were shaking, thankfully that I wore a hoodie tonight. I was hoping I would be able to hide the shake in my legs when I sat upright in the bed, covering the wet spot I left with a blanket, and wiping the sweat off of my forehead.

Matt was sitting in the chair next to the bed, fixing himself in his sweats, throwing on his hoodie too, and so nonchalant that you would never expect that we were just going at it like animals.

"Food has arrived!" Brandon stepped in first, coming to the dresser to unload it with Nick.

"Sweet," I smiled, hoping I seemed normal, taking my food from Nick:

"Here's yours and yours."

Whenever he handed Matt his food, Matt's eyes were on me, teasing knowing only I knew what he meant:

"Thank you. I've been needing something tasty." 

[wonderlandleighleigh]

(This is the long, completed version of Jess dreaming about Lenny after he’s passed away)

He’s been reading too hard again.

Jess Mariano has a weird habit, where if he reads too hard, too much, it all starts showing up in his dreams, and Lenny’s memoir is no exception.

He dreams of a dim, smoky café, where a woman in a fancy black dress and pearls is making the audience laugh. 

“She’s so good,” the man next to him says reverently, and when he looks, he finds a tall man, dark hair and a hand in front of his mouth, watching the woman intently. 

“Lenny?” Jess marvels. 

He smirks. “Hey, kid.” 

“You-” 

“Ssshh. Just listen.” 

And Jess does, and it takes him all of a second to realize that that’s Midge onstage, eating the audience alive. And Lenny is right. She is so, so good.

“...Anyhow, my point is, with the ring came the sex. Exclusive sex. Right? Something to count on. Something you know is yours. Like a social security number or a family history of insanity.” 

Jess laughs quietly and Lenny smiles. 

“Sometimes I look back on this night,” he tells Jess. “And I wonder why I waited so long.” 

“Weren’t you still married to Honey when this happened?” Jess asks. 

Lenny nods. “I was. But not for very much longer. I could have made a move sooner. I just- I didn’t know if she- hold on, this is my cue.” 

Midge wraps her set to thunderous applause, and then rushes off the stage, launching herself into Lenny’s arms, and he hugs her tightly. 

“How could you not have known that she wanted you?” Jess asks, a little annoyed. 

Lenny smirks from over Midge’s shoulder. “Don’t bother the dead, kid.” 

Jess wakes up with a jolt after that, looking around Luke’s old apartment above the diner and rolls his eyes.

“Fuck.” 

***** 

Another night. Another dream. A cramped little jazz club, and this time, he’s onstage with Lenny as Lenny does his set.

Except he’s not actually doing his set, he’s talking to Jess. 

“I clocked her in the audience right when she took a seat,” Lenny tells him. “The headband and the cute little black pants and the coat. After Trent and the three - the guys behind me - hey guys - play their first set, I’m gonna invite her out back with us to get high, and then she’s going to stand right here where I’m standing, and roast the fuck out of me for a years-old joke she saw me tell at a strip club once.” 

Jess watches Lenny carefully, this youthful version he’s only seen in photos and the occasional documentary. He’s so used to the older version: a little stooped and white-haired with hard-earned wrinkles. It’s deeply strange to see him at nearly thirty-five. 

“Love at first roast?” Jess offers, amused.

Lenny grins and nods sheepishly. “It’s not entirely inaccurate.” 

Jess wakes with less of a jolt then and sighs. It feels like Lenny is trying to tell him something, but that’s fucking ridiculous. 

He takes the coldest shower he can stand and starts his day. 

***** 

Another night.

Another dream. 

A dive bar on a rainy night. 

Lenny sits between Jess and Midge, and he’s looking truly rundown. 

“Newly divorced, on the run from a warrant for my arrest in Chicago,” Lenny shrugs. “Missing my daughter, and a little homeless…aimless…and there she is. Until the day I died I never figured out why she kept saving me.” 

“She loves you, Lenny,” Jess tells him. “It’s that simple.” 

Lenny takes the drink in front of Jess and downs it, clearly feeling the burn of it. “That was still not my drink.” 

Jess chuckles softly. 

“It’s going to be okay,” Midge says firmly. 

Lenny looks at Midge and shakes his head. “She has this habit, you know. She knows just what to say when my whole heart is in tatters. She’s gonna do it again in another moment.” 

Jess looks confused. These dreams never have full conversations, it seems. 

“I’m going to tell her about my Steve Allen gig, and she’s going to catch that I am fucking nervous,” Lenny explains. “She’s going to tell me about accompanying her very young son- who will, in a handful of years - become my stepson - on his first playdate, and how she stayed outside the whole time, even though it rained.” 

“Want me to stand outside your playdate?” Midge asks, grinning at Lenny understandingly.

“And there it is,” Lenny tells him. “In that one sentence. That’s when there was no turning back.” He gets to his feet, digging out some money to pay for the drink he stole, and keeps chatting with Jess. “I’m going to tell her to bring her umbrella to my playdate, and leave like I’m cool or something. But in reality…fuck, I don’t know. Sometimes it was tough not to beg her to come home with me - not that I had a home at this point.” 

Jess follows, shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. “Umbrella.” He remembers Lenny’s funeral. Being asked to bring one. Everyone being asked to bring one. Midge had stepped out of the car at the cemetery for the burial to a sea of umbrellas, lifted her own very pink one, and led the way. 

And this is why.

Jess wakes up and sighs, staring at the ceiling. What are the point of these stupid fucking dreams? Is he really just reading too much, too hard on Lenny’s memoir? Is this a belated grieving thing? 

Jesus. 

***** 

“This is not a proud moment for me,” Lenny tells Jess as they stand out on the sidewalk in front of Midge’s apartment building on the Upper West Side. 

The sun is shining, Lenny has lost a shoe, Midge is bewildered, and the whole thing looks like I mess. 

“I got high last night,” Lenny explains. “And then drank a lot of whiskey. A lot. Of whiskey. And I blacked out on 8th Street. And luckily - or unluckily, I thought at the time - Midge was passing by. She spotted me. Brought me here.” He turns to the building. “To sleep it off safely.” 

“Were you together?” 

“No,” Lenny confesses. “We’ve been…dancing. Around this thing of ours, but no. And I was humiliated. And hungover and just-” He sighs, looking ashamed. “I took my shame out on her. I was horrible to her.” 

“Why?” 

“What was the impetus every time you were an asshole to Rory?” Lenny asks as he tries to offer Midge money, and Jess’s eyes go wide with panic at the gesture. 

“Lenny - fucking - no!” 

“I’m sorry, what do you think happened last night?” 

“Answer the question,” Lenny says. 

“I was fucked up and angry at myself and - ashamed of myself,” Jess tells him as he climbs into the cab with Lenny while Midge storms back into the building. 

“Yeah,” Lenny drawls. “My poor Miriam. The things I put her through. This bullshit, and the drugs…the convictions and appeals…she should have left me so many times. She had every right to, and she couldn’t do it.” 

“That whole love thing again,” Jess quips. 

“Don’t joke,” Lenny tells him as he lights a cigarette. “Midge has seen shit that would have you running scared.” 

Jess takes a breath. “Lenny, why do you keep popping up like this?” 

Lenny shrugs. “Seemed like there was more to talk about with you. More to explain. You and I, we always had nice conversations. Maybe you’re not ready for them to end yet.” 

He wakes up and shakes his head. “Fuck.” 

***** 

He stops Jess from walking into that very blue hotel room. 

“Not on your fucking life, kid,” Lenny tells him, and shuts the door. 

Jess wakes up laughing, but once he goes back to sleep, he finds himself dreaming of a bathroom and a bag. 

And Lenny again. 

“The thing you don’t know about me,” he says, standing there in nothing but a pair of undershorts, looking younger than Jess can ever remember even in pictures, the scars on the insides of his arms on display. “Is that I have always been a god-damn monster. And the idea that Midge didn’t think so is the only thing that kept me from dying young.” 

Jess wakes up again, and finds himself in his own bathroom with his cell phone. 

“Hello?” Rory asks sleepily. 

“I-” 

“Jess?” 

“Sorry. I’m sorry.” 

He hangs up. 

***** 

The problem with these dreams - the big problem - is that none of these instances are detailed in the book. Mentions are made of clubs and cafes. Of Blue rooms. But Lenny purposefully left out details that Jess has been dreaming about.

And he’s not sure what to do with that information, because either those things really happened and Jess is going bonkers, or he’s just dreaming weirdly specific stuff. 

And he knows he should ask Midge about it, but he can’t bring himself to do so. Midge is Midge and Midge will always tell him that she’s okay. That it doesn’t hurt too much. That Lenny lived a long, full life, and it was his time. But it doesn’t change the fact that she’s now living out the last years of her life without him, and that has to hurt. 

So in the morning when she stops in for breakfast, as she so often does, he just pours her coffee and asks her how her day is so far. 

But he finds himself looking at Midge in a new light. Not as the elderly woman who has always, somehow shown him kindness and tried to be family to him when he had very little, but he sees, now, the young, funny, fierce woman Lenny had fallen in love with.

“Have you ever thought about writing another book?” Jess asks out of the blue.

Midge looks surprised. “Not really.” 

“I mean, you don’t talk much about the early days in the one you wrote,” Jess points out. “Lenny doesn’t give a whole lot of details, but he talks about meeting you in the memoir. You kind of gloss over a lot of that stuff.” 

She shrugs, grinning. “Some things are just for me.” 

Jess nods, and keeps working, only for Rory to pop over to the counter. 

"Hey."

He nods to her. "Hey."

Rory purses her lips. "You called me last night and then hung up."

"Yeah," Jess confirms sheepishly. "I had a weird dream and I … I guess I wigged out a little.: 

She frowns. "Wanna talk about it?" 

"No. But thanks."

*****

"You know when you really let someone down?" Lenny asks from a hospital bed. 

Another dream. 

Lenny looks young and too thin and too pale. 

And Jess knows this is the overdose. 

Jess nods. "Yeah."

Lenny sighs and gazes past him, at the woman dozing in a chair in the corner. "Yeah."

Jess takes a breath and looks Lenny in the eyes. “Why?” 

The other man can only shrug and shake his head. “I don’t have answers. If I did, I don’t think I’d have wound up in this hospital bed.” 

“It just feels like you’ve been trying to tell me something,” Jess presses. “All these dreams, night after night.” 

Lenny just grins.

And Jess wakes up. 

***** 

“Do you dream about your grandfather?” Jess asks as he and Rory wander around the bookstore the next day. “Richard. Does he pop up a lot?” 

Rory frowns at him curiously. “Sometimes. But not in a significant way. Like, I’ll turn a corner, and he’ll be sitting there, reading a newspaper, and he’ll smile, or…or wave. But nothing intense or detailed.” 

Jess nods slowly as he tosses another book onto his stack of “to buy”’s. 

“Are you dreaming about Lenny?” Rory asks carefully. 

Jess blinks. “It’s just- weird. It’s weird. You know?” 

“He was family to you,” Rory points out gently. “And you miss him.” 

Jess just nods, but doesn’t say anything. 

“If you wanted to talk about it,” Rory offers gently. 

“Maybe,” he allows. “Maybe not now, but…maybe.” 

She shrugs and grins at him. “Whenever.” 

“Yeah.” 

***** 

“People really hated Midge after we got together,” Lenny explains as he lays back on a couch with Midge snuggled in against his chest as they read a newspaper together. “They thought that she was the reason I got clean, and they thought it made my comedy weaker. Less funny. Except all the bits people claimed were from my early days were from my post-drugs, with-Midge days…getting clean made me sharper, made the humor more biting. Angrier in a lot of ways. Got me in more trouble in some ways. People didn’t want to believe it.” 

“Another reason she should have left you?” Jess offers. 

“Eh. She’s not gonna,” Lenny shrugs, kissing the top of Midge’s head tenderly. “I got lucky.” 

“I’m sick of these dreams,” Jess snaps as he paces around the living room. 

“Then stop having them.” 

“How?!” 

Lenny shrugs again.

Jess wakes up and snarls, hopping out of bed and calling Rory.

*****  

“I keep having these dreams,” he admits, agitated as he paces the gazebo. The sun isn’t up. He woke Rory up for this, and he feels bad, but- “Every night this week, just - dream after dream, always Lenny, always something I’m pretty sure happened but I shouldn’t know that it happened. Always - talking about - him and Midge.” 

“Jess-” 

“I don’t know what he’s trying to tell me! Should this stuff be in the book? Am I supposed to learn some kind of after-school-special bullshit life lesson from all of this?” 

“Maybe you just miss him,” Rory says firmly from her seat on the bench, and it stops him in his tracks. 

He says nothing, staring at her face. 

“Lenny and Midge were a really stabilizing force in your life,” Rory offers. “They never broke up. They never got divorced, they never cheated on each other or actively hated each other. They were in love, and they love you like you're one of their own grandkids. And now half of that force is gone, and your brain is trying to make sense of that reality.” 

Jess swallows and looks down.  

“Do you need a hug?” Rory asks, getting to her feet. “I promise no funny stuff.” 

He shrugs and tries to joke. “I wouldn’t necessarily be opposed to funny stuff.” 

Rory laughs softly and hugs him around the neck. “Shut up.” 

***** 

Jess stands in the corner behind Midge's chair, watching them stare at each other.

"This place doesn't feel a little...I don't know. Weird and racist to you?" he asks.

Lenny shrugs. "It was the sixties. We were not woke."

Jess chuckles softly and wanders around a little, looking at the other patrons as they dance and drink.

"So this was your big plan to get her to fall for you?" he asks.

"Part of a larger scheme," Lenny admits. "Before this, we did a TV appearance on Miami After Dark with Bry Adler."

"The Hugh Hefner Wannabe?" Jess scoffs.

"Eh, I had already done the Playboy Penthouse thing," Lenny shrugs. "So we just ate dinner. We're enjoying drinks and each other's company. Nice and atmospheric."

"And weird and racist," Jess adds.

"Thanks for that."

"I'm just saying."

Lenny sighs heavily. "I wanted everything to be perfect. I wanted this night to be...I don't know. I think in the back of my head, I figured if I get one shot at this, I wanted to make it count. She's going to turn me down at the end of the night, by the way. We'll get back to my place, and she'll look at me and I'll look at her, and she'll hail a cab to get back to her hotel."

Jess frowns. "Why?"

Lenny takes a drag off his cigarette before putting it out and getting to his feet, offering Midge a hand. "Because stepping into that room would change what we are to each other. And she wasn't ready for it yet."

"You dance?"

Jess watches as Midge takes his hand and he gently leads her onto the dance floor.

He watches them, and thinks back on dancing with Rory at Luke and Lorelai's wedding. How comfortable that had been.

And suddenly, for the first time in any of these dreams, Lenny isn't talking to him.

"What's the matter? I'm not that bad."

Midge gazes at him. "I just can't think of anything funny to say."

Lenny agrees. "Me either. It's kind of nice, isn't it?"

Jess sits back, still watching as Midge rests her head on Lenny's shoulder, and he settles her hand onto his neck, holding her arm gently. And just like that, they go from Midge and Lenny...to MidgeandLenny. The MidgeandLenny that Jess has known since he was a dumb kid, with all of the tenderness and strength they always had with each other. For each other. Because of each other.

When he wakes up, he stares at the ceiling, 

***** 

He winds up coming clean to Liz one night on her front porch, over a couple of beers. 

Liz shrugs. “You just miss him, Jess.”

“You really think that’s it?” Jess asks. 

She nods. “I really do. He helped you a lot. He was invested in your wellbeing. In your future. And he bribed you with all those stories to get you to go to class. Luke told me about that. It’s hard to lose that kind of support.” 

“So…what do I do?” Jess asks. “How do I make these dreams stop?” 

“I don’t know that you can,” Liz admits. “It sounds like he’s sticking around, because he feels like you still need his help. So maybe…let him know that you’re gonna be okay. That he did a good enough job and that you can manage without him. Because he helped teach you how to.”

“That sounds so stupid,” Jess tells her.

 She laughs. “I know it does. But you know, I dreamt about my dad for a whole year after he passed away. And we would just have these fights. About nothing. About you. About Jimmy, and Luke and my mother and everything in my life. I decided to send you here in part because I started having those dreams again when you were in high school.” 

“That also sounds stupid.” 

“Drink your beer.” 

***** 

He dreams of an open field in the middle of nowhere, and Lenny is next to him. Younger than Jess has ever seen him, in documentaries, dreams or otherwise. 

Painfully young. Maybe twenty.  

“I worked here before the war,” Lenny explains. “This farm. I really liked it, but when I came back from the navy nobody really…” he shrugs. “They didn’t really want me here anymore. No one cared that I had come back.”

Jess stays quiet, watching the contemplative look on Lenny’s face. 

“And that feeling…that absence of belonging didn’t really go away until I found Midge,” Lenny says quietly. “But I always liked it here. I always meant to take Midge to see it, but I guess things were too busy. Family and work and whatnot.” 

“You should stay,” Jess tells him. “Hang out here for a while. See if it still fits.” 

Lenny lifts an eyebrow at him. 

“I’m okay,” Jess assures him. “I am.” 

Lenny still says nothing. 

“I’m okay, because you and Midge didn’t give up on me like everyone else had,” Jess admits. “My mom. The town. Even Luke almost gave up a couple of times, before I pulled it together. Lorelai from the second we met.”

Lenny huffs out a laugh. “You made quite the impression on her.” 

Jess smirks. “But you and Midge, you always had my back. And I’m grateful. And I’m okay.” 

Lenny nods, looking him over and patting his shoulder. “Okay, kid. If you’ve got it from here, then you’ve got it from here.” 

“I got it from here,” Jess confirms, looking back out over the landscape. 

“Hey,” Lenny says. “Don’t leave the Rory thing too long. She’ss gonna find somebody else if you do.” 

Jess chuckles and shakes his head. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

When he wakes up, he wakes up crying.

***** 

Luke and Lorelai come back to town the next day, and Jess makes sure the diner is running smoothly, and everything is just the way Luke left it. They work behind the counter together, while Lorelai and Rory chat at one of the tables, and Midge joins them when she walks in, giving Lorelai a welcome home kiss, and patting Rory’s hand as they talk. 

“You okay?” Luke asks, lifting an eyebrow at him. “You seem kinda quiet today, even for you.” 

Jess nods “I’m good. Actually, you mind if I take a break?” 

Luke shrugs. “Go ahead.” 

He grabs his jacket and heads for the door. He catches Rory’s eye and nods, and she grins, promising her mother she’ll return shortly before following him.

“Hey,” she says, catching up with him as he heads for the gazebo. “Everything okay?” 

Jess nods. “Everything’s okay. I think the dreams are done.” 

Rory gives him a sympathetic look. “That’s good. That means you’re moving on a little more.” 

He takes a breath. “I just wanna say thank you for letting me lose my shit on you a little.” 

She laughs softly. “It’s really okay. Maybe I’ll turn that into a book one day, too.” 

“Some poor asshole getting haunted by the ghost of Lenny Bruce,” Jess jokes. “There are a lot of hipsters who would eat that up.” 

“Well maybe you should write it,” Rory suggests. 

He shrugs. “Seems too personal.” He takes a breath. “Maybe I can buy you dinner tomorrow night as a thank you for putting up with my insanity?” 

Rory smiles. “I’d like that. Like old times.” 

“I was hoping literally,” he admits. “Like a date.” 

Her smile falls a little, and she looks surprised. “Wow. A date? Like a…a date-date?” 

Jess shrugs. “I’m in a good place, you’re in a good place…I thought maybe…why the fuck not?” 

Rory smiles again, obviously thinking that over. “Why the fuck not. Okay. It’s a date-date.” 

He nods. “Good.” 

Jess nudges her shoulder with his on his way past her, back to the diner, but she reaches out for his coat and stops him, pulling him back, and into a brief kiss.

He blinks at her when it ends. “What was that for?” 

Rory just smiles and gives him a gentle shove before heading back to the diner. 

Jess shakes his head and follows.

END

[astrologanize]

a friend of a friend’s younger sister had her first kiss last year with some scorpio dude and eventually he ghosted her i guess but they got back in contact a month or two ago

she tried to pursue him and str8 up told him ‘i want you’ and his response was like “mhm would you like to go to homecoming with me”. homecoming was cute, they took couple-y photos that his parents paid for, he was as chivalrous as possible, he drove her home, he initiated a good night kiss and all that jazz - mind you he was being distant before homecoming happened and giving short responses and responding at his leisure. turns out he was only mildly entertaining her because he needed a date for homecoming and that broke her heart because she’s been interested in him for a good while (and hello he was her first kiss and she had self-esteem issues at the time of said kiss and just was in a vulnerable place)

ANYHOW........she recently (like the past week) got in contact with a cute libra dude and they’ve been having pretty decent rapport! and then today!!!!!!!!!! a cute guy came into where she worked and ate his food, then he left and came back a lil bit later all nervous and went up to her!!!!!!!! and told her how pretty he found her to be and asked for her number!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i have sunshine pouring out of me, what a blessing.....one door really closed and two more opened what the fuck 

[lovejustforaday]

2023 Year End List - #5

The Redshift Blues - Dispirited Spirits

Main genres: Art Rock, Progressive Rock, Midwest Emo

A decent sampling of: Space Rock, Post-Rock, Jazz Rock, Math Rock, Experimental Rock

Midwest Emo, and probably just Emo in general, really ain't usually my thing.

There's definitely some good and some great in nearly every scene, but I find this one in general to be saturated with overly indulgent projects that don't add up in the quality factor, and bands that just come off as harsh and grating. There's also a prominent few artists in this scene that give off the kind of Nice Guy™ energy that makes my skin crawl.

So if I'm completely being honest, I really just came across this record by chance, and decided to check it out almost purely because of the spectacularly awesome cover art and the equally awesome record title. To quote anime youtuber Hazel, that shit owns.

Dispirited Spirits is the moniker of Portuguese singer/songwriter/producer Indigo Dias, who was just 19 fricking years old when he made this record, and just typing that sentence out makes my head wanna explode. HOW??? HOOOOOOW???!?!?!?

What's even more, this is frigging fantastic by my own standards, and I'm not even someone who regularly enjoys a whole lot of Emo music. If there's any young newcomer who's gonna take the world of indie rock by storm, then it's gotta be this guy, right? If I was a betting man, I'd be putting my money on Dispirited Spirits.

Case in point, his latest project.

That is to say, The Redshift Blues is a stunning record that captures the awe and the angst of being that diminutive human being, bearing witness to the grandeur of the night sky which acts as the gateway to the unfathomably vast realm outside of our tiny little blue planet. Who needs expensive VR headsets to simulate floating freely through the endless sea of the cosmos, when you can just listen to this record, close your eyes, and get just about as close to the real deal as you're ever gonna have in your lifetime?

This album does a little bit of everything on the nerdier side of modern rock music - mostly a midwest emo/art rock/prog hybrid, with moments of post-rock, jazz-rock, and math rock all thrown in the mix. At the same time, this very much reinvents and kinda defies genre, clearly aiming to be its own singular thing.

Dias takes his lyrical inspiration from various astronomical phenomena on this record, the title itself being clever wordplay for the death of a relationship that invokes the universe's redshift or tendency towards expansion, causing objects to become more distant from each other over time. Some may find this dorky or try-hard or whatever, but I think the execution is mostly brilliant.

Anyhow, let's cut to the chase and hone in on my favourite tracks.

"Nine Clouds" swims through skies of glittering space dust, with gently gliding guitars that resonate in endless ripples through space and time. This track is impeccably cushiony; disorienting in the sense that it's as if I'm turning in random circles as the musical notes twist, soar, and plummet, but all the while I remain perfectly cradled in a bubble of warm nurturing light.

"Bring Down The Sky" is a journey through cosmological purgatory and back, with various trials of harsh emo power chords separated by periods of rest nestled between mellow psychedelic phaser pedals and flourishing harps. Also, kudos to whoever laid down the many different drum patterns on this track - really holds the whole thing together to give it some solid form and muscle.

"Methanol Fire" interpolates a samba-jazz beat into its hard-rocking midwest emo riffs, making it the grooviest and most rhythmic track on an otherwise sometimes very free-form record. Leisurely space jazz atmosphere interchanged with sad boys moshing in the nucleus of a supernova. These two major components blend together so seamlessly in a way I probably wouldn't have otherwise thought was possible.

The titular outro "The Redshift Blues" is hands down the real showstopper here, as well as the emotional lynchpin of the record. This ten minute opus is one part looming space ambience, one part post-rock epic poem, yet another part part solitary acoustic ballad, and one part cinematic orchestral elegy. The moment of that final line of the bridge where Dias utters "I'll find you in the stars" and everything comes forth in this really mind-blowing, unearthly harmonious sound swell - that moment just really gets to me. A simple instance of pure, raw, ephemeral beauty in the midst of a very chaotic composition.

There are a few sparring moments here or there where it meanders or overly indulges itself - mostly on "Saturnine Saturn Dreams" - But overall I'm mostly impressed at how much of this manages to come together in a way that comes off very natural. There's a lot of tight composition that's working over-time to make sure that this maintains its nearly amorphous structure.

So yeah, let me reiterate that I am mostly just mind-blown by this project. Dispirited Spirits is easily one of the most ambitious and unique artists in indie rock to have come onto the scene so far in this new-(ish) decade. The powerful cohesion of this project suggests that it came from an visionary who's far more seasoned than Indigo Dias would reasonably be at his young age.

The Redshift Blues brilliantly conveys the existential dread and angst that arises from existing in a world far larger than you could ever imagine, and how that impacts your ability to ever be fully in control of your life when there are so many external factors involved that are so much larger than you. Ultimately, it's a surrendering of the self to the inevitable impotence of being just one person, yet still the artist manages to find a shimmer of hope and humility in what is truly sublime about this world. That, I think, is the true Redshift Blues.

9/10

Highlights: "The Redshift Blues", "Nine Clouds", "Bring Down The Sky", "Methanol Fire"

[jazzhandsmcleg]

Bread recipe: Remove from pans to wire racks to cool.

me, balancing the bread across the rim of my colander: perfect

[fonulyn]

Hello <33

I read some of your fics and loved them ❤

If it's not bothersome I'd like to ask for a prompt, but if you can't I'll understand perfectly ☺

It's about one of my headcanons between Chris and Leon, that while Chris prefers to listen to calm or acoustic music, sometimes a rock ballad, jazz and even classical music, Leon is totally the opposite and is a complete metalhead who loves deathmetal and even metalcore 😅 (by the way, he can sing with a guttural voice and Chris doesn't understand how he can sound so inhuman haha)

I was thinking about this promt since I listened "To the hellfire" by Lorna Shore (the last breakdown is so good 💗)

Once again, I love your stories 💕💕

hi there! thank you so much, i'm so glad to hear you've enjoyed the ficcage :D 💖 ah and I like the thought that Chris listens to calmer music while Leon's into metal (I am 100% projecting my own taste in music onto Leon haha :'D). I do feel they'd both listen to quite a wide range tho. also i never heard that song before, listened to it now and it's pretty cool! i admit i like my metal with cleaner vocals tbh but the melodies and the chorus are solid!

but anyhow!! here have a tiny little thing, also featuring Claire and Jill :3 (a shoutout to my brother who picked all the music for the ficlet lol)

-

Humming a little to himself Leon leaned against the car door, tilting his head back as he closed his eyes and enjoyed the wind on his face. It was a bright, sunny day, so hot that his thin shirt was practically glued to his skin. He wasn't the only one, not by any stretch, with four people crammed into Chris's Ford Escort that he staunchly refused to trade in for anything newer. Claire always called the car Chris' girlfriend, but Chris just shrugged it off and didn't even argue.

Not that Leon minded. He and Chris might not have been dating for more than a few months but he knew better than to feel threatened by a car, at least. Although the next time they were heading out for a road trip, he was going to suggest that they rent something with properly functioning AC and more leg room for the passengers.

Despite Chris' protests, Leon had propped his feet up on the dashboard, slouched low in his seat as he idly watched the scenery go by. Claire was sitting behind Chris, kicking his seat every time she disagreed with something he said, and their familiar bickering felt... safe. Felt normal. And this was exactly what Leon needed as his life was otherwise way too full of the undead, decidedly not normal things.

At the moment Chris and Claire were singing along to Uriah Heep's Lady in Black, and even Jill was humming a little in the backseat behind Leon. It was all so very peaceful, driving here in the middle of absolutely nowhere, watching the sun slowly start to set. They'd been on the road for hours, ever since they stopped to have lunch at a roadside diner, and another stop was definitely going to happen soon. Especially with the way Chris was starting to look a little sleepy, as he'd been driving too long.

Leon let himself be lulled half asleep by the soft notes of Miles Davis' C.T.A, only barely registering what songs were playing while he dozed. When the last notes of Pan Am Highway Blues faded into nothingness, Chris finally pulled over at a gas station that had huge signs bragging about their excellent burgers.

The burgers were excellent, admittedly, and after they'd eaten, had their bathroom breaks, and stretched their legs a little - and, sure, maybe Chris and Leon stole a few precious minutes of lazily making out while Claire and Jill were purchasing a mountain of snacks - they piled right back into the car. As late as it was, they'd agreed they'd drive through the night to get to spend more time at their actual destination.

It was chillier as the sun had gone down and Leon pulled on a hoodie, even if he chose to keep his shorts as he didn't feel like changing. As soon as he slid into the driver's seat, Chris already preemptively wrinkled his nose. "You're not going to force any more Napalm Death on me, are you?"

"Oh, don't worry," Leon hummed happily, tilting his head to see if the girls had already buckled in. Claire had an entire donut stuffed into her mouth, but she seemed to be in high spirits as she attempted a grin, anyway.

Leon turned back to Chris, even leaned in to plant a quick kiss in the corner of his mouth, before turning back towards the steering wheel and starting the car. "I've got this brand new CD and I've been dying to give it a listen..." He slipped the CD out of its case and inserted it into the player, giving Chris a sweet smile. "The album is called Exit."

"And the band is called?" Chris asked. It was clear in his expression that he was getting more than a little suspicious with the way Leon refused to show him the case. "C'mon, Leon, it's bet--"

He was cut short as someone screamed so loud it drowned out all of the sound in the car. The volume had been pumped up pretty high for Chris' smooth jazz and soft rock, so graciously Leon took it down a couple of notches. The screaming continued, the drums and ... Chris couldn't even tell apart any of the other instruments, it was all just noise to him.

Leon blinked innocently. "Rotten Sound," he answered. "The song is called Western Cancer." Then he peeled out of the parking lot, screaming at the top of his lungs along to the music.

Helpless, Chris turned to look at the backseat. The uneaten half of Claire's donut had fallen on her chest and she stared right back, utterly disbelieving. "This is worse than Death," she muttered, raising her voice over the music in hopes that Leon would hear her. "Can we please go back to Buddy Guy? ZZ Top? Even Death, c'mon!"

There was no reaction, so Chris glanced at Jill. "Help us out here."

"No," Jill answered. Nonchalantly she pushed her sunglasses up her nose, even though the sun had already gone down and there was absolutely no need for them. "Finally we get some good fucking music. Deal with it, losers."

Not even looking back, Leon reached out his hand for a high five. Jill didn't waste a second before giving him one.

With a groan, the Redfield siblings admitted defeat.

[combat-wombatus]

Hot Cocoa

Pairing: Iida Tenya x gn!reader

Warnings: brief cursing (mostly just bakugou being bakugou), some suggestive humor (m*neta is involved too)

Genre: fluff (a lil bit of crack bc why not)

WC: a bit over 8k? went slightly overboard with this idea and not entirely happy with the ending but i already rewrote it like 5 times so it is what it is-

(A/N): heya! so this is my first fic and i was kinda nervous about posting it...

it started out as an idea on @todorkihoe’s discord server but then it evolved into this monstrous nightmare so...it took me like a whole week to hash everything out and the logistics of the secret santa thing was an absolute nightmare. but it was worth it!!

It was the holiday season. Most people were taking time off of work to hang out with their friends and family. You had wanted nothing more than to relax in your hot tub with a glass of sparkling cranberry juice and scrumptious holiday cookies, but being a pro-hero meant sacrifices.

You were signed on as a sidekick in the UA Hero Agency’s Tokyo branch. The UA Hero Agency was exactly that: a hero agency formed by the most illustrious graduating class at UA. Not everyone from their class eventually went into the agency, but they were a large agency, with around 36 pro-heroes working full-time. This meant that they had several branches. You, a recent graduate from UA, knew these heroes who were a year above you at UA. They were special. When you started at UA, there were already whispers about “the Class of Legends”. Every single person who graduated the year after had been through enormous trauma during their years at UA. You thought that they were true heroes: strong, unbending even in the face of overwhelming adversity. They were only in their first year when they had been attacked by villains: twice. One of them had even been kidnapped. You couldn’t even begin to fathom how hard they must have worked to get to where they were today. They were resilient, and it showed. The UA Hero Agency is now one of the top Hero Agencies in not only Japan, but also the world. In fact, with their combined power, you wouldn’t be surprised if they happened to make an international branch. You knew that some of the heroes at your agency, Can’t Stop Sparkling and Pony, wanted to start something overseas but didn’t yet have the manpower to make it happen. You were sure that within a few years, their ranks bolstered by new graduates, they would take UA to the international stage.

So it was Christmas Eve. Even though you wanted the chance to chill out at home with some relaxing instrumental jazz and freshly baked sweets, you were out patrolling Tokyo’s vibrant shopping sector instead, on the lookout for villains who wished to ruin everyone else’s holiday fun. The mall was abuzz with shoppers, some hanging out in the verandas with cup of hot cocoa in their hands, others hurrying through, their arms loaded with shopping bags, searching for last-minute gifts they had previously forgotten to purchase. It was definitely not the worst patrol ever. The cozy atmosphere almost had you sighing in contentment, before you heard a voice shout, “thief!”

Of course a villain had to ruin the fun. They had a tendency to do that. You weren’t very comfortable using your quirk in such a loud, crowded area, but you bet that you could catch a small-time shoplifter without it anyways. You raced through the crowd, tracing the voice that had called out moments earlier. You saw a tuft of orange hair weaving unnaturally through the crowd of shoppers, and sprinted forwards, your eyes locked on the target. You followed the path they had created unknowingly for you, trying not to draw attention to yourself. It would only slow you down and light a fire under the criminal, which was exactly what you didn’t need.

Within moments, you caught up to them. Sneaking up behind them, you snatched their wrist and smacked your quirk-suppressing cuffs on it.

“Fuck!” He swore. How did he get caught so quickly? He could have sworn that there was no one chasing him. Pesky heroes. Relying on the comparative lack of heroes patrolling during the holidays, as well as the customary holiday shopping rush, was a sound strategy. He had done the same in previous years without getting caught. If only that damned, nosy civilian hadn’t shouted…

“Please do not resist arrest. It will be easier for all parties involved. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say may be used against you in a court of law. There are eyewitnesses to your crime. Please drop your bags and hold out your other wrist.” You said calmly. You had a beautiful voice. It was calming and had a lilt to it that was a byproduct of your quirk. The villain did as you said, knowing that there would be no escape.

You sighed. Pressing a button on the comms situated in your ear, you reported the situation back to your office. You then called the nearest detective station and waited until their patrol car got here so you could hand the man over. Glancing at your watch, you realized your patrol was almost over. You did one last sweep of the premises, then headed back to the agency.

Today, the agency was the emptiest you had ever seen it. It was a large building, with 20 above-ground floors. In fact, it was essentially a mini-city. There was a heated indoor pool, a sauna, an elite gym that would make fitness junkies drool, a massage and spa, three verandas, and a rooftop greenhouse. It had a café reminiscent of the UA cafeteria, and all types of cuisines were available. In fact, Lunch Rush’s niece was working in the café, and the food was always heavenly. Sometimes, heroes from other agencies would drop off at the UA Hero Agency just for a bite of food after a long patrol. It was the unofficial headquarters of all the hero agencies in Japan, and it certainly lived up to its reputation.

Thinking about the café, you were suddenly hungry for some pad thai. Arriving at the door, you dropped off your comms and cloak at the door to your office and headed down to the café for some food.

“(Y/N)!!! You’re back!” Your friend squealed.

“Yeah Mina, just got off of patrol. Arrested this shoplifter trying to take advantage of the holiday chaos.” Spying her coat in her hands, you realized she was on her way out.

“Cool! You’re always so efficient with your arrests. Anyhow, I’m going to head home. My parents and I are getting some dinner together. I’ll be back for the party, yeah? Don’t open any presents without me!” Mina waved, a grin on her face. You assured her that you would make sure everyone waited for her to celebrate. You wanted to see your parents too, but they were currently on an international tour. They were famous singers, pioneers of a new genre of music. It was a sort of lullaby, but it wasn’t meant to put people to sleep. It was more of an enchanting, calming kind of music present only in fantasy books before your mother brought it to life. She was wildly popular, and your father was only too happy to support her. Speaking of which, your phone rang in your pocket. You took it out and accepted the video call.

“(Y/N)! It’s so nice to see you baby! How’s it going? I know you had patrols today but I forgot about the time difference and your father had to stop me before I called you and distracted you during patrols! He’s always so paranoid you’ll hurt yourself, sweetie. Stay safe, okay?” Your mother was always cheerful.

“Yeah mom, I know. I’m doing pretty well, actually. I arrested a shoplifter today,” you replied, recounting the same story you just told Mina. “Everything’s pretty calm here. How’s your tour going? I missed you,” you asked her.

“That’s good to hear sweetie!” You mom smiled. “The tour is amazing. I’ve never had such an international turnout before! Maybe I need to start considering singing in other languages! Everyone’s always so supportive.” You smiled at her, happy that she was enjoying herself.

“You deserve it Mom. I’m glad that your music is appealing to an international audience. You always work so hard. It’s nice to see that people appreciate all that you’ve done.”

“Thanks sweetie. Here, I’ll let your dad talk to you for a bit.” There was a bit of shuffling on her end as she handed the phone over to your father.

“Hey sweetheart,” your father’s voice boomed through the phone. You held your phone away from your ear, wincing a bit. Quickly dialing the volume down, you responded.

“Hey Papa. Mom said the tour was going well.”

“Yeah, it is. How’s the holidays going for you?” You heard the slight sadness in his voice. You knew that he wanted Mom to take a break in the middle of the tour and spend Christmas with you, but Mom was adamant about it. It was a holiday tour, after all, and tickets had already been booked. Some people were going to see her concerts as a way of celebrating, and she wouldn’t let them down.

“I’m doing good. It’s pretty peaceful here. No big missions or anything,” you say, in an attempt to comfort him.

“Ok, that’s good to hear sweetheart. We miss you.”

“I miss you too, Papa. Don’t worry though, I’ll be here when you guys get back. Have fun in Paris!” You replied, suddenly feeling sad. “Bye Papa! Bye Mom! I’ll see you guys soon!” You blew a kiss to the camera and hung up. Sighing a little, you trotted towards Emiko, the revered chef.

“Can I have a pad thai please?” You asked, putting your phone back in your pocket.

“One pad thai, coming right up!” Emiko beamed. “So, I hear there’s a party tonight. Should I make anything special?”

You thought about it for a bit, then shook your head. “No, you don’t have to. It’s mostly just for the presents. We already have the booze covered. I think Momo is ordering some special hors d’œuvres already and Sato is taking care of the cookies. Are you coming?”

Emiko shook her head. “I’m spending the night with my family and my boyfriend. I think I might make you guys some tiramisu though. I have all the ingredients and I don’t want them to spoil since I’ll be gone for a few days. Desserts are my specialty anyways,” she added. Then, with a knowing smirk, she prodded your arm. “Do you have anyone on your mind? You know, Mina and Ochaco hung some mistletoe up before they left…”

You blushed. Of course they did. Your friends knew all about your one-sided crush. You also knew that he would still be working here. He was always working. You were pretty sure that he had the mind of a robot, focused only on his work and his legacy. With those hand motions he made, you weren’t surprised if he actually was one. You shook your head to get rid of these thoughts. Emiko didn’t know. At least, you didn’t think she knew. You really regretted telling Mina about your little crush. With her tendency to run her mouth, you wouldn’t be surprised if the entire agency knew already. With the exception of your actual crush, of course. He was simply too socially dense to see the signs and too uninterested to pry.

Taking your pad thai, you scurried away from a smug Emiko and plopped yourself down at a table. You dug into your noodles and sighed in contentment. Maybe working during the holidays wasn’t so bad. It wasn’t like you had friends who weren’t as busy as you were anyways.

You finished the last of your noodles, then got up and took your tray to the recycling area. Heading up to your office, you paused by Ingenium’s office. His door was cracked open, and you peeked inside. You had to muffle your giggles at the sight.

He was wrapping presents with such a focused look on his face that you found absolutely adorable. His brows were furrowed, the tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth. He had a spool of ribbons laying on the floor next to him, as well as elegant white-and-gold wrapping paper and a roll of tape. What really amused you was the pile of paper, ribbons, and tape that was bunched together and tossed aside, obviously a result of trial and error. Iida looked frustrated. He had already put his presents in boxes so that they were almost uniform in size and easier to wrap, but he was clearly struggling. You estimated that he had forty boxes littering the floor, but he only had five wrapped. You watched as he ripped off the wrapping on the newest box he had started on, muttering about how hard it was to get straight edges with the wrapping paper. Knocking lightly on his door, you stuck your head around the doorway.

“Need some help?” You asked.

Iida looked up from unspooling more wrapping paper. His face brightened at your offer.

“Yes please, (Y/L/N)-san! I would greatly appreciate your aid. I seem to be having trouble folding the paper and trying to tape it together without it sliding from its position. If you could hold the paper in place while I tape, that would be wonderful!” He looked so excited, almost like a puppy.

You smiled at his eagerness. “Of course, I’d be happy to help.”

You sat down across from him and held the wrapping paper in place while he tore off a piece of tape. The two of you worked in tandem for around an hour, until you finished wrapping all the presents. You sat back, face flushed, and surveyed your work. All forty presents, wrapped with elegant paper and tied up prettily with a gold organza ribbon, were laid out neatly on the floor. It was a satisfying sight. Rolling out your back and cracking your knuckles, you got up from the floor.

“Those were a lot of presents, Iida-san,” you yawned, stretching your arms back like a cat. “Do you want to go down and get some hot cocoa? Emiko already left, but I can make us some.”

Iida got up too. His glasses were slightly askew on his face, and he had a dazed look about him. “That would be greatly appreciated, (Y/L/N)-san. Thank you very much for helping me wrap my presents. It was irresponsible of me to leave them until the last minute.”

“Of course, Iida-san,” you replied. “We were all so busy before the holidays I’m surprised you wanted to wrap everything as fancy as you did. I know that I just stuck my presents in bags, covered them with tissue paper, and called it a day! You didn’t even buy those sticky bows, you tied them with real ribbons. That’s dedication!”

Iida blushed furiously at your compliments. It’s the perfect time to confess to her, he thought. We’re alone, and there’s no one here to see if she rejects me. He took in a deep breath, trying to muster the courage to say something to you, but before he could, you grabbed his hand and dragged him down the hallway for some much-desired peppermint hot cocoa.

Humming lightly to yourself as you lead Iida down the halls, you entered the elevator and pressed the button for the ground floor. Releasing his hand, you clasped your hands behind your back, hoping he wouldn’t notice how they were shaking slightly. Wow, you thought. I really did that. I really just snatched his hand like that. Ugh, he probably hated it every second of the way, he’s just too polite to say anything. God, my palms are so sweaty. Why did I do this to myself?

Unbeknownst to you, Iida was having a mental freak-out of his own. Ahh! She grabbed my hand! And she didn’t seem to hate it! Does this mean she really doesn’t mind my company? Maybe I actually do have a chance with her! No, stop, he told himself. She was probably just tired of how I was staring at her and decided to do something about it. Ugh, I was staring at her, wasn’t I? God, I’m such a creep. Iida wiped his palms on his slacks, then reached up and adjusted his glasses, trying to hide the obvious blush on his face.

“Ding!”

The elevator stopped at the ground floor, and the two of you stepped out into the lobby. The decorations had been up for two weeks already, but it still took your breath away every time you saw it. There were garlands of lights strung high all over the ceiling, and dainty little ornaments hung from the chandeliers. There was a huge Christmas tree next to the fireplace, the floor around it coated in snowy fuzz. You had to resist the temptation to jump in on multiple occasions. You couldn’t help yourself! It just looked so fuzzy and comfortable, like clouds of cotton candy…

The Christmas tree was decorated tastefully. There was a surprising lack of hero-themed ornaments, mostly due to Momo’s elegant decorating. You had all been in agreement when you refused to let Kaminari or Mineta even touch the tree.

Making your way to the kitchen, you relaxed a little when you breathed in the apple-scented candles. It was a surprising choice for a holiday scent. Usually, pine or cinnamon were much more popular scents. You had gotten the privilege to choose the candles though, and although you almost fainted sniffing at every single scent in the candle store, you decided on apple. It was nice and refreshing, with just a subtle touch towards the holiday season. You liked the change of pace from the usual holiday scents, and it seemed it was growing on everyone else too. You stopped at the cabinets that contained the hot cocoa bombs. Emiko had seen these as an online trend with the food community, and she had made dozens of them “as an experiment”. Everyone fell in love with them (because heroes are allowed to be childish!) and they stuck. Now, the agency had an entire cabinet in the kitchen dedicated to the delightful goodies.

“Oat or regular?” You asked Iida.

Iida had, unfortunately, spaced out again. He was thinking about how cute you looked, standing on your tiptoes to reach the cabinet.

“Hello? Earth to Iida-san,” you turned around and waved a hand in front of his face. “You okay there?”

Iida blinked and had to recompose himself again. He kept getting distracted. This was not good. Not good at all.

“Regular is fine,” he replied, his face flushing once again. He really needed to stop daydreaming.

You poured out some milk into a jug and heated it. Then, you placed a hot cocoa bomb in each mug, licking some sprinkles off your fingers as you did so. Once the milk was ready, you filled each mug to the brim, careful not to spill any. It smelled absolutely delectable. Taking a spoon from the cabinets, you stirred both cups slowly, letting the chocolate melt at an even pace.

Iida was watching all of this, and he was still having an internal debate over when to confess. Would it be better to wait until you both finished the hot cocoa? Should he even confess to you on Christmas? What if his confession ruined your holidays? He began to sweat a little, his anxiety rising with each thought. Before he could come up with an excuse to escape, you stuffed a mug into his large hands.

“All done!” You exclaimed, taking a sip of your own cocoa, careful not to burn yourself.

Iida was not so lucky. Distracted by his thoughts, he raised the mug to his lips and gulped.

“Shit!” Iida swore. You blinked at him, a little shocked since he never swore, then immediately put your mug down and raced to the refrigerator to collect some ice cubes. Iida promptly put his offensive mug of cocoa on the counter, glaring at it like it just murdered his dog. Dumping some ice cubes in a glass, you hurried back towards Iida and popped one in his mouth.

“You really should be more careful next time, Iida-san,” you chided. “I just made it! You shouldn’t take such large swigs of a piping hot drink!”

“Sorry, I got distracted.” Iida replied absentmindedly.

“Distracted? By what?” Your curiosity was now piqued.

Iida’s face turned ever redder than before. He averted his eyes and mumbled out some quiet words that you couldn’t quite catch.

“Sorry, what was that?” You gazed up at him. “I couldn’t hear what you said.”

Iida’s hands were stuck to his thighs to prevent himself from freaking you out with aggressive hand gestures, and he didn’t think he’d ever been more nervous in his entire life. He cleared his throat. “I said that I got distracted by you.”

Now it was your turn to blush. “Really?” Your voice was quiet, almost a whisper. You weren’t sure if you heard that right, and your heart was beating so fast you were afraid that he’d hear it.

Iida finally looked at you. “Really,” he confirmed.

You wrung your hands and stepped towards him. Raising your eyes to meet his, your voice a half-whisper, you gulped before your next words.

“I like you.”

Blinking twice, Iida unclasped his hands and pinched his forearm. He winced in pain, then blinked again. You laughed at his antics, then clapped a hand playfully on his bicep.

“I’m real, Iida-san. I’m right here!”

Slowly, a grin crept up Iida’s face. “Really?” He mumbled, obviously still not entirely convinced he wasn’t dreaming.

You chuckled at how you had just asked the same thing moments earlier, but then you grabbed his large hand with your smaller one and squeezed.

“Really.” You smiled bashfully.

The two of you stood in silence for a while, then Iida spoke up.

“I like you too, (Y/L/N)-san.” Feeling bold now that he knew his feelings were reciprocated, he drew his other arm across your shoulders and drew you into a tight hug. You sighed, feeling comfortable and safe in his arms. A part of you wanted to stay like this forever and never wanted him to let go.

“Would you like to go on a date with me on Saturday afternoon at 3?” Iida’s voice rumbled in your ear.

You were bursting with excitement. A date! A real, formal, date! “I’d love to, but why so specific?” You giggled.

“Ahh, well, my patrol ends at 2:30, so I thought-”

Of course Iida volunteered for patrols the weekend after Christmas. Did this man ever take a break?

“No problem at all, Iida-san. That sounds lovely.”

Iida released you from the hug and rubbed lightly at the back of his neck. “You can… you can call me Tenya, if you’d like.”

You were smiling so big that you feared your face would split. “I’d love that, Tenya.” His eyes crinkled when you called him by his first name. “And you can call me (Y/N).”

Iida nodded his head. “(Y/N). I like that,” he said to himself. He muttered your name a few times, getting used to the way it rolled off his tongue. You blushed and hugged him again, pressing your nose into his chest. He was just too adorable.

You wanted to stay like that, but your phone dinging incessantly in your pocket made it uncomfortable.

Mina

(Y/N)!!! my parents ordered this WHOLE-ASS TURKEY for dinner with JUST THE 3 OF US!!! how we gon finish it all?!?

Mina

*burps* we did it. we finished all of it. the whole turkey. (Y/N). we. finished. a. whole. fucking. turkey. pls send help i can’t walk (Y/NNNNNNNN)!!!

(Y/N)

want me to call u an uber … mina mina MINA MINA DID U PASS OUT im calling an uber mina istg

Quickly sending an Uber to the restaurant Mina was at, you put your phone back in your pocket and looked up at Tenya.

“Hey. Do you wanna get your presents and put them under the tree?” You asked.

Tenya quickly straightened up. “Thank you for reminding me, (Y/N). I had almost forgotten about them!”

“No problem!” You chirped. “Let’s go!” You took his hand in yours again and lead the way to the elevator. As the elevator chimed, the two of you waltzed in, hands still clasped together.

Humming a little tune to yourself, you stepped out of the elevator. You and Tenya entered his office, and each returned with an armful of presents, carefully stacked as to avoid damaging the delicate ribbons the two of you had spent so much time tying.

It was a tradition in the agency to get everyone something small. However, you participated in gift exchanges every year. This year, it was a Secret Santa-type exchange, but the UA Hero Agency did Secret Santa’s a bit differently. Instead of giving your partner the gift on Christmas Eve, the gifts were labeled with typed name tags in generic Times New Roman font. Then, there was the guessing portion. Everyone got 3 guesses at the party when they first open it, and after that, they get one guess per week. Whoever held out the longest (avoided being guessed) would win a batch of Sato’s homemade cookies, a week of free food from Emiko, and two patrol coupons (basically the adult version of homework passes). This year, you had drawn Bakugo as your partner. You’d decided to get him a ¥4,000 gift card to his favorite ramen restaurant, as well as a high-quality leather jacket. The gifts were pretty generic, and you thought that you had a chance at the prize. You chuckled to yourself when you remembered that last year, Momo had been so frustrated when she hadn’t figured out who had given her a pretty earring and necklace set after two months that she’d used Creation to make fingerprint dust and swiped it all over the box. It had turned out to be Todoroki. Needless to say, he’d won the prize that year.

The two of you made a few more trips, carrying gifts from his office to the tree. Checking the time, you saw that it had been an hour since Ochaco’s patrol ended. Right as you were about to call her, the front door to the lobby burst open.

“(Y/N)!!!” Your friend screeched, holding up a kitten with fur the color of cinnamon. “Look what I found on my patrol! I had to take her to the vet really quickly to make sure she wasn’t hurt, and she didn’t seem to have an owner. Just look at her!”

You beamed. The kitten was absolutely ADORABLE. And not only was Ochaco safe, she brought a kitten back with her!

“Can I hold her?” You asked.

“Duh!” Ochaco passed the kitten from her arms to yours. Behind her, you saw Bakugou walking sullenly, arms drawn tight across his chest. You stifled a giggle at the sight. He obviously wanted a turn with the kitten too, but his pride wouldn’t let him as for it.

“We were coming back from patrols and I saw this little one stuck in a tree! And when I floated up to take her down, she just looked so sad. There wasn’t a collar on her or anything, so we took her to the vet. It seems like she was abandoned,” Ochaco pouted. “And so we asked the vet to vaccinate her and everything, and we brought her back here! Can we keep her? Mr. Grumpy over there already said yes.”

Tenya looked like he was about to object, seeing as this building had a no-pets policy, but then he saw how your face lit up and the idea and changed his mind. Maybe having a pet on the premises wouldn’t be too bad, he conceded. It’s not like there were other people sharing the building with them anyways.

“Of course we can keep her!” You squealed. Bakugou huffed a sigh. He’d have to deal with all these idiots fawning over the kitten for weeks, and he wasn’t happy about that, but there was no denying that the thing was cute. He’d mellowed out since his high school days and seeing a therapist for anger management classes certainly helped.

The kitten felt warm and fuzzy in your arms, and when you stroked it down its back with the palm of your hand, it let out a satisfied purr.

“What should we name her?” Ochaco asked.

You thought about it for a moment. “Well, since you found her, and her fur is brownish, why not Coco?”

“Coco! I love it!” She beamed. Coco purred again. “It looks like she likes it too!”

You smiled and looked down on the kitty. “Coco,” You murmured. “Welcome to the family.”

Just then, Mina burst through the doors, brimming with energy and not looking at all as if she’d fainted from turkey overconsumption.

“Mina!” You ran towards her. “I thought you fainted or something!” You accused, poking her in the chest. “You didn’t even leave me on read!! You just LEFT!”

“Chill, chill, girly, I’m alive and kicking! Just had to take a quick nap because of my digestive woes,” She flashed you a big thumbs-up. “And what’s this I see? Do we have an agency pet now? Did Shinso sneak it in his pocket from the cat cafe?”

“Shinso what?”

“Cat cafe?”

“I KNEW there was something fishy about his jacket the other day!”

You, Tenya, and Ochaco said at the same time.

Mina stared at all of you, then shook her head. “Never mind.”

Turning around, you looked at Ochaco. “I wanna hear about this later, you hear?”

“Alright, alright!” Mina shouted. “Change into your holiday gear! Let’s get this rolling!”

You had made a sweater especially for tonight. Knitting was a great way to relax, and huddling up in a cozy armchair with the soft yarn, some hot cocoa, and your favorite book, you had finished your holiday-themed sweater in two weeks. Now, you would finally get the chance to wear it. The sweater you made was white, a soft gold-and-silver threading woven through in the pattern of snowflakes. It was a basic winter pattern, but you were proud of your work.

Setting Coco down on the couch, you headed into the locker rooms to change into your sweater and some flannel pajama bottoms. Walking out, you noticed Tenya was still in his business attire, which looked pretty uncomfortable by your standards, although it did fit him nicely.

“Tenya,” you called out. “Are you wearing that to the party?”

He turned around at your voice, looking slightly taken aback. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I am. Why?”

“Nothing, just wondering,” you replied. Good thing that your present to him was a nice, cozy, hand-knit sweater. You may or may not have thought about making him a matching one, but then you’d decided that it was too forward.

“You look…” Tenya stared at you. “You look…cute,” he said, with a small blush on his face.

Blushing at his compliment, you smiled and ducked your head. “Thanks.”

“Your sweater…it looks nice,” he added.  

Playing with the hems of your sleeves, you smiled up at him bashfully. “Thanks. I made it myself. I really like knitting. It’s kind of therapeutic.”

“Oh, wow. You are truly very talented, (Y/N)!” Tenya praised.

“Thanks.” You rubbed the back of your neck. It seemed like you had lost the ability to say anything else. Why did you suck so much at making small talk?

Just then, Mina stepped out from the locker room and saved you from any further embarrassment.

“Hey, has Yaomomo come down yet?” Mina asked.

“No, she hasn’t. Do you want me to go get her?” You answered.

“Nah, it’s alright, I’ll just text her real quick.” Mina pulled out her phone, fingers dancing rapidly across the screen, then put it back in her pocket. Minutes later, Momo stepped out of the elevator, already dressed in a red sweater and white jeans. She always looked so put-together. You were sure that she had a second quirk.

“Yaomomo!” Mina screeched, running up to her friend. “You’ll never guess what I ate for dinner!”

You groaned as Mina recounted her dining disaster. You loved Mina, but her tendency to tell her experiences to everyone multiple times could sometimes get a little annoying. Trying your best to tune her out, you tapped Tenya’s shoulder and moved to settle on the couch with Coco.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Mina shouted. “Come here!”

Begrudgingly, you stood up again, having just sat down moments earlier. “What is it, Mina?”

“We forgot to introduce Coco! Yaomomo hasn’t seen her yet!”

Oh right. You did forget. You lifted Coco with both hands, then scurried over to where Ochaco, Mina, and Momo huddled. Momo let out a quiet “aww” when she saw the kitty and lifted her manicured hands in a silent invitation to hold her.

You gently placed Coco in her outstretched arms and was about to turn and leave when Mina grabbed your elbow. “Not so fast, (Y/N),” she scolded you sternly. “Picture time!”

Mina took out her phone and swiped open the camera app. You girls all huddled together as she snapped a picture for the fans.

Settling back down with Coco on the couch, surrounded by your friends, you didn’t think that you had ever felt happier. One by one, more of your friends and coworkers began to trickle in, until finally, when a disgruntled Jirou arrived with a protesting Kaminari in tow, Mina stood up.

“Alright! Everyone’s here now, so let’s get this party rolling!”

She bounced off to the kitchen to grab plates for everyone. You could smell Sato’s freshly-baked cookies from here, and your stomach growled in response. Remembering the tiramisu that Emiko had made, you followed Mina into the kitchen.

Mina held a stack of plates that covered half her face. It was wobbling slightly, the entire thing almost toppling over multiple times. You had gotten out the fancier cake platter and was currently in hyper-focus mode, carefully moving the tiramisu from its cake mold onto the crystal platter. You breathed out a sigh of relief as the process was finally completed and the cake hadn’t been ruined.

Holding the crystal tray with both hands, you stepped out into the lobby, marched over to the coffee table in the center, and slowly set the tray down.

“Hey guys, Emiko made us some tiramisu,” You called out. “Come here if you want some.” You held a cake knife in your hand and began serving everyone.

Tenya watched all of this with barely-hidden admiration. You were just so competent. So hard-working, so kind, and so wonderfully skilled at everything you do. Even the things that you weren’t good at, you tried your hardest to learn and to improve. He was definitely in deep, and to be honest, he didn’t mind a single bit. You were worthy of being admired, and he vowed that he would let you know in all the ways he could.

As you served the last slice of tiramisu to Ojiro, you carried the cake platter back to the kitchen and sat down next to Shinsou, who was, not surprisingly, hogging all of Coco’s attention. Seeing you, Coco scrambled over Shinsou’s lap and faceplanted into yours. You laughed at her enthusiasm and snorted when you heard Shinsou mutter “traitor” underneath his breath.

“So Shinsou,” you started casually. “What’s this I hear about you stealing cats from the cat café?”

Shinsou’s face immediately turned a tomato red. He put his hands up defensively. “No, wait, you have it all wrong- I swear- who told you about it anyways? Never mind,” he stopped his waving motions. You snickered. You were definitely getting the full story out of him later. For now, you had things to do.

Strolling over casually to Tenya with Coco still in your arms, you very sneakily dropped her, front paws landing gracefully, onto Bakugou’s head.

“Hey! What’s this damn cat doing here!” Bakugou yelped. Coco also yelped, and it came to you that dropping her on Bakugou’s spikey hair was probably not the best idea ever. However, as Coco quickly scampered down and curled up on Bakugou’s shoulder, and Kirishima was sitting next to him to make sure he didn’t kill the cat, you felt a sense of triumph. Bakugo was smiling. Not smirking, not grinning maniacally as he beat someone up, but genuinely smiling. You gave yourself an internal high five as you moved onto your next goal.

You walked hesitantly towards Tenya, and when he turned his head towards you, about to ask what you were doing, you quickly linked your hand with his and started leading him towards the rest of the group.

“(Y-Y/N) ?” Tenya sputtered. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” You replied cheekily. “I want to hold hands with you!”

“B-but, do they know?” Tenya gestured nervously with his free hand.

“Nope, but they’re about to,” you grimaced, thinking about all the teasing you’d have to endure from your friends later. Better to just get this over with during the party, when everyone had the attention span of a goldfish and any embarrassing moments would hopefully be forgotten moments later when more exciting things came along, such as Mineta’s annual lingerie gift. Whatever the powers that be were doing, they were definitely not doing the world any favors when they let Mineta draw a girl for the Secret Santa every single year. But, for all the bad things you could say about Mineta, he definitely consumes enough material to have at least semi-decent taste in lingerie. Surprising, and sometimes gross, but not entirely unwelcomed if you could manage to forget who gifted it. The most disturbing thing was he knew all the girls’ sizes. You tried your hardest to not think about that. It’s not like you could erase his memory anyways.

You settled down with Tenya on a vacant couch, inwardly counting the minutes until someone noticed your position. Tenya looked vaguely uncomfortable, his posture ramrod straight, and you squeezed his hand in reassurance.

“No one’s going to judge or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about,” you whispered into his ear. “And besides, at least half the girls already knew I had a crush on you, so this won’t entirely come as news to them.”

Tenya relaxed slightly at that, then stiffened again when he noticed a pair of eyes glancing his way.

Midoriya had been excited at seeing Ochaco for the first part of the evening, but then had wondered where his other friend had gone. He knew Tsu was in southern Japan, as she couldn’t stand the cold and was operating in the warm coastal areas instead, but Iida being absent was strange. He had searched around the lobby, and when his eyes descended upon you and Iida cuddling on the couch, he was intrigued, to say the least.

He stared at the two of you for a solid minute, not wanting to disturb your peace. Slowly, he turned back to Ochaco, thinking that it wasn’t his place to draw attention to the two of you.

Ochaco, however, had no such qualms. Noticing how Deku began to space out during their conversation, she followed his line of vision to the two of you, blinked twice to check if she was seeing it right, then immediately let out a squeal.

Heads turned at the sound, and in moments, everyone was staring at you and Tenya curiously. You hadn’t noticed the attention yet, but Tenya had, and he grew stiffer and stiffer until you finally looked up at his face with furrowed brows.

“Tenya, what’s wrong?” You whispered. “Do you not enjoy cuddling? I can stop if you’d like,” your lips were pressed together in concern.

“I-it’s not that,” Tenya whispered back. “Look.”

You finally raised your head from his chest and saw thirty pairs of eyes staring back. After a few moments of silence, the room erupted.

“Iida-kun! Why didn’t you tell us?” Midoriya was the first to raise a question.

“(Y/NNNNNN)!!!!!!!!!!!” Mina practically screamed as she ran towards you. She clasped her hands dramatically over her heart. “YOU DID IT YOU DID IT YOU DID IT OMG YOU GUYS ARE SO ADORABLE EEEEE!!!!!!”

Half the room winced at her loud tone, and you quickly moved Coco from your lap to save her from the incoming bear hug.

Mina launched herself in your arms, then stepped back and shook your shoulders until you felt your brain rattling around in your skull like soupy mush.

“(Y/N)! What did I say, huh? Bitch I TOLD you that he liked you too, and you wait three goddamn months to finally make a move!?! Honey-”

Your face flushed red. Gently, you pushed her away. “Mina, stop,” you whispered, horrified that she was making a scene. It was too late. Ochaco and Hagakure rushed towards you, Momo trailing more slowly behind them. The boys were stunned for a bit, since you had always seemed so quiet and shy, much less Iida’s feelings towards you. As their initial shock wore off, Midoriya trailed after Momo to approach Iida.

“Congratulations, Iida-kun!” He held up his arms in front of his chest. “You and (Y/N) are really cute together!”

“Yeah bro! That’s so manly that you finally confessed!” Kirishima added, with a quirk of his lips and a thumbs-up.

“Tch. Fucking coward. Took you idiots three fucking months to confess, huh.” Bakugou smirked, but you could tell he wasn’t really annoyed. You actually somewhat got along with him, due to all the times Mina would drag you to hang out with her friends.

You struggled vainly against the arms of your friends encasing you. “Guys,” you pleaded. “Let me out, please.”

Reluctantly, the girls let go, and you immediately tried to redirect their attention. “Shouldn’t we start opening presents?” You asked hopefully.

“Oh, you sneaky little thing,” Mina wagged her finger in your face. “Don’t think we’ll forget about this, (Y/N), but you’re right, we should start opening presents or we’ll be here all night.”

“We’ll be here all night anyways,” Todoroki pointed out.

“You knew what I meant,” Mina sighed.

Mina enlisted the help of Ojiro and Shoji to pass out the Secret Santa presents; you’d all open the rest of your personal presents later.

The best way to go about this, after years of trial and error, was for everyone to open their presents at the same time. It would simply take too long for everyone to open theirs one by one, and you’d all realized that the people who opened theirs first had a significant disadvantage when it came to guessing who their partner was, as the ones who opened theirs later had the benefit of some options already being eliminated. When you opened your present, you tried your hardest to hold back a squeal. It was a limited-edition album from your favorite artist! You hugged it close to your chest, and immediately knew who gave it to you. Jirou. Her parents were musicians too, and you had bonded over your love of this artist. It was a thoughtful gift, and you were glad that she had given it to you, even though it immediately gave her away.

The rest of your friends opened their presents. Poor Momo. No wonder Mineta had looked so gleeful earlier. He had been her Secret Santa and had gotten her a lacy black lingerie set. Her face was so red you were beginning to get scared that she would hyperventilate, but you had to admit that it was a pretty nice set. Mineta was basically drooling at this point, and Jirou was trying to comfort her while sending a death glare towards Mineta. Mineta, meanwhile, had received a new video game. Sero had received a large pack of farmer’s market coupons, as well as some homemade mochi from Ochaco, who had blushed and apologized profusely for not being able to afford something better for him. Sero just grinned and gave her a thumbs-up, saying that it was completely okay and that he appreciated her effort into gift-giving. She had brightened up a bit at that.

Koda had received a new hamster wheel along with some toys for his various pets. Shoji had been gifted a comfortable-looking poncho, as well as three pairs of matching gloves. Ochaco had received a generous sum of money, Midoriya had gotten a new set of comic books, and Iida had received a beanie and a multiflavored pack of tea. Aoyama had received a makeup set, and had gifted a makeup set as well, evidenced by his inability to contain himself and pounced on Hagakure, asking if she liked it. Hagakure was ecstatic, babbling about how she could finally show her face and how she’d never really been able to afford a full set before and how Aoyama was so considerate.

Sato had received a new baking pan, as well as cute mittens and a trending recipe book. He had given Setsuna a batch of cookies, as well as a gallon of frozen cookie dough with instructions on how to make it. There wasn’t really a point in him trying to win the contest, since he would be one of the people providing the prize. Mina had gotten fuzzy socks and a blanket, Kirishima had received a new pair of tennis shoes, and Jirou had been gifted a new pair of headphones. Ojiro had received some sort of custom tail armor with spikes along with an Amazon gift card, and Todoroki had gotten a hand-made red-and-white sweater with a red reindeer nose smack in the middle, along with a gift card to a hair salon, tucked into a bouquet of red-and-white candy canes. The only person you could think of that would go so far into the color scheme was Hagakure, who seemed like just the type to make an ugly sweater for fun. Shinsou had received earmuffs, a silk eye mask with a note (“to help you sleep”), and some gourmet coffee beans (“in case you still can’t”). Mina had seen the little notes that came with his gifts and started teasing him relentlessly about how sweet his Secret Santa was and how it was so cute that he had a secret admirer. Shinsou looked very nonchalant about it all and grumbled about how he just wanted to pet Coco and then go to bed.

Finally, Kaminari received some Pokémon cards to add to his collection (yes, he collected Pokémon cards, what was wrong with that?) along with another Pikachu plush, as per usual. It was an unspoken tradition that whoever drew Kaminari for their Secret Santa would get him a Pikachu plush along with whatever else they decided to give him. He had about twenty, collected over various years from birthdays and holidays. If this kept up, he’d be able to fill an entire closet with them once he retired.

As the chatter slowly died down, you snuggled into Tenya again. At some point during the present exchange, Shinsou had stolen Coco from the couch you occupied. Stifling a yawn, you pulled out a bag and handed it to Tenya.

“What’s this?” He asked, a slight smile on his face.

“It’s your gift, silly,” you booped him on the nose with your index finger.

“Ah, I see,” he replied, still smiling. “Do you want me to open it?”

“Duh,” you giggled into his chest. “What else would you do with it?”

Chuckling lightly, Tenya removed the tissue paper from the top of the bag. He stuck his hand inside, then pulled out a sweater. The sweater that you’d knitted for him. It was navy, the color of the yarn matching his hair, with gold and white snowflake detailing. His heart skipped a beat when he realized that you had made this especially for him, with your own hands. Putting the sweater down beside him, he wrapped his arms around you and pressed his face to your hair.

“Thank you, (Y/N),” he whispered. “I love it.”

You flushed, but you hugged him back. “You’d better,” you teased. “I spent two weeks on that.”

“Well, I appreciate it.” Tenya ruffled your hair.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, just soaking in the pleasant atmosphere. Yawning, you stretched out your arms, careful not to hit Tenya in the face. You gently pushed his arm off of your torso and got up to go to the bathroom.

When you came back, Tenya was nowhere to be seen. You searched around the common area and stepped briefly into the kitchen, but he wasn’t there. Sighing, you grabbed your parka and padded outside.

“Tenya?” You called out as you stuck your head around the doorframe. He was with Kirishima and Todoroki, clearing the entryway of the building of snow. You leaned back along the handrails of the stairs and watched. Your friends were all just so nice. So caring, so wonderful, so kind. As Todoroki evaporated the last bit of snow, you stepped aside to let them all head back in. As Tenya reached you, he paused briefly, looking up.

“What?” You tilted your head up also, curious to see what he was staring at. Oh. So this was where Mina and Ochaco had decided to hang the mistletoe. If Tenya hadn’t looked up, you would’ve missed its existence entirely. You looked back down at Tenya to gauge his reaction.

He gulped, and softly taking your chin into his hand, he leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss on your lips. You leaned up to meet him, rising slightly on your toes and wrapping your arms around his neck. The kiss was long and sweet, and you were both a bit breathless when you let go.

You smiled sweetly up at him and took his strong hand in yours. Standing on your tiptoes again, you pressed another soft kiss to his cheek.

“Merry Christmas.”

Masterlist

[xlehukax]

Still Beating Heart

Foreword: Hello! I’ve been working on this thing for a little while now, and it’s finally done! This fanfiction is set in the Pediatric Doctors AU that I made, that you can learn more about here.  It’s done in conjunction to writings by @eeveeeclair246​, to who has the first installment of this series, titled Inefficent Iron, which you can find here. And, if you don’t want to read on Tumblr, I get it! This will also be on Archives in a hot minute, so check my Masterpost for the link. Now, on with the show!

Ships: Roman x Virgil, Implied Remus x Logan

Word Count: 10215

Warnings: LANGUAGE, Alcoholism, Bars, Panic Attacks, Medical Issues (ie. weak hearts), Cheating, Implied Sexual Content, Implied Rape, that creeping feeling of regret. 

Summary: Virgil’s always been the quiet nurse, the prickly one, the don’t talk to me unless there’s an issue one. Roman’s fresh out of a relationship, and looking to go out on the town, and needs a friend to go along with. And Virgil can’t say no to his crush, even if they work in the same place. 

~~~~

It’s just another day at the office: by that, Virgil means, Patton’s handing out cookies, Logan’s being a work-aholic and refuses to let any of the patients go to Janus, in which is being very meticulous and annoyingly good at his job and refusing to let Virgil do his, Remus is going through the latest urine samples, and Roman is doing what Roman does best. Ranting about his latest breakup while painting his nails in the receptionist booth. 

And Virgil just happens to be the only one around, after Patton leads the last patient of the day to Logan and the waiting room finally empties. Virgil simply sighs in defeat, and tries to shrink into his nurse uniform. Let it be known, he did not choose to be there. Or ever.

“Emo, are you even listening?” 

“Yup, yes, I am, absolutely,” 

“Alright, just had to make sure, you know, you tend to ignore me, which you’d think is impossible but you never cease to surprise me in that regard. Anyway, so this guy, Ethan- total dreamboat, eyes bluer than you’d ever believe. So I met him on this app, and we went for drinks a few weeks ago: and thirty minutes in, I’m in love. He’s a painter. Sweetest guy- we end up at his apartment, and you know- but I was in it for the long haul. Virgil, I was really ready for a long-term with this guy. He seemed  like he was down for it too… and then, just yesterday, you know what I found in his apartment?” 

“Another person,” Virgil sighs.

“Some floozy, blond and covered in hickeys, and Ethan painting her. Like, I didn’t know what to be more offended about: the fact that he cheated on me or that he doesn’t have a sexy painting of me!” 

“Mhmm…” Virgil’s almost fallen asleep, and doesn’t even notice Roman hovering utop him until he’s right in his face. 

“Virgil-” Roman shouts, and Virgil startles right into Roman’s arms. Which he now is realizing quite quickly are not just incredibly strong because they hold his weight easily, but landing their faces inches apart. Virgil sucks in a gasp- Roman smirks. “Hey there… you know, you’re not too bad looking yourself. Under all that makeup, you’re quite the princess, aren’t you?” It takes Virgil a moment to craft a response, he’s so scatterbrained and blushing. 

“Fuck off Princey, I’m not your latest conquest,” Virgil hisses, still a large flush on his features. Roman flicks his nose. 

“Yeah, but you’re still cute. Maybe I should date you~” 

“In your fucking dreams- you cycle through boyfriends so fast, I’ll be dust in the wind,” 

“Hmm,” Roman still hasn’t let Virgil go, and it is not helping the warmth in his face whatsoever, “Can’t argue with that.” And then Virgil is unceremoniously dumped onto the chair he was sitting in, with Roman towering above him. Did he always have those pretty eyes? He’s got these fantastically plump lips, it really shows when he’s smirking like that. And that hair is quite… quite royal-  now that he’s looking at it- 

Bloody hell, stop, now’s not the time to fawn, Virgil curses at himself. Virgil has always been introverted, and this- this interaction, Roman’s boldness with him… it’s completely unfamiliar. A bold move, reaching into his space, completely ignoring all of the protective glares and hisses that Virgil had in place. Disregarded his shields completely. Virgil has been harboring a bit of an infatuation with this confident musical wonder as of late, and this is not helping matters. Roman chuckles, running a hand through his hair. 

“Well, J.Delightful, now I simply must make use of this situation,” 

“What are you getting at-” Virgil snarls, to which Roman simply grins widely.

“You’re going to be my new wingman. There’s a open mic at a gay bar I frequent, and if I’m going to find somebody, then I need someone else to be my safety buddy. You know, watch for creepy old men who hit on me and all that jazz,” Roman pushes, eyes alight with excitement, “Patton won’t go with me anymore because he doesn’t like the loud noises, Logan doesn’t drink, I’m not asking Janus to come he’ll scare them all away or steal the attention, and Remus- well, you can probably guess why not Remus, and it’s not because people approach us because we’re twins. I can’t believe I’ve never asked you to come with me! It’ll give us some good outside of work bonding time too. Isn’t it great?” 

“I don’t want to,” Virgil grumbles. Roman tuts. 

“Oh come on now- am I so hard to be around?” No, Virgil thinks, and that’s the problem. “Pfft, if it’s really so hard, I’ll just cave and bring around someone else.” 

“No…” Virgil whispers, so quiet that he’s sure it’s nearly silent, and Roman’s eyebrow perks up. 

“Hmm? Was that a no I just heard?” 

“I just- I’m not good in social situations, do you even really want me there? I’ll probably just screw your chances, scare people off,” 

“Perfect! I’ll need someone to scare someone off,” 

“But- I’ll damper on your fun,” 

“Never! You will never cease to be fun to poke fun at,” 

“I don’t know, Princey. You really want me there?” Virgil says, looking away and speaking in hushed tones still. Roman grabs his pale hands, squeezing them tightly. 

“I need you, Virge,” Roman purrs. Virgil blushes harder, somehow, and tucks his head into his shoulder and murmurs his agreement. Damn it. “Wonderful! I’ll pick you up at 9, how does that sound?” 

“Wait, tonight?” Virgil squawks. Roman drops his hands, blessedly, and steps back from him shrewdly. Smart, as Virgil’s immediate response is to throw a punch. Roman easily sidesteps. 

“Oh, yes- did I not mention that? Tonight. It’s Friday,” Roman nods, smiling wickedly. Oh my god, I need to bathe, I need to find something nice-ish to wear, unearth my good eyeshadow, fuck it all I need new skin- 

“Hey, hey, don’t freak. You don’t have to get all fancy for me: wear what makes you comfortable, and I’ll stop by your apartment at 9,” 

“Wait a second- how do you know where I live?” Virgil says, suddenly horrified. Roman snickers. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Uh, yes I would,” Virgil growls. 

“Pfft, I need to know everyone’s addresses, I’m the receptionist, Virge. It’s my job,” Roman scoffs. Virgil blushes: well, now he feels foolish. But it reminds him: Roman and himself work together. It doesn’t matter if something comes out of this, as it is- Remus and Logan are constantly being sickeningly cute around the office. The real problem is if he screws this up, and still has to go to work with him the next day. This is a really bad idea. But… When will he have another golden opportunity like this one? 

“Okay, okay- 9, right?”

“Yes! Thank you, My Chemically Imbalanced Romance- you’re going to have so much fun. I’ll sing a song just for you, as thanks,” Roman grins cheekily, Virgil blows the hair out of his eyes, attempting nonchalant despite the whirlwind of anxiety confined within. 

“Alright, fine, whatever. Should I- should I dress a certain way? Wait, is there a dress code? How much money should I bring? Is it credit or cash? Do they have food there? Will I have to dance?” Virgil shudders at the thought of dancing, even with Roman, who is currently blinking rapidly under the onslaught of questions. 

“Okay erm, just dress how you normally do? Scratch that, a peg hotter than a hoodie, thank you. No dress code, have you ever been to a bar? Just bring your wallet, think about how many drinks you want, and I’m dancing whether you’re going to or not, so-” 

Virgil takes notes internally, already too worried about this whole ordeal. He should really just cancel, say he just remembered something, but he knows he’ll regret that later. Either way, the only other thing he’s doing tonight is hanging with his spider, Missy, and watching Unsolved Mysteries. So…

“I’ll- I’ll see you later then, Princey,” Virgil murmurs, before gathering the few things he has around him and breezing past whilst trying to make it appear like he’s not running away. 

“See you!! At least pretend to be excited- It’s going to be one hell of a night, Virge- you won’t regret this!” 

As Virgil silently clocks out (Patton will take over the end of the day nurse activities, it’s fine) he thinks to himself, I certainly hope not. 

~~~~~

And then, it’s already 8:50, too soon. Virgil showered, twice, because the first time he used his usual unscented body wash for work and not the one that smells like lavender and violets and by jove Roman inviting him out after work deserves more than unscented. Then the clothes resulted in a mini fashion show in front of the mirror for an hour, where upon he finally settled on a black button down over a grey undershirt with some black ripped jeans (it took him another 25 minutes to decide on mostly untucked in a ‘I just threw this on’ careless feel), and his favorite purple and black hoodie just in case it got cold… of which he ended up shivering right away anyhow and put it on anyway. 

And then a whole other hour on makeup: a very tasteful black eyeliner and purple and black smokey eye with just a hint of dark glitter. Some lipstick, and a little dust on his cheekbones, and Virgil finally felt confident, an emotion that lasted all of ten minutes when he realized that he hadn’t chosen a pair of shoes yet. 

The shoes took another thirty minutes alone. And then the idea of changing his hair up a little occurred to him, and that was another hour wasted that ended with keeping his regular low-hanging hair anyway. 

And now he’s trying not to look like he’s waiting, because he doesn’t want to be waiting on Roman, but he needs to see if his car comes up, but he doesn’t want to be desperate, so he’s panicking slightly in his apartment with all the lights off because he was going to leave and now he’s freaking out instead, because he doesn’t know if it’s more appropriate to wait for Roman to text him that he’s outside and head downstairs after that or to just head downstairs now like a normal person or maybe he just shouldn’t go. His head slowly stops pounding, and his breath evens out, the oncoming anxiety attack fading away with the thought. Yeah, maybe Virgil can stay home instead- there’s too many variables anyway. 

When Virgil was young, he was always making decisions like this. He was sick, not like crazy-sick, but sick. Anemia, coupled with coronary heart disease, topped off with bronchitis. He had weak lungs, weak heart, weak blood- his whole body was frail, and sometimes his blood didn’t move around fast enough to make him work right. There was no running around, no nothing: he was constantly worried about every little thing, because his parents were. Did you take your pills today? How was your bloodwork? Are you feeling woozy? Until Virgil just stopped leaving the house whatsoever. It was just easier. There was no chance of passing out while crossing a street and getting run over, never going to embarrass himself at school by having a heart attack… 

And wouldn’t you know, staying at home made him only sicker. No muscle mass whatsoever, pale as a ghost, always so cold, so frail from not getting enough nutrients. His parents made the best decision of their lives and set him down the path that led him here by… by hiring a nurse. A kind nurse, with funny jokes and encouragement, who helped him go outside for the first time in months. Who taught him little things to make him stronger, like light weights. Virgil grew out of his heart disease, and though he still had bronchitis and anemia, he regularly took medications which made them easy to handle. And just like that, Virgil was no longer sickly (at least externally, he still had anxiety, but he’s managing it). Then he was a normal teenager, who wanted to be strong enough to help someone in the same way that nurse had. 

 Here Virgil is now- and he’s not going to fall into that same loop he was in as a kid. He’s better now, medicating only when needed. Virgil is all lean-muscle, and he’s better than his anxiety. He can totally go on a date-not-a-date with his crush to a gay karaoke bar. Totally. Taking a deep breath, Virgil checks his phone (which is fully charged with two mini backup batteries on his keys tucked into his back pocket) and realizes with horror that Roman texted a whole six minutes ago while Virgil was panicking that he was waiting downstairs.

“Shit!” Virgil slams his door, and just runs down the stairs instead of taking the elevator (he only lives on the fourth floor anyway, because anything higher than like 10 fire ladders can’t get to and there’s a 50% possibility of surviving a fall from four stories), and hopes his meticulous makeup job isn’t ruined. By Roman’s expression, he doesn’t think it did- 

He had been grinning teasingly, mouth open to say some quip, but his jaw goes slack when he sees Virgil. Roman’s eyes are wide, leaning up against his red car, as he watches Virgil stop by the curb only a few feet in front of him. Roman whistles.

“Damn, Virgil… you look- damn. Wowza, do you clean up nice,” Roman falls over his words, making Virgil flush. Roman thinks I look good- I did good, it’s all good. 

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Princey,” Virgil whispers. Because really, he doesn’t: Roman’s white dress shirt has the top two buttons undone, showing off his pectorals and just a hint of his abs, and some nice pants. His hair is done over to the side, and one crown earring hangs from an ear. It’s really a delightful look, but makes Virgil feel out of place with his dark clothes and his heavy makeup. Roman only has a light bit. “Did I go overboard? I can- I can wash it off,” Virgil asks, hating that he’s offering to change this intensive and difficult look for a stupid guy.

“No, no- you look gorgeous. Seriously Virge, you should do my makeup. Like, I feel outdone, and I never feel that way! Come on, get on in, let’s go,” Roman shoos Virgil into the car, where he feels just as much if not more awkward. Still, he’s excited, out of this world excited: Roman likes how he looks. Roman finds him attractive, and they’re going to the club, together. 

Not together, Virgil- you’re just his buddy. Virgil has to remind him that this is not a date, that he’s gotten all worried and dressed up for sitting at a bar and watching Roman flirt with other men. It makes his heart ache, but at least they’re together now .

“We’re almost there, Emo. You ready to have a good time?” 

“I uh- erm, I mean. Yeah. Yeah sure, I’ll have fun sitting in the corner doing fucking nothing, that’s what I’m ready for,” Virgil’s suddenly defensive and feels horrible about the crude outburst. 

“Oh my- Virge, do you not want to go? I don’t want to force you into anything!” No, I do, I do! 

“Eh, it’s whatever. I got all dressed up, be a shame to not go out. I just- I don’t like to- I’m-” 

“I know you don’t like being left alone! Don’t worry, I’ll be close by the whole time. I’ll watch you if you watch me, yeah?” 

“Why are you so worried about being watched? You’ve clearly been to a lot of these things…” Virgil changes the subject to hide his flush at Roman’s empathy for him. 

“Ah, well- I have been to a lot of these things, and I’ve had some… unfavorable experiences. A few times now, guys have put stuff in my drinks, or waited for me to get drunk and then take me home. It’s… it’s not what I want. I go to meet new people, not to get a one-night stand that I didn’t want. They don’t make me feel good. I hate it,” Roman growls at the road, and Virgil makes what might be a rash decision and places his long pale hands on Roman’s tanned worn ones by the gearshift. Roman looks over at him, and Virgil ducks his head. Roman smiles. 

“I’ll watch out for you, I promise. I don’t really drink either, ‘cuz of my blood issues, so I can drive home too,” Virgil murmurs, still looking away. Roman moves his hand around, grips his tightly. Virgil doesn’t look at it, but knows they’re intertwined, and it makes his head hurt. 

“Thank you, Virge. Aaand, we’re here,” the bar is bright in the dark evening, a neon sign advertising it, and Roman pulls into a parking space behind the building. He takes his key, and reaches out to put it in Virgil's pocket. “Don’t trust myself to hand em over, this thing’s my baby. I’m trusting you, though, and you gotta be good about that, alright?” 

Virgil nods, and allows Roman to exit the car and help him out the other side. Roman throws his arm over Virgil’s shoulders, and saunters into the bar. As expected, it is loud. Someone’s already singing, a song by Chicago, and is doing pretty okay. There are bright lights here and there, some spots illuminated completely and others in darkness. There’s a whole load of people here too: some make eyes at him as he walks in. Virgil sticks to Roman, who chuckles, as they both head to the bar. The bartender seems to recognize Roman. 

“Here for the open mic, are you, King?” 

“You know it! Sign me right on up,” Roman laughs. Roman’s arm drops from Virgil’s shoulders. The bartender rolls his eyes, swipes some green dyed locks from his vision and writes Roman’s name on a pad. 

“What song are you singing?” 

“It’s a surprise, like usual, Vincent, I don’t know why you even bother asking,” 

“Uh huh. And I see you brought a friend… you wanna sing too, baby-cheeks?” Vincent asks, leaning forwards. 

Virgil hisses at him, then clears his throat.

“I don’t fucking sing,” he snarls, adding in his mind, in public. Vincent smiles knowingly. 

“Aha, a feisty one. You really know how to pick em’, eh? Can I get you a drink then?” Virgil feels like he’s about to explode: this is not what he signed up for. He is here to be with Roman and watch out for him, not take this guy’s shit. Roman notices, and slings his arm once more over him. 

“Nah, just a work colleague. He’s a nurse~ and doesn’t drink. It’s a shame, I know, but it’ll work better in my favor anyway. I’ll save money on the taxi. Incredible Sulk, how does a black coffee sound?” 

“I guess that’s okay,” Virgil grumbles, glaring at this man even as he shrugs and complies. They both take a seat at the bar, Roman ordering some complicated fancy thing to match his personality and Virgil immediately hunching over his hot coffee. It’s surprisingly good for a bar, bitter yet flavourful, and Virgil finds himself smiling down at it. 

“Eh, I think that smile says it’s more than just okay!” Roman purrs, shimmying closer to Virgil and bumping their shoulders. It seems as though the alcohol is already having an effect, his disposition somehow brighter. Virgil shies away slightly. Someone else saddles up to the bar and introduces himself. This man has long swoopy raven hair, and is even more lanky than Logan. He leans by Roman, eyes colder than Virgil would like. The dark haired fellow decides to listen in on the conversation… just in case. 

“Hey, do I know you from somewhere?” the stranger says. Roman puts his hand on the bar, slurps the rest of his drink down in one go.

“I’m not sure- I do tend to get around. Where do you think you know me from, blue eyes?” Oh no. The guy’s got blue eyes, he didn’t even notice that. Virgil mourns his only chance at getting with Roman- this guy’s stealing it. 

 “Oh, I know! The theatre, right? You were Jason Dean in the Heathers production! Scary shit, man. You’re a fantastic singer. Hey, can we get another drink?” the stranger waves over Vincent, who fixes Roman another bright cocktail. Roman immediately starts fiddling with the straw, and looks up at the stanger. 

“The name’s Roman. What’s yours?”

“I’m Lucian. It’s nice to meet you. Man, it’s so loud here: I wish we could go~,” Lucian says. Virgil narrows his eyes at the stranger, takes another sip of coffee. Roman smirks, and turns and winks at Virgil as if to say Look at this catch. Virgil tries to smile, but is pretty sure it’s just a grimace. It may just be Virgil’s luck (despite how it affects Roman) but Virgil notices Lucian dropping something in Roman’s drink. Virgil slams the table, slaps Lucian, and pushes the drink away. He fists his hand in Lucian’s shirt, able to lift the man a foot or two in the air. Patrons gawk at the events unfolding, Roman seems shocked. 

“Don’t fucking touch Roman’s drink, what the fuck did you put in there you bastard?” 

“Dude- that’s my drink. It was a little additive, I can consume alcohol without risk without it! He seemed to be enjoying it so much, I asked for one too, can you please- let me down, you’re hurting me-” Virgil snarls, but drops him anyway. Roman touches Virgil’s shoulder gently. 

“He’s right, it’s his drink, Virgil. Thank you for defending me, but really it’s okay-” Roman reassures him, smiling placatingly, and all Virgil can feel is embarrassed. Embarrassed out of his mind and his anxiety is shooting through the roof. 

“I-I… I- uh… I-” to make matters worse, another man comes stomping up to him, throws his drink on Virgil. His hoodie is now soaked, his shirt too. Virgil’s lower lip trembles. He grits his jaw against them, holding it in. Despite the fact that he’s made a total fool of himself in front of Roman. Virgil wants to bite his nails, to go home, to run away and never return. This new man points his finger right in Virgil’s face. 

“Who the hell do you think you are, grabbing my husband’s shirt like that?” he growls. Virgil wants to hide in his sopping wet hoodie. Hide and never come back. 

“I- erm, uh- umm-” 

“My friend here is very sorry, there’s been a misunderstanding. Hey, can I buy the both of you a drink? Tell me how you met,” Roman leads them both away, looking pityingly at Virgil, “How bout you go to the bathroom and clean yourself up a little, huh? I’ll take care of this.” 

Virgil ducks his head and runs with his tail between his legs. He throws himself into the surprisingly clean stall and locks it tight before falling down on the seat fully clothed. I can’t believe you did that you fucking idiot you’ll never shape up what were you thinking doing some stupid stunt like that? You’ve ruined it. Ruined everything. There’s no way Roman will ever want you now. Virgil’s panic attack is coming on quickly, like a train hurtling down a track with no end in sight. He doesn’t want it to happen, but he starts to cry. 

Usually, Virgil looks to his familiar hoodie for comfort. But his hoodie is soaked, and Virgil is shivering in it. He should take it off. But he doesn’t want to, he just wants to wallow in it and wither away. 

You’ll never amount to anything. You should have just stayed inside: no one would have missed you. Roman had to clean up after your mess, you were supposed to be helping and now you’re just rotting in the bathroom like an idiot. Why did you even come, if you’re just going to be a let down? 

Virgil’s breath is coming out in uneven gasps, his heart is palpitating dangerously. He really shouldn’t be alone, he should go out and- no, no, no. His skin is too tight, his head is too small, and his hands are pressing bruises into his arms, he is holding them so tight. What is he supposed to do again? When his thoughts get too big for his mind and he feels like fainting, feels like how he was when he was younger and like his heart could just give out any minute and the next time he blinked open his eyes he’d be on a hospital bed. 

His hazy, anxiety-filled mind vaguely recalls a conversation he had with Logan  once, after he had pulled him back from an attack in the workplace (he mixed up two patients and fell apart in an empty room) that he should… he should ask for help. Call me, he had said, no matter the time. Just call me for help, and I’ll talk it out with you. 

Logan is on speedial, Logan, Logan can help- with shaking fingers, Virgil can just make out the emergency phone button on his cell to call Logan. 

The ringing of the phone helps station Virgil, stations him better than the pain in his hands. It picks up on the fifth ring. 

“Hello, Doctor Logan Berry speaking.” 

“Logan,” Virgil’s voice sounds so fucking raspy and teary, sounds so horrendously uncertain, “You- you said to call, and- if you’re busy just hang up, it’s fine you don’t have to worry, actually this was a bad idea, I’m going to hang up-” 

“You will do no such thing, Virgil. Stay on the line with me. Scale of one to ten, how bad?” 

“I- uh, I dunno, probably like- like a seven? I messed everything up, Lo, I- fuck, I can’t do anything right-” 

“Well, that is one foul-tempered lie. Let’s calm down first, yes, and then you’ll tell me all about what happened. I’m sure it’s better than it seems,” Janus’s voice, even hindered through the phone, forces Virgil to relax. He had no idea that Janus could hear, but apparently they’re together. His mind recalls lamely that tonight is when they get together to go over payments and make sure everything is in order. A part of him is glad that Janus can hear; He’s like a hypnotist with his voice, a snake. Virgil nods, then another wave of idiocy flows through him because it’s over the phone. 

“Okay, Virgil, now exhale through your mouth. I want to hear it through the telephone,” Logan instructs, no nonsense. 

Virgil shakily breathes out. 

“Good. Now close your mouth and inhale quietly through your nose. I’m going to count to four, alright?” 

“O-okay,” Virgil complies, breathing it in. Janus counts him off rhythmically over the phone: Logan’s on the right and Janus on the left, and the result is relaxing. 

“Hold your breath now for seven seconds. I’ll count for you once more.” Janus-

“Exhale again, for a total of eight seconds. Here we go-” Logan- 

“Exceptional work, darling. You’re doing so well. Let’s repeat the process a few more times, how does that sound?” Janus-

Holy hell, do they make a good team. 

And just like that, Virgil feels better. His chest eases, his mind soothes, and he’s no longer shaking. 

“Thank you, both of you. That was- it was really fucking helpful. I don’t know what would happen if I was here alone,” 

“If you don’t mind me asking… where is here?” Logan asks, dry and with no sense of privacy whatsoever. 

“I’m at a bar with Roman. He- he invited me, because he wanted backup, and I made a total fool of myself. I got all aggressive on this guy who did nothing wrong,” 

“Aha, jealous?” There’s a sound of Janus wrestling the phone from Logan, much to his displeasure, “Just finish this weeks, Berry-” is heard through the phone. 

“Maybe… hey, wait a second! Who told you-” 

“I’m not blind, Virgil. Nor stupid. Don’t even try that on me. It might work on the nerd, and even Remus and Patton, but unlike them, I’m not clueless,” 

Virgil pouts, grunting softly. Is he really that obvious? 

“Whatever! And now… I’ve got no chance with him. I don’t know why I even came here, anyone could see that it was a stupid idea.” 

“No- well, yes, this was very stupid and most likely going to end in strife, but you still certainly have a chance! Remember, this is Roman we’re talking about: he’s a carousel when it comes to men, always changing.” 

“That’s part of the issue, Jan- where am I? I’ll be left behind, and have to watch as he finds a another and another and another-” 

“You’re starting to panic again, Virgil. Calm yourself. And I know that won’t happen.” 

“How?”

“You’re more perceptive, attentive, and caring than any of those guys will ever be. Roman would be even more of an idiot than either of us could possibly imagine if he were to let you go. Again, I am not blind: I see how good you are with the patients. You are careful and thoughtful. Despite how you might see yourself, Virgil, you are a good person. A wonderful person, who makes mistakes, but always fixes them. You do not leave them behind you. You feel empathy, and guilt, two very humane things, and you remedy your problems. That’s what happened with me, wasn’t it?” 

“Yeah… I guess, I guess you’re right,” Virgil’s blushing again. It’s true, that he doesn't like to leave things unsaid or unfinished: it makes him terribly worried, and the only solution he’s found is confronting them head on. Janus and Virgil had met long ago, when they were both younger: Janus had just started medical practices, and done work for Virgil. It ultimately failed and hurt Virgil more, which sparked deep hatred on Virgil’s side and a continued regret on Janus’s. They eventually reconciled, reuniting later when Virgil started out as a nurse, and everything had become much better. 

“Now, get back out there, darling. You’ll do great.” 

“...Thanks, Janus,” 

“Anytime,” and with that, Janus hangs up the phone to return to Logan. Virgil sighs to himself, and exits the stall: in the mirror, he sees his makeup all ruined. He washes it off, cleans his hoodie (which is relatively drier now) and ends up taking off the damp shirt as well. Thank goodness he’s wearing an undershirt: walking out topless seems hellish, and this only slightly better. 

It’s been a while since Virgil has gone anywhere without his hoodie on or makeup. He barely recognizes himself, and he sees this face every morning. But… it’ll be what it’ll be. Checking his phone, Virgil realizes that he’s been in the bathroom for… nearly two hours? 

Oh my god, I hope Roman hasn’t left yet-  Virgil flies out of the bathroom, holding his damp dress shirt and beloved hoodie in one crooked arm. Scanning the room, he notices Roman sitting at one of the small square tables watching some guy sing “Mad World” somewhat decently. Virgil sighs in relief, and walks over and sits right in front of him. 

“Princey, thank god you’re still here. I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” Virgil says, his voice softer than usual from all the crying. Roman looks at him, a smile curving on his features. 

“Hello there, you’re- you’re pretty,” Roman slurs slightly mid sentence, and Virgil gapes. Roman is drunk. Very drunk. So drunk, that he doesn’t recognize Virgil without his makeup and hoodie. While Virgil stares openmouthed, Roman reaches over and squeezes his bicep. “Ooh, you’re so strong too! Pretty face, and a hot body-” 

“Roman, you seriously don’t recognize me? Honest to god?” Virgil insists. Roman blinks slowly, but there’s no spark. Roman seriously has no idea, Virgil’s a stranger. 

He should probably bring him home. 

Or… he can start over. Roman won’t remember it anyway: this might be his only chance. 

“I think I’d remember such a handsome prince” Roman huffs. Virgil, unsurprisingly, blushes. 

“That’s very kind of you. You don’t look half bad yourself,” Virgil purrs. 

“Oh- you’re a flirt too! I like you,” Roman smiles widely, “Do you want to get another drink?” 

“I think you’ve had enough… do you want to go up and sing instead?” Virgil suggests, scooching closer to Roman. Touching his clothed shoulder, he feels how warm Roman is. Roman snuggles up to Virgil just a tad- he’s over affectionate, and with no filter, and no sense. It’s adorable, and Virgil is glad he got here when he did, because who knows who would take advantage of this cuddly child-like man? 

Now he understands why Roman needs a drinking buddy. 

“I love singing, I’m very good at it. I like Disney too. Do you like Disney?” 

“Yes, I like Disney,” Virgil snorts. They’ve had this debate over and over: the both of them like the franchise, though Virgil sees the darker bits that Roman tends to ignore. 

“You wanna- you wanna sing Love is an Open Door with me? I like that song, it’s a good song-” Roman rambles, looking excited. Virgil hates public speaking, let alone public speaking, but… he doesn’t know anyone here, what’s the issue? 

“That sounds good. Let’s go sign up, shall we?” Virgil suggests, Roman excitedly clinging to Virgil’s arm. 

“You’re so cold, it’s so nice,” Roman murmurs, rubbing his face on Virgil’s bare shoulder. Virgil can’t help but smile: his heart is beating fast, but in a fantastic way. Vincent doubletakes as they make it to the bar. 

“Hey you two- heading home? Ro looks pretty slammed…” 

“I’ll take him home in a bit. He wants to do one more song,” Virgil explains. Roman giggles, and Virgil’s heart does another flip. His smile widens. 

“Ah, sorry folks- Roman can’t do another one. He’s already exhausted the limit of five: you should have heard him sing some of those. An undercover celebrity, he is,” Vincent reaches over and mussies Roman’s hair, to which Virgil slaps his hand away. 

“Princey, did you hear? You can’t sing another one,” Virgil tells him, his voice still soft.

“Aww, really? I wanna- I wanna sing some ‘ore,” Roman pouts, his lower lips trembling. Virgil kisses his cheek, just a peck really, that’s all he can manage without exploding. Roman turns on a dime, sadness morphing to elation all at once. He leans in for another, to which Virgil declines, pushing him away with a palm. 

“Hey, how about I sing a song for you, huh? How does that sound?” Virgil asks, nervous beyond anything at singing in front of all these people, but Roman seems so ecstatic at the thought that Virgil knows he’ll be going through with it. 

“You sing? But you just-” gawks Vincent. Virgil glares at him. 

“Don’t act so surprised. And yes, I do. Just didn’t feel like saying it. Totally. When do I go up?” 

“After this guy,” Vincent points at the person going on stage, and Virgil steels himself for this experience. It’s okay, you’re the only one who’ll remember. It’ll be fine. Virgil starts walking closer to the stage, Roman hanging on him still. “Hey, dude, are you going to tell me what you’re singing? I’ll set it up for you,” 

“I got it. We’re good, right Princey?” 

“I’m so good, I’m the best, you’re so nice, gonna sing a song for me-” Roman rambles. Virgil shakes his head good-humoredly, adoring this side of him. Not suave or fanciful at all: only cute. They come to a table right by the stage, miraculously empty and clean. 

“Okay, Ro, you wanna sit here and watch?” Roman smiles, nodding quickly, and plops down in one of the chairs. Virgil goes beside him, fanning his confidence by reaching for his large hand. Just like in the car, Roman takes it and squeezes. 

“I’m so moved, you’re going to sing something for me! So romantic!” Roman gushes. Virgil blushes, rubbing his thumb on Roman’s sun-kissed hand. 

“I’ll sing it just for you: you know, I really don’t like public speaking. Or any of this stuff… but you’re not going to remember me, so I don’t think it’ll matter. I really really like you, Roman. I’ve known you for a while, so it wasn’t all at once, but you tease me with all of your flirty winks and tell me about how much you get around and today, calling me pretty- you’re destroying me, and you don’t even notice. You never do, and- Janus said that I’d be good for you. Grounding. A good boyfriend. I don’t know what he sees in me, but clearly you don’t see that. You like- you like grand gestures, romance, and flirting… I can’t do any of that. Except for today, when I’m not nervous anymore, because you’re never going to remember this whole thing. It’ll just be for me. Just for me to remember, for you to enjoy now. You’ll never know how much I love you anyway, so it’s just for me. Just for poor heartsick Virgil,” Virgil tells him, under the lights and despite the singing in the background. Roman blinks a few times, not understanding. 

“I- uhm… I don’t understand, whadda ya mean?” Roman squints at him. Virgil sighs, presses their foreheads together and gets up. 

“Doesn’t matter. I only want to say… whatever, it doesn’t matter. It’s my turn to go,” and Virgil pulls away, waving slightly to the confused man, and hunches his shoulders to make him look small as he walks to the center of the stage. Scrolling through the music (it operates sort of like a karaoke machine), Virgil selects a song he knows. 

Virgil doesn’t particularly like his singing voice: his mother loves it, would sing along with him during Nightmare Before Christmas, and told him it was very nice. It’s kind of low, gentle, and the words flow into the next. 

“The dawn is breaking, a light shining through… you’re barely waking, and I’m tangled up in you,” Virgil sings quietly. It’s awkward, and he can’t look out into the audience at all, and he hears them ignore him. He takes a deep breath, and continues. “I’m open, you’re closed. Where I follow, you’ll go. I worry I won’t see your face light up again,” 

People are starting to notice Virgil, as his voice rises, and it’s frightening but also exhilarating. He refuses to make eye-contact with them, unlike Roman who always does, and speaking of him- it’s very clear that Roman’s watching, enraptured. Virgil can practically feel it. 

“Even the best fall down sometimes, even the wrong words seem to rhyme- Out of the doubt that fills my mind, I somehow find you and I, collide,” Someone in the crowd whistles, causing Virgil to struggle a bit, but he picks it up right after. He’s imagining that it’s only him and Missy and- Roman. Virgil glances up at Roman barely: he’s awestruck, and it fills Virgil’s heart with glee. 

“I’m quiet you know.You make a first impression. But I’ve found I’m scared to know you’re always on my mind,” Virgil messes up the lyrics a bit, but no one notices at all. They’re cheering him on, listening attentively- it helps him go on, return his gaze to the floor. 

“Even the best fall down sometimes, even the stars refuse to shine, out of the back you fall in time, somehow find, you and I- collide,” Virgil’s voice is still quiet: even as his confidence rises, he can’t seem to raise it at all. 

“Don’t stop here. I’ve lost my place. I’m close behind,” Virgil used to sing this song with his parents, when he was young: his mother and father would sing and dance with him. It has sentimental value, it reminds him of childhood and pain and love and survival. They used to sing it to him, comforting him with the words. He knows every one. 

“Even the best fall down sometimes. Even the wrong words seem to rhyme. Out of the doubt that fills your mind, you finally find that you and I collide. Finally find that you and I collide. You finally find you and I collide,” the music plays for a while longer, with Virgil humming along rhythmically. When it finally fades out, Virgil scurries off the stage to thunderous applause. It is way too much attention, all at once. On his way, he grabs Roman’s sleeve, dragging him out as people fawn. As they rapidly exit, Vincent calls out from the bar. 

“Hey, grump- I don’t sing, my ass! You sing gorgeous! Come back anytime, with or without Roman!” Virgil glares at him, and then he’s out into the parking lot. 

“Phew- that was- oh my god, that was exhilarating. Roman? What did… what did you mmfp-” Virgil was smiling until he was cut off by Roman’s lips on his. Virgil moans into it: it’s more decadent than he could have ever imagined. Roman’s lips are deceptively soft and taste like strawberries. He finally moves back for air, and Virgil leans against the car, holding his mouth. Did… did that just happen? It takes a second to register that a) Roman kissed him, and b) that it doesn’t matter because he’s not in his right mind. It’s worth nothing beyond right now… but it means so so much. Virgil will remember this for the rest of his godforsaken life. 

“Ro-Roman, what was that for?” Virgil murmurs, touching his lips addictively. 

“You’re the kindest guy I’ve ever met. God, I want to take you home. Handsome, and sweet, and caring and a voice of an angel. I wish I met you forever ago,” Roman says, approaching closer to Virgil until he’s pressed up against the car and can feel Roman’s warmth, “Fuck… I don’t even know your name, but you’re… you’re magic,” 

“You’re making me seem better than I am, really,” Virgil flushes, feeling all sorts of fuzzy feelings. Roman chuckles, coming in closer to lean his head on Virgil’s shoulders. 

“I don’t… I don’t think I am, beautiful… I just- I don’t want to go home alone tonight. I’m so freaking lonely, all the goddamn time. So lonely… it’s only me, and no one really cares, when it comes down to it,” Roman sighs, on the verge of tears. Virgil is dumbfounded: who would have thought? Roman, the Prince of Theatre, who sings songs to children and flirts easily, and never is by himself because he’s a magnet for conversation… is lonely. 

“Maybe we can be lonely together,” Virgil whispers aloud, meaning it to be internal but slipping out anyway. 

“Can… can we?” Roman pleads, “Please?” Virgil exhales: he’s so cute. Remember though- he’s not going to recall any of this. It hurts, all of a sudden, that Virgil is at once Roman’s world and at the same time an illusion. 

“Alright, alright. We’ll see,” Virgil smiles at him. Roman leans down for another kiss, and now Virgil lets him. What’s the harm? I’m the only one who will hurt. I can take it. “I should take you home now, huh? You can’t drive, you’re drunk,” 

“Pfft- I am not-” 

“You are,” Virgil rolls his eyes, unlocking his car, “Now get in.” Roman shuffles his feet around. Virgil glares. 

“In the car, Princey, you have to go home now,” he demands. Roman frowns, looks away stubbornly. And, just like a puppy, he’s adorable but persistent as all hell. Roman murmurs something under his breath, inaudible. Glancing at him kinder, Virgil asks him to speak up. 

“I don’t wanna go home, I wanna stay with you,” Roman mumbles, slightly louder. And, Virgil is struck right in the heart. My god, is it even legal to be that cute? Virgil sighs: he should bring Roman to his house, that’s what he had asked before he was intoxicated, and he definitely can’t take advantage of him, but… those eyes are begging for him to stay with him. He can’t refuse. 

“Okay, okay, you win. It’s going to be impossible to explain this to you in the morning, but whatever! I’ll drive you to my house,” Virgil agrees, and the look of pure elation on Roman’s face is more than reward enough. Though Virgil has to help Roman’s wobby body into the passenger seat and buckle him up, he can’t stop smiling. 

Even as he starts the car to drive it home. 

Even as Roman says he’s going to be sick. 

Even as he has to rush Roman upstairs to his apartment before he pukes all over the place, Virgil is happy. 

Roman hugs Virgil’s middle after he cleans him up. Missy and Roman get along swimmingly, Virgil offering to let him hold her, and Roman enraptured by her. He’s enthralled by Virgil lending him a toothbrush, seemingly blessed by the offering of a piece of toast to calm his stomach at the small kitchen bar. Roman stares at it, sitting on one of the stools. 

“Why are you so nice to me?” he wonders. Virgil frowns. Are people usually unkind to you? 

“This is normal, Princey. People are supposed to look out for one another,” 

“Oh. Yeah,” Roman says to himself. Virgil can’t hold back from reaching over and kissing his forehead. 

“Anytime you need, I’ll be nice to you. I don’t mean to be so prickly: it’s a defense mechanism. You only have to tell me you’d like some care, and I’ll give you everything,” Virgil tells him. This charming man, he hiccups and his eyes water as he blubbers. Virgil is good with a lot of things: crying crushes are not one of them. “Hey, no crying, don’t cry! Let’s go to bed, huh? Yeah, that sounds nice, doesn’t it?” 

Roman makes a pitiful little nod, and Virgil leads him to the bedroom. There’s only one… so either they share, or Virgil’s going to the couch. So, he tucks Roman into the warm black duvet and brushes his forehead as a way of good night. As he goes to leave, Roman grabs onto his arm. 

“Stay with me? Please?”

“Ro, I don’t- I don’t think this is a good idea, buddy. No, it’s really not a good idea,” his heartbeat is picking up again, and Virgil bites his lip nervously. Roman ignores it, pulls his hand to kiss it. 

“Stay with me, princess,” he purrs. Are you trying to kill me? Roman’s too attractive, too flirtatious. And Virgil’s too head over heels to say no. And that’s how he finds himself sharing his bed with Roman King. 

Who fell asleep almost immediately, and snuggled up right into Virgil’s side. So close, that there is a permanent blush on Virgil’s face and his breath on his neck. Okay, this is not going to work. I’m never going to get to sleep if this goes on. Fuck. 

Virgil shuffles away, attempting to get out of bed and go sleep on the couch, but Roman slings and arm over him and growls “Stay”. 

Well, can’t argue with that, now can I? 

~~~~~~

When morning filters through the window, Roman blinks awake. Jiminy Cricket, does his head hurt. Ugh, what happened last night? This isn’t his bed: it’s not colourful at all, all blacks and purples. For goodness sakes, the curtains that are blocking most of the sun have spiders on it. Roman rubs his eyes: did he go home with someone? He must’ve. But who? Roman can’t really recall: he doesn’t remember talking to anyone. After Virgil ran out to the bathroom, Roman just wanted to drink and be alone. Anyone who approached him was turned away instantly by one of his cold stares. 

He couldn’t help but feel as though it was sort of his fault: he said he’d be with him. That Roman would leave Virgil alone. And yet… he was in the bathroom for two hours, and not once did Roman gather the courage to go and check on him. And then what? Then he went to some strangers home and left Virgil? 

What kind of asshole would do that to someone? Virgil, despite how he acts, is amazingly perceptive. He can tell when something is wrong, it’s why he’s so good as a nurse… he’s just genuinely a good person. And Roman left him? 

He can’t imagine he’d do that to the emo, even drunk. He wouldn’t be able to forget Virgil, would he? 

No, he really has no clue. 

Think, Roman, think- he presses his hands to his pounding head, as if it would squeeze out a memory. All that happens is scraps of a song. Oh great, not only do I have no idea where I am but now there’s a song stuck in my head. Wonderful. 

“Even the best fall down sometimes, even the wrong words seem to rhyme-” he murmurs under his breath. Then an image follows right after: a man, holding onto the microphone at the bar, singing the words so soft, so sweetly. It makes his heart pang, it’s so lovely. Is that the guy I went home with? Roman thinks to himself. He focuses harder on the memory. The man, he looks up shyly, nervously, and meets eyes with Roman. 

God, he’s fucking beautiful. Love at first sight? Maybe not, but whatever this is, it’s as close to that as it could possibly be. It makes Roman feel all warm and bubbly inside. He bites his lip and looks at the ceiling of this stranger’s bed. Things come back in bits and pieces all out of order; kissing that man by a car, his car- that man laughing at him as he gawks at his, what is that, a spider?- the man sitting at a table in the bar right next to him, letting him nuzzle his shoulder (embarrassing, it makes Roman blush he was so mushy)- a kiss to his forehead to calm him, wiping away drunken tears ever so gently. His hands felt baby-soft, despite the obvious muscular frame he sported. 

Who is he…? 

“I’ll sing it just for you: you know, I really don’t like public speaking…” in his mind, this man’s voice follows: it’s soft, muted a touch. Focus now, Roman, you’ve almost got it- 

“You’re not going to remember me, so I don’t think it’ll matter…” Of course it matters! I’m not a blackout drunk! Roman wants to scream. 

“I really really like you, Roman,” his voice, saying such kind words, is like what he’d imagine an angel would sound like. Or some sweet interaction that only comes between A-List celebrities in a scripted movie. 

“I’ve known you for a while…”  Okay, finally, getting somewhere. He knows him? Does he do tech at the theatre or something? It’s a possibility. 

“You’re destroying me, and you don’t even notice…” Well, that’s harsh. Kind makes him feel guilty: this gorgeous meal of a man was lusting over him, and he didn’t even notice? What kind of idiot- 

“Janus said that I’d be good for you. Grounding. A good boyfriend…” So he knows the snakey doctor. That can either be very good or very bad: is this fellow a sleazeball? No, Roman assures himself blushing heavily, He’s too sweet to do that. Too kind and loving. Did you see him sing that song? Just for you too- and he looked so nervous! Precious!! 

“I don’t know what he sees in me, but clearly you don’t see that…” Roman wants to pull his hair out. Did Roman say or do something wrong? Did he ruin his chances with this Adonis, because if he did, he’ll be furious. 

“You like grand gestures, romance, and flirting… I can’t do any of that,” I don’t care! I don’t care about any of that! I just want someone to hold my hand and not treat me like shit! Just a sweet cute guy! 

“I’m not nervous anymore, because you’re never going to remember this whole thing,” Ah, sorry to break it to you, but hey, I’m remembering! And I’m going to track you down! 

“You’ll never know how much I love you anyway, so it’s just for me…” he sounds melancholy, so very sad, and Roman wants to hold him. Hold him and kiss the top of his head and make him feel better. This person, he doesn’t deserve to be ignored. Why was Roman ever- 

“Just for poor heartsick Virgil,” Roman’s mouth runs dry. Virgil? Virgil. He- the man he went with- Virgil. Virgil was singing to him, with that angelic voice, Virgil drove him to his house because he didn’t want to leave him alone and every other little wonderful thing, the forehead kisses and the smiles and the hands- oh my stars, I am an imbecile. 

How didn’t he notice? How Virgil would bite back at him whenever he flirted with him teasingly, how Virgil wilted whenever Roman talked about his relationships, how careful and thoughtful he was with every move, hell, he even agreed to go out to the bar with him to find some other guy because he was worried for Roman’s safety. 

How was I so blind that I missed the perfect man right in front of my eyes? 

And this… this must be Virgil’s house. It’s… very Virgil. Is that a Nightmare Before Christmas poster? Yes, it is- how wonderful. How him. 

How didn’t Roman notice? It’s that classic blunder, unseeing of the person right in front of him. How did he not see how romantic Virgil is? Little gestures, smart moves, kindness. Thoughtful. He had said that he wasn’t a romantic, but by Jove- he’s sweet. His mind can’t stop repeating Virgil’s soft singing and his gentleness. God, it’s so beautiful it’s painful. He should tell him to go without makeup more often. And a shirt. Yes, without a shirt sounds good. Undercover buff, much?

His mind swirls with the knowledge of Virgil. 

Oh shit- how is he going to face Virgil now? He’s in his house, he’s most likely in the living room: should he just pretend like he doesn’t remember? 

Roman’s a good actor, he could pull it off: but Virgil would still be wanting and lonesome. And Roman would know, and that hurts. He won’t do that to him, not anymore. 

He should just come out, say that he remembers and... ask him out on a date. A proper one. They both have the day off today, it could be now! 

They’d do Virgil things, things that make the emo happy, maybe a zoo or watch movies or coffee shops or whatever. And... Roman will hold his hand, hold him, and hold him and hold him. Yes, yes, this is good. 

Roman wishes he had more time to plan. Time to get flowers, or chocolates or anything, really. Wait, you don’t even know if he’ll say yes! Maybe he’s so embarrassed by the whole interaction that- 

Wait. 

Is that pancakes? 

Roman sniffs at the air: yes, it is. Blueberry ones, at that. And coffee. His stomach rumbles, and hunger is enough to spur him out of bed. His legs are wobbly, and his head is swimming, but he makes it out of the room eventually. 

“Oh hey, Princey, finally decide to wake from your endless slumber, huh?” Virgil teases. His makeup has returned, as usual. He’s wearing another hoodie, a black one, and it’s hanging off his shoulders as he flips pancakes. Roman’s mouth runs dry. “Also, umm, sorry about not taking you to your apartment. I didn’t want to leave you alone.” 

“Oh... it’s fine,” Roman sounds odd, even to himself, and Virgil gives him a skeptical look. “Heh, anyone who makes me good morning pancakes is alright in my book!” 

Virgil snorts, and pushes a plate over the kitchen bar for Roman to sit and eat. 

“How’s your head? What do you- you know, never mind,” Virgil ducks his head into the fridge to receive some maple syrup, “You like it warmed?” 

“Uh... if it isn’t an issue,” Virgil casts another weird look to Roman: is he being too nice? Roman can’t help it, how could he be rude? He puts his syrup in the microwave, with the long pale fingers. 

 “I uh- Virgil,” Roman starts, more nervous than anything, “Oh fuck, this is hard but- I uh-” 

“You’re making me worried, Princey, spit it out or shut up and eat my food,” Virgil glares. Roman gulps. It’s like a bandaid, rip it off, come on, just spit it out- 

“I REMEMBER! I remember everything, I always do after I’m drunk, it’s why I get a buddy, because I always remember in the morning and I hate what I’m like when I’m intoxicated, because I always remember, I think I’ve said that a few times- uh, Virgil, are you okay?” Roman finally looks up at Virgil- or rather down, as the man has crumpled to the floor in a heap. Has he fainted? Roman gets up and squats next to him. 

“Virgil?” he whispers into his ear, poking at him. Virgil jolts up, narrowly missing a collision with Roman’s head as he sits up straight. He groans, and puts his head in his hands to try and hide his full-faced blush. 

“Fuck, I’m such an idiot, oh my god, I’ve made a total fool of myself- oh god, please just leave me alone to die, Roman, just go,” he yells. Roman chuckles, and peels Virgil’s hands from his face. He seems about to cry, moisture glistening at his eyes. Roman’s heart can’t take it: he thinks he looks foolish? No, never. 

Roman kisses the corners of his eyes. 

“You’re not an idiot, you’re most certainly not a fool. I’m sorry I didn’t notice you before at the office. I’m the only idiot between the two of us, because I didn’t see how wonderful you were until you had to be blatant about it. I’m so very sorry, and in your debt. I feel silly to even try and ask, but would you… perchance, want a real date? One where I’m not flirting with other people- only with you, you Incredible Sulk,” Roman consoles Virgil pulling him into an embrace. 

“Really?” Virgil asks. 

“Honestly,” 

“Then yeah, yeah, that sounds okay. I uh… I don’t do a whole lot so-” Roman cuts Virgil off by pressing his finger to his lips. Virgil raises his eyebrows. 

“How’s right this second sound?”

“Yeah- uhm, that works for me-”

“Fantastic! And I believe your pancakes are burning,” Roman notes, laughing as Virgil shoots up cursing colourfully as he discards a very black pancake. Even as the man squawks and yells and forces Roman back into his seat, he can’t help but feel fulfilled. After the pancake fiasco is remedied, Virgil breathes a sigh of relief and smiles at Roman. 

“Sorry about that, Princey,” 

“Hey, it’s no problem for me! Kind of entertaining, actually,” Roman snickers, earning him a slap upside the head. And then, just to push Virgil’s buttons, he snakes his hand through his dark locks and kisses him deeply over the counter. It’s a knee-shaking kiss, a heart-stopper, a signature Roman smooch. One he should’ve given Virgil last night, but was too drunk to make happen. It seems like Virgil likes it too, if the noises are any indication. Virgil is the first to pull back for air, and presses his chest, gasping. 

“Oh my goodness, was that too much? Are you okay, Virgil?” Roman frets. Virgil, he recalls, has some sort of horrible cocktail of medical issues. Most he’s grown out of, but the effects still linger. 

“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s cool. Hah, my heart’s still beating. It’s stopped once before, and I have a defibrillator in my room but- I’m okay. I guess that just means I’m fragile, right? Gotta be careful with my heart, both ways, alright?” A still beating heart. How romantic, how delightful. 

“Now you must stay with me, so I can restart your heart whenever it’s required!” Roman announces. Virgil rolls his eyes and scoffs, despite his small smile, then returns to finishing off the end of his pancake batter. Roman pokes his bicep, his deceptively strong bicep, to pester him into an answer. Virgil catches it, squeezes. 

“Hey! My heart’s still beating, you’re going to have to try harder,” he teases. It has to be the most lovely seductive challenge he’s ever been issued. And you said you weren’t a romantic. 

His heart still beats, and it beats just as hard for Roman as the other way around. 

How positively lovely. 

~~~~

And from that day on, the entire pediatric office would all go out once a month to a particular bar’s karaoke night, and Roman and Virgil would sing many songs but always one. They always sang one at the end, and it was so beautiful that people cry every time. It’s longing and love and acceptance. 

They like to hold hands while they do it, perhaps to show off their relationship… or maybe just the matching rings that adorn their fingers. 

~~~~~

The End! Thanks for reading! 

If you enjoyed, please reblog- it truly means the world. 

Want to be tagged on other works in this genre or just generally? Asks, DMs, or comments are all wonderful. 

Liked it a whole coffee’s worth? Here’s my Ko-fi. 

[secretshinigami]

Maybe Maybe Maybe

Author: @lightsredapple / Zara_Zara (on AO3)

For: @danthegeek

Pairings/Characters: Light/L. Soichiro Yagami

Rating/Warnings: G. Mentions of alcohol

Prompt: “Soichiro and L go out for drinks, discussing the case in the beginning, then talking about Light, L sharing his feelings for Soichiro’s’ son.”

Author’s notes: Happy holidays everyone! Hope you like this danthegeek, I had fun writing it :)

In the early hours of the morning, L was surrounded by warmth. And he was holding onto that warmth at all the points that mattered: there was a warm waist in his arms, a forehead pressed against the perfect space between delicate shoulder blades, the soft rise and fall of a chest under his hands, and legs entwined into a mess of infinity. Between the slits of his slowly waking eyes, the world was a sleepy ocean of twilight. The world felt so soft in the moment. It was something he often forgot the world could be. It was easy to be blinded by all else when he surrounded himself with the indifferent light of computer screens, scrolling, scrolling, searching… 

For the longest time, L had been deeply acquainted with empty rooms. He’s seen it all, rooms violent with furnishings to rooms desolate with sparsity, and after many years of traveling they all ended up looking the same. This was because, at the root of it, the essence of any hotel was rooted in its transience. The rooms within its building were meant only to be lived in for a certain amount of time before its guests moved on. This sort of transience suited L just fine. He went wherever a case called him and inhabited many hotel rooms but never lived in them. These places were never home. He’d never sought for such a thing in his life. However, when he woke up that morning, feeling well-rested, easy, slow, warm, all of these states which were caused by one young man—he found that none of these things were easy to ignore. What happened to him? he wondered. Normally, at this time he’d be vividly awake and deep within a case. Normally, he wouldn’t even have slept at all and would’ve been on his fifteenth coffee by then. Even after over a year of this set-up, sleep and rest and calm were consistently very novel things for L…but, honestly, he wouldn’t trade it for anything. 

The seconds ticked by and it would’ve been so easy to have slipped back to sleep. And L would’ve done so, but he could feel Light waking. And if Light was awake then he was most certainly going to be leaving soon. In that moment, stopping that from happening was L’s first and most pressing issue of the day. To win, you must attack, so making like a boa constrictor, he tightened his hold on Light. It was the perfect plan. Light wouldn’t want to move because he wouldn’t want to wake L. He was considerate like that. L didn’t get enough sleep, he always said. It would not only be hypocritical of Light to wake L up but it would also go against Light’s  code of honor and all that jazz. Yes, this was good. More than good, L thought as he nuzzled Light’s back with this forehead and sighed contentedly. With his victory insured, L contendly closed his eyes but frowned when Light moved. It seemed as if he was trying to escape the pirate knot of limbs L had on him, “L,” Light whispered. L remained quiet because he was “asleep.”

Light fidgeted once more. “L,” Light whispered again and sighed when he got nothing in response. A minute passed where Light stayed with all his warmth and all was well. “I know you’re awake,” Light said, voice just barely a whisper. “I need to get up now…I have class.” 

L still refused to respond or let up on his tight hold on the other man. “L, come on.” Light exasperatedly said as he began trying to pry L’s arms off of him. It was difficult because they were as tight as a dead body in rigor mortis. Did L die during the night? After Light gave a good struggle and finally got one leg loose from L’s own, L inhaled deeply as if he were waking and mumbled, “Mmm? Morning, Light-kun.” He felt Light’s back untense somewhat at signs of life from L and L took that opportunity to strengthen his hold on him. At this point it wasn’t cuddling anymore, they were wrestling in a strange sleepy manner. 

“Good morning, L,” Light said in a conversational tone, entertaining him even if he definitely knew that L had been awake this whole time and was just being difficult. “I need to get up. Let me go.”

“Do you really need to? Is it urgent? Life or death?”

“Yes, so will you please let go of me?” 

“I’m not convinced. If this were truly a life or death situation, you’d sound more distressed.”

“How’s this for distressed…” Light grumbled. And with far more energy than was fair in the morning, Light rolled them over, commencing a brief tussle in the sheets. In one horrible move, Light completely escaped. L stretched one hand towards him, like a dying man reaching for help, but it collapsed when confronted with the merciless look of triumph on Light’s smiling face. With half his face pressed to the pillow, one of L’s eyes watched as Light gracefully walked away and pulled the curtains open, “I’m sorry, L. I have to go.” Light needlessly repeated, except, this time with a pointless apology. 

L rolled more comfortably onto his side and hugged his aching shins as he silently watched Light dress. The morning sunshine was spilling in through their window, flooding the room with daffodil yellow. It burnished Light’s skin a golden color, much of it methodically getting hidden away by needless layers of fabric. The soft sounds of his dressing were simple and sensual. They were the only sounds that moved in the otherwise sleepily still room. Head crushed to his pillow, L catalogued Light’s motions with a passive intensity and sighed to himself. 

“C’mon, don’t pout,” Light chuckled and finished fixing his tie that didn’t need fixing. He then bent down to peck L on the mouth. Both their eyes were slitted open. The peck was chaste. What was with that? It had to be corrected. L’s hand kept Light’s head from moving away. He tried deepening the kiss but Light pulled away with an apologetic grimace and said, “Morning breath.”

L flopped on the bed as if he’d been shot, “You’re so mean to me, Light…Denying me my rights…You should be prosecuted,” L yawned and sleepily glared at Light. 

“A lawsuit from the Greatest Detective in the world? Scary. We’ll talk more about this later, yeah?” Light was a blur as he swept out of the room. The room went quiet.

  ***

  Light wasn’t in fact coming home soon that day. Light enjoyed acting on his freedom and often stayed out of their pent house just because he could. Whether he went out for a walk in the park, or to sweat off energy at the gym, or study in a cafe, he always returned to their place at 9 p.m. sharp. This suited both of them just fine. Each of them were independent creatures at their core, so the time apart was a welcome gift to that part of themselves. Light’s habit on that particular Thursday night was ideal, as L was going to meet someone he had evaded telling Light he was going to see. 

  ***

  Like looking through a fishbowl, L gazed at the explosion of colors in his drink. Instead of sipping it just yet, L picked the colorful umbrella off the rim of it and twirled it in his fingers so that the colorful pattern blurred. With his other finger, he slowly pushed the food menu towards his company, “Shall we order an entree?” It occurred to him, perhaps belatedly, that it was just about edging on dinner time for most people and Soichiro might be hungry. 

  “I’m fine, Ryuzaki. Thank you for the offer, though.” Some beats of silence rested between them. It would’ve been devastatingly awkward if they were anyone other than who they were. L was unbothered by such silences, in fact he often encouraged them, because when suspects were confronted with an uncomfortable silence they tried often to overcompensate for the silence, slipping up in the process. However, he didn’t need that particular advantage of silence in this instance because Soichiro wasn’t under interrogation, of course. Anyhow, the gravity of the awkwardness was dulled somewhat by Soichiro’s unrelenting efforts to keep up the appearance of being unphased by such things. 

  Years of experience in the force curated a disposition that was as cool as a glacier; but, historically,  L was responsible for testing that coolheadedness. Particularly when it came to the terrible suspicions cast against his son that ended up proving untrue. The emotional trauma from that whole period had yet to leave Soichiro and it made him somewhat embittered towards the detective in front of him; this was despite knowing that the things that had to be done during the investigation were necessary for catching as big an evil as Kira. Soichiro only wished Light hadn’t had to go through everything he was put through. 

  Soichrio watched as the little pink umbrella spinning in L’s fingers escaped and whirled to the ground. L blinked at where it fell but did not pick it up, that was when Soichiro decided to speak and go straight to business, “Ryuzaki, why did you ask to meet me…Is everything ok? How is Light?”

  “Light-kun is well. He has his three balanced meals a day, follows a reasonable sleep schedule, and is working very diligently in his studies,” L ticked off on his fingers as if consulting a mental list, “He has also begun trying his hand at baking. A skill of which you can imagine I am very appreciative of.” 

  “Oh that is good. I am glad to hear it.”

  “And how is Yagami-san?” L pressed his fingers to his drink and slid it towards himself to take a sip of it. After L did so, Soichiro lifted his sake and drank from it. The burn from his drink tickled his throat and offered a little bit of comfort from the unease of having L’s big fish eyes looking directly at him. 

  “I’m doing fine, thank you, Ryuzaki. I feel better than I have in months actually.”

  “If I may ask, how so?”

  “Well, the Kira case may have closed two years ago but I haven’t felt this way in a long time,” He thoughtfully paused, “Like things are finally starting to settle.”

  “Settle?” 

  Yagami senior swirled the dark liquid in his glass very quietly. It was quite busy in the bar, but not the loud sort of busyness. The noise level in the place was just enough to hear the clink of the ice cubes inside. That was the only tick that betrayed Soichiro’s discomfort with sharing about himself. He was not a man used to sharing the more introspective parts of himself but he would try for the sake of his former boss, the detective who had caught Kira, and most importantly the man who his son had chosen to spend his life with. 

  When Soichiro had found out that Light and L were in a relationship, he was admittedly very surprised…And not exactly thrilled. The two of them had told him, Sachiko, and Sayu just the previous year during Christmas dinner. Soichiro had already been surprised when Light had asked if he could invite Ryuzaki to it, but he just thought it was because the two of them had become very close friends during the investigation and had kept in contact. However, it did strike him as a little odd that Ryuzaki was still in Japan a year after the Kira case closed. But he had reasoned that any number of things could’ve led L to stay in the area or even draw him back—another case, perhaps. But no, through a series of subtle gestures during that fateful dinner, the nature of their true relationship came to light. Admittedly, Soichiro was a little uncomfortable with this revelation. He was not alone in this because Sachiko was as well. The two of them were of the same generation and mold, one that was generally more conservative in their beliefs. Sayu was shocked but no less understanding. She got over her surprise quicker than her parents. Soichiro regretted his reaction. He wished he had been quicker to accept and understand. It felt like he failed his son by not doing so, and it hurt him to know the way he acted had hurt his son in the process. Their relationship suffered for it and grew weaker than it had ever been. 

  It was through some self-discovery and acts to educate himself in areas he had previously been blind to that he came to understand this relationship Light had built with the man before him. Ryuzaki, or L, may have been quite an odd personality and not at all the sort of person who he and Sachiko thought their son would give his heart to. But he understood it—at least, Soichiro thought he did. L may have been a bit strange, but no one could deny the intellect nestled behind the explosion of black hair. Soichiro wasn’t blind, during the investigation he noticed the way Light and L seemed to click. Listening to them talk to each other was like watching a million fireworks go off at once. It was beautiful to see his son’s intellect and genius at its peak but it was like the sorts of conversations Light and L would have were far above the world’s heads. Soichiro also noticed that just as much as those two connected they also crashed violently against each other, quite literally at times. Both of those things were novelties to him in regards to Light. Soichiro had never seen his normally patient and even-tempered son lose his temper at someone else. Much less throw himself into a physical altercation with another person. That uncovering of his temper was surprising. Equally, on the other hand, he had never seen his son so engaged with another person. It was like all this time his son had been sleepwalking through life, doing everything perfectly, of course, but he’d never seen him so alive until then. It didn’t make sense but then it completely did. 

  “Crimes have returned to the numbers they used to be at before Kira. And with that, they are very…Normal. Nothing on the scale of Kira and his madness. It’s almost like how things used to be a couple years ago but not quite. For one, I’m trying to be home more.” The Kira investigation had forced him to confront his mortality on more than one occasion. Such a confrontation left a lasting impression and was not so easy to shake off. Soichiro may have watched how work life and criminal life may have returned to normalcy; however, he knew that he himself couldn’t follow in those same steps and go back to living life as he used to. Light was already living away and making his life elsewhere, but Soichiro decided to make efforts to try and be there for Sayu and his wife. “I’m still very busy, but my daughter recently showed me an article about the benefits of balancing work and private life…So, I’m trying to do that for them..”

  L nodded and took a long draught of his drink. Soichiro took that opportunity to nurse his sake. L set his sweet drink down and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before saying, “Please don’t take offense at my saying this, but I notice Yagami-san has changed.”

  Soichiro blinked. He had not expected that. “I’m not offended. I appreciate it,” He coughed and quietly said, “I’m trying.” 

  “I think it’s admirable. I cannot boast of such a thing,” As if to emphasize that comment, L suddenly pulled out a cherry stem he’d twisted to a knot in his mouth. That, and his familiar way of sitting combined to send a message that said:  I’m the same as always.  It was strange receiving a compliment such as this, especially from the person who was giving it. L was putting himself down to give Soichiro that compliment. But on the other hand he also could’ve been mocking him. It was always hard to tell these sorts of things with L. 

  Soichiro’s discomfort with the situation had only begun to wane but he still felt compelled to get up and order more drinks. So, after getting a slightly stronger glass of sake and another colorful concoction of a drink for L, he felt ready for anything. The extra fortitude the sake gave him did not quite prepare him for L’s next question, “I was thinking over what you’ve said and my attention has caught onto one particular thing. You said you have been trying to change for ‘them’ .. your family, but what of yourself?”

  Soichiro paused, “I’m not sure I understand the question. Isn’t the fact I’m trying to change already to do with myself?”

  “I suppose,” L looked away and sipped his drink as he thought. The truth was he was kind of bored with this train of conversation even though he was the one who had put it in this direction. These kinds of things, the sorts of things to do with hearts and feelings didn’t really interest him unless it was to do with…No one, really. No one except Light. That exception refocused him on the topic at hand and why he was there, “I only meant to ask, are you changing entirely for your family? Such a thing seems like a very selfless undertaking to me.”

  “Well, my family are a very big part of it. Almost everything I’ve done has been for my family, keeping them safe, secure, and cared for,” Soichrio paused in thought and initially took a sip of his sake before he thought of something painful and took a much longer drink of it. Fire tumbled down his throat as he remembered requesting to be imprisoned with his son. He had spent long hours in that cell of his just hoping and praying that the real Kira would slip up and clear his son of all suspicions. Just even thinking about the well of love he had in his soul for his family made something expand in his chest like a bomb exploding in slow motion. It was just too much. He loved them all fiercely and would tear down the world for any one of them. The emotion pounded through his skull and shone sharply in his eyes, “Everything I do, I do for them. At least that’s what I always believed. Yes, my job took me away from home for many many hours, but I always thought it was worth it because when I finally got home at the end of the day I knew the streets were a little safer for my family and everyone else. That was something that always drove me to this field of work. It was why I became a detective. The world can be so cruel, as I’m sure you already know, and probably know far too much of, but there is also good in it. People can be kind just as much as they can be cruel. My family gave me balance because when I returned home, I returned to love.” Soichiro wiped a corner of an eye that was burning with something mysterious. 

  “Out of the darkness and into light.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Forgive me, it was an ill-timed joke. Thank you for sharing what you have, Yagami-san. Speaking as honestly as you have is no easy feat.”

  “Thank you,” Soichiro said. Feeling very odd after unpacking all those thoughts. He hardly remembered L’s original question and he felt he didn’t quite answer it. Or maybe he did.. He wasn’t sure.

  “Have you spoken to Light-kun recently?”

  Soichiro looked down, “No, I haven’t.”

  L extended his hand, “If you’ll allow me your phone I can give you Light-kun’s number. He changes it every so often.” After poking Light’s number into Soichiro’s phone—Light most definitely wouldn’t be too pleased with that but he’d get over it—L slid Yagami senior’s phone back to him and then said, “So as to not take up anymore of your time, I will tell you why I asked us to meet here,” Soichiro leaned forward slightly, alert. “As you know, Light-kun will be graduating just a few months from now. With his incredible skills and talent I feel he will be an invaluable asset to my team. I already offered the job to him and he has accepted. We will be leaving Japan in early June.”

  “I see,” another surprise. But to a certain extent he also expected this. Sparkling pride filled him at the news but it also made him a little sad. Although he already rarely saw Light now, his son would be leaving the country soon and that would stretch their distance to a grander more physical sense. But he was a little confused as to why L was telling him this. “Are you asking for my approval? Light is an adult and can make his own decisions. If that is what he wants to do, I support him.”

  “I wasn’t asking for that. But I’m certain he would appreciate hearing that anyway.”

  And then it clicked. L giving him the phone number and then telling him that he and Light were going to leave… “I think so too,” He blinked at L and saw him differently. He felt he just saw a layer to the man that he was not aware existed. So, he was changing as well. He thought that much of it must’ve been Light’s influence and Soichiro smiled very faintly at the thought of it. He didn’t drink nearly enough to feel a buzz or loosen his tongue, but the knowledge that this was probably the last meeting he’d ever have with Ryuzaki gave him enough courage to say, “You know, I think you’ve changed as well, Ryuzaki.”

  “Oh?”

  Now that he said it, he pushed away embarrassment because such a comment felt too familiar, but Ryuzaki had told him the same thing so it couldn’t be as impolite as it felt. Especially since Soichiro meant it well. “Be honest, Ryuzaki. How do you feel for my son?” When Ryuzaki and Light had visited their home and announced their relationship a year ago, the status was all that they had shared. Of course, such a thing had to be backed up with feelings and he was more than certain they existed. But he wanted to hear it confirmed in some way. Specifically, from the man who was soon going to take his son away.

  “I love your son, Yagmai-san,” There it was. Said factually and flatly, almost coldly. But that was Ryuzaki’s way, and perhaps the factual way in which it was said lent it an undeniable weight of honesty that could not be ignored. 

  Soichiro released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and asked, “He feels like home?”

  L blinked at Soichiro. It was an unexpected question given the sentimentality of it. It was even more sentimental than the one about L’s feelings. L knew of his own feelings but he’d never romanticised them in the way Soichiro’s question was asking him to do. Did Light feel like home? he wondered. What was a home anyway? Despite the questions that were stirred up inside him, L bluntly answered, “He is my home.” L  told himself he’d contemplate that statement later or discard it as something trivial. He reconsidered the latter due to Soichiro’s big smile of happiness and relief. He’d never seen Light’s father smile that way and it made him curious, “What is your home, Yagami-san?”

  “My family, of course.”

  “Is it true even if Light is away?”

  “Yes,” Soichiro’s grin dimmed somewhat, but it was not sad. 

  “I don’t need to apologize for taking him away then.”

  “That’s right.”

  L lifted a corner of his mouth, “Good. I wasn’t planning on it.”

***

  Later that night, when L had his head on Light’s lap and was dozing away, Light’s phone rang. L blinked his eyes open and watched as Light impassively checked it. L said, “You should get that.”

  Light raised an eyebrow at him, phone held aloft and vibrating in his hand probably with only seconds left to live, “Oh?”

  L just stared at him without an answer. Light frowned slightly but his curiosity was a persuasive force. He flipped his phone open and tucked it between his shoulder and chin with one last weary glance down at L. “Hello?” One of his hands resumed idly running through L’s hair but with less intent than before. 

  The volume was too low to hear anything, especially with the tv. But a low and staticy “Light” could be heard.

  “Dad?” Light said in initial confusion before looking down at L. A flash of realization passed in his eyes as Light realized the answer was right there in his lap. Quickly getting over his surprise and trading it for weary caution Light asked, “Are you ok?” He moved L’s head off his lap and got up, walking away to another room where he closed the door. Sealing away his voice as he spoke on the phone. 

  Hmmph, why didn’t Soichiro call a little bit earlier? Preferably, before L had his head on his son’s lap? Lolling on the couch for a bit, he waited for Light to return, but the call was taking longer than expected. When he tried listening through the door, he couldn’t hear anything, which led him to believe Light had gone into the room’s bathroom to add an extra layer of distance. 

  Forty minutes passed before Light finished his call. L had lost interest in the movie he had not really been watching and turned off the tv to read. But he was not really interested in the book either and put the book down when he saw Light reappear. Light remained in a meditative silence as he returned to the couch. L watched him the entire way, trying to pick up on what Light felt and what he was thinking. Light reclined on the couch and moved so he faced L, propping his chin on his hand he matched L’s stares and quietly regarded him, “That was my dad,” he needlessly said.

  “I know.”

  “Of course,” Light rolled his eyes but turned more serious and said, “I don’t appreciate my phone number being handed out so freely. Nor do I like how you’ve interfered in my family business. But I appreciate the inventions behind it all, just don’t do it again. I can handle these things on my own.”

  L nodded and found his toes a very interesting thing as he stared at them. “You’re mad at me.”

  “I’m not. Sure, I’m a little put-out but I’m not angry. As I said, just don’t do something like that again.” 

  Unable to contain himself anymore, L asked, “How did the call go?”

  “It was fine,” Light shrugged in a far too deliberate manner. “He just talked about work and I talked about university. Nothing important.”

  “You spent 45 minutes in there.”

  “He was very intrigued by my class to do with the history of Japanese Criminology.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Where did we leave off again?” Light turned the tv on again and resumed the movie they’d been watching. 

When they were in bed once again, drifting off to sleep, L wondered about what Soichiro said, did Light feel like home? He felt an arm encircle his waist and drag him back into Light’s chest. So Light really didn’t mind what I did, he thought and relaxed into his hold. It was a reverse of earlier that morning when L was holding him instead. Now Light was mirroring that position of the past but in his own way. His forehead was pressed to the back of his neck and their legs were fitted together, not tangled. Is this home? He thought, as he idly played with Light’s fingers. L sighed and then Light sighed with him. Maybe.

[m00nycore]

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒍𝒆𝒇𝒕 . 𝒕𝒘𝒐 . 𝒆𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 .

ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑑𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑒?

𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑢𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑐

𝑡/𝑤 : 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑠𝑢𝑖𝑐𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑠. 𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛.

𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ;; @missdicaprio @thesweethufflepuff @mads-bri

guilt had become remus lupin’s conviction.

he didn’t mean to stare, he didn’t, he knew it made her feel odd, but her buzzed hair made it more obvious to him.

lucy had stopped wearing makeup, and remus thought it was nice. he also thought her hair, or lack thereof, was nice.

but he could see the ghost of a scar on her temple, one that was quickly healed with dittany and silver powder. it was amazing, really, that it had become so unnoticeable—it could pass as a tiny childhood injury.

but, it never healed. to remus lupin, it was clear. to remus lupin, it was a fundamental piece of his self-hatred. a reminder of his monstrosity.

lucy was due to take over classes for him, as the first full moon of his stint as a professor was rapidly approaching, only within a few weeks of the start of the term. she sat at his desk, writing down notes. the students were due to revise pixies and imps, lessons from the previous year.

“rem?” lucy’s eyes were concerned, but uncomfortable from his sustained stare.

remus was quiet, smiling, albeit awkwardly, and returned his attention to peering out of the window.

it was nearing the end of sunset, and the skies were beautiful hues of red and pink. jazz, remus’ favorite record, to be exact, was playing on the phonograph, softly.

“you have guilt on your face,” she accused, but gently. he knew she had risen to join him, from the soft scoot of the chair and the quiet step of her feet. she walked lightly.

she ghosted her hand over his shoulder, pulling him to face her.

he glanced at the scar once more, feeling unable to hide the source of his unease. he often felt unable to hide things from lucy.

“rem, it was forever ago,” she assured him, voice dripping with honey, a calm ocean breeze. it almost soothed him. “it was my fault, anyhow. i couldn’t stand to see you harm yourself. i was stupid, yes, but it was my fault nonetheless.”

“the tiny grey fox against the big, bad wolf,” he laughed, humorlessly, recalling a conversation from years and years ago. “i could have killed you.”

“but you didn’t,” was her simple reply.

she quickly walked away, and within seconds she was putting a different record on to play. they had combined collections, and she drew out one of their mutual favorites.

starry, starry night.

the guitar chords of don mclean’s vincent filled the office.

“nostalgia,” she explained, suddenly next to remus once more. “dance?”

it was another late night in the common room, and he was unable to sleep. the full moon was the next night, and it made him restless. his back ached, and he was moody.

lucy had joined him, as she often did, and tried to sooth him with a dance. it was awkward and clumsy, and honestly, they were quite lucky that they didn’t wake anyone with their laughter, hushed as it was.

remus smiled, arms looped around her waist, and her arms loose around his neck.

shadows on the hills,

sketch the trees and the daffodils.

catch the breeze and the winter chills,

in colors on the snowy linen land.

there was quiet laughter, reflecting on the familiarity.

lucy had always been different than the rest of them. she had the jagged edges, but they saw the soft curves that coexisted within her.

how you suffered for your sanity,

and how you tried to set them free.

they did not listen, they did not know how.

perhaps they’ll listen now.

she was daring, she was brave, she was intelligent. she loved muggle music, especially rock, and read a lot of books—remus’ collection of muggle classics no exception. she simply devoured them.

lucy was infallibly kind, caring, and loyal—nearly to a detriment. she was able to talk sirius and james out of the near cruelty that they targeted at severus snape... on occasion.

severus still held that resentment, for all of them.

essentially, remus thought she was too good for this world, for being close to the likes of him. she was dancing with a lycanthrope.

she had her flaws, as humans did. she was reckless, she was selfish at times, she was quick to be irritated, and she was capable of cruelty.

and not that it was to her detriment as a person, but she was horribly sad. depression was her cage, similarly to remus, but her’s was more violent. much, much more violent.

for they could not love you,

but still your love was true.

and when no hope was left in sight,

on that starry, starry night,

you took your life, as lover’s often do.

but i could have told you, vincent,

this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you.

“have you ever thought about it?”

remus felt his heart sink. he knew what she had meant, almost too obviously.

“more times than i could count.”

she leaned her head against his chest, saddened. they had stopped dancing, just holding one another.

and it was true, as horrible as the truth was. even as a child, remus lupin had fully wanted to die. fully and truly.

“there was no intent,” he admitted. for, as much as he had wanted his existence cut short... he had reasons to live, people to love who, in return, loved him back, as bewildering as it was to him.

“there was no intent for me, either... i had you. i have you. and that is enough.”

lucy was too good, too vibrant to want that for herself, and remus tried to suppress the tingle of tears.

now i think i know,

what you tried to say to me.

how you suffered for your sanity,

how you tried to set them free.

they would not listen,

they’re not listening still.

perhaps they never will.

the song came to a close, the final notes plucked on the guitar.

they were each other’s reason.

and as he looked at lucy, as they were breaking loose from each other’s hold, as she smiled at him and walked back to her notes...

remus agreed.

that was enough.

[heyheydidjaknow]

For anyone who is wondering why I deleted the chapters, I was very tired and forgot what tenses were, so I had to go back and change it all, and that is a pain on Tumbr. Tumblr also, apparently, either has a character or word limit, so this is our first 2 parter. I know I could just separate them into chapters, but I feel weird about making a whole chapter devoted to a date, so.

Edit: Who was gonna tell me I misspelled Casey?

Chapter 6 Pt 1

Leo sighs. “Okay, the fact that this will be the second creepiest stunt you’ve pulled this week says a lot.”

“Relax.” Donatello draws another line. “If she has a map of the foreseeable future and showed it to me, it obviously makes sense that I should answer in kind.”

“But,” Raphael points out, “this is the most desperate thing he’s done this week.”

“Zip it.” He caps his pen, holding his diagram up and walking off to his newly obtained whiteboard. “Besides, it’s not a comprehensive flow chart—attempting to list every possible conversation thread would be futile. It's simply a visual aid to remember the general actions I should take in any given situation.” Although you have been promising to “teach him a thing or two” about plot structure one on one, a part of him thinks it appropriate to make the first move. It appears to be the gallant thing to do, anyhow.

Mikey hops over the table, following one of the paths with his finger. “How come you have a shark on this one?”

“Oh,” he nods, “that’s in case she decides to go to the beach and gets attacked by a shark.”

“And why are there these Xs on this one?”

“That signifies the end of one of our lives.”

“And the hearts?”

He blushes. “I’m not answering that.”

Raph shudders. “Man, this just feels gross. I can already feel the secondhand disgust.”

“Raphael,” Donatello sighs, “love is a complex enigma that, if not thoroughly considered and tailored, will crumble before your very eyes. I cannot and will not destroy what little relationship we have by being reckless. Besides,” he scoffs, “in what other possible manner could I ask her out?”

“Hey, Y/N,” Leo offers, “let’s hang out.”

“See, that’s too pedestrian.” He gestures to the poster. “Trust in the—”

You slam through the door. Donnie, apparently panicked, flips the board over with fumbling hands. “H-hey, Y/N. Hey.” He stands up properly, clearing his throat. “Hey.”

You point at him. “How do you feel about busting a corrupt disgrace to the title of scientist?”

“Good!” He peaks at his board, trying to steal himself. “Where are we headed?”

“A neuroscientist by the name of Rockwell got mutated.” You start heading out. “Asshole in question is Victor Falco, AKA Feral Falco, AKA The Rat King if we don’t haul ass. He’s at Rockwell’s lab.”

“Awesome. Let’s go.” He runs after you, shooting a thumbs-up back at his brothers.

You are going to murder a man tonight. Probably. Hopefully not. Depends on how hard it is to wreck his shit. You have been stalking the Channel 6 news for about a week now, waiting for the jackass to show up, and now that he has? You are not about to let him become the monster you knew he could and would become.

“So,” Donnie startles you, lost in thought, “how was your first day of class?”

“It was fine. Met Casey, avoided Irma like the plague, all that jazz.” You turn a right.

“Casey?”

“Casey Jones. Hockey player, real bad at math.”

“A guy?” He seems interested in this subject for some reason.

“Yup.” You reach into your bag, wrapping your fingers around your kitchen knife, hands already shaking. If you must kill him, you will make it quick. “My age.”

“Oh.” He sighs. “That’s… nice.”

‘Can I just take him to the police? I don't have any evidence. This is breaking and entering.’

He clears his throat. “Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“We’re here.”

You look up at the building, sigh. “So we are.”

He moves in front of you, moving to meet you at eye-level. “Is there anything I need to know before we go in?”

You take a deep breath. “The man in the lab coat is the perp. We need to take him down, first and foremost. He may act a fool, but he’s accountable for the mutation of his partner. We either have to incapacitate, convict or, if necessary, kill him.”

He swallows. “This guy is that bad?”

“Not yet.” You start pulling the knife out properly as you push the door open with your clothed arm. “But it’s best to pull a weed out from the root.”

He follows you closely.

You look down at your phone to double-check that this is the offending room. “Here.” You back up, gesturing to the door eccentrically, heart pounding in your chest. “This is the room.”

He approaches you, brow furrowed. “Y/N,” he asks cautiously, “don’t take this the wrong way, but you look sick. Are you alright?”

You nod. “Nervous is all. Haven’t done this sort of thing before.”

He offers a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry.” He gives you a thumbs up. “I’ll be with you every step of the way, alright?”

Your knuckles go white around the grip as you try to release some tension. ‘Don’t choke. That’s his job.’ “Yeah.” You return it. “Oh, are you free tomorrow night? I still have to give you that lesson.”

His face lights up. “Y-yeah! Totally!” He grins eagerly. “Should I go to your place? At what time?”

“We’ll hash out the details on the way back.” You look prominently to the lock. “Now, I take it you have some gadget or gizmo to help us open this bad boy?”

He kneels, pulling a device from the utility belt on his hip and sliding it into the card reader. “Of course.”

The door lets out a harsh buzz, the light turning green. You pull your sleeve forward onto your hand, pushing the door open.

The room smells like metal and mold and decay, a certain lethality hanging in the air when you enter. You stay close to the wall, pulling down a lever to illuminate the harsh laboratory in an even harsher light. And there, caught frozen as he pockets a vial, is Victor Falco.

His eyes flicker towards the door.

You tackle him to the ground, shifting your weight back onto his legs, and pin his arms above his head. “Donnie,” you call, stopping his struggling with a knife pressed against his neck, “would you be so kind as to find a few things for me? I can tell you where they are in the room, but I’m a bit preoccupied.”

“Uh, sure.” His voice sounds strange to you. Tight. Nervous? Confused? You ignore it for now.

“What is the meaning of this,” the scientist bellows from underneath you. “I demand you give me an explanation!”

“Oh be quiet, traitor.” You press the blade against his skin. “We both know the crime you’ve committed against your partner.”

His eyes widen.

You keep your eyes locked on him at all times. “The first thing you’re looking for is a container of mutagen. When you get to the desk, you should see 2 stacks of drawers.”

You do not hear his footsteps. “Mhm.”

“The bottom left drawer has a false bottom. If you pull it up, you’ll find a canister of mutagen.”

You hear the drawer slide open, the shuffling of papers. “Got it.”

“Fantastic. Now, on the desk should be a flash drive belonging to Rockwell. Grab that.”

“How could you possibly know?” You feel his wrist tense as he clenched his fist. “I was so thorough.”

“I’m psychic,” you lie, smiling coldly. “Be happy I met you here and not in your home.”

“Anything else?”

“Whatever is in his pockets, besides car keys and a wallet. You’re getting new chemicals.”

The doctor does not seem to like that idea. He starts writhing underneath you.

“If you don’t stop moving,” you sigh, bringing the knife up and down quickly, hovering over his left eye, “you, a neuroscientist, will have the pleasure of discovering firsthand if what people say about losing your depth perception is true. See, I’ve always heard that it settles, but I’m more than happy to see it happen firsthand if you’ll indulge me.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“You aren’t sure.” You chuckle darkly, fingers wrapping tighter still around his wrists. “I don’t need to be a psychic to feel your shaking.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see a green blob crouch down, pulling vials from his pockets.

“You’re a child.”

“And yet I’m the one holding a knife to you.” ‘Why am I so calm?’ “You’re selfish. You’re prideful. You won’t try anything because I know you to be cowardly, and you won’t say anything,” you nod, “because, if you did, you would have to admit to breaking into your missing partner’s lab, and deal with the backlash regarding me and my associate bringing that hard drive to the police and letting them connect the dots.” You smile sweetly. “Donnie, would you be so kind as to get some distance between you and Mr. Falco?” You do not look over at him, focused on the current task. “If he pulls anything, you need to be able to bring that to the police.”

“Got it.” A few seconds pass. “I’m by the door.”

You slide the carving knife in that general direction. “Goodnight, Falco.” You grab his hair, slamming his head against the ground once as you leap to your feet. You grab the knife, sprinting towards the door. “And that is our cue to leave.”

Donatello, who is having interesting feelings about the whole thing, appears to have been snapped out of some sort of trance. He nods, and the both of you exit the scene.

--

You wipe your mouth on your sleeve, shaking as you rest your chin on the edge of the dumpster. “T-thanks,” you smile shakily. “I appreciate it, really.”

“Not at all.” He let your locks fall from his hand. “I imagine it’s hard, what with having hair and all.” He helps you down from your perch on a stack of crates. “Are you feeling alright now?”

“Besides my mouth tasting like stomach acid? Never better.” You sigh, rubbing your face with your hands. “Sorry. The nerves just kinda…” you trail off, cheeks dusted pink. “Well, you get the idea.”

“It’s alright, really.” He smiles fondly. “You were really bold in there. It was really cool.”

“I don’t feel cool. I feel the opposite of cool.” You start down the alleyway. “But at least we stopped a ton of problems in its tracks.”

You hear a primal cry as a large primate lands in front of you.

You look him in the eyes, already tired of this episode. “Good evening, Dr. Rockwell.”

His eyes snap to Donatello, who was already unsheathing his bo staff. You look over your shoulder at him. “Chill out. He’s cool.”

“He’s a giant monkey!”

“Dude, he’s a well-esteemed scientist.” You turn to face him properly, holding his arms out to get some proper separation. “Put the effin stick down.”

“But—” He stops, takes a deep breath, and sheathes the staff. “Alright. I’ll trust you.” He seems almost disturbed by your apparent ease.

You turn back to face him properly, smiling. “Doctor,” you nod, “your partner will be of no concern to you from this point onward. Rest assured; his research has been halted.” Your tone is politely respectful.

The wild eyes of the primate calm. He seems to at least sense the general sentiment. He nods once, leaping up onto the nearest rooftop and disappearing into the night.

You nod in satisfaction, looking back at the stunned Donatello.

“He calmed down so easily.”

“He has a human mind, for the most part.” You shrug, continuing down the alley. “Let’s head back. Man, if you dad knew the kind of trouble I just got him out of.” You giggle at his dumbstruck expression, walking backward to keep facing him. “Well, are you just gonna stand there lookin pretty or are you going to come with?”

His face goes red. He nods once, hurrying after you.

You two walk quietly for a little over a minute. “Hey, uh, can I ask you something?”

“Totally.” You decide to bite the bullet and pull of the manhole cover. “What’s up?”

“Why do you call him that?”

“Call who what?” You start climbing down.

“You know, not call him Master Splinter.” He pulls the cover back on, landing beside you. “You always call him my dad or Yoshi or Mr. Hamato.”

“Well,” you shrug, “he’s your dad, right?”

“I’m not saying it’s a problem,” he clarified, “or that’s it’s incorrect, but most people—myself included—refer to him as Master Splinter.”

You start walking with him. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Donnie,” you sigh, “but, if I can help it, I honestly hope I never have to call him that.”

“Why?” He walks beside you, eyes tracing your figure subtlety.

“Didn’t I already say?” You nod back in the direction you guys came from. “You saw how I acted back there. This is only episode six or seven. The trauma I’d have to go through as a ninja here would kill me,”

“But you have the guts for it.” His voice is certain. “You’re strong enough, mentally, to be a ninja.”

You pause, your throat catching. You wonder if he would still think so if he had seen how you had spent your nights.

He clears his throat, blushing again. “I think you are, anyway.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face in the crook of his neck silently. You feel him seize up under you. “Thank you,” you mumble.

He slowly relaxes, snaking his arms around your waist and pulling you closer. He rests his head on top of yours gently. Slowly, he buries his hand in your hair. He is always so warm— he makes you feel oddly safe. This is only the second time you have been this physically close to him, but you don’t think for a moment that he would try anything.

You back off, clearing your throat as your cheeks catch fire. “Sorry,” you smile timidly. “I’ve just been… I’m not usually this clingy.”

He blinks out of his stupor, looking down at you. “Huh? Oh, don’t worry about it.” He grinned giddily, almost drunk. “Y-You are all good.”

You swallow. “I’ve gotta do an introduction type project for school, so I gotta get back home.” You walk back in the direction you two came. “Come to my place at about seven tomorrow. I’ll order food.”

He nods, body relaxed. “Seven. Got it.” He does.

You wave, walking back to the ladder. “Then I’ll see you then.”

He stands there, watching you leave. As soon as he hears the sliding of the manhole cover back into place, he takes a moment to celebrate the victory before starting to walk back to the lair.

‘I got a date!’

Table of Contents

Chapter 5

Chapter 6, Part 2

[tosikoarts]

SFW Alphabet | Shiraishi Yoshitake

Long live the King! You can check tosikowrites tag for more. Warning: there’s a lot under the cut.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Relationship for Shiraishi is more about friendship with intimacy than a long tradition-based order of courtship and conventions. His affection does not manifest in standard gestures like buying flowers or singing serenades, acting all gentlemanly and saving the day pompously like a romantic novel protagonist. If he ever does anything from list above, it is his daydreaming that he doesn’t try to bring to life.

One of Shiraishi’s main goal in the relationship is to keep his partner happy, and the main sign that they are happy is their shrill laughter. It doesn’t matter if they are laughing because stray toothy animal bit his head or because the joke was funny (yay!), mission accomplished and he is satisfied.  Seeing them cry is worse than being hit hundred times with a baton.

Every single soul in the one kilometer radius know whom Shiraishi loves and why he loves them and how amazing, adorable, lovely, cool they are. Sugimoto and Asirpa are making earplugs because Shiraishi can’t shut the hell up. He managed to piss off the men who kidnapped him with bragging about his loved one. Kiroranke puts maximum effort not to bury him in the nearest snowdrift. His admiration doesn’t die down through years.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

The best friend to get dumb with. Sing inappropriate songs, prank others, annoy boring elders and all this jazz. His jokes are never offensive because Shiraishi wants to have good time only but they are unpredictable and never repetitive. His instinct of self-preservation goes m.i.a. in the process so it’s literally life-saving to have a reliable person by the side.

If you need a friend to gossip with Shiraishi is you best choice. He got hot tea on everyone, I mean e v e r y o n e, from old man Hijikata to naïve Koito and he needs best friend to spill it. Damn, Shiraishi is definitely that bih with neon acrylics and golden hoops.

Probably the friend that introduce you to people and brings you into new circles. Wide range of characters, social statuses, affiliations gives a chance to meet potential partners. There is one unspoken rule though: you come here as Shiraishi’s bff, you leave this place as Shiraishi’s bff.

Speaking of which, he comes across as possessive friend. Restriction of other’s social circle and constant need in validation aren’t his behavior traits, but Shiraishi is sensitive to subtle changes in communication. Sole possibility of losing the established connection gives him extreme anxiety. To avoid it he can make concessions and sacrifice his own interests for them.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Eeh, indifferent? He doesn’t seem like a big fan of cuddling but will do it on occasions. When lights are down and they are in a private of the room, Shiraishi may spoon them to feel the comfort of another person and a little bit of safety he finds in their touch. He doesn’t have a preferred position as well: whatever his loved one wants he will do without hesitation.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

The closest home equivalent that Shiraishi knows is a dark prison cell and this is how he sees the stability in its best light. Yep, same food every day, funny inadequacies behind the adjacent wall, and a guy in not-so-sexy uniform who checks his asshole now and then. What a paradise. Seriously, he needs time to get used to concept of comfort zone. Maybe, after few years Shiraishi himself will offer to find a cozy place for both of them. Average cook. Doesn’t know how to hold a broom.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Breaking up with Shiraishi is a whole three-ring circus because he is hot and then cold, yes and then no. Get ready to prepare sad clown look for both you and him because it will be a long story: as soon as the idea settles in his head, Shiraishi will turn into giant wreck. Everybody around notices him walking in circles as well as asking Sugimoto how to properly show person that he is not interested. Of course, he ignores rational “just tell them, set a record straight”. Of course, Shiraishi plays dumb and tries to distance himself in all ways possible and impossible. The only way to end this agony is to break the relationship yourself before the mutual sympathy and respect turn into disgust and tension.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Doesn’t experience a burning passion to get married but doesn’t completely discards this possibility either. If person seems to be the only one, the meant one, Shiraishi will pop a question after 3-4 years of stable relationship. Cruel push and pull game, sudden break ups and get backs together kill his will to settle down. He may stay with them but Shiraishi will never bring up thought of marriage, wedding bells, and family.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Even the prison could not knock softness out of Shiraishi: he is utterly gentle with his partner, dreading hurting them or jeopardize their life with the hunt of tattooed skins. Choosing the right words is a little more complicated so translation of an emotional mess in his head does not always convey implied sentiment. That’s the reason why Shiraishi may be unintentionally harsh when it comes to serious conversations: he is torn between being tender and showing firm character.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Somehow, loves hugs but rarely initiate them. He is almost always cold, his skin feels cold and rough like papyrus paper, therefore, his partner frequently serves as a living heater. When they are busy with work or chores, Shiraishi catches their hand and embraces their arm, practically immobilizing it. Hints fly left and right when Shiraishi wants a hug: he really comes to the partner with puppy eyes and  index finger pointing towards one another because no, he won’t go for it himself, he want his loved one to do it.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Mentally, he already did it when they met for first time but it takes at least a month for Shiraishi to say three magic words aloud. Two would be even better. He's not serious enough to wait for the friendly phase of a romantic relationship when people have already got used to each other. The longer the relationship lasts, the more serious Shiraishi gets though. You can hear it in the changing of his voice when his playful “I love you so so much” shifts to calm and earnest confession.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Easily jealoused walking disaster that will follow his partner like a poodle if they give him a reason to doubt their faithfulness. Sometimes Shiraishi overreacts, he even thought Sugimoto was looking at his loved one somehow weirdly but quickly brushed this idea off just for it to come back to him next day. Shiraishi gets extremely needy and tries to show everybody that this is HIS person. He is NOT sharing. They love ME. He gives them extra kisses, hugs, grabs their hand and squeezes it few times, smiles at them as much as he physically can.

If his loved one is the one being overly flirtatious, Shiraishi feels awful. Wave of insecurity knocks him off the feet and he doesn’t know what to do. He is overthinker so without proper explanation Shiraishi comes up with the worst scenarios possible. In this case he distance himself until person reassures him in their relationship.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

In the beginning, Shiraishi seems the worst kisser in the world. He has little experience, almost no experience to be honest: yujo do not have time to teach clients the art of kissing. So, yeah, he is pretty average, goofy, sloppy and eager. Wants to kiss everywhere anyhow.  

After a little bit of training his kisses become more sophisticated, and Shiraishi himself doesn’t try to jump on his partner with smooches. He is still impatient when they put their hands on him and tends to get touchy even in public places. When Shiraishi gets in the mood for kissing session, he is unstoppable.

There is a sweet spot right under the earlobe kissing which send Shiraishi on the cloud nine. One kiss and he surrounds to the will of the partner. Ask whatever you want. Besides that he doesn’t care where to be kissed. Likes to give his partner gentle pecks on the nose and cheeks.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

If you remember chart going around the Tumblr with categories like “wine aunt, great at babysitting, mediocre at babysitting” Shiraishi would fall both in “God is dead, house is on fire” and “Is a baby”. Kids absolutely love him because they are on the same level *cough cough* and he is overall funny guy unlike the most adults around. Shiraishi likes active games and never sits still. For every crying child he got a candy and few tricks in his sleeve. He would love to be a father one day so he has few more minions to annoy grumpy people.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

People who sleep in together stay together. This is the rule of Yoshitake house. No matter what time his partner wakes up Shiraishi wakes up later. Nine in the morning? He is in the bed until noon. Three in the afternoon? He is still sleeping, squeezing his partner tightly in his arms. Even after waking up Shiraishi stays under the blanket. He playfully asks the loved one if they want to keep him company and cuddle too but if they are in hurry, he will lazily crawl out of bed and cook something for them.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Prefers to spend night outside gambling or drinking, skinny-dipping, lying in the grass and telling fables with varying percentage of truth. In the cold season Shiraishi still likes to go downtown but mainly to meet old friends and have dinner with them and his loved one. Rarely he chooses to stay in the comfort of home. Shiraishi teaches his partner different board games, and soon playing turns into a competition. From time to time Shiraishi loses on purpose, gifting sweet victory in shogi/igo/karuta to the most significant person in his life.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

You don’t have to ask anything unless you want to spend next hour listening to Shiraishi’s biography. He will tell you about the relationship with parents, about childhood scar on the knee, about search of Sister Miyazawa, and what a bastards his cellmates were. The list is endless, and every day Shiraishi remembers one more story he forgot to tell. There are only two things that can stop him: firm “no, not now, Shiraishi” from the partner and lack of mutual openness on their part.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

It is impossible to piss Shiraishi off. His ability to reduce everything to a joke does not help only in advanced cases where person wanted to break his neck from the beginning. Even when his patience runs out, Shiraishi cannot explode in anger, he just grimaces, stomps, and spits sarcasm. In everyday life, he avoids conflicts as much as possible and does everything to find a convenient compromise so you won’t catch him slipping. He would rather go for a walk and leave another person to cool down than get involved in heated argument.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He doesn’t remember shit if his partner doesn’t indicate that it is important information. Worth remembering. Shiraishi, please, listen. At the same time he notices slight changes in their appearance, from new haircut to ring, and keeps in mind such details like eye color, favorite clothes, maybe, particular qualities like never buttoning shirt up completely or writing notes on the wrist. Anniversaries? Baby, he doesn’t remember what day it is today. Just give up.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

The first kiss. Not only did it happen completely by accident due to a bet, but it was so awkward and unexpected that Shiraishi forgot how kissing works. Yep, he froze feeling their warm lips on his, only eyebrows slightly raised up in disbelief. After this incident, Shiraishi could not stop thinking about them. God, he is disgrace, to embarrass yourself in front of the person you like. It could not be otherwise. To remedy the situation, Shiraishi pulled himself together, remembered the cheesiest lines in the reserve, and suggested to try again because he was astonished by their daring attitude. He has no idea what happened after that but that spontaneous kiss with a touch of childishness and innocence stayed with him forever.

Oh, one more moment! Meeting them after coming back from Karafuto. Honestly, Shiraishi didn’t believe he will make it out alive. Ogata or Kiroranke could slice his throat, hide the body, and tell Asirpa he left with his tail between his legs. Therefore, it is miracle to see their adorable face again.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Let’s be real, he is the one who needs protection. He also needs some ass-whooping for getting in troubles regularly too but that is not the point. Shiraishi rarely stands up against obviously strong opponents and chooses famous Joestar backup plan – run for his life with loved one under his arm. Another option includes involvement of threatening allies, mostly Sugimoto, to save them both. Sometimes courage overwhelms him, and Shiraishi comes up with risky but bold plan how to save them without outside help but it happens much less often.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Most of the time, Shiraishi hopes that everything will be fine by itself, every event will run like clockwork without excessive effort. Dates are unpretentious: no fancy restaurants, exquisite gifts, long intricate confessions of endless love, etc. To his credit, Shiraishi takes chores more or less seriously and does his best. For the anniversaries he transforms in person you've never seen before: dressed immaculately Shiraishi holds a small bouquet of bright moss phlox and box of sweet sakuramochis, his face glows with happiness and love, however, you can sense a nervousness behind the wide smile. On days so special, he is afraid to ruin the mood with usual tomfoolery.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Canonically, Shiraishi is not the tidiest person around. For some it may be stumbling block because constant battle with desire to throw him in hot springs and scrub ingrained dirt with the hardest sponge can be too tiresome. Also Shiraishi bites his nails until they bleed as well as pulls the hangnails until his fingers start to hurt.

A sense of proportion leaves Shiraishi as soon as a bottle of sake appears on the horizon. Even though he is funny and harmless drinker, he goes overboard with alcohol to end up throwing out behind the nearest pine.

Little lies always slip through the conversation no matter what it is about. When the truth is revealed, it is too late to blame him.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Shiraishi doesn’t care about his appearance but likes to get compliments on it. He knows bunch of tricks how to remove different stains from clothes in the wild and doesn't know how to avoid them. One look is enough for Shiraishi: he could wear his old prison uniform for life time because it is strangely comfortable and universal for any event. Except the pursuit by guards, of course.

Has mixed feelings about his tattoos. Living with them is to sit on a powder keg: you never know when the new man with the gold rush will try to scalp you alive.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Gets very, very attached to the friends and loved ones so break up feels like punch in the gut. Unlike the rest, Shiraishi basically refuses to let go. He gets clingy, keeps acting like nothing happened, like they are still the best friends, just to cover up growing emptiness inside. No matter how hard he ignores it, Shiraishi can feel how part of him fades. Sometimes even abrupt refusal doesn’t work, but it’s simply his way to deal with sadness.  After few weeks, he has an insight that things will never be the same and that when it hits him. Shiraishi tries to distance himself and it takes all of his strength since by this time he becomes easily distracted, irritated, and whiny. He needs months to get over it.

If they died or were killed, Shiraishi puts effort to maintain his clown image. Only closest people can notice small detail that give away his sorrow and melancholy. Doesn't attempt to get revenge. The time to recover increases to year.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Do you think Shiraishi went to jail so often because of negligence? Partially, yes. Besides the fact Shiraishi is being hopeless fool, he finds prison cell a great place to take a break from fleeting life. If you think about it time slows down behind bars. There’s no point to worry what tomorrow will bring, how to survive and make it through another scuffle, and his impressive skills guarantee him easy escape.

Shiraishi has joint hypermobility syndrome which helps him bend joints at unusual angles and even pull bones out of the fossae. Prolonged arthralgia is a side effect that Shiraishi had to deal with from the first conscious days. There are days when the pain becomes so excruciating that he just wants to lie still and stare at the sky for 24 hours.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Continuous scolding when there is a reason and when there is not. Yes, with his behavior it is difficult to resist the urge to say a couple of strong words or raise your voice, and Shiraishi is totally okay with it until rebuke becomes daily tradition.

Shiraishi's thoughts are always in motion, usually Brownian motion, his body twitches even when he tries to sit calmly in one place so stagnation in any form would be the death of him. This includes repetitive thoughts, boring behavior, and general passivity.

Shiraishi is genuinely upset if his partner doesn't like children. This is an inexplicable feeling, he really hurts if they ignore little ones or, worse, openly express dislike for kids.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Prepare yourself to unexpected awakening in the middle of the night, you will have a lot of them. Shiraishi keeps running from guardians of the law even in his sleep: he kicks, turns, throws his arms out to the sides for the most part of the night. Accidental elbow blow to the nose is not uncommon either. Worst of all, he does not wake up after that!

In the morning Shiraishi likes to sneak closer to his loved one and just presses him onto them. Like, completely. He throws his leg over them, hugs them, presses his cheek to their back, and if it feels just right in winter, in summer such cuddle can be a real test.

Abrupt sleep schedule changes do not bother Shiraishi at all. His organism is so adapted to the crazy lifestyle that he stays fresh even after sleepless night, after waking up at 3 a.m. and going to bed at 3 p.m.

[aeipathcy]

@kingspuppet * ✭ ❪ plotted starter ❫ 

The jazz club was a place much different from the places she visited during her daily routines. It was unlike the crowded school halls and very much unlike the emptiness of her home. If anything, the club felt more like a safe place than anywhere she usually went. There was something about the lighting, the atmosphere of the place, and the live music playing in the background that helped settle her nerves after a good hour or two of lounging here.

Today was a slightly different case than the usual, the girl having only arrived since she had no backup plan for where to stay after getting kicked out again. Normally, she would’ve have called some classmate or someone relatively trustworthy to ask for a place to stay the night upon the door being slammed in her face, but this evening, she didn’t feel like calling anyone right away (not that she knew who to call in the first place—she didn’t have friends). And who knew, maybe he wouldn’t be mad if she simply stayed out for a couple hours anyhow.

Unfortunately, her favorite table—the one in the corner by the entrance—was occupied by a large party drinking away. Reanne didn’t want to sit anywhere near a party involving alcohol. As her eyes scanned the room, she realized that there was hardly any choice to be had as there was only one table left with open seats, a table hosting a single boy who seemed to be all by himself and possibly around her age.

Having no choice, she approached the table and slipped into the seat placed diagonally from the lone table occupant. Letting out a heavy sigh of relief as her feet were finally given the chance to rest from the long walk she had made to get here, the girl cast a side glance towards the other person at the table, her dark brown eyes tempted to narrow in an effort to diminish his presence in her visual perception. However, she couldn’t do that, because the second she laid her eyes on him, the girl couldn’t help but find herself thinking him as attractive. He was pretty up close.

Stunned for a moment, she kept quiet. He was probably someone her father would approve of, good-looking and definitely charismatic, charming too, probably had money to boot. But that didn’t mean he’d be saved from the harshness of her tongue at all, ❝ So, did all your friends bail on you or are you just that much of a pathetic loner to be sitting here by yourself in a place like this? ❞

[lady-maria-the-wolf225]

Mikey x reader Ch:8

Mikey's P.O.V

I've been ignoring my bros nearly all day. They were noticing it as they try to apologize, yet they would still tell me it's not right having a relationship with a human like (Y/N). I did ask Raph if he really meant what he said weeks ago about her being a keeper and April being too boring. Turns out, he was only joking about it. That really made me angry. They tried everything they could to cheer me up. Hell. I even lost my appetite for eating pizza. Master Splinter told them to just leave me be and focus what we had to do. I especially don't want to go to that stupid mission on what the purple dragons were up to. They can just go without me. I sat on my bed thinking about (Y/N) all day. My stomach was growling, my eyes were restless, and my blood was boiling. Somehow I feel like I'm turning into Raph. whatever. It is what it is. Just as the day couldn't get any worse, Splinter took away my video games and comics for the day as a punishment. Glad it wasn't the hashi. Leo opened the door to my room and walked up to me as I curled myself into a ball. "Mikey. Get up. It's time to go." I threw a pillow at his face and silently ignored him. He yanked me up from bed, and gave me my nunchucks. "Come on little brother. No time for immature fits. We have a mission to get to." I look down and I sigh. I didn't bring my board because....I wasn't in a happy mood. Instead of doing flips and running wild, I walked and didn't care. Minutes passed, and we finally made it to the purple dragon's lair. Donnie used his goggles to analyze what was going on. After that was done, we got down from the rooftop and the purple dragons started attacking us. I attacked a few of them, but then I realized my brothers are distracted from the fight. Now would be my chance to leave. And so, I did. I disappeared into the night as my lame bros kept on fighting.

End of P.O.V

Mikey jumped from rooftop to rooftop until he made it to (Y/N)'s apartment. He knocked onto the window, and she noticed him. She smiled as she opened it. He was out of breath like the other day. Mikey crawled inside, and got up immediately after. He looked at her and hugged her tightly. "I'm sorry if I was running late angel cakes....I had some family issues lately." she looked at him worried as he said that. "What happened?" Mikey took a deep breath and carried her bridal style. "I'll explain later. now . How about that dinner we had planned?" she nods, and off to the sewers they go! They finally made it within seconds since Mikey is lightning fast after all. He gently sets her down, and takes her to his room. "It didn't take me that long to set it up, but..." he revealed to her a small table with candles lit and flowers in a glass vase. "Oh mikey! It's lovely!" (Y/N) smiled wide at him, and he smiled back. "Glad you love it baby. Lemme go get our dinner." he runs to the kitchen, but nearly forgot that splinter was still in the lair. But asleep. So Mikey quietly ran to the kitchen, got the food, and quietly ran back to his room by the table. "Okay (Y/N). got the food. it's spaghetti!" The spaghetti itself was very tasty looking. (Y/N) took a small taste of it, and loved it. "I didn't know you could cook mikey!" he chuckles as he explains. "Well I have some talents that my brothers can't nearly pull off" (Y/N) giggled, and Mikey got up. "How about some music to set up the mood?" (Y/N) nods in agreement as Mikey takes out his boombox radio, and turns it on. When he turned it on though, instead of soft romantic smooth jazz, punk rock music blasted out of the speakers which made the poor guy jump. He presses the switch button lightning fast, but the station won't switch itself. Just then, he pressed the eject button, and the music abruptly stopped. He took out the CD, and he switched it to what he wanted. (Y/N) chuckled at him and shook her head as the soft sound of jazz filled the room. He blushes in embarrassment and giggles. "Sorry. I keep forgetting Raph always uses my boombox to hear his favorite music for his workouts at full blast." (Y/N) nodded in understanding and the two started eating. It was silent until Mikey spoke after swallowing his meal. "Um....yeah. About the family issue. My brothers and...my dad... they....they don't appreciate us being together because of all the danger involved" (Y/N) put her fork down, and looked at him sadly. "Mikey....who cares what they say. You're no longer a young child. You're fully grown." he sighs and looks at her. "If only I were human, none of this would be a thing." (Y/N) hugs him lovingly, and kisses his cheek. "Oh mikey. I know how worrying it is. But I don't care at all! I love you no matter what." he hugs her back and then smiles. "Thank you (Y/N). I'm glad you are in my life. Nothing will get between us." They both smiled at each other, and went back to eating. Just ask (Y/N) grabs a piece of noodle, Mikey grabs the other end and they slurp closer together, until they eventually kiss. (Y/N) giggled cutely, as Mikey chuckled himself. After eating ended, they sat down on the couch and just relaxed for a bit. The lair was very quiet. Not a single peep was heard. Mikey started to grow bored. So they decided to take a walk. As they headed out, it was snowing. Luckily, Mikey had a winter coat and hat on. They walked around in the silent peaceful city as the snowflakes glitter to the floor before them. They both held hands, and looked at each other with so much love. He takes her to the rooftops, and stares at the city with glowing street lights. "I had a great time Mikey. That was the best date ever." Mikey looks at (Y/N) and smiles. "You really think so?" she smiles back, and nods in response. They both kiss holding hands, until....his brothers are being heard from afar. "Where is that little no good twerp!? I swear if he's home, I'm gonna-" Leo interrupts him "enough Raph! But still. If he is with that girl, he is totally dead!" Mikey and (Y/N) gasp in shock, and he safely carries her to the ground. "can you get home safely? By yourself?" (Y/N) nods, kisses his cheek, and runs home waving goodbye as Mikey waves back and talks softly "See ya soon angel cakes." he rushes back to the lair, and manages to get there on time before his brothers do. He takes off his coat, mittens, and hat and lays onto his bed pretending to read comic books. His brothers came home, and Donnie called him. "Mikey! Could you come down for a second please? We need to talk to you!" He ignores them, and all three shouted. "NOW MIKEY!!" he sighs and goes to have a long chat with them. He doesn't care anyhow. As long as he's with (Y/N), he feels whole and wants to have a normal love life like all humans do. Despite that, he hopes nothing goes downhill anyway.

(Chapter 9 coming soon)