#anyway poor dude just goes through it

[andromeddog]

malarkey (and a bit of skip)

[servicpop]

Hhhhhhh this is gonna be embarrassing 4 me to write out shshjsjs but I LOVE your writing and I have a request

If your like up for it, could you write another yanfic? But cowboy x ‘showgirl’ (a dude cross dressing for fun) it’s sfw

Like the cowboy goes to one of the readers shows and is immediately obsessed with the performer who he assumes is just a really flat woman, but when the cowboy goes backstage to find the woman he’s met with a man who looks identical to the woman on stage and realizes that the woman of his dreams was actually a man and to the cowboy that’s even better

N they go on a date and it’s fluffy and shit cus i love fluff and cowboys, i really fucking love cowboys

-🎱

✶ ﹑ love at first performance ﹏

NOW STARRING : Soft cowboy (Cole Hudson) x show"girl" reader

「ㅤSFWㅤ」ㅤCole goes to watch one of reader's show and was captivated by the performance but he didn't know that reader wasn't really a showgirl.

✙ warnings — fluff, reader cross-dresses, addresses reader as woman in the first bit (he doesn't know yet) use of her once! I'm not very good at portraying a cowboy well...

notes ,, this got me doing my research ! not too sure if this is accurate for show girls (⁠｡⁠ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠) not proofread!

Dusty boots scraped on the floor as Cole navigated through the bustling crowd; his heart raced from how many people there were. As the cowboy wandered in the dimly lit venue, his gaze fixated on the stage where beautiful women dressed in flamboyant clothing that glittered and swayed with their movement, danced along with the rhythm of music blaring through speakers. One showgirl especially caught Cole's attention. The way your body moved like water was hypnotising and he coupling stop his heart from thumping against his ribcage.

At first, Cole wasn't interested in these loud events; always scarin' his poor cows and his horse, but this time his pal had really insisted for him to visit one. 'It would be fun,' he said, 'see lots of spectacular performances and maybe some cute girls,' he said. So, Cole rode his horse into the heart of town and here he was now, stuck between sweaty bodies and glaring lights in his eyes.

That one performer though, your radiance was brighter than the other showgirls. Cole was entranced by your dancing, oh how he wishes he was there with you, hand on your hips, slow dancing under the soft streetlights of his home town. He slid his hat off, placing it over his chest almost like he was trying to muffle the sound of his racing heart. The costumes were bright, dazzling, and flowed easily in the wind. They were also quite revealing, accentuating the girl's cleavage and showing off the performer's midriff. All but you.

Cole noticed the lack of well— a larger chest like the other girls had, but he just assumed you were flat-chested. That didn't matter to him, besides, he prefered modesty anyways. After a few minutes, your performance was unfortunately coming to an end. The music faded out and the vibrant lights dimmed as he watched you all bow. The venue filled with deafening clapping but Cole couldn't help but stare starry-eyed at you as you walked off stage. He needed to meet you in person.

The next act slowly made their way to the stage but Cole couldn't care less about them; it was a horse show! He's pretty skilled with horses himself so there was no need to stay. Once again he pushed through the crowd of cheering people, weaving his way out of the venue. When he emerged out, Cole was hit with the crisp night air, a stark contrast of freshness compared to inside the venue. His eyes scanned the area, trying to find where the performers went after their show and he was able to spot a small tent that had light seeping out of the gaps. Cole walked over to said tent and grazed the fabric with his fingertips in hesitancy. He took a deep breath; his chest heaving before he shut his eyes and pushed the fabric aside, walking inside.

He opened his eyes as he walked in, a few showgirls turned around to look at him with confused faces and he just stood there dumbfounded. The words he wanted to speak were clogged by the lump in his throat. You walked up to him, waving your hand infront of his face, "Hey, are you okay?" You asked with a raised eyebrow. He blinked a few times before tilting his head down to meet your gaze. Christ you were beautiful, almost hauntingly similar to the showgirl he was infatuated with earlier. "U—um, I'm looking for a specific showgirl that performed tonight and I was wonderin' if I can... find her," He mumbled out, his eyes locked onto your features as if he was assessing your face. "Are you two, by any chance, relatives of some sort?" He questioned, his country accent shining through his voice.

The girls giggled while taking off their make-up and Cole shot them a confused glance. You sighed with a small chuckle and you looked down at your feet, "By any chance, would this 'showgirl' you're looking for, be me?" Once again, Cole stared at you with his jaw open. He felt his heart strangely flutter despite knowing that you were a guy. He swore he wasn't into guys but you were— different. Not like any man he's seen. He just couldn't shake off his attraction towards you.

"You're a fella?"

"Yeah, you got a problem with that?"

"Well I'll be damned, you are one beauty."

The mixture of his country accent and your more refined accent strikingly contrasted but for some reason complemented eachother. City boy meets country boy. It seemed like Cole had a staring problem because once again, he was blankly gazing into your eyes. It was charming though, how Cole always looked like he was admiring you. Pretty flattering to say the least. Out of nowhere he spoke up...

"How 'bout takin' a ride on my horse?"

How did you get here? Holding onto Cole's waist, you screamed pathetically. Your eyes were screwed shut and your cheek was pressed against his back, all you could hear were hooves thumping on the ground and Cole's warm laugh that echoed through the valley. You two were going so fast that you swore you'd fall off if you didn't hold on tight enough. "You enjoying the ride darlin'?" Cole chuckled, peering over his shoulder to see you clutching onto him like a koala, "Slow down, please!" He ignored your pleas to slow down, "C'mon sweetheart, open your eyes, the stars tonight are just somethin' else!" He yelled through the noise of the wind instead. When he saw that you didn't budge from your terrified position, he just let out a soft laugh and placed one hand over your ones that were clasped around his waist. The warmth of his calloused palm spread to your fingertips and you almost forgot how cold it was tonight. "We're almost there, don't worry," his voice was gentle and thick like honey as he reassured you.

You weren't used to this, not used to the serene silence of the nature, not used to the wind beating so hard against your body, not used to clinging onto a cute cowboy for your dear life as he rode his horse with such passion. You've grown used to the smoke filling the city, used to the loud noises of late night partiers and engines running, used to being by yourself in an apartment with only the warmth of your blanket to keep you company. When was the last time you felt so— free?

The wind died down and you two slowly halted to a stop; you didn't even realise. "You can let go now sugar," Cole giggled as he waited for you to look up from the comfort of his back. You raised your head, your eyes meeting the beautiful scenery of a small cliff with forests lining the background and a starry display of the night sky that seemed like the stars were winking at you. This was a sight you could never see in the city. Cole slides off his horse, planting his two feet on the floor before extending a hand up to you to help you get off too. Your hand reluctantly meets his, the warmth of his palm returning to your finger tips as he guides you down, catching you when you hopped off. The way he handled you was so gentle, as if he was a beast and you were a fragile butterfly.

"Guess you could say we're on a date, huh?" Cole's smile punched your gut from how soft he looked, his hand never left yours. You scoff at his remark — but in a light-hearted way — as your eyes leave his instead, and returned to the scene presented infront of the both of you. It really did seem like a date, far more romantic than any fancy dinner in the big city. Oh and the way his eyes aren't even looking at the sky. He's looking at you. "Ain't it a sight for sore eyes?" He marvelled, and you know he's not talking about the scenery.

"Yeah, it really is," You breathed out quietly like your breath had just been taken away. Cole's eyes finally leave you and he stared at the soil beneath him before he spoke, his voice hushing to barely above a whisper, "You goin' back to the big city soon?" He doesn't want you to leave. Not now. Not yet. Before you could speak, his large hands bring yours together and he traps them between his. His eyes were wide and his brows were furrowed, "Please don't go," he blurted out, embarrassingly higher pitch than he wanted his voice to be.

Your eyes soften as you couldn't help the giggles that escaped your throat. Your eyes lingered on his hands over yours and you noticed the way his fingers trembled slightly but his strength in his grip never faltered. He wasn't allowing you to leave. You did have time before your next gig so, why not?

"Maybe I'll stay for a little longer."

Your heart ached when you saw Cole sigh in relief, his eyes darting everywhere but yours with dusted rose cheeks. He let go of your hands, clutching his own. "I reckon I'll take you out to the strawberry farm my buddy owns. You can't find nothin' sweeter than the fresh grown strawberries out here," He proposed, his fingers skimming over his own knuckles. He was somewhat afraid that you'd reject him. You were so sophisticated, so refined that he couldn't help but feel silly next to you, a big performer who traveled the country to entertain. You, on the other hand, almost instantly fell to your knees from his adorable invite. Strawberry farming? With this cute cowboy you just met? Hell yeah!

"Sounds like a deal, um—" You just realised, you never got his name, "Oh! It's Cole, Cole Hudson," He replied, tipping his hat at you. Jotting his name down in your mind, you glanced at the sky, and noticed that it was incredibly dark, your manager and the girls would be worried if you were nowhere to be found in an unfamiliar place, "Well, I guess it's time to let you be. Let me take you back to your place for tonight." A whistle breaks through the silence in the air as Cole called over his horse, her hooves tapped against the floor in a trot as he took your hand in his and hoisted you up onto the horse's back before hopping on himself, "Hold on, sweets," He smiled, waiting for you to wrap your arms around his waist, securing yourself to him. With a gentle nudge of his foot and the flick of the reins, he guided his horse forward.

You were a little braver this time, keeping your head up as you tried to look around you but it was practically useless now as everything was pitch-black. You wondered how Cole could navigate in such darkness, maybe it was because he travelled up this same path multiple times and knew it better than the back of his palm. As of now, you put your whole trust in him to escort you to your hotel safely.

The lights of the town in the distance inched closer as you two finally made it back. The town was eerily quiet as many people were presumably asleep at this hour — it was so different to the city. "Thanks for the ride, Cole, I really enjoyed it," You thanked him while fumbling to get off his horse; you were still getting used to it. Cole had a hand gently caressing the mahogany-coloured fur of his mare as he looked at you with those hazel eyes of his.

"See you here tomorrow?"

"Yeah, sure."

You found yourself rushing to meet up with Cole the next morning. Something in you just— felt at home with him. You met up with him, he took you on his horse, and after a few long conversations about seemingly anything that popped into your minds, you and Cole arrived to the strawberry farm. It was a surprisingly big farm with green rows of leaves with a pop of red peaking out from behind the leaves. Cole helped you put on your boots and strapped a hat to your head to shield you from the harsh sun of the countryside.

"I'll teach ya how to find the sweetest ones," Cole grinned, flicking his head to the side as he encouraged you to follow him. He trudged along the rows of strawberries with his sleeves rolled up above his elbows, showing his well-built forearms. He had given you a little basket and labelled you on 'basket duty,' but you didn't complain. You stared at his back while he proudly walked infront of you, it was now that you realised how big he was compared to you, both in height and muscle. Could you grow to his height in the future? Probably not.

You were snapped out of your trance when Cole squat down and reached a hand out to one particularly red strawberry, "Here, this is a good one," he hummed contently before plucking it off the stem before handing it to you, "Y'see, a bright red tells you its a sweet strawberry, and these green caps are also good," Cole explained. He placed the strawberry into the basket and turned back around, walking forward with peeled eyes. He wanted to find the best ones for you.

"How 'bout you try, darlin'?" Cole asked, glancing over his shoulder before reaching out his arm to encircle around your waist, drawing you closer and leading you forward. "Alright," You hesitated on agreeing but why not give it a try? You couldn't get this experience anywhere in the city. Your eyes caught on specific strawberry that fit the 'Sweet Strawberry' criteria that Cole suggested to you. Vibrant color? Check. Green cap? Check. You picked it off the stem and showed Cole for approval. He placed a hand on his chin as he looked like he was lost in analysing the strawberry. A smile plastered on his face and his dimples appeared, "You'll ain't gonna know 'till you try it."

Bringing the strawberry to your lips, you sunk your teeth into it, the refreshing sweetness meeting your tongue. Your gaze was casted off into space as you took some time to process how to describe the taste until you suddenly felt warm fingers tilt your chin up. Before you could question it, Cole leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, savouring the taste of the strawberry that was lingering on your lips. It was only a small peck before he pulled away. You swear you were just swept off your feet and— was it getting really hot or was it just you? You stood there, frozen, unsure of how to act after that kiss. That was enough to send your heart running laps.

"It's real sweet, you sure did a good job pickin' that one sweetheart."

♡

notes ,, I loved writing this so much! Thank you nonnie ♡♡ I wasn't planning on writing this much but I just had to ,, anyways! If you wanna see more Cole please request scenarios/date ideas/etc etc, also, thank you for 400+ followers ♡ my read more thing keeps breaking so don't mind if its kinda weird!

[boytearscore]

why can’t i hate you?— matt sturniolo & chris sturniolo.

summary: being best friends with chris and nick meant the world to you, it also meant you had to deal with their brother’s hate, rudeness, eye rolls, mean comments and coldness all the time. but that didn’t bother you, in fact, it was actually always a pleasure to annoy the shit out of him constantly.

warnings: swearing, enemies to lovers, best friends to lovers, love triangle (not threesome), toxic behavior, angst, comedy, possible smut and of course, strong female lead.

author’s notes: it’s a love triangle? yes, but it also has enemies to lovers and lots of nick being a sassy king, so give it a chance, yeah? anyway, for now, just releasing the first chapter and if you guys enjoy it, i’ll keep writing. that’s it, girls! have fun. :)

tag list: @sleepysturniolo (the first person to join my tag list, i’ll always be grateful to you. <3)

chapter one.

the fact that you didn’t get along with matthew was not just a rumor around his fans, it was indeed the truth. you both never talked, not even on videos you’ve participated in with him and his brothers, which are the closest people to you ever since you moved to LA, so avoiding him was impossible as all you did besides working was hangout with them.

that night, chris and nick invited you for a sleepover, since you were away for two weeks and both of them missed you a lot. it started smoothly, you guys had snacks, junk food and soda. all three just chatting and laughing, matt didn’t leave his room the whole time, which you weren’t complaining, but right after you laugh out loud about something stupid nick said, matt comes out of his room and sees you there, laying on the couch, he groans and goes back to his room, slamming the door.

“there he goes.” you roll your eyes shoving another chip in your mouth and sighing. “seriously, what’s his problem?” you ask chris and nick with a serious look, nick just gives you a small shrug as he takes a sip of his soda.

“going through puberty again at the age of 21? i dont know, dude.”

“whatever.” you murmur, not wanting to talk much about that asshole. he was so hard to read and hated you since day one with no plausible reason. so you started hating him back, simple as that, just mirroring the hatred he gave to you.

chris just shrugs as well and place a leg over yours, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer. “ignore him, he’s always like that.”

“getting touchy, are we?” you joke, laying your head on chris’s shoulders and trying to change the subject as soon as possible. he just chuckled, blushing a tiny bit. the poor boy quickly tries to hide it by covering his face with his hands and laughing.

nick rolled his eyes at his brother’s blushed face, he was used to see you both being physically close but he couldn’t keep his comments for himself. he’s always saying you’re clingy with people you loved and that chris was even worse than you.

“get a room, you two.“ he grabs his phone and starts playing a game. “and chris, you should stop. it’s getting embarrassing for you, just tell her you crush hard.”

“oh…” you smirk at the boy hugging you and poke him on the nose. “is that so?”

chris’s cheeks were now tinted with rosy pink, he was even more embarrassed because he’d rather die than face his own feelings for you. nick just started laughing loudly, still focused on his phone.

“can you guys keep it down?” you hear a yell from matthew’s room, making you stare at chris and nick, they both had the same expression as you and after two seconds trying to hold a laugh, all three of you just lost it.

“he’s going through puberty and acting like a 60 years old at the same time, like dude, just pick a struggle.” nick whispers, you guys laugh even harder and the door suddenly cracks open, matthew was poking his head out of his doorway looking at you, he seemed pretty pissed off but instead of making you feel uncomfortable, you actually had the urge to bother him more.

“hey, guys! c’mon, have some compassion, little matthew here is not used to human interactions, this is probably scary for him.” you can’t help but tease, it’s been always like this. you couldn’t hold your tongue when it comes to annoying matt, knowing damn well he hates your guts.

nick started to howl with laughter, his whole body reacted which makes him fall off the couch, he was always so dramatic. you and chris widen your eyes, but not for the same reason. what made yours almost pop out of your face was the loud noise of a door closing and heavy steps getting closer. matthew just stomped out of his room, right up to you, his eyes darkened with rage, his face all flushed from anger, and it didn’t help he decided to stand incredibly close, towering you.

okay, that was unusual. he never really engaged your mocking tone besides some comebacks which usually lead to more teasing until eventually he just starts ignoring you. but now he’s standing right there, as a matter of fact, almost inches away, this is probably your first time staring at him up close, even being able to smell his perfume.

something inside you wants to run away, you don’t know what to do with your heartbeats racing, but of course, you could never let him notice. so you stare right back at him, crossing your arms. “that’s the closest you’ve been to a girl, isn’t it?” nick place a hand over his mouth trying to hide a really loud laugh from your comment, still on the floor for some reason.

matthew’s face somehow got even redder from your comeback and chris now sits up straight, watching carefully the two of you.

“yeah, no girls would ever come near me, right?” he said it in a sarcastic tone as he leans a bit more into your face, trying to intimidate you, but it wasn’t working at all. you weren’t the type to feel threatened by men, by anyone, actually.

“unless they need a loser to friendzone.” well, that was a little mean, even for you. but to be fair, you didn’t know how to handle the new emotion of being face to face with him. it wasn’t exactly scary, but definitely a new kind of interaction, so the thoughts were sort of going all places, despite that, you stayed collected and not raised your voice once, matthew on the other hand, wasn’t even trying to hide anything, you could see a small twitch in his face and his lips trembling. he was definitely acting by impulse, which you weren’t sure of but his next move just confirmed that.

he leaned in even closer, still towering over your seated figure making you smile ironically. not so hard to read from up close, huh?

“what did you say to me?”

nick was still laughing, not being able to even breathe properly while chris just watches you and matt, getting a bit nervous. he ponders if he should interfere, things never got this far before.

“i’m not repeating myself.” because your faces were so close, you could see every little reaction, the way his blue eyes were telling you so many things at the same time, every sparkle of anger shooting fire at you, even his body language slowly changing. that made you smile even more, noticing a little part of you enjoying it way too much.

you words affected him again, it looks like he was determined to shut your mouth by invading your personal space, so he once again, leaned even closer nearly brushing the tip of his nose against yours.

“i’ve had enough of your sassy ass comments.” his warm breath hits your face, making you shiver. your arms still crossed across your chest and unbothered expression painting your face.

“then why don’t you back off and go to your room? it’s what you usually do, isn't it? run away when you don’t know what to say.”

he clenched his jaw tightly, as his hands ball up into tight fists, you could see veins starting to pop up, as he was getting more pissed. but he doesn’t back off, in fact, he starts to lean in a bit closer, the space between you two starting to shrink little by little every second.

“oh please, i’d much rather talk to you.”

nick immediately stops laughing as he gets up from the floor, almost as if he wanted to say something. chris raises an eyebrow, he was about to put a stop on that situation.

“trust me.” you smirk, he was challenging you, it was also pretty fun to see matt get so worked up over a few tease words, yet for a second, you thought about letting it go, take a step back and not make the atmosphere awkward for nick and chris. but the tension was… stirring. the idea of getting this type of reaction from him without doing much was actually weirdly good. so you allow your demons to control your actions, loosening one of your crossed arms and bringing a hand to his chin, gently turning his head slightly to the side, just enough to reach your lips to his ear.

“i know you love talking to me.” from the moment you spoke into his ear, a shiver ran down his spine making him subconsciously close his eyes, letting out a small exhale from the feeling of your breath on his ear.

nick’s eyes are wide, he can’t believe this was actually happening in front of him. chris just bite his lips trying hard to control himself. the room is quiet, matthew swallows hard, as he slowly open his eyes, looking down at you. he wanted to say something, he really did, but words failed him. his face was now really hot both from anger and fluster, the warmth of your hand holding his chin, your voice, your breath on his skin, the words you whispered into his ear, which had echoed through his mind. it was all he could focus on, nothing else mattered right now and to make things worse, this was entirely his doing, so he couldn't blame you or anyone else.

chris notices the look on his brother's face and he had to admit, it was a bit unsettling to see matthew so flustered over you.

nick was smirking, though. he knew about the tension between you two a long time ago and although it was expected that matthew would react one day, never in a million years he thought that it’d actually go like this.

everyone is still in complete silence, the only thing you could hear was the sound of matt’s shaky breath. he slowly looked over the couch, noticing that chris and nick were both watching everything, then he looked back down at you, having a sudden epiphany. he never really saw your face from that distance, deep down he thought you were pretty, but this was his first time actually being able to see the colour of your eyes properly, your nose and of course... he drift his eyes down to your lips, they were seductive and very… tempting?

a very dangerous thought crosses his mind and before he could resist, he moved closer, the small space between you both quickly closing in.

holy shit. you think to yourself, holding in your breath. was matthew really doing it? was he… about to kiss you?

for the first time ever nervousness hits you, but there’s not even a chance you would lose this match, so you don’t move an inch and stare right back at his lips, hand still placed on his chin.

“what the fuck?!”

both chris and nick finally yell, they didn’t know if they should laugh or freak out, more like nick laughing his ass off and chris freaking out, but that’s not the point, this situation was rather ridiculous, you two never set a foot close, not even greeting politely every time you hangout at their house or when they force matthew to drive you three around, as he’s the only one with a license and paying an uber was too bothersome. anyway, there was never an interaction besides bickering. but suddenly, you were both having an argument filled with sexual tension and now matthew is about to kiss you? that was too much for them to handle, for all of you to handle, actually.

matt is not listening to anyone, he ignores his brothers yelling, his eyes were only on you as he was about to do something he’s never thought about doing before. he wanted to kiss you? no. he shouldn’t. he despised you for a lot of reasons, but suddenly, in this moment, it’s almost like he couldn’t remember a single one. his eyes dart between your eyes, and lips, both getting closer by the second, just as his lips are about to brush against yours, he freezes, realizing what he’s doing. the boy takes a small step back from you, his whole face going red and this time not from anger. he glances at his brothers shocked faces and curses at himself, it felt like he lost control for the first time and he hated it.

matt never loses his cool because of your stupid teasing tone, but what is this now? you got the best of him and his first instinct is to kiss you? that was too much for him to process, so he abruptly goes back to his room and shuts his door locking it as if that was going to block the thoughts of you in his head.

“well… that was new.” you say, still confused with the whole situation that just happened, but you weren’t the only one. his brothers were speechless, they were not expecting that at all. like said before, nick did expected a reaction, but definitely not that type of reaction.

both of them had bugged eyes and their mouths partly open in shock from what they just witnessed, still staring at the ghost of matthew in front of your face. after a minute, nick finally breaks the silence.

“am i tripping or he was about to kiss you?”

he asks, mouth still open in a dramatic way.

“yep, he was definitely about to kiss her.” chris replies, his tone is quiet but he seemed a bit annoyed.

“so i wasn’t hallucinating, right?” you ask, still trying to control your heart. the sensation of his breath against your face and his perfume still all over you not helping. “did i tease him too much?” you ask them, even though it was rhetorical. “like, to the point where i broke him and he just… lost it?” nick laughs from your question, shaking his head.

“more like teased him so much he wanted to pin you against the nearest wall and—“

“nick!” you and chris yell at the same time.

“what? i’m just being honest!”

you shake your head with the thought of what nick just said, this was matthew you were talking about, the guy that hated you since day one for no reason, the one who says mean things out of nowhere and gives you dirty looks randomly. oh, let’s not forget about the day he said on a podcast he would rather die when the host asked him jokingly if he was secretly into you.

“you’re being crazy.” you finally reply, trying hard to deny whatever you are feeling and nick laughs again, then rolls his eyes a bit.

“please, i saw the look on his face when he was close to you, no one can’t deny it. the amount of time you both spend teasing each other, not to mention the childish fights ever since you two met clearly did something to his brain. i’m pretty sure he secretly got a thing for you.”

chris was quiet, he had a lot in his mind.

“yeah, it’s called hate.” you say giving the same eye roll back to nick and he just laughs again. this whole time he was just laughing, having the best day of his life.

“have you been reading those gays enemies to lovers books again?” you tilt a brow, hoping he couldn’t notice the way you were trying to drop the matter. “seriously, that’s not how it works in real life, nick.”

the boy rolls his eyes and scoffs. “pfft, you’re funny. i didn’t even know what that meant before we made those fanfic reaction videos. i would never read something like that for real.”

“you’re telling me if i go through your kindle right now i won’t find a single book about it?” you pretend to get up, smirking and nick’s eyes widen slightly as he swallows hard.

“oh, you wouldn’t dare!”

chris bursts out laughing and throws his head back, feeling better about how things went back to normal so fast, he wanted to forget the earlier event as soon as possible.

“where is it?” you actually get up now, looking around the living room and trying to hide your laugh. nick immediately stares at his kindle sitting on the table in front of the couch and he tries to grab it before you could get to it, but you were faster.

“absolutely not!” he yells, thanking his genes he was stronger and taller than you or things would about to get really embarrassing for him.

“that’s what i thought.” you say with a mocking tone, enjoying the satisfaction of watching nick panicking. chris almost in tears at this point while nick groans and sighs in annoyance, realizing he just exposed himself by acting so defensive.

he just sits back down on the couch, mumbling stuff to himself and hiding the kindle underneath his shirt. chris finally stops laughing and catches his breath meanwhile you make your way back to the couch, catching a glimpse of a portrait hanging on the wall, it was all the three of them smiling and hugging each other dearly. you stare at matthew, noticing how his smile was peaceful. you don’t even think you ever saw him smiling before, not around you, at least.

and then the flashbacks of what just happened minutes ago washes all over your head, making you bite your lips to control any further body reactions. you consider the possibility of going home and cool off. but your best friends are way too smart to be fooled by a shitty excuse, plus it’s been a while since you guys had a sleepover, so you brush the thoughts off and throw yourself on the couch again, grabbing your phone. chris and nick noticed you staring before sitting again, nick look over at the portrait, knowing you were probably thinking about their brother and chris just takes a sip of his pepsi, lost in his own world while nick debated if he should speak or not about that.

“he hasn’t always been like this, you know…” he begins talking with hesitation, he didn’t know if that was the right thing, but it’s about time for you to know the truth.

“sure.” you reply not believing him at all and he just laughed, deciding that he should tell you more.

“your sarcasm is so funny.” he says ironically and then continues talking still staring at the portrait. “believe it or not, he used to smile a lot as a kid. he actually had friends and got along with almost everyone.”

fuck. you always tried your best to change subjects everytime the conversation was about matt, and you usually succeeded but nick was pretty motivated to talk about it this time, maybe trying to help you understand his brother? honestly, if none of that has happened today, you’d probably just make stupid comments about it until nick gives up. but you were curious. the idea of a non grumpy matt was definitely interesting to say at least. you tried to imagine him smiling at other people besides his brothers, having friends and getting along everyone, it seemed unreal. but then again, you never really noticed him before. he could be a fucking clown if he wanted to, you wouldn’t know because you tried your best to avoid contact with the guy all the time.

“really?” you ask, half pretending not to be interested, half not being able to hide your shocked expression. “i thought he was born that way.” you can’t help but joke, that’s your way of coping with uncomfortable situations. “so what happened?” you ask before you could stop yourself, nick sighs and looks at you.

“i guess it started back in middle school. even though he was a quiet kid, most of our classmates liked him. but middle schoolers are fucking mean, you know? some boys would constantly make fun of him because chris and i were extroverts and he wasn’t. we tried our best to protect him, it worked for a while… but then we got to high school, some of our classes were different and one day at lunch break, we couldn’t find him anywhere, we didn’t think too much of it, assuming that he just went home earlier. that was a huge mistake because we always tell each other everything, we shouldn’t have assumed… i shouldn’t have…” he closes his eyes for a second, his voice was tremulous and your face softened, feeling empathy and a little sad. you could tell he blamed himself a lot. “but when chris and i got home, he wasn’t there. we called him multiple times through the rest of the day and by the time it was dark, our parents were about calling the police when he got home with bruises all over his face and swallowed red eyes. we asked him what happened and he just told us to drop it, not wanting to make things worse, we sort of just… let it go.” nick pauses to swallow the knot inside his throat and finally finishes the story he never told anyone about. “after that day he just shut down. he’s still the same around me and chris, but got cold towards other people.”

nick lets out a sigh, you could tell chris didn’t want to talk about it and how nick just stared at a random corner of the living room, probably thinking about matthew. for a while, you get lost in thoughts, debating if you should say something nice or try to light the mood by your typical stupid jokes. and then… you thought about matt, he definitely went through some bad things, which makes you feel guilty for all the teasing, but again, that doesn’t excuse his behaviour and how he treats other people, including you.

“i see…” you finally break the silence. “i guess he’s a bitch with a backstory, huh?”

both chris and nick burst out laughing at your joke, thanking you mentally for not making the sleepover some kind of lame sob parlour.

“he’d kill you if he heard you saying that.” nick says laughing and chris nods his head agreeing, nick continues. “he’d probably haunt you down, kill you, then bury you somewhere in our backyard and pee all over your grave.”

you three laugh loudly, making your tummies hurt.

“oh no, i think i’m done interacting with him today.” your blurt it out without thinking, nick wasn’t stupid, it only took a few seconds before he noticed the way you worded what you said, a small smirk appears on his face.

“so you’re saying you didn’t enjoy him being so close to you like that earlier?”

chris looks back and forth between you and nick, listening to every word and trying to catch any reaction of your face that indicates you actually liked it.

“i’ll ask you a better question.” you reply, trying to avoid answering it by joking around, like always. “one: why didn’t you let me go through your kindle, two: is it enemies to lovers AND smut? be honest.”

nick turns bright red, the question caught him off guard and made chris almost choke on his own soda in disbelief. nick glares back at you, his face still red as he tries to deny it, but then he groans and just gives up.

“fine, i’ll tell you! but no a single soul out of this room can hear about this, alright?” he says quietly, almost as if other people were listening. “can’t let my reputation of being an unbothered gay king be ruined.”

you sigh out of relief, it worked. nick was such a yapper that changing subjects without him noticing was really easy because he was always ready to run his mouth. chris, however, had a hint and noticed your behaviour changing ever since the incident with matt. he wanted to say something, but it wasn’t his place. in fact, he didn’t say a word after what happened. you also noticed he was weirdly quiet, but too much was in your head already.

“what reputation?” you ask to hit a nerve and laughs when he dramatically open his mouth, placing a hand to his chest.

“are you trying to say i’m not a bad bitch?”

chris just bursts out laughing, enjoying watching you tease nick and his dramatic ass reactions.

“not using this exact words, but yes.” you reply, smirk growing in the corner of your lips. the tension of your body was fading away and that made you relax a little. nick’s mouth got even more wide open, he grabs a random pillow from the couch and throws it at you.

“you take that back right now!!” chris laughs even harder at the scene unfolding in front of him, he’s enjoying it too much.

“never!” you laugh out loud, throwing the pillow back at him. “you can’t handle the truth!!!” you try to do an impression of jessup from the movie a few good men, but fails really hard because your voice couldn’t reach the low and strong tone. nick shakes his head cringing painfully and laughing at the terrible impression.

“never do that again!!!” he yells. “that was so bad, actually painful to listen to, a fucking insult to nicholson.”

“shut up.” you rolls your eyes and suddenly they feel really heavy, you can’t help but yawn making nick raise a brow.

“you tired already? you are such an old person, it’s like 10pm and you’re just dying there.”

chris nods his head, agreeing with nick’s words and laughing at your offended facial expression. he secretly wanted you to say with him a little longer. well, with nick as well, of course.

“i need my beauty sleep, bro.” you say, trying to defend yourself knowing deep inside you were in fact like an old person. “if any of you play pranks on me tonight…” you pause and try to do your best scary face. “i’ll expose your deepest secrets to the internet. especially yours, nicolas.”

nick jokingly holds his hands up in surrender, still laughing and chris follows him.

“chill, baby girl! we won’t do anything.” he always called you baby girl ironically to make you cringe on purpose, it always works.

“alright, ladies… i’m going to bed.” you yawn again and head to the guest room were you usually sleep.

nick just rolls his eyes, waving at you. “yeah, whatever. go get your beauty sleep, it’s not gonna work anyways. we’ll be here, definitely not plotting a prank to play on you.”

chris just laughs and murmur a good night to you with his usual sweet smile.

as you enter the room and close the door behind you, reality hits your face like a punch. so, you teased matthew, he teased back as usual, however he also got confrontational, like… physically, which never happened before, and then you teased him more, leading him to almost… it’s even harder to say or come to terms with it.

you throw yourself on the bed, puffing and closing your eyes. the worst part is that you didn’t know what you were feeling. excitement? anger? the need to just shut him up? compassion for what nick told you minutes ago? maybe… desire? no! that’s unlikely.

after a few minutes of fighting your thoughts, you fall asleep hugging a pillow just like you always do when feeling any sort of emotional discomfort.

nick and chris continued to sit on the couch in the living room, watching something on tv and chatting for a while, they tried to avoid the topic of you and matt because nick knew chris had a thing for you and that would just make things awkward. after a while, they started to yawn and both decided it was time to head to bed as well. nick was the first one to get up.

“don’t even think about going to the bathroom right now, it’s my time, good night.” chris nods rolling his eyes, also getting up off the couch, he wasn’t going to the bathroom anyways.

“alright, good night.” nick heads to the bathroom and chris stretches, letting out a small yawn before walking towards the guest room you were staying in, he slowly opens the door, peeking his head in to see if you were asleep. he notices you’re knocked out, holding a pillow tightly in your arms and that makes him smile, but then he notices the look on your face, he knew you for long enough to know when you’re having nightmares. chris slowly walks over, sitting on the edge of the bed, staring down at you. a small frown appears on his face as he wonders what exactly you were having nightmares about to make you look like that. he reaches his hand out carefully and gently moves a strand of hair from your face, his frown slowly going away as he looks at you. the boy gently pats your cheek, his mind conflicted, debating whether to wake you up or not. he hesitates for a moment, and then decides against it, he didn’t want to disturb your sleep. however, he doesn’t move his hand off your cheek, he just keeps his hand there, gently caressing your soft and warm skin as he continues to stare at you, wondering for a second if this is about his brother.

he notice you starting to relax a bit, the look of pain vanishing away. he can’t help but cogitate the possibility of his presence helping you relax, that makes him stay by your side a little longer, he continues to gently pat your cheek, comforting you in a way.

chris is lost in his thoughts, completely focused on you, ignoring the fact that he’s sitting way too close. he can’t take his eyes off your face, watching how peaceful you look now as he continues to pat your cheek. he subconsciously moves a bit closer.

“what the fuck are you doing?” if silent scream wasn’t a thing, matthew definitely invented it. he’s right at the door, looking intensely at his brother and trying his best not to push him away from you, that definitely scared chris, he never saw that look on his bothers’s face before, a bitter, jealous and pure hatred look.

he gets up and gulps, his cheeks were burning and he was embarrassed, not to mention the last person he he wanted talk to was right in front of him.

“she was having a bad dream, i was just trying to help by giving her some cheek pats and…” he suddenly stops talking, the fear fading away and being replaced by confusion. “why do you care?” he asks in a whisper, his eyebrows frowned and arms crossed.

matthew’s gaze remains fixed on you, and he can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy and irritation as he sees you asleep so peacefully, having no idea what just happened but imagining all sorts of things.

“why don’t you care?” matthew suddenly snaps his head back at chris, his eyes narrowing. “you were sitting there like a creep, staring at her sleeping. what were you going to do?”

“nothing!” he snaps back, he would never try to do things with anyone without consent, that’s disgusting and against every single thing he believed in. the fact that matt would actually accuse him was insulting, so he couldn’t stop himself by adding. “you’re the one to talk, she got weird the rest of the night after you left. i knew something was up so i came to check on her and she was hugging her pillow, she always do that when something is bothering her. but you don’t care, do you?”

matthew clenches his jaw, his eyes darkening as he listens to chris speak. he knew that accusing his own brother was low blow, he also knew you were indeed feeling something because it’s not the first time he caught you holding a pillow like that. he didn’t want to admit that he pays attention to your habits, or that chris was right.

“and what exactly is bothering her?” a hint of anger mixed with jealousy and concern in his voice.

chris laughs in a sarcastic tone, rolling his eyes. “i don’t know, maybe she’s bothered because you hated her from the very first moment you’ve met and suddenly you wanted to kiss her?” at this point, he decided to leave the room, not waiting to wake you up with their stupid argument. he closes the door behind him and stares at matthew. “what’s not clicking, dude?”

matt stares a chris, his jealousy and anger still there but he can’t deny that his brother was right. he knew deep down that his behavior towards you was wrong, and that him almost trying to kiss you was a terrible move.

“i don’t hate her, i just…” matt’s voice trails off, he wanted to make excuses but he knew it was pointless.

“i dont care.” chris cuts him off, finally ready to say what he wanted to say for a long time. “just stop acting like a teenager and get your shit together. if you truly hate her, leave her alone. and if for some weird reason you like her…” he pauses, before saying his lasts words. “get in line, you’re not the only one.” before matt could answer, he walks off going to his room.

the boy stands there in silence, stunned by chris’s words. he can’t deny that he felt some sort of anger when he saw chris sitting so close to you, or that the reason why the whole situation started was because he was listening to your conversation the whole time, he usually didn’t snoop around about shit you and his brothers talk when you’re over at their place. but then it got annoying when nick turned the topic towards chris having a thing for you and the thought of his brother becoming more than a friend to you made matt’s blood boil, that’s why he couldn’t stop himself from yelling at you guys to keep things down and that’s why the whole situation happened.

for unknown reasons, you were taking away all his self control little by little since day one and that was the reason he hated you the most.

because he couldn’t actually hate you.

matt watches his brother entering the room, can’t bring himself to say anything, the mixture of jealousy, anger and regret leaving him speechless until he finally mutters something to himself, clenching his fists.

“bullshit.”

[rambling-at-midnight]

omg a part 2????

i loved it so much!!!

Ahh I'm so glad you liked it!!! It's my first Jason x reader fic :) Here's a part 2!

Pros and Cons of Midnight Snacks (Part 2)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Gender Neutral Civilian!Reader

Summary: Now it’s time for a meet-ugly-ish with some dude named Jason. Also, you see the Red Hood again.

Word count: 6.3k (holy shit)

You’re not crazy, right? It’s weird that the library is completely empty because it closes in two hours and the weather is actually nice outside for once, and some random dude wanders in and sets up two seats down from you. He’s not even here to study; he pulled out a sci-fi novel as soon as he sat down.

Who comes to a GCU campus library to read recreationally? The seats are uncomfortable and plastic. And the sun is shining. Everyone else is outside soaking up the Vitamin D.

Honestly, you’re mostly surprised the chair he’s on didn’t snap as soon as he sat. The dude is huge. Football player huge. Shouldn’t he be at practice, instead of forcing the chair to make the most irritating squeaking noises known to man every time he moves an inch?

You grit your teeth and put on your headphones, but you can still hear the poor chair’s dying lamentations, so you turn on an instrumental playlist that hopefully won’t distract you too much from studying.

You let yourself stew over the annoyance until your stomach growls so loud you hear it over the soft music. He has the good grace not to look at you, but you definitely see him pause.

Okay, you’ll call it even. This is what you get for running to the library right after six hours of classes. You need to cement the knowledge in your mind while it’s still fresh, and if that means you have to forego lunch…

He’s still there two hours later when the closing time alarm goes off. It’s a shrill old-school bell, the kind no one can ignore, and he jumps like he’s never heard it in his life. The poor chair finally gives up. He tumbles to the ground.

You look over in case he needs any help, but he’s scrambling for the book, face bright red.

If he is a football player, you wouldn’t be surprised that he’s never heard the bell before. That sort rarely stays this late at the library—if they enter at all.

He rushes out. You pack up a little more methodically. All that’s left for you to look forward to tonight is trying to study in your apartment, but you never have much luck.

He’s outside the library on his phone when you walk out. Maybe waiting for a ride? You’re a little on edge from the events of two days ago, so you watch him out of the corner of your eye as you walk away.

Thankfully, he doesn’t follow you.

At least the library closes earlier on Wednesdays, 6 pm instead of 9:30. You don’t know why. It’s still a weekday. But it forces you out while the sun’s still shining, which is probably a good thing.

Within two minutes of the twenty-minute walk home, your hip hurts. By the ten-minute mark, you’re trying not to limp.

Despite your better judgment, you keep your gaze turned to the rooftops, even though you know the vigilantes are nocturnal. It’s stupid to want to see a flash of red helmet, anyway. The Red Hood probably saves hundreds of people every week; there’s no way he would remember you.

Of course, when you finally get back, there are the stairs to contend with.

Your cat, that ungrateful little beast, beeps at you furiously for being gone so long. Never mind that your roommate works nights, so at most the cat’s been alone for an hour. He makes a break for the hallway, and you box the doorway with your legs and slam the door closed against your hip as you slip through.

Your injury explodes with pain, but at least the cat doesn’t get out. Ungrateful little beast. As if he isn’t fed and loved enough.

You finish slipping through the doorway and just stand for a moment listening to the blood rushing through your ears. Damn, but that hurt.

In the bathroom mirror, you hike up the hem of your shirt and check the state of your injury.

All in all, it could have been much worse. The bullet scooped out a fair chunk of skin, but it was just a surface wound. There’s no fresh blood on the gauze, and when you change the wrappings, the skin is pink and raw but starting to scab. It scooped out a chunk and left a trail of bruising, but you got off fairly lightly, all things considered.

The GCPD released the robber’s mugshot yesterday morning. In the picture, the man’s eyes were so swollen from your pepper spray he could hardly open them.

You preferred the bullet, honestly.

You try in vain to study a bit more, but even after you take more painkillers, you’re not in the mood. You feed your cat, then curl up on the couch to watch a couple episodes of the show you’re currently in the middle of.

That was the first time you see the huge guy, but it’s certainly not the last.

You wouldn’t notice him so much if he wasn’t the size of a damn refrigerator. He’s gotta be a linebacker for the Knights, but he’s not on their roster. You looked it up after the third time he wandered into the library just a couple minutes after you. It’s probably not updated yet, but you see him so often, you’d like to know his name.

Also, he’d bleached a patch of hair right at the front of his head—was that a trend now, or something?—so it wasn’t hard to spot him.

On Saturday, your feelings shift from mild annoyance and curiosity to a sinking sort of dread when you notice him at the coffeeshop you always visit on the weekends. The employees know you by name and use it to call out your order, so now he knows it, as long as he’s paying attention.

You think he might be.

You don’t want to be that person. Not everything in the world revolves around you, obviously. But you might still be shaken from what happened on Monday, because the thought wiggles in the back of your brain: what if you have a stalker?

You try to tell yourself that it’s just paranoia. GCU isn’t that big a campus, after all, and there are only so many places in the city that are: A. close to campus, B. reasonably priced, and C. comfortable to work in. You’ve run into classmates here before, and you don’t have a monopoly on the library or this coffeeshop. Just because he shows up at the same time you do doesn’t necessarily mean anything. He might be establishing a schedule that just so happens to line up with yours.

But, you have to admit, it is easier for stalkers to stalk people when they know their regular schedule.

You keep a watchful eye out and are pretty good about keeping off the streets after dark, but a week and a half later finds you stranded an hour’s walk from your apartment. The buses worked for two days, then shut down again, and you foolishly believed that following the detour that said would get you home would actually get you home. You don’t want to call an Uber because traffic would make the ride longer than the walk and bankrupt you in the process. Same reason you can’t call anyone to pick you up unless you waited the two hours until rush hour dies down.

Walking is, unfortunately, the best option.

So you clutch your trusty pepper spray and prepare yourself for a long night of looking over your shoulder and ignoring the pain in your side. The wound has mostly closed, although the bruising has gotten worse.

Three minutes later, you hear the roar of a motorcycle followed by angry car honks. You barely pay it any mind until the motorcycle pulls up next to you and doesn't pass.

You keep walking, avoiding eye contact. Maybe ignoring them will dissuade the rider from catcalling you.

It doesn't work. "Hey," the rider says, and it's only because the voice is mechanically distorted, recognizable only because of how many videos of him that you won't admit to looking up the last week, that you look at him. "What are you doing?" asks the Red Hood.

"What are you doing?" you counter. He's blocking the flow of traffic talking to you.

The Red Hood looks over his shoulder, flips off the person honking behind him, and steers his motorcycle onto the sidewalk. He drives fast, and you flinch in case he tries to run you over, but he screeches to a halt at the last second.

"Haven't seen you in a couple of weeks," he says casually, like you two meet up often.

"I've been staying out of trouble," you say.

"Not tonight?"

"No. That wasn't my fault, though. I took the Southwest bus because it was supposed to connect with the L line, but all the signs they posted were a lie, apparently, because—" You cut yourself off. "Never mind, I'm sure you don't care. Point is, I'm walking home. It's not too far."

"It's about an hour," he points out. "How's your bullet wound? Will it object to that walk?"

"I'll be fine."

He pats the back of his motorcycle seat. "Hop on. I'll drive you."

You take a couple hasty steps back. It may not be a white van, but you know better than to follow candy into someone's vehicle. "Oh, no, thanks. Traffic's pretty bad right now."

You get the sense he's smiling when he says, "I bet I can get you back faster than walking." If only he wasn't wearing the stupid shiny helmet, you would be able to read his expressions better.

"Really, I'm okay. I'm sure you have better things to do than drive me home."

"Helping people is literally my job," is his response. "I have to make sure you get home safely. So either you get on the back of my bike, or I follow you the whole walk back to your apartment."

You know a losing battle when you see it. As a general rule of thumb, it's usually smart not to argue with the dude carrying at least two guns. "Don't kidnap me," you order before slinging your leg over the seat.

He chuckles. It's the first time you've ever heard him laugh, and it makes him sound so much younger. "You can't ride like that."

"Like what?"

He cranes his neck to look back at you. There's at least six inches between both your bodies. You clutch the sides of the seat with both your hands, hoping he doesn't take off with such a lurch that you topple off the back. "I drive fast. You'll have to hold on."

"I am holding on."

"To me."

You've only met the man twice. You're pretty sure clinging to someone's back is at least a third-meeting type of touch, but he reaches back. The Red Hood snakes a hand nearly twice the size of yours into the crook of your knee, then yanks you to him. You shoot forward with a strangled yelp and catch yourself on his back.

You've never before understood the phrase 'wall of muscle,' but you get it now.

He is huge. And strong. You gingerly put your hands on his shoulders. That's not an inappropriate touch, you think.

He has to live at the gym, right?

"You're still not holding on," he chides. "I don't have a helmet for you, so you really shouldn't fall off."

You swallow and move your hands, but he's too thick for you to link your hands around his front. So you fist both of them into his jacket. It presses your bodies tight against each other from shoulder to thighs. Through the layers his body radiates heat, but you shiver.

"Going," is all the warning you get.

Then you're gone; the bike shudders beneath you, then takes off like a jet.

You can't catch your breath. This must be what riding a dragon feels like, is your first nonsensical thought, a side effect of your roommate's obsession with Game of Thrones.

The bike roars beneath you, but you can hardly hear it over the rush of wind and the pound of blood in your ears. You can't see much with the wind drying out your eyes, so you press your head against the Red Hood's back and squint to one side. Cars and street lamps blur together into a stream of mismatched lights and colors.

The Red Hood drives fast. He weaves between lanes, runs through red lights, cuts onto the sidewalk. A couple bikers shake their fists at him when he passes them in the bike lane. A lot of cars honk at the two of you.

Judging by the way his shoulders shake with laughter, he likes pissing them off. You have to admit, the feeling is a little intoxicating.

You can't hear the sound, but your front is plastered to his back. Even with the layers of his suit and leather jacket, you can feel the vibrations of sound deep within his chest. He has a fairly deep voice, after all, unless the helmet changes that.

No less than ten minutes later, he parks abruptly. You lift your head, blinking moisture back into your eyes, and stare dumbly at your apartment building.

He'd actually brought you back.

Maybe he really was reformed.

You stumble off the bike onto unsteady legs. The Red Hood kicks his stand into place and rests against the bike, leaning with elbows on his handlebars. Like he expects a Midwest goodbye. And you find yourself dawdling.

Maybe you want one, too.

"Thanks for the ride," you finally say awkwardly.

"Anytime," he says, and you laugh, thinking it's a joke, but he doesn't. After a brief awkward pause, the Red Hood tries, "So how have you been?" as if you're old pals meeting up for brunch, and the question is so ridiculous coming from a sort-of-reformed crime lord slash serial killer that you respond without thinking.

"Pretty good, except I think I may have a stalker."

His helmet doesn't do a great job translating whatever sound he makes in response to that. It comes out as a crackle. "What?"

"I've noticed this dude recently showing up wherever I go," you say. "But I think it's just a coincidence. Sorry. That was a bad joke." It wasn't, but you don't want to accuse someone without proof of stalking you. If he's not, you'll seem self-obsessed. If he is, then he knows that you know, and it's not like the GCPD will do anything. One of your friends from your hometown had a stalker for literal years, and the police never did anything, even after he sent her death threats. They said there wasn't enough proof to make an arrest then, so someone showing up at the same places you are definitely isn't enough proof now.

The Red Hood tilts his head. "Does he make you uncomfortable?"

"You don't need to beat him up or anything on my behalf," you say. "I mean, you've seen me with a bottle of pepper spray. I'm pretty sure I can handle myself."

"I know you can," he says. You can hear the smile in his voice, like he finds something about the situation funny. "And I'm pretty sure that you know that I'm going to check this out anyway."

"No," you say, surprising yourself with your firmness. You can't rely on vigilantes to solve all your problems for you. "Seriously, it's okay. Thanks for the ride. Maybe I'll see you around."

"I'm counting on it," he calls as you walk away.

And he's right. Two days later finds you at the gas station at ten-thirty at night. You don't want to see him, per se. You're definitely not looking over your shoulder at the slightest sound. You definitely didn't check the parking lot for a notorious red motorcycle on your way in, and you certainly aren't taking peeks out the window every time headlights pass by on the street.

You're just... curious.

Maybe.

But you have absolutely no warning, not even a suspicion that someone is behind you, when you reach for a box of Cheez-Its. Someone else's hand gets there first and you nearly jump out of your socks.

"Hey," the Red Hood wheezes. He's clutching his side like he has a cramp. "Question: if I buy these for you, will you patch me up?"

"What?"

"I may have been cut," he admits. Judging by the angle of his hunch, it's a little more serious than just a 'cut'. "So: do we have a deal?"

The thought occurs to you, as you help him up five flights of stairs to your apartment, that you're escorting a strange man into your place of residence. You haven't even given your roommate a heads-up, though you're pretty sure tomorrow's his night off.

Sure enough, the only person there to greet you when you walk in is your cat. As per usual, he tries to escape. The Red Hood gently but firmly ushers him inside with his foot with such ease he must have one of his own. "It's cute," he says, still clutching his side.

"Thanks," you say. "He always tries to get out, but if he actually escapes then he just freezes in the hallway until I bring him back inside." Then you realize that you're discussing your cat, of all things, with the Red Hood. You clear your throat and say, "Let me take a look at you."

The crime lord and cat trail after you into the bathroom. It gets a little cramped because the Red Hood's about as small as a fridge is small, but you two figure out a passable system: he's too tall, even while sitting down, and you don't want to bend in half while you stitch him. So you sit on the toilet, he stands in front of you, and your cat jumps on top of his leather jacket on the counter to observe and judge. Luckily, the suture kit is still in the bathroom from when you thought you would have to stitch yourself up, so it's not long before you're instructing him to lift up the hem of his shirt so you can see the damage.

You hiss between your teeth at the sight. Someone grazed his side with a knife, by the looks of it, but the wound is deep. It might go all the way to his subcutaneous tissue.

After you clean it off, you're sure that it does. "You call this a cut?"

"I've had worse," he says gruffly.

"And you're still alive?" You squint at him.

He huffs like that's funny.

"They basically cut you in two! I don't know if I can fix this. I've never stitched someone up before!"

"What do you mean?" He tilts his head. "You stitched yourself up, remember? You told me you would."

Shit. Of all the ways to stick your foot in your mouth—

"It wasn't that bad," you say weakly.

“It looked pretty bad.”

“It just looked bad because I was wearing a light colored shirt. Don’t worry; I’ve learned my lesson.”

The Red Hood scratches under your cat’s chin. “About wearing light colored clothing, or about getting shot?”

You’re trying to thread the suture needle, but the stupid thread won’t cooperate. “Hmm?”

“Which lesson did you learn?”

“The former, mostly. Believe it or not, ‘try not to get shot’ is something most people, including me, know intuitively.”

"Let me see."

"Yeah, right," you say, "my apartment's basically a strip club, isn't it? First your shirt's coming up, then mine. Absolutely—" You slap his hand away— "Not. I'm fine. Now hold still while I stab you."

The process goes by quickly. He stands like a statue the whole time, like he's used to the pain of getting stitches. Considering his profession, he probably is.

Actually, you can see a couple healed-over scars on his torso just from the small bit of skin he's revealed by pulling up his shirt. And, you're pretty sure, a perfectly defined six-pack, but that's none of your business.

"I don't have the fancy dissolving sutures, unfortunately," you say while you tie off the thread. "These should come out in about a week."

"Yeah, I know," he grunts, letting his shirt fall back down. And you're not disappointed. At all. "Same time next week, then?"

"What?"

"To get them out."

"Uh." Your brain stalls out. You'd been operating under the assumption that this was just another freak coincidental run-in.

Is it just you, or is the Red Hood looking to make a friend out of you? Or maybe just a free pseudo-surgeon?

"Sure," you say. It's not like you can stop him, really.

"Thanks," he says, stroking your cat one more time. Then he nudges the pest off his jacket and shrugs it on, even though there's not really a need for it. The weather's been pretty mild the last week.

You walk him out the door. He pauses in the hallway, turns, and says, "By the way, what's your name?"

You tilt your head and tell it to him.

"Nice to meet you," he says. Then he walks away.

You watch him walk down the hallway until your cat escapes, and then you have to chase him. You're pretty sure the Red Hood sees it, because low-pitched laughter hits your ears as you gather the little bastard up, but when you look, the vigilante's gone.

"God, I hope he's up to date on his tetanus shot."

You find yourself at the coffee shop the next morning, determined not to let a buff bookworm change your routine. You're the first customer, and they have your order ready by the time you finish setting up your stuff on a small table in the corner of the shop, far from where the line will build up when more people trickle in.

Like clockwork, the bookworm wanders in just a couple minutes after you do, orders two coffees, and settles down across the room with his front to you.

Every time you glance up, he's utterly focused on his book. He's probably not watching you. Right?

Fifteen minutes later, the coffees untouched, he stands up. You watch out of the corner of your eye as he picks one up, approaches the counter, and...

Walks right past it.

Walks in your direction.

You stare blatantly, and he holds your gaze with a set jaw and something a little challenging in his gaze.

He's walking to you.

The coffee cup slams on the table, splashing a little over the edge, and you jump to move your laptop away from the liquid.

"Shit, sorry," the bookworm says. He runs away.

You stare until you realize he's grabbing napkins and hurrying back. At least ten, even though the spill's pretty small, and he piles them all onto the table.

His face gets redder the longer you watch without saying anything.

Once he's absolutely sure your laptop is safe from the couple drops he spilled, he balls them all into one large fist and rushes out, "I'm sorry—I was supposed to meet my brother here, but he canceled, and your drink cup's empty, so I was just wondering if you wanted this one? It's a little warm, but..."

"But free is good," you say, deciding to put him out his misery. And he certainly looks miserable rambling in front of you. Like he's mortified for some reason. "Um, thanks. What..."

"Just an iced coffee. Probably watered down."

You take a sip, just to be polite. It is watered down, but he didn't add any milk to it, so that's probably a good thing. "Thanks..." You tilt the cup to look at the name written on the side. "Jason?"

"Yep." He nods. He's still standing in front of you, like he wants to be invited to sit, but you have a lot of work to do, and he's a complete stranger, and all his stuff is still on his table across the room.

Something clatters behind the counter. You both turn in time to see the two baristas duck out of sight, whispering furiously. Probably about the spectacle you two are making.

"You go to GCU's campus library a lot, right?" Jason asks suddenly.

"Yeah, I do. So do you." You don't phrase it like a question.

"Yeah," he says. "It's peaceful to read in there. Quieter than my apartment."

"Okay," you say slowly. You're really not interested in this conversation, but you don't want to be rude.

He must understand you, though, because he rubs the back of his head and steps backwards, mumbling something about getting back to his book.

Jason's brother never does end up meeting him. You tell yourself that's why you keep glancing at him. Once or twice, you two peek at each other at the same time, and you always look away first, face hot like he's caught you doing something wrong.

The next time you go to the library, it's packed. The weather has turned, so students have nothing better to do than prepare for their finals. You head to the quiet floor, slowly losing hope that you'll find a seat.

A head snaps up the moment you walk in, dark-haired with a striking streak of white at his forehead. Jason.

Something like relief passes over his face, and he waves you over.

"I saved your seat," he whispers, dragging his bag off of the chair.

"Thanks," you say, actually touched. "You didn't have to."

He shrugs. "You're my reading buddy."

The next day, he's sitting at the library's entrance when you walk in. Jason shakes his head. "All the seats were already taken when I got here."

"Ugh." Strictly speaking, you don't need to study tonight. You're pretty confident about the next test's material, and you're also pretty burnt out.

"We could check out the Student Center?" he suggests. As if it's a given that the two of you are going to spend the afternoon together. And, you realize, after two straight weeks of studying in his proximity, you don't mind the presumption. That's how you made your closest friend in undergrad, anyway.

In fact, you think you might want to get to know Jason. Maybe ask about his white streak; you've been growing more and more curious about it. And why he's about seven feet tall and two hundred fifty pounds of muscle but has a passion for romance novels.

"I don't think I've studied in there before."

"It's not too bad, but it's a little louder than the library."

So you two head to the Student Center, but he doesn't open his book, and you open your laptop but don't turn it on. He buys you coffee, though you insist that you can pay for it yourself, and a simple query into what book he's reading currently turns into a two-hour conversation.

Jason likes to read every genre, but he likes classics and romance best. He doesn't just have one brother, he has four, and a sister. He's not on the football team like you'd assumed; he just likes to work out. He's finishing up his sophomore year of undergrad studying English Lit—he sees how your smile freezes at those words, and you're asking how old he is, and he's laughing when he tells you he took a couple gap years. He's your age, actually, and that's relieving for reasons you can't quite put to words.

When you check your watch and curse at the time—it's almost time for your cat's dinner—he asks for your number, and you put it into his phone.

You feel good on your walk home. You haven't made a new friend since the first semester of vet school; the course load is too demanding for you to participate in any GCU clubs. Your roommate asks why you're smiling and you wave him off. Of course, your cat doesn't care that you're in a good mood. He only cares about getting fed.

You see Jason a couple more times over the week, and soon you're too embarrassed to admit that you thought he was stalking you. He's almost as bad a texter as you are, responding at such hours you're half-convinced he doesn't sleep, so you're less self-conscious about taking hours to respond.

You've just gotten around to answering his last text when something knocks against your window.

You drop the phone on your face.

The Red Hood is laughing at you when you open the window to let him in. You'd forgotten he was coming, but you don't say so. He tumbles in, moving a little stiffly, but a lot better than he'd been last week. Your cat, the little traitor, runs to greet him and rubs against his ankles, purring like an engine. The Red Hood bends to pet him. "Hey, kitty." The red helmet tips up and those unnerving white lenses fix on you. "Hey, doc. Here to get my stitches out."

"How have you been feeling?" you ask.

"Good," he says, almost defensively.

It makes you suspect that something is wrong, but when you all pile into the bathroom again like it's a clown car and he pulls up his shirt, the wound is healing nicely. No pink or heat that signals infection, no puffy skin. You remove the stitches quickly, and again he hesitates, like he wants to stay longer.

You find yourself thinking about Jason. You're pretty sure you wish he was here.

"Well, thanks."

"Anytime."

He pauses. "Really?"

You shrug. "I mean, not if you need a hospital. Then I'd expect you to head straight to a hospital. But stuff like this—no worse than this, ideally—I guess I can help you with."

"You're pretty cool for a vet," the Red Hood says. "The last one I visited kept freaking out on me for stealing codeine."

"Well, that's a restricted—wait, you were stealing codeine? What for?"

He shrugs.

"What were you using it for," you repeat sternly.

"Okay!" he says loudly. "Well, thanks for patching me up, doc. I'll see you later, yeah?"

"Wait," you call out uselessly, but he vaults out the window. You gasp and rush to the sill, but there's no Red Hood-shaped puddle on the ground. Instead, his rapidly shrinking form disappears in the distance, swinging between the buildings that make up the Gotham skyline.

You don't see the Red Hood for a while after that, but you hear whispers of him wearing a new costume. You get caught up with finals and Jason, who asks you out after the semester ends.

Your vehement 'yes' takes you by surprise. Him, too, judging by his wide eyes and wider smile. You wonder why he asked if he thought you would say no. You wonder why you didn't realize earlier how desperately you wanted him to.

Now that you're out of school, you pick up shifts at the vet clinic. By some unhappy circumstance, they can only schedule you for the evening shifts. Jason works nights, too, and you've never fully squirreled out where he works, but at least you can spend some days together.

It's when you're walking back from your first shift that you see the Red Hood again after almost three weeks of radio silence. He pulls up next to you on the motorcycle. It's so late that there's no one on the road, so he stays on the asphalt and idles along at your walking pace until you break and say, "Long time no see, Hood."

"Did you miss me?" he teases.

You stop walking, because.

Most of his costume changed. Because it's summer, and even the nights are hot and muggy, you assume.

The pants are the same. So are the boots. But his jacket is red and sleeveless and has a hood that goes down to his eyebrows, the armor beneath short-sleeved, which means most of his arms are bare.

And...

Your mouth is dry. You swallow.

You're pretty sure not even Batman is that ripped. He looks like he's chiseled out of marble.

The longer you're speechless, the more amused he gets. You don't know how you know that, but something about his posture seems smug.

"You're taking 'red hood' seriously now, are you?" is all you manage to say. Because what else are you supposed to comment on? His bare forearms? His veins are so beautifully pronounced, they would be a dream to take blood from, but you have a boyfriend of a whole one and a half weeks, and you may be many things, but you're not a cheater.

He laughs, then pulls his hood low when it slips back a bit. His voice is still modulated, although it's not through a red helmet anymore. This is more like a muzzle. You can't tell if the eye covering is part of it, or like the domino masks that Batman and Robin wear, but the lenses are red now instead of white.

He's really leaning into the theme.

"You want a ride?"

"We're two blocks from my apartment."

He shrugs. "I'm heading there anyway."

What the hell. You've already hopped on the back of his bike before. It's easier to do so the second time. You wrap your arms around his torso again, and when his arms settle over your own, they're warm with his body heat, but not hard, even though the muscles look sharp enough to cut glass. He's firm all over, but his skin is soft, apart from the raised, bumpy scars that seem to cover him from head-to-toe. It makes you worry about him, just a little.

He doesn't drive fast this time. He drives slow enough to hold a conversation and tosses over his shoulder, "So what's new with you?"

"Not much," you say into his ear. Is it just you, or does he shiver? "I finished another semester of vet school."

"Top grades, I'm sure. Did you get extra credit for patching me up?"

"I wish." No, your grades are good, but not exceptional. But exceptional is what got you into vet school. As long as you graduate with a DVM, even if you're the lowest in your class, you're a licensed doctor. There's some relief in that. "The dude I thought was stalking me asked me out, actually."

"Really?" he asks, interested and alert. "Was he really stalking you? Do you need me to scare him off for you?"

"No," you say, smiling at the thought of the Red Hood trying to scare off Jason. They're about the same build, now that you think about it, which you're sure the vigilante isn't used to. And Jason's never been anything but gentle and polite, but you saw an undercurrent of something strong, something like titanium, under that gentle spirit the one time he stood up for one of the baristas at the coffee shop that you first spoke to each other. He hadn't needed to do much apart from stand up and glare at the beleaguered corporate guy angry that there wasn't enough sugar in his coffee, and the dude shut up and scurried out as fast as he could.

It was probably the hottest thing you've ever seen him do, except for that one time you pushed your laptop a little too close to the edge of your desk while studying, it tipped over, and he caught it one-handed without looking up from his book. What can you say? Saving you a couple hundred dollars in getting that fixed was hot.

"It was a misunderstanding," you say. "We just ended up in the same places at the same times."

A gust of wind pushes back the Red Hood's hood, exposing a head of thick, dark hair, the same shade of black as Jason's. The motorcycle swerves in his haste to pull his hood back up, and when you reach your apartment and hop off the bike, he's pushing his hair back, back, beneath the hood.

What's the point of ditching the helmet if he's just going to be fussing with the hood all the time?

"What's new with you?" you ask, scuffing your toe against the sidewalk. Your shoes are falling apart; the sole is peeling away.

"Same old, same old," he says. His voice sounds rougher, but that might just be the new modulator.

"How's your side?"

"How's yours?" he counters. "You still haven't let me see it. I bet it scarred because you were too stubborn to take my advice and patch it up."

You will never admit that he's right. You challenge, "Let's compare scars, then," knowing full well his armor dips below his pants. It's a little silly to picture the Red Hood wearing an armored one-piece, but that's all you can imagine.

He clucks his tongue and shakes his head. It dislodges the hood. A patch of hair falls down to his forehead, and it's white.

But the back of his hair is black.

White and black—

Your stomach flips.

"I thought you had a boyfriend, honey. Why're you asking me to strip?"

So that's what all the teasing's been about. He hasn't been flirting—or he has, his own weird version of flirting, because he's a dumbass.

For a moment all you can hear is the rush of blood in your ears, then you flex your fingers to regain feeling in them. You roll your eyes and say, "I think we've established that my apartment is basically a strip club. Why don't you come up and show me, Jason?"

"Well, I'm flattered, but—what?" He splutters like he's choking on his own tongue. Serves him right. "I'm not—why do you think that—I mean, I could be anyone—"

Yeah, he can have his little crisis on the street. You tug on your own fringe, then swipe into the building.

You hear his muffled cursing as the door closes.

You look forward to him catching up.

(My requests are open, so let me know if you want me to write anything in particular! Also let me know if you want to be added to a taglist.)

Forever tag list:

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes @queenmissfit @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @iksey @thehyperactiveteen @luxmoonlight @andreasworlsboring101

[artist-issues]

every now and then I play with the exercise of "what if we're wrong" because sometimes I get bored and also as an actual exercise. I usually apply this to Christianity/religion, matters of the after life, or about other people.

So sometimes I poke at the big question, if Christianity isn't real, what does that mean? And I don't usually go the route of atheism or bad sci fi, just that the religion is proven to be fundamentally inaccurate to reality, so what does that mean?

Anyway it wasn't until I was reading a really good sci fi story, where this one dude explains to some aliens the concept of "Love your enemies, do good to those that hurt you" and of course the aliens are like what? (Because in the sci fi narrative the universe is functioning under a Dark Forest Theory) And the dude explains its from one of earth's greatest teachers. And the aliens are like, if the inhabitants of the universe could believe that, this universe would be a different place entirely.

And it was at that point where I realized bro... even if it's not accurate, practicing Christianity is still worth it, for a human being. Loving your enemies means loving them like humans. The Poor, the Meek, and those who mourn, those are promises and comforts that we shouldn't toss aside even if heaven isn't real.

I don't know, this is just a terribly simplistic because I'm not the best at putting my English thoughts into english out loud, but that crack gave me a touch of useful coping. I asked my dad, if aliens are proven to exist it doesn't automatically mean christians stop practicing and believing, right? And he said obviously not.

I don't know but have you ever engaged in such a question " what if we're wrong?" And if you ever have what answer had you arrived at?

EDIT: As @atwas-meme-ing correctly pointed out in the comments section of this post, who cares whether or not I’ve played this game: God answered the question through Paul in his letter to the Corinthians: “If in Christ we have hope in this life only, we are of all people most to be pitied.” 1 Corinthians 5:19.

There’s no “good moral teaching” to be found in Christianity if Christ wasn’t God, or if God didn’t exist, or if eternity weren’t real. My rambling logic is below the cut.

I mean, I play that “game” all the time about other things, and sometimes I do it for work. I’ll take two established characters and a setting me and my friends have agreed on, and I’ll “run a scenario.”

But the thing is, once my brain picks out something that doesn’t make sense, or that wouldn’t be in-character for the characters to do, the whole scenario grinds to a halt and I have to start over. I can’t suspend my own disbelief once I notice that something doesn’t line up. Even if I really liked “where the scene was going” before I noticed that thing. Whatever I’m getting stuck on because of it’s out-of-character nature unravels the parts I like, too.

All that to say I can’t even run a scenario in my head where “what if all this isn’t true? What if it fundamentally doesn’t line up with reality?”

I can’t. Once or twice I have tried. But I hit snags immediately. I’ll go, “pretend all of this Christian religion really is just a centuries-old conspiracy humanity’s been patching up the holes in.”

But then that little simulation-checker in my brain goes, “then how do you explain people dying for it? That many martyrs aren’t likely to have allowed themselves to be tortured and murdered for something they knew was a conspiracy.”

And I go, “well, pretend they died because they didn’t know it was a conspiracy, they believed it.”

And the sim-checker goes, “but the original disciples of Jesus, ground-zero of the faith, were all martyred. Not just people who learned from them and came after them and could’ve been hoodwinked: the starting points, themselves. They would’ve had to know it was a conspiracy, if it was a conspiracy, and they still willingly died for it.”

Maybe I’ll pivot and go, “pretend there isn’t objective truth.”

And the sim-checker goes, “there isn’t truth…objectively?”

Maybe I’ll pivot again and try, “pretend that everyone really does just measure morality based on what they’re used to, what their individual society’s trained them to associate with pleasant feelings and reactions.”

And the sim-checker goes, “Okay, where did those societies get the training manual? Where did it come from? Why do so many different societies’ and people groups’ ‘association with pleasant feelings and reactions’ around the world have so many things in common?”

And the answers to all that leads me back to Christianity. Even if I go the longest way round I can think of.

And eventually I quit running those scenarios. Because guess what?

Where’d the ability to run scenarios come from?

How did I get that? How did you?

See, the thing is, we go, “what if all of this isn’t true?” But it’s right there in the question. “Where did you get that desire? The desire for “truth?”” Is it to keep yourself safe, like the natural animals have an instinct toward, or is it to keep yourself sane, because you need some sense in this life to make it through? Sure. Maybe. But why? What’s “sane?” What’s “safe?” Sanity presupposes order. Why do you, and all humans, naturally lean toward wanting things to be “the way they’re supposed to be?” Where’d that come from, that idea of “supposed to be?” And Safety presupposes good being found in avoiding pain and damage and fear. “Good?” Where’d you get that idea?”

The further you dig, even into your own psyche, the less you can run any scenario that has God absent entirely. And no wonder. He designed it.

One more thing.

“I am trying here to prevent anyone saying the really foolish thing that people often say about Him: I’m ready to accept Jesus as a great moral teacher, but I don’t accept his claim to be God. That is the one thing we must not say. A man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic — on the level with the man who says he is a poached egg — or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice. Either this man was, and is, the Son of God, or else a madman or something worse. You can shut him up for a fool, you can spit at him and kill him as a demon or you can fall at his feet and call him Lord and God, but let us not come with any patronizing nonsense about his being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us. He did not intend to.” - C.S. Lewis

I used to lean into the idea you’re saying here. “Even if it’s not true, I’m going to live like it is and believe it just in case. Besides, it makes me better, and makes the world better.” That’s not belief at all. That’s ends-justify-the-means thinking. The teachings that Jesus gave which “make the world a better place” are utterly worthless if they’re coming out of the mouth of a liar. Because why should anyone believe Him? Why should anyone “turn the other cheek,” or “do unto others?” Because it makes us “better?” Who gets to define “better?”

The answer, of course, is Jesus does. The One who taught those sayings. But only if He’s God. Only if He was telling the truth. If He wasn’t God, what right has He, to tell us to give away our possessions to others and let them abuse us and give our lives up? If He was a liar, all of those “good teachings” would be tainted and untrustworthy. Besides, like I just said, they’re all only able to be called “good” teachings if you accept that there is one objective, universal “good.” And we’re right back to “where did Good come from?”

All roads lead back there, to Him. But we humans like to do this thing with God where we pretend there could be any reality outside of Him. It sort of makes sense, how we got that way. After all, when was the last time you noticed oxygen? How often during the day do you consciously inhale and exhale? As often as it happens automatically? How often during the day do you notice oxygen touching your skin or moving your hair or drying your eyeballs? As often as those things happen automatically? No. But it’s ever-present. Without it, you couldn’t live, let alone notice anything. But oxygen has always been around and everything in our lives interacts with or can only exist WITH it. God is much more than that, but that’s as close as I can get to communicating: He’s so good, and He’s so constantly there, everything, all the time, that it’s easy for us to take Him for granted, forget Him entirely, then use our two-pound brain matter to say, “He might not exist.” You might as well say, “imagine a world with no matter.” 🙄 “Ohhhh kay. Then it wouldn’t be a world.”

[luna-loveboop]

It's all "links meet aus" and "zeldas meet aus", but where's my "companions meet aus"?

I wanna see midna bash fi and navis heads together for annoying her

I mean can you imagine the sheer chaos of all the Zelda companions meeting and going on a journey together? They're all companions/guides! One of thems a talking hat for hylias sake how are they supposed to take initiative?

I think it'd be like Lu where they all just meet up, but can you imagine the chain just somehow finds out this happened (and twilight is just like guys I am so sorry about midna) (but they're also really oddly touched that all their friends met each other too)

Pretty sure midna would be the sort of leader, since the last time she was in a foreign world she just found the nearest dude and started ordering him around. By like halfway through twilight princess she was literally asking LINK to accompany her to get what she needed.

But like. 90% of the group would be fairies. Which can't heal. One is a talking hat who just needs a head? He can't go on midnas cause she throws him off with her magic hair, poor ezlo is just trying to keep up.

They also have these weird green shadows who come around? They don't talk, but there's a rock, a fish, a bird, and a lady who just appear and stab things and shoot wind water fire and lightning.

Also midnas really confused why wolf link just shows up and kills things every now and then (from botw amibo)

Fi is the one who can talk to Hylia and awaken memories and get guidance and information or whatever, but she only does this by ballerina dancing and the others are always pissed at her anyways "WE DONT KNOW WHAT BATTERIES ARE OR A WII REMOTE WILL YOU PLEASE GO BACK IN SWORD FORM ALREADY" "I detect there is a 90% chance you need a key to open this door" "wow. Your perception is unparalleled fi."

Also there's a boat. A boat. Who is also good at taking charging since he's a king, which causes some friction between him and midna, since she has to grab him by her hair to move him half the time.

And with the fairies. Again. They all offer advice mainly. And with the fairies a lot of their main role is speaking and getting attention and pitching in? They come on an intersection and there's a chorus of bells all shouting the same directions. Ezlo is trying to cover the kings ears from his place on the boats head

Also there's this ghost/spirit of Zelda that everyone just feels REALLY strong loyalty to. But she's just like this kid who wants her body back?! They try to protect her but she can turn into a purple knight and stab things so there's that. I think there's also some animal companions from ooa/oos so.

Side quests are nonexistent they don't care about a village or gathering frogs for a kid they are there to save the world on a mission linear plot it is

And it's interesting because you have so many of them who just vanish and then appear to give loud advice. All at once. And the fighting skills basically fall to those weird green shadows that shoot various elements and fight and randomly disappear. Midna and spirit Zelda can fight, and Fi can too (kind of like how she fights as a sword in hyrule warriors). Also up to you if midna is drop dead gorgeous or devilish imp.

By the end they find whatever enemy so they can go back and midna is so pissed by this point that she hears the word "batteries" from Fi and goes full on fused shadow and just obliterates the jerk

***I have not played all the games so do not know or understand all of the companions and probably got some stuff wrong

Bonus: there is a child in a village named Link who does not have the spirit of the hero. He is stalked for three days until Fi decides his vibes are off and they all stop telling him he's the chosen one

[decentishoutsidersthoughts]

I’ve been at a family gathering all day so here are some hcs for a Curtis family gathering

Darry

As the eldest grandchild he was somewhat treated like an adult even before his parents died. But it balanced out by the fact that the entire family worshipped him just for existing. He’s his grandma’s favorite and she makes it VERY obvious.

After his parents died he completely stopped being seen as one of the kids/grandkids. He started helping at the grill and chatting with the other adults. It wasn’t the worst thing over because he was outgrowing a lot of the kids anyways, but it was still SO disorienting for him the first couple times. 

Every so often he’ll say something and the whole family will be forced to remember he’s still barely an adult. And then they’ll have to ponder that for a moment and it kinda kills the mood

One time he was offered a beer and reminded everyone he was underage. That one fucked with them for a while.

All the kids beg Darry to pick them up, carry them around, all that stuff. And he definitely does it every time. They get so pissed when he says he’s tired and stops. Like demon screeching ‘NO’

The big thing Darry doesn’t like about the gatherings is that everyone is trying SO hard to avoid mention anything about the Curtis parent’s deaths. To the point that it’s painfully obvious and very uncomfortable for Darry.

There’s this one asshole uncle and one time he started insulting Soda’s intelligence in front of Darry (Soda was outside) and the two almost fought. The uncle got kicked out after that

He makes an absolutely amazing burger (he learned from his dad)

Sodapop

The poor boy isn’t really anyone’s favorite. They all like him but don’t take as much pride in him as his brothers, he’s really overlooked.

The exception to this is uncle on his dad’s side, he sees himself a lot in Soda and dotes on him. They’re super close and the uncle always slips him five dollars to buy himself something nice

The younger kids definitely absolutely adore them. He loves just roughhousing with them and chasing them around the yard. Most of them call him their favorite cousin and it goes straight to his ego.

One of the kids hurts inevitably themselves and cries every time. Soda always will bundle them into his arms and clean them up before he can get in trouble lol. Most of the time only Ponyboy finds out and my boy isn’t a snitch. 

One of the kids just goes home with a big scrape and their parents are like ‘where did this come from-‘ but nobody has put two and two together yet

At the first gathering after their parents died he broke down sobbing halfway through. Darry found him crying in their moms old bedroom. They went home after that and it turns out they all had wanted to leave.

For extra spice, the reason he started crying is because a lot of those kids weren’t old enough to understand the concept of death and kept asking him where their aunt and uncle were

Him and Ponyboy will have heavy gossip sessions in their room once they get home. Darry knows about them and will sometimes join if the tea is really hot.

Ponyboy

He’s their pride and joy. He’s so insanely spoiled and gets basically whatever he wants. Once it became clear college wasn’t happening for Darry everybody was all over him.

Being a fourteen year old he does NOT enjoy these gatherings. He usually just either sits in the corner with a book or hangs out with the only other cousin his age.

He sometimes likes watching Soda play with the kids because of how happy he looks. However he himself avoids those kids at all costs.

Back to the gossip sessions, Ponyboy ends up with so much knowledge because everyone assumes he isn’t listening or forgets he’s there. This dude knows everything.

He finds their doting so annoying and is like ‘leave me alone’ (he grows out of this ofc, 14 year olds just kinda suck lol)

When he gets older he joins the adults a lot, still not a fan of the kids

[lunatic-pudge]

Postal Dude SFW and NSFW Headcanons

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I love Postal Dude. He reminds me a lot of Sniper, so that might not help. These can apply to basically any version of Dude you want, but I tend to use PD2 as the default Dude. Those some things would probably be different for PD1.

So yeah, I got stuff that I need to finish working on. I'm halfway done with this one TF2 ask I got. So Imma try to finish that up ASAP.

And warning for sexual stuff and mentions of violence, but considering that this is Postal, the violence part shouldn't be too much of a bother

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SFW

-Oh boy oh boy, where do I even begin with my baby boy Dude. Postal was something I always had a slight intrest in but now it hit me full force so here we are. Plus he's got some similarities to Sniper as well so it doesn't help either. I can't control myself anymore. I need this man pregnant and i need it NOW!

-But anyways, Imma start throwing some stuff out there. This poor babe has been through it. He's been through Hell and back, literally.  He's gotten better over the years, but there are times where things feel like they're getting worse again. He's gotten better with dealing with it. Though, he's not the best when comforting his partner if they're struggling mentally. He tries his best, but he's just so unsure of what to do. He's good at sitting with you, having an arm wrapped around you as you hold onto him, venting your problems out. It's easy for him to be a listening ear. Any advice from him is probably not good advice. If there's something you want, he'll get it for you. A blanket? Done. Some ice cream? Okay, what flavor. It's the little things

-If you wanna be with this mess of a man, you gotta be semi comfortable with the violence. He's gonna be coming home almost every night covered in blood, acting like he didn't just kill someone over a doughnut. And you gotta be comfortable with his massive collection of weapons. He'll teach you how to use them so you can protect yourself if he isn't around.

-Which leads me to the fact that he WILL kill for you. Whether it'd be to protect you, to prove that he loves you, or even out of jealousy. He can be convinced to not kill someone but it does take some persuasion. He just wants to keep you safe, and he trusts no one but you, especially since the people of Paradise are rather "interesting". Though, he might just wait for you to be out of sight to kill the person you wanted spared... Oops...

-His love language is acts of services and physical touch. Homie won't be able to keep his hands off you. Sexual or not, he NEEDS to feel you. It makes him feel sane to know you're there and real. And if you need help with something, he's there to help you with it. He'd love it if you'd go on errands with him. It'd make things less boring AND it means more time to spend with you

-Also, to be with this man means Champ needs to approve of you first. Champ is his baby, so if Champ doesn't like you then clearly you aren't worth his time. But if Champ approves of you and you love and spoil him, then you might just be marriage material

-He's such a goofball. He'll be constantly teasing you. Not a day goes by where he isn't lovingly tormenting you over something dumb. He does it cause he loves you. He means no harm with it and will let off it if asked. Don't let him know about any sensitive or ticklish spots of yours cause he WILL be using those spots against you

-Very big on being able to laze around with you and doing nothing. Laying together on the bed or couch, alcohol and snacks readily available, and music playing in the background. He's a bully in a sense where he would want his music playing, claiming to have good taste in music. So hopefully, you like the same music as him. So stuff like Tool, Nine Inch Nails, KMFDM, etc. (Though in my own little world, I could see him crying over Mitski, plz don't judge)

-If you're a crafty person and you make something for him, he could cry from how happy it makes him. He loves seeing you work your stuff. Doesn't matter what it is (drawing, painting, sewing, crocheting,  etc.) he likes watching. It's calming to him. He'd def cry if you made anything Champ related. If you draw or paint, youre art is getting hung up on the walls. If you sew, knit, or crochet and you make him or Champ something to wear, then they'll be wearing what you made them proudly. Though he won't wear said stuff outside cause he doesn't wanna dirty them. He'd feel bad for ruing all your hard work

-Have I mentioned how spoiled he is yet? Cause he is. He's a very needy baby. Constantly wanting your time, attention, and affection. Almost never giving you a second of privacy cause he needs to be in your personal bubble. Oh, you locked the bathroom door so you could enjoy a bath in peace for once? Too bad, cause Dude's already picked the lock and hanging out with you. And if you don't stop him, he'll join you in the tub, with or without clothes on. He's essentially a cat that will scratch at the door til you let him in. If you're at work or he's running errands, he'll be texting you nonstop. Keeping you updated on the chaos he's causing and spamming you with Champ pics.

-He also has an abundance of photos of you. Some of just you doing whatever (yes even sleeping), you and Champ, you and Dude, and even all three of you together. You may not even know all of the photos he has of you. And yes, he will show you off, proud he has such a baddie and no one else does. But you also need to know that he isn't scared to take some of the worst photos of you. We're talk 0.5x forehead photos that make it look like you got a big ass forehead. He doesn't care. He loves everything about you and nothing will change that.

-Love seeing you wear his clothes. He thinks it's so cute how big his shirts look on you, the smaller you are, the better. He's very encouraging of you wearing his clothes. Sometimes, it gets him a little too excited, especially when you don't wear any pants, may God help you when that happens...

NSFW

-Loves biting you, once he starts he can't stop. He will have you marked up from head to toe by the time he's done with you. He would like it if you did the same to him. He'll ecourage you to leave some extra marks on him and especially his more sensitive areas. Same rules apply for scratching as well. He loves seeing the all the bites, bruises, and scratches you leave on him. And he feels such pride when he sees them on you

-He's the perfect person to have a hand kink for. He's got them long, spidery fingers that can leave goosebumps along your skin. He'd gladly shove his fingers down your throat if you want. His hands do tend to be littered with cuts and burns but don't think that will stop anything. The extra pain adds to the experience for him

-Yeha, he's kind of a masochist. There's just something about the way you inflict pain on him that gets him going. You could come up behind him and bite him and that's all you need to do for him to get the message. He will let you WRECK him however you want

-Does like degraded by only a little bit. He wants to be called a slut and to be told how vile he is for wanting to be used like a toy. But sometimes he has limits. He does need praises though. He could go on for hours praising you, and he would like to be able to be praised as well. He'd rather be praised than degraded. Especially during aftercare. Tell him how much of a good boy he is and how well he did. He'll love you forever if you do

-Is it wrong to say that I can see him having a Mommy kink? This might be from hearing the one line of his but there's just something about him that screams "let me call you Mommy plz". halp

-I've been making him sound like such a total sub but he can be dominant if you want. He tends to be more on the rough side when he doms though so do be prepared for it. He'd love to have you tied up and blindfolded, helpless as to what he's gonna do next. Loves making you beg

-peghimpeghimpeghimpeghimpeghim, do it. Nothing's stopping you. You'll get some of the best noises out of him if you peg him. He's is such a dirty little slut. Peg him and make him beg!

[lizandbo]

Izuku and katsuki crushing on you hcs

katsuki

lawd have fuckin mercy💀🖐

Ohhh boy

Mans is in pure denial at first 

Like oh maybe it’s for how admirable y/n is and that’s why I get so giddy whenever I see them lmao katsuki wishes

POOR BABY DOESNT KNOW WHAT TO DO BUT LIKE… WONT GO TO ANYONE???

like he perks up so fast when he hears your name 

Or like whenever you said something you like or interested in something he tries to think about what he could do in that category of your interests

Bro I totally think he’s gonna be fucked up tho like…

After a while he comes to the conclusion he may PERHAPS semi really likes your everything about you ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

He’d get so mad at himself for acting like a ‘creepo’ even tho 99.9 of the human population has dealt with thinking and dreaming about a crush

In the worst places too

Maybe while in the shower too many times but we might not need to know that🤡

But like when y’all become friends and actually get to know each other he MIGHT ask you out

BUT BUT I HAVE A FEELING HE WOULDNT WANT TO

It’s like too embarrassing yk? And he also wants cherish the friendship he has with you:(

Sometimes he acts like an asshat but his acts of service makes up for it <3

Speaking of acts of service he would totally do shit without you even knowing 

Like putting tape/sticky note writing your name on your leftovers in the fridge so it won’t get eaten 

Making your favorite meal

Leaving your laundry folded on your bed while your out doing something

He’s petty enough to not put it in your wardrobe but alrighty

Feel like his bro Kirishima has to be his support dude yk

Always checking up on you through Kirishima 

This mans ego…. Dude idek if it can get any bigger when you talk literally anything about him

But man does he get pissy af when you talk remotely anything negative bout em

He’d have this smug look kinda like at the music festival or some shit 

like dis bad boi right here

BUT HES SO CUTE WHEN YOU CATCH HIM STARING AT YOU

which isn’t often but broooo he gets so red 

Like a damn strawberry

Or a skinned squirrel 

Who knows

Izuku

oh mah gah he’s so bad with crushes😫

Like he’s not even trying to crush on you

It just so happens to be crushing on you so hard that izuku might shit his pants whenever he sees you

He just a flustered little baby that’s all

Izuku just wants to kiss you but loses his shit whenever you go near him in a five feet radius 

Everyone knows he has a crush on you

Like it’s so fucking obvious 

Can’t hide his feelings for shit

Bros kinda a stalker ngl 

But in a good way yk

He talks to allmight about it to see if he could help 

Tries to point him in the right direction but he’s also a single as a Pringle so he don’t really know what he’s doing lol

He’s like those cheesy parents when having a ‘crush’ conversation

Later on izuku just kinda goes his own way 

He takes down notes about you

Sometimes there are really really weird shit he notices

Just the random gestures, reactions and habits makes you wonder how in the actual hell did he learn this information??

One of the seven world wonders 

Izuku himself is a world wonder💀

Anyways, he tries to accommodate your unspoken desires by small gestures 

Like warming up a towel in the dryer right before you get out of the shower

Gets gift cards for your favorite places

Hands you a water if you don’t already have a drink 

He’s just a thoughtful stalker /hj

Izuku doesn’t realize how personal his actions can be or how he mentions something that you do

He snitched on himself one too many times

It kinda made you suspect he had some feelings towards you 

And when you questioned it bro went flying

You may never see him again

[lxmelle]

Headcannon alert!

In the night parade of a hundred demons, Gojo was fighting with Miguel, the strongest from his continent:

Can I also just add that the animation is fiiiiinnneeee 👌🏼 AF - gets my heart going and I knew I recognised the fight scene movements - it was from Ip Man. 💘

Oh be still my heart.

Anyway, sorry, back on topic!

We know Gojo has done the following:

(Image unashamedly stole from reddit)

Which leads me to surmise that he probably really really hates the idea of anything messing with his skills/technique, and possibly affecting his impenetrable defences - limitless.

This circles back to isolating himself and how this comes round to backfire on the poor man.

It goes to show how a significant event, like losing to Toji, how it is internalised and processed, greatly affects people, whether they categorise or recognise it as trauma or not. Combined with Geto defecting, it’s understandable how Gojo effectively seals himself in a coffin of sorts. They both dealt with it in differing ways, but end up sacrificing a part of themselves in the process.

Back to Miguel.

Gojo is irritated. He is MAD.

He just blasts away the giant curse without bothering about anything. He just focuses on Miguel. If I’m not mistaken, we rarely see him like this. Sparring, having a strong opponent has been... fun for him? Either that, or he goes into extreme dominance mode. Engaging with multiple targets.

There source of his irritation that even ichiji comments something? It goes without saying that the whole issue with Geto sparking war would be getting to him, too. Especially considering the build up and entire situation where forces are all at two locations and Geto is scheming something he had just become aware of.

AND. This is satosugu indulgent: He’s possibly annoyed that Geto had this strong dude by his side all this while, whom he confided in, to provide INTEL AGAINST HIM, no less!

Making light of a really dark situation here, and I’m sorry (not really) but a jealous Gojo tickles me. Did that also make him a bit irritated? That Geto had specifically found someone to target him? Did he feel insulted that he was replaced by someone else - weaker, no less?

Yes, we are now entering pure headcanon indulgence. In my SatoSugu head, Gojo is irritated that Miguel could’ve been sparring with Geto. This man is buff and strong, and has been around Geto for an unknown duration of time. We know Geto likes sparring and he is goooood at it. Did geto change? Can he still trust Geto not to kill any of the young sorcerers? (Yes, Yuta included. Because we can see Geto was battling within himself about following through, and doing so would mean a loss of his humanity in favour of strength - something not really in his nature - he nevertheless tries and we know how it ends when someone in the verse strays from themselves...).

I digress. Gojo probably also wanted to just go see Geto already, but dreading it at the same time. They both were under no illusions about how it was going to end, hence the sombre nature of the anime.

This scene always hurts when I see it… Side note: I did always feel like Gojo in jjk 0 (manga-only) was a little cold and to aloof compared to when Gege’s well into the series. I wonder what Gege would change if he rewrote/redrew it? Not that he will, ofc.

Whatever it was, I’m just going to allow myself a small pleasure in that maybe the idea of Geto and Miguel in an alliance ruffled his feathers a little. And then Miguel lets slip that “if I die I’ll curse you, Geto” - and I’m left wondering about the significance of that, if anything, whether it provided context to Gojo or the reader.

And in the aftermath of it all, Gojo recognised Miguel’s strength, utilising him for Yuta’s growth (so in a way Geto and Gojo train him?!? [yes I am hopelessly deep in satosugu shipping]) and I guess it was a link to Geto too. Gojo seemed to have no harsh feelings towards Miguel. Entrusting him with Yuta... and maybe also regarded him as someone who was important to his friend (Geto)...

They became his family, after all.

In light of the most recent leaked chapter - I hope Miguel makes it - and that we also get blessed with some crumbs in the form of flashbacks... it would be nice to see a bit more backstory.

[triviallytrue]

Watching something as iconic as NGE is kinda funny because every now and then something happens and you're like "oh! that guy! from tumblr!"

General thoughts:

Poor Shinji. Dude keeps getting put in situations.

The Ender's Game comparison keeps coming up for me - child soldiers utterly essential to the cause. The big difference is that they are just completely flubbing their psychological management in NGE - in Ender's Game they had eyes on the kids 24/7 and maintained in-depth psychological profiles on all of them, whereas in NGE they have loads of money and manpower focused on maintaining the EVAs but their equally-essential pilots are just... going to school. Shinji got punched and they didn't know!

And what is Misato's deal, anyway? She's in her 20s and has a crazy amount of authority (she just requisitioned all of Japan's power) and they're just kinda... letting her manage Shinji? It's not her job, but she's just doing it? She's his commanding officer but also his mom/sister, which is a really bad combo. Also I don't think I'm imagining the grooming undertones, those seem intentional.

The real motivator for someone like Shinji is (of course) his social connections - the two schoolkids and Rei, and then maybe to some degree Misato, and then even more distantly his father. Kids don't put themselves through severe distress just for the abstract concept of "saving the world," especially a world that has thus far been very unkind to them. To bring back the Ender's Game comparison, this feels like a very deliberate point that Graff and friends were aware of (the way they used Valentine as a strategic resource) but in NGE it seems to be mostly happenstance that Shinji made some human connections before completely shutting down.

Rei thus far is an interesting foil to Shinji. Normally I get kind of put off by scenes like the one where he walks in on her, but it gives you a lot of important information about both of them. Shinji, underneath all the abandonment issues and repression, is still a pretty normal kid - awkward, horny in that embarrassing adolescent way, deeply self-conscious. Rei is alien (or perhaps just very autistic). She just doesn't clock 90% of the tension at all. She pilots the EVA without complaint (though perhaps with equal psychological distress, just heavily repressed). She also gets along very well with his shitass dad, which is revealing in its own way.

I'm told there is another child, a red haired one, named Asuka(?), the thus-far only implied Second Child. Wonder why she isn't here yet?

I heard that it was some kind of twist that the EVAs were alive in some sense, but doesn't that naturally follow from the first couple episodes? Unit 01 moves to save Rei without a pilot and then goes berserk to kill the angel. Maybe there's more to the twist that I don't know yet.

What's up with the angels? Why are they here, what do they want, what are they exactly? Who cares. They are a plot device in purest form - they enable the rest of the show, but the show is not meaningfully "about" them. They didn't half-ass it though - the designs are absolutely phenomenal.

Oh, and there's some second project NERV is working on, a human transformation thing that got mentioned once and never again. That will probably be important eventually.

[bomberqueen17]

cellulitis adventures

So on Friday I was cleaning in the barn, hosing rotting meat out of a floor drain. I tripped over the hose, and fell on the hand holding the hose sprayer, in a pile of moldy rat shit I'd tried to clean earlier but hadn't done a great job on. The hose sprayer scraped my thumb, opening up a little cut and tearing the skin, which was annoying and hurt a lot.

Naturally I was like, listen I need to clean this really well, so I did. But I was busy, so I washed it really well and then didn't bandage it, because I had a lot more grubby shit to work on and a bandage would just get soggy. I cleaned it again when I was done, but still forgot to bandage it. it was not a serious cut, it was more of a scrape, and it hadn't really bled much, it was mostly just sort of scabbed over. Not a big deal.

Drove home to Buffalo on Saturday, and noticed it was a little sore, maybe a bit puffy. Ah, not great. I cleaned it again, put neosporin on it this time. Went to bed. In the morning I reapplied antibiotic gel and put a band-aid on it, and went off to work, off to Dude's aunt's house where his mother is clearing it out. (Aunt had to go into a long-term-care apartment downstate near her daughter, after a stroke left her with poor working memory, and nobody's happy about this but the house needs to be gone through and her sister is the one to do it. And we are the ones to help her; her children live a few hundred to a thousand miles away, and wouldn't know what to do with the things in Latvian anyway.)

Anyway. Finished with that, took a nap, ran some errands. My thumb was a bit achy under that band-aid, but I was busy. It wasn't until I was making dinner and noticed a red line on my wrist that I realized I ought to give this more attention.

I finished making dinner, sat down, took off my watch to look at the red line a bit better. Now, I have really pale skin, and it shows red marks from everything; I expected it was red from steam from the cooking. But no, the line curved and went unaltered under where the band of my watch had been, and out the other side. It was under my skin, not the surface of it.

So I took a picture of it and sent it to an online buddy who is a nurse, who said immediately to go to urgent care, not to wait and see if it cleared up overnight because it was not going to. And now that I've come out the other side of this with some antibiotics, I thought I would write a little post and tell y'all what to worry about, because it was no big deal in my case but if I had waited it might well have been. So behind the cut will be a very non-gory photograph, which possibly will look more dramatic than it would on your skin because I have so little pigment in mine. But mine was a very clear textbook case, so I figure it's a good example. Again though, no gore, so I do encourage you to look even if you're squeamish, because it's really good to get an idea in your mind about danger.

For the record, urgent care turned me away so I went to the ER and while I waited a long time, the staff, rushed off their feet and far too busy, was still kind and reassured me I had done exactly the correct thing in coming in. This is the kind of thing it's trivial to fix up with a routine course of oral antibiotics if you catch it, but if it goes too long it can get into all kinds of bodily systems and become very difficult to safely eradicate, and can cause lasting, even permanent complications.

So I thought, for other dumbasses like me who would ignore a throbbing cut, here is a little PSA about Shit To Definitely Not Ignore, and thanks times several million to my online nurse buddy who told me so.

Behind the cut, a photo that does not include the actual injury or any gore or disfigurement, but very clearly shows the telltale sign, which is redness from inflammation from the infection traveling through the lymphatic system, and is like, a prime time danger sign and if you see this seek care and do not delay. I haven't been able to find good pictures of what this looks like on darker skin, alas, but here it is on me.

[Image description: the right forearm and hand of a pale-skinned person, lying on the edge of a table with the fingers loosely closed, thumb upward. The thumb goes off the top of the frame, and a bandage is just visible circling it. A red line wavers from the side of the thumb down along the back of the heel of the hand, curves down along the inner edge of the wrist, and then curves down to the underside of the arm. Several blue veins are also dimly visible through the skin, not following quite the same path as the red line, which is wider and blurrier than they are. The red line is quite blurry and hard to see in some places, clearer and more distinct in others, and in one place clearly but briefly splits to follow two channels before reuniting into one. There's also a faint dent visible in the skin at the side of the wrist, where the buckle of a watch was; the red line is not otherwise interrupted by where the skin had been covered by the watch.]

Again, the injury itself was a little gnarly but not anything I would have sought treatment for on its own; it was a bit sore to bend my thumb, it was getting a bit red and swollen but I had it under a bandage and wasn't monitoring it. The red streak was what made me look, and it's good I did. For the record, i don't know if this is typical, but pressing down at the point right on the side of my wrist where that red streak was widest was tender, like pressing a bruise, and isn't this morning; that was what really convinced me this was something from the inside and not a weird mark left by touching something from the outside. I don't know if that would be universal, and it wasn't tender along the whole length of it, but right there it's going over bone so I could really feel it. It's not raised at all, not a rash, it felt like bruising deep under the skin but if you pull your finger across it didn't fade or change color or have any kind of texture to it at all. This morning it's not tender anymore either, though the injury itself is a bit more painful than it was.

They gave me a dose of antibiotics last night around 10pm, and the streaking has faded, but the injury itself is more angry and swollen and is affecting my grip strength with that hand. I plan to follow the course of antibiotics, of course, and am grateful for modern medicine, which makes this mostly just an amusing anecdote. Who knew scraping your hand in a barn full of rat shit was dangerous! (Well, I did.)

Anyway-- off to see about filling this prescription. I gotta take it four times a day but like, y'know, I can handle that in exchange for not having sepsis, LOL.

[lil-quinnie]

I know who i want to take me home.

Modern!Rockstar!Eddie x f!bestfriend

part II

warnings: 18+

4k

Summary: That time where Eddie stood up for you and you never left his side again,

You've known Eddie since your 4th grade, when some girls were making fun of you for your dress or something stupid like that. Kids could be mean, that Eddie knew.

He'd been teased ever since he arrived in Hawkins a few years ago. When word got around that the kid's shaved hair was because he had head lice or was arrested, he vowed he'd never take that kind of shit in silence again, and so he did.

Eddie already considered himself the savior of the broken, the beats and the damaged.

From the day he threatened to throw mud on the girls' perfectly pressed clothes, you were never apart, ending that summer afternoon with him pushing you on the swing and you sharing ice cream while Eddie talked about how cool it was to live in a park trailer "There are always kids there to play with, you should go meet more friends" Eddie said in his childish squeal.

You were together when Eddie's father got out of prison and disappeared into the world "he better stay away anyway" Eddie had told you with his eyes on the ground, as he walked you back to your house kicking some rocks by the way. It was the first time you held his hand, giving it some squishes every now and then, you could see Eddie’s dimples every time his eyes landed on your holding hands.

You were together when you got your first guitar, realizing that music wasn't really one of your talents but was certainly one of Eddie's, giving your beloved guitar to your best friend, who trained every day and looked forward every Friday before Hellfire to show you some new music he had taught himself, and it wasn't long before he started showing you the songs he wrote.

“Ok…they are really good men, don’t get me wrong, but you are so in love with her that your song got a little…emotional??” Gareth had told the boy after hearing a new composition, rhythm and lyrics! Eddie froze at his friend's words, as if he had said the most secret words in the world "Dude, relax! It's just a song" he shrugged feigning a normalcy that clearly didn't exist, "yeah, sure...just a song" Gareth was smirking, his tone determined to get under the poor metalhead's skin.Eddie looked at the with no reaction, as if he had been caught doing something illegal, and among all the excuses he came up with at that moment, he said the lyrics weren't all about you, he swore to Gareth. “It’s about Chrissy, you know, the blond unreachable cheerleader who goes to our school?, ring any bell? butthead”. Gareth just rolled his eyes and nodded.

You were together when Eddie decided to grow his hair big! And you always supported him, even when his hair didn't look good at all. "You can wear my bandana if you want, it's very metal" you said and shrugged, handing the bandana to a pre-teen Eddie. You didn't want to admit that those little curls that fell across the boy's face did something to the inside of your stomach, which started to feel tight and hot whenever he was around. You couldn't take the feeling in your chest anymore every time your fingers passed through the boy’s hair, blowing a few strands out of his face whenever he played the guitar or tried unsuccessfully to roll a joint, the feeling was so much so that you decided to give him your bandana, explaining how it would help keep the hair out of his face. Eddie just nodded and listened carefully to everything you said. 

As soon as he dropped you off at home and you said your goodbyes, instead of lighting a cigarette and walking to the trailer like he did every other day, he preferred to take the walk holding the bandana tightly inside his jacket pocket as if it were the most precious treasure.

Eddie opened his front door in a hurry and as soon as he heard the lock click, he brought the bandana up to his nose, feeling the heady peach scent of your shampoo.

Eddie spent the rest of the night looking at himself in the mirror, trying to fix his headband in the most "metal" way possible, but he swore to Wayne it wasn't to impress you.

Now, a few years later, you were still there when they first called him a freak, you couldn't quite tell what was going through your best friend's mind.

Eddie was loud, he never stayed quiet when they made mean comments even less when it was one made by an idiot jock. But nothing came out of your best friend's half-open mouth. Eddie knew he had different tastes than most, pop music didn't suit his ear, he could play any kind of games if he wanted, with balls or not, but sports were only for Sunday afternoons when Wayne was off and they could spend some time together, but freak?! “Does she see me like that too?” Eddie's head was sinking into a spiral of shame and fear and you grew agonized by not being able to do anything, in a weak act he looked towards the back of the classroom, looking for you. 

You never forgot the look he gave you that day, the sad smile printed on his face, making your face burn with anger "Shut your mouth Jason, do n't you have to kiss your teammates ass or something?" you answered back in the middle of class, making everyone laugh. You got a pass straight to detention and a relieved whispered "thank you" from Eddie.

That was your relationship with Eddie, and even after all these years, nothing has changed! well, almost nothing. Eddie kept swearing and playing his undying love for Chrissy in every new song he played to you, always creating imaginary situations and acting out how he would play for her if he had the chance. Despite the bitter taste of jealousy running down your tongue, there's nowhere else in the world you'd rather be.

Sitting on Eddie's bed while he played a few chords and made some silly rhymes to get you a laugh, as the sun went down and you shared a well-rolled joint by Hawkins' newest drug dealer. At that point, you and Eddie were more than friends and the comfortable “family” feeling took over your relationship, even if something always seemed out of place. 

You followed all the corroded coffin shows and saw Eddie flirting with every type of groupie possible, which made you wonder if he had ever thought of you that way.

God! The kid didn't have a specific type, even with the male bartenders at Hideout you'd see him flirt, he flirted with literally anything but you.The boys gathered more and more people to watch their shows, the Hideout got smaller and smaller for their talent and charisma and you couldn't be more proud of your boy's accomplishments. But, "with great talent comes great responsibility", or whatever other nerdy shit you thought Eddie would tell you. That is, if he was on your side in the middle of the crowd of sweaty bodies that swayed in sync with his electric guitar chords. Still, no matter how pretty, nice, hot or smooth-talking the person Eddie was flirting with was, at the end of the night it was you he always took home, in the second-hand van Wayne got Eddie for his 17th birthday .

“Hey trouble” Eddie hugged you from behind as you got you both beer, you could feel his skin still wet with sweat and the smell of his cheap cologne invaded your nose “EDS” you hugged him tight still jumping with excitement “My god, you…you all did so well today, fuck it was amazing I'm so proud of you I mean the whole band, here” you handed over the bottle of beer and took a sip from yours to avoid saying something that would leave you still more like a fool. "Yeah, it was kind of good right?!"

Eddie was smiling proudly and scratching his head awkwardly as he saw your big bright eyes looking at him the way you were, he toasted you before just taking a sip of his beer "Come on, I'll get you home before it gets too late ” he said, putting his arms around your shoulders and walking with you to the exit. The drive to the parking lot was short and you couldn't answer all the good-byes people gave Eddie and Eddie's girl, you.

It was your first and very last senior year of high school, and finally Eddie was free from hell high school, you miss him there though.

You got your college acceptance letter, your family was in an uproar, lots of hugs and laughter but your heart was so tight, and you didn't know why. You could barely sleep at night thinking about what life would be like in another city, far from your family, your friends and him. You tried to disguise the dark circles under your eyes with a little makeup, thinking that drugstore concealer would hide all the dark aura that enveloped you that morning, but you should have known better.

You went downstairs as soon as you heard the noisy van turn off the engine, instead of waiting for Eddie to come in and have the daily cup of coffee with your mother and complain about your morning attitude, you took the snacks lovingly prepared by your mother, one for each of you and ran out the door, pulling Eddie along the way and dragging him back to the van “I'm late, no coffee today Munson”, you said in a dry tone, making the newly awakened boy just nod “yes ma'am ” he said getting behind the wheel.

The driveway was quiet and safe and you were comfortable until Eddie started peppering you with questions, you were overwhelmed and told your best friend about your leaving in a few weeks in the worst possible way. He didn't take it very well. "Are you going to leave me here, alone in this shithole?" your teary eyes irritated Eddie more than brought him to reality, it was your choice to leave for college, wasn't it?

The morning ended with you slamming the van door as hard as you could and Eddie skipping school and heading to the abandoned bank in the middle of the woods behind the football field. That day you chose to walk home alone rather than answer your friend who, even not entering the school, was waiting for you outside.Days passed and nothing from your best friend showed up, answered your calls or stopped running through the school corridors trying to avoid you like the plague. "He needs space now" was what Nancy repeated to you every time that happened. 

The week dragged on without the presence of your best friend. Now on Friday, Nancy and Robin were trying to convince you to go to your last high school party. “Come on baby girl, it's your last high school party! Fuck Eddie if he's such a sucker for not wanting to enjoy every second he has with you” Robin said in a rather mean attempt at convincing you, “not to mention he'll probably be there, parties are always good for…business” Nancy added knowing that this argument would definitely make you go to this party, you needed to see that the metalhead was fine without you, even if it destroyed his soul.

"Fuck it, fuck him! I'm going to that stupid party!" You said in a sigh, Robin threw her arms up as if thanking heaven for your sudden change of decision, and Nancy just chuckled to herself, knowing the real reason for the change. 

You made a point of putting on your nicest black dress, which hugged all of your curves that until now you've never felt the need to show off, a pair of combat boots, and whatever jacket Nancy made you pack just in case.

It was so hot, you didn't know if it was the amount of people dancing to the same rhythm inside Steve's living room or if it was just the cheap beer you weren't used to drinking, pushing the slimy liquid down your throat. You searched the entire party for Eddie with no luck, stopping in the kitchen only to talk to Steve who would pull you out of the crowd making fun of your bothered face. At parties like this you usually stayed outside with Eddie while he went about his business, but the sight of your best friend hitting on a cheerleader forced you to make SUCH a sacrifice as drinking such a horrible warm bear. Of course Eddie had seen you, he saw you as soon as you got out of Nancy's car, walking into Steve's house arm in arm with Robin laughing at some weird thing the blonde had said, of course he noticed the flush in your cheeks and as your eyes wandered over the people passing by, his heart ached to realize that he was the one you were looking for, but he remained professional and ended the transaction with the cheerleader who was so drunk that she didn't show her usual disgust at touching on Eddie, on the contrary, she insisted on keeping her hands on him with every word that came out of her mouth.

It was too much for you, you thought, even though you didn't understand where that sore feeling had come from. Staggering through the halls, you managed to find fresh air and took refuge on the pool deck, the muffled music made your thoughts dance around Eddie, you downed the already warm beer in one go throwing the can across the yard of the Harrington mansion, catching the attention of the school's bad boy, Billy, who was finishing rolling a joint still talking to his drug dealer, Eddie. 

"Isn't this your little friend, Munson?" Billy asked, both watching you drunken antics, “yeah, yeah it's her'' Eddie didn't let on that your friendship was at a low point in no time, but Billy was always good at reading between the lines “She's fucking hot, now I get it because you hid her behind that shit you like” he said with a smirk on his face, “you wanted her all to yourself, freak?” Billy laughed as he grabbed another bottle of beer and walked towards you, leaving Eddie alone with the cheerleader who accompanied the entire interaction glued to the boy's arm.

Even from afar, doing "business" with Billy and the popular crowd, Eddie wouldn't take his eye off you, following your every move with lost puppy eyes, Eddie's sad eyes accompanied your dress getting up on your thighs more and more, Billy's hands finding your soft skin, stroking and squeezing as you shared the joint. Eddie's big brown eyes burned as he watched the whole scene like a masochist, and it didn't go unnoticed. "she's just my best friend" he replied for the 1,000th time to a drunken cheerleader who tried to get the boy out of his temper that night. She twisted the end of Eddie's hair between her fingers, closing any distance he put between them.

Eddie saw when Billy approached you, he saw when you laughed at some really bad joke making the blond boy stick out his chest in pride, he saw his hands on your thighs and just when he thought his heart couldn't take it anymore, Billy kissed you. Billy tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear like Eddie had dreamed of doing for years, he caressed your rosy cheeks from alcohol and you gave that shy smile that was usually kept just for him, just for Eddie.

"I can make you forget about her'' said the cheerleader next to Eddie's ear, in a not at all drunken tone anymore,”wait…what?” He said while she was pulling Eddie by the hand to one of the Harringtons' empty rooms. Climbing the stairs with the girl, the last thing Eddie saw before entering the room was you walking hand in hand with Billy out of the pool's deck. He didn't know what was going on with him, in all of his high school time, he wanted nothing more than to be locked up with a cheerleader in a dark room, but now he doesn't feel it's the right choice for him.

Eddie was practically thrown into the room and before he said anything, the girl was already on top of him, her lips tasted like cherry and some drink he couldn't recognize. He wanted to be enjoying it as much as the girl who attacked his neck fervently, but he wasn't. He walked to the window lighting up a cigarette and looking out to the parking cars until he saw you and Billy share more kisses, Eddie doesn't feel like being in that party anymore.

The cheerleader still hadn't given up on taking a piece of the boy. hands roaming his pale body until they found the belt buckle, while she unbuttoned it, Eddie watched you through the window. The girl's hands found Eddie's almost erect member, making her mouth water at the size, even though he wasn't 100% hard for her, Eddie was big. The not-so-drunk girl knelt down in front of him, pulling down his boxers until his dick was showing. She didn't wait to put Eddie inside her mouth, moaning as she felt the taste of him taking over her tongue, "you're so big Eddie” she said before going back bobbing her head, sucking every part of the boy's already hard cock. He surrendered to the cheerleader, letting his head fall back as she devoured him, his hand went to the back of the girl's head, forcing her more and more against his cock "I want to see you touch yourself while sucking me, pretty girl” he said through the weak moans, and so did she. Eddie admired for a while the scene he had imagined for years, a cheerleader on her knees for him with her mouth full of his cock, his hips began to push on her mouth in sloppy movements, she moaned loudly while abusing her own clits. 

Everything was going well, until Eddie heard her laugh outside.

He watched as Billy's hands traveled to your hips than to the fat of your ass, squeezing and pressing his body against yours, you could feel Billy's hard cock rubbing against your waist, causing you to pull away at the same moment.

Billy's lips on your neck as he pressed you against the car, your face in discomfort, you tried to get rid of the boy's grip without success, pushing and trying to create any kind of space between your body and his, that was enough for Eddie. He pulled the girl who was sucking his dick up, who didn't understand anything, just looked at him with hate!

 From the other side Eddie wasn't sure how to get out of this situation so he just said “I'm sorry doll, if it was another time … i'm so sorry” he said pulling up his pants and running down the stairs with his belt still open, straight to your rescue!

Eddie ran outside the house screaming your name, afraid that Billy had already done something to hurt you, Eddie knew how Billy treated his girls, hell! Everyone knew of Billy's fame and yet, he let the situation get to this level.

Seeing you still trying to get out of the blonde's arms "you're hurting me Billy, let go of me!" You said in a voice choked with fear, Eddie's vision went black and his body moved without any direct order from the boy's brain, it was as if he had blacked out for a few moments. When he came back to reality, you were alone leaning against the car and Billy lying on the ground with blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. “Let’s go” Eddie grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the party as fast as he could make you walk, escorted by Billy’s menacing screams “Run away Freak, that’s what you’re good at!” or “you can keep that little slut, when you get tired of using her, my turn will come”. Eddie thanked every entity that you were so in shock you couldn't hear the blonde's insults. He helped you into the van and put his jacket around your shoulders “are you ok trouble?” he asked as he put the belt around your body “I missed you” was what came out of your mouth, Eddie chuckled and shook his head in denial “unbelievable” he thought, closing the van door and taking you to the security of your home. It didn't really matter how many people Eddie flirted with or got involved with, at the end of the night, it would always be you he was going to take home, both of you knew that.

The next morning, a big glass of water, some headache pills and a sleeping metalhead were the first things you saw when you opened your eyes, before your head started hurting like a bitch. You took the pill and gently woke your best friend “here, before you get a headache”, Eddie thought it was cute that you thought he needed the same minimum amount of alcohol as you to get sick, but how could he say no if you were standing there in front of him, looking so pretty and trying to take care of him? “Thanks, my head it’s killing me.” He said, taking the pill. Eddie could see Billy's finger prints on his biceps, making his stomach roll in anticipation.

Leading him to bed and closing the curtains, making almost nothing in the room visible. 

You laid your aching body next to your best friend, the familiar smell of weed and cigarettes made you feel at home, Eddie feeling your body relax pulled you close to him, finally laying spoon with you, after all those years laying together, this was the first he spooning you and the feeling was so warm and comfortable…

"I'm sorry trouble" "shh eddie, it's too early for this" turning over in bed, coming face to face with your best friend, you could feel Eddie's uneven breathing on your cheeks. You buried your face in your best friend's chest, closing your eyes as he pressed you against his body "I love you eddie" you whispered almost inaudibly, not for him.

Eddie paid attention to every word that came out of his mouth and this time was no different. The difference came in how the heat rose through his body, he could hear his heart beating so hard against his ribcage that he was afraid to wake you up. He didn't go back to sleep that morning, nor did he move until you woke up. He also didn't say he heard you or that he loved you too, he just lay there enjoying every second he had before you left.

-

Now, 5 years later, many corroded coffin tours and phone conversations, here was Eddie again, where all his paths always led, you. Eddie got a few days off before the new tour started, in 5 years the band did great, opening shows for bands that Eddie dreamed of one day watching the show from the front row, but at that time, he opened the show for his favorite bands. They were destined for success, he was and you always knew it. Now with an audience of their own, Corroded Coffin were one of the most prestigious metal bands in the scene, traveling on extensive tours around the world and always returning to the warmth of their embrace.

"Did you really like it Eddie? I mean, it's no palace but" you shrugged, holding the contract in both hands as the late afternoon light streamed in through the apartment's large windows.

Eddie had never seen you look so beautiful, he thought ."I love it" he said with that crooked smile that has affected you since... forever,

"it suits you dear and it's close to the school where you work, I mean, having the best of both worlds, right?" you bit your bottom lip trying to contain the happiness. The contract was duly signed and delivered to the real estate agent on the same day. The apartment was perfect, just a little chilly at night, "my feet are cold" you texted Eddie every night before you fell asleep, the lack of your response didn't make Eddie mad or worried, he knew you just passed out in the warm of your bed with furry socks trying to keep your feet warm. The mental image Eddie created in his head of you in your hibernating state made him smile every time.

In the middle of winter Eddie came to visit you, with a big box in his hands, you could see that the man was exhausted from all the shows an shit. You never imagined that he would visit you! Your plush pajamas and your fluffy socks say so...for Eddie, your prettier version.

Sitting on the couch, Eddie opened the box and took out a black kitten "It's Sir Bartlomeow" he said with a trembling voice trying to contain his laughter "Since I'm going to be away all winter, this little guy here” bart meowed in response, as if agreeing with the man's statement, making you both laugh “will be the new one in charge of keeping the helpless damsel's feet warmed" you chuckled and thanked him for the unusual gift, instantly falling in love with the kitten and more and more with your best friend.

Two weeks, it had been two weeks since Eddie had gone on his European tour, texting between shows and the countless parties a rockstar needed to attend. Eddie loved the star life, the craziness of the roads and the crowds of people screaming his name, waiting for him, but nights like this, all he could do was miss you. "Hey trouble, I hope you’re ok, is Sir Bart treating you well? I hope so…, I miss you, you know... I can't wait to watch shrek 2 with my favorite person, I have to go , see you in two weeks...yeah?!, bye sweetheart" said the message that lit up your cell phone screen as you laughed at your kitty vet's unfunny jokes, making your heart hurt a little.

It was the first Friday since he'd been away and the usual movie night with his girlfriends turned into a conversation about his frustrated love life.

"I know Nance, I should have replied to Eddie's damn text but what was I going to say?" you said to Nancy over a glass of your favorite rose wine "I miss you too, in fact I miss you every time you haven't been around me since... forever" you downed the glass in agony as Nancy laughed along with Robin. "I mean" Robin began, causing you to roll your eyes in displeasure. "It’s  Eddie!, Rockstar or not, he's been in love with you since high school, come on!" earning an elbow from Nancy "ouch babe" Robin whispered.

"It's not like he's not in the arms of some super model right now" your tone was low as you took in every detail of that magazine cover, throwing it on the coffee table allowing the girls to see the gigantic picture of YOUR best friend almost swallowing the face of a very beautiful woman. "But what about the vet, he seemed nice" Nancy offered with an empathetic smile on her lips.Turning the cover of the magazine over, you shrugged “yeah, maybe I'll accept his invitation to dinner, who knows?”.

A/N: Thank you so much @squidscottjeans for all the patience and tips &lt;3

[ladykailitha]

Just more Steddie content because MY. BRAIN. WON’T. SHUT. UP. ABOUT. THEM!!!!

Senior Prom (Steve’s), Eddie’s hanging out by bleachers taking names for Hop who come up and ask to buy something other then weed (cough cough date rape drugs cough) (also also you can’t tell me that Hop doesn’t know who Reefer Rick and Eddie are considering season one Hop).

He hears someone wailing. Like out right sobs. Eddie being the bleeding heart he is has to investigate. He finds prom king Steve Harrington in his tux, just horrifically crying his eyes out.

So he goes over and asks what’s wrong. Steve tells him because why not everyone’s going to find out on Monday anyway. Apparently three basketball players hired a guy to honey trap Steve at prom and took pictures of the guy kissing Steve. Steve didn’t consent to either, but in the pictures it really doesn’t show that.

And he tells Eddie that if his dad finds out, he’s pretty sure he’s going to follow through on his threat to 12 year old Steve (who had been rough housing a little too ‘close’ for Mr Harrington’s ‘comfort’) where he got down his elephant gun and told Steve that if he ever saw him kissing a boy, he would empty both barrels straight into Steve’s face.

So poor Steve is just completely freaking out. But that’s not even the worst part of this whole shit show as far as Eddie is concerned (though the death threat is pretty bad). No, Steve is bisexual and that was his first kiss with a boy. Completely destroying Steve ever trying out that part of his sexuality ever. Because he’ll always wonder at the back of his head if it’s not a trap.

Eddie is livid. And vows revenge for Steve. He gets Steve to give him the names of the three other players and takes Steve home and gets his number. He’ll call Steve when he has word on the pictures.

The ringleader comes to Eddie the next day looking for a little ‘enhancement’. And Eddie pulls out a little leather notebook about the size of a deck of cards and begins to flip through it. Apparently ringleader dude has been buying these drugs the day before big games. And Eddie tells him he has two hours to bring the pictures and all the negatives or the cops and the board of student athletes will get copies of the pages that Eddie has in his little book.

The dude blows up and says that he’ll make sure no one buys from Eddie ever again if he tries it. Eddie reminds him that of the two of them who are they going to believe a drug addicted teen who just outed his drug dealer and cut off the supplies for the entire area for who knows how long until Rick got a new dealer he can trust, or the drug dealer who outed ONE basketball player who is clearly out of his mind?

They set up a place to meet for the pictures. The kid shows up with the camera they used. He hadn’t had time to get the pictures developed yet. Eddie pops open the back of the camera and just starts yanking on the film. Making sure to expose the film to as much light as possible. The kid is screaming about the other pictures on the camera. Eddie hands back the camera with a single ‘oops!’ He then tells him to call off the other two boys as well, because he as dirt on them too. And if they want to leave this town in anything other in handcuffs in the back of a police car, they’ll keep their head down and their mouths shut until after they graduate. (And if Hop gets them on graduation day anyway Eddie isn’t there for them to point fingers at, he didn’t graduate again, though he might be watching from the bleachers, hidden from view to laugh at them but who’s to say for sure).

He calls Steve up and tells him that pictures will never see the light of day and he’s safe. And if Steve takes Eddie out to dinner as a thank you, that’s their business. And if Eddie shows him that he can trust that Eddie would never hurt him that way, that’s no one’s business either. And if Steve and Eddie move in together after coming out to his parents, well that’ no one’s business but the cops and Mr Harrington when they take him away in handcuffs for threatening to murder his son.

[kitthepurplepotato]

Chapter 15 - The first fight

Summary: Kirishima goes over to Katsuki’s to see how’s Y/N doing. He sees… uhm… things.

Y/N and Katsuki slowly move in together but they can’t stop fighting about Y/N’s hero work so Mr. Third Wheel Kirishima decides to kick some sense into the two.

Warnings: Swear words, mentions of doing the cheeky, but no details or anything! 5 seconds of angst. 😂

First Chapter Master List

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Kirishima didn’t mean to pry.

He just wanted to see how Y/N’s appointment went, that’s all.

Why didn’t he knock, you ask? He has a spare key, duh. Why would he, anyway? Katsuki is his best bro, he doesn’t need to knock on Katsuki’s door.

Well… he absolutely hates himself right now for even coming over.

Why, you ask?

Oh well, you have a shit load of questions, don’t you?!

Just let him finish his fucking story, goddamnit!

So Eijirou went in with his spare key. He went in and sat down on the sofa with his laptop; it was paperwork day so he could absolutely wait around for the two to come back from their appointment and Katsuki’s sofa is really comfortable so at least his back won’t be aching tomorrow from all the crouching. He was full on focused on his work when the two fumbled in through the door; he was about to say hi and ask how it went when his best bro threw the poor girl into the wall and shoved his tongue right into her mouth, right in front of Kirishima’s face. He wasn’t sure if he was turned on by that or rather disgusted, probably something between the two. He prayed for the gods that they don’t decide to do more right by the entrance, but the gods did not listen to Kirishima’s pleads; he tried not to look, he tried, he swears, but he couldn’t miss the way Katsuki looked at Y/N with eyes dark like … the forest? The empty space in Kirishima’s skull? Fuck, he’s not a poet, leave him the fuck alone.

“Bedroom. Now.” Katsuki muttered, both of his hands on Y/N’s peachy bottoms; Kirishima must say it was quite hot how his best bro just took the girl into his arms like she weights nothing and maneuvered through his flat with his tongue still down the poor gal’s throat.

After the bedroom door has closed, Kirishima stayed in one place, which wasn’t the brightest idea of them all; he heard things he never wanted to hear, tiny whimpers and moans, mostly Y/N and when a really loud moan left her mouth, that’s when Kirishima decided the two are probably too invested in each other to care if the door opens now so he made his way out the flat, silent like a fucking ninja and lonely like the that smelly dude on the train he tried to entertain the other day but apparently, being alone is better than to listen to Kirishima’s shitty jokes.

Kirishima has no idea how he will look into his best bro’s eyes tomorrow after knowing how his horny face looks like.

There are a lot things bros can know about each other, but he’s quite sure this isn’t one of those things.

Kirishima will definitely not sleep tonight. Hell, he will never even blink for too long.

“Are you okay, boss?” His teammate had asked him when he came back into his agency with his face white as a sheet.

“No. I’ve seen something I can never unsee.” He muttered under his nose, not even looking up.

“Did you go to use the toilet when the new lizard guy did? That happened to me too and that was indeed terrifying. I did ask him about it, though and he can retract the spikes in case he wants to… get frisky so it doesn’t hurt the other person…”

“Oh my god, shut up!” Kirishima yelled, absolutely disgusted, for real this time.

You know what, seeing his best bro manhandling his girlfriend is probably not that bad as whatever this guy is talking about it.

Kirishima will be fine… eventually.

~•💥•~

This is just another day for Mr. Katsuki. The sun shines through the slits of his brand new, super expensive curtains, Steven is already wide awake at the humble hour of 6AM, aggressively knocking on his balcony door to get fed, even though Katsuki put a fucking automatic bird feeder right next to his ridiculously expensive bird house and there is a nice warmth coming from his left side but it’s fucking cold on the other.

Steven is really fucking annoying today and he really doesn’t like the cold but nothing in the whole fucking universe can fuck up Katsuki’s good mood today.

Why, you ask?

Because Bakugou Katsuki has finally got laid. And it was really fucking awesome.

It was weirdly awkward sometimes but at the same time it was really… cosy? He is really bad at explaining feelings and shit so don’t ask him questions but while his first time was absolutely not how he expected it to be; he fumbled a lot then he cried like an idiot after the action; but somehow, even with all the weird pauses it was… it was better than he expected it to be. So much better. Oh my, Mr. Bakugou Katsuki can’t wait to try all the possible poses in the near future - ahh, there is a book about it, right? Katsuki needs to get that and start to study.

Okay, Mr. Bakugou Katsuki needs to stop thinking about cheeky things right before work.

Why, you ask?

Well, fucking guess.

“Hm…” Katsuki’s woman grumbles, still attached to his half-dead arm. Oh, that bloody woman, how much he fucking loves her ugly little scrunched face when she wakes up. Fuck’s sake. “You need some help with that?” The menace bites into his ear and Katsuki can barely stop himself from moaning out loud. He got more sensitive, isn’t he? Is this a normal thing?

“We need to be in the office in an hour.” Katsuki murmurs begrudgingly, but he pulls Y/N closer anyway, because he can’t fucking stop himself.

“Challenge accepted…” She kisses down his neck and Katsuki’s little friend comes alive once more.

Mr. Bakugou Katsuki only just woke up but he already managed to try out a new pose, just how he wanted.

This isn’t just another day. No.

This is… the best day of Katsuki’s life.

~•💥•~

When Katsuki and his woman arrives at the agency, Shitty hair is nowhere to be seen.

This is certainly odd; Eijirou is usually the first one to arrive, ready with everyone’s coffee because there is sunshine coming out of his ass even at 7 in the morning; but instead of his best friend, his eyes are met with all the extras looking at them two like they both grew a second head which is impossible in his case and quite possible in Y/N’s. Katsuki looks at his woman and the badly covered bite mark on her neck; he did that and he’s proud and also, she only has one head. Thank fucking god for that.

“The fuck are you staring for, extras?!” Katsuki yells because he’s a good boss who wants to know if the extras are bothered by something - no, he doesn’t really fucking care nor he wants to solve the problem, that’s what shitty hair is for but he can listen. For five seconds, max, but still… he can.

“Uhm… you two came in through the hallway at the same time. I was just wondering…” One really fucking brave bitch decides to speak up for the team - her name? Katsuki has zero clue but she’s quite helpful with the paperwork.

“Can you not finish your sentence, thrift store Avril Lavigne? Do you not have the balls or what?!” Katsuki challenges the chick and hell, he really hopes the chick takes it as that and not as workplace abuse because the last thing Katsuki needs in his life right now is an hour in the HR office.

“Did you guys have a one night stand or something?” Thrift Store Avril comes forward with her hand on her chest, probably to make sure her heart doesn’t jump out of it from how terrified she is right now. Katsuki sees red.

“Did you just call my woman a whore?”

“Katsuki, calm down…” Y/N stands between them to save the poor girl’s life, but Katsuki is not having it. The whole office gawks at the sound of his first name. What the fuck, did they not know his name before?! “She didn’t mean it like that…”

“Be disrespectful to her again and I’ll fire your ass and send you to the moon, I’ll blast you up through your asshole…”

“Babe!” Y/N downright laughs in the blond’s face but instead of getting angry all he can do is to remember how Y/N giggled in the morning while she slowly moved on top of him and… “I’m sorry, Akari and everyone. You’ll see me coming out of Katsuki’s apartment quite a lot because…”

“Because she will fucking live there. From today. Yeah.” Katsuki barges into Y/N’s sentence with zero remorse. “Take that, you lonely bitches, I have a serious relationship and I fucking love this woman and I ain’t ashamed of it anymore.” Instead of the sounds of terror he can only hear a bunch of “awwwwww”, which makes no sense but whatever. “Now let us fucking go and mind your own business. Also, find fucking Kirishima. I can’t be bothered.” He barely finishes the sentence before the door slams behind him. “Fucking nosy extras…”

“I love you too, Kats.” Y/N kisses him on the lips once they’re behind close doors. Fuck, Katsuki loves his life.

It’s really hard to start the day with Y/N’s tongue down his throat but Katsuki manages to get the office ready by the time his useless partner/best friend barges into his office. He looks disheveled and out of breath so maybe… maybe he got into a fight on his way to the office?! It wouldn’t be the first time to be fair nor the last. There are no scars or blood visible on his skin which is also quite normal as the guy is literally indestructible. The only clue Katsuki has about Kirishima’s lateness is the TWELVE FUCKING COFFEES in his hand, 6 in each, in a little plastic holder with red handles.

“What the actual….” One of the handles break in Kirishima’s stressed grasp and all six of the coffees end up on the floor. On Katsuki’s. Fucking. Floor. “Fuck.”

“Katsuki. I’m in love.” Kirishima falls to the floor dramatically, not even saying sorry for the mess he just made. Katsuki… again… sees red. And no, he doesn’t see Kirishima. I mean he does, obviously, it’s quite hard to miss his fucking obnoxious hair but… what he means is that he gets… angry. I know. A shocker.

“And what does the twelve fucking coffees spilled on my floor have to do with that?!”

“Six spilled coffees. Uhm… six and a half. Eight.” Eijirou babbles, clearly ready to die. “She made them, Katsuki. They taste like honey, like happiness. Like unicorns and candy clouds, like Crimson Riot’s sweat and tears, Katsuki she’s so beautiful and so sweet and kinda rude but like, I really like that? She could kick my butt and I’d say thank you…”

“You are fucking dead, Shitty Hair.” Katsuki takes one step, then another and Kirishima falls out of the window, the glass shattering all over as his heavy, hardened body flies towards the parking space. As Katsuki stares after his best friend he can’t help but notice someone inside the staff area of the freshly opened coffee shop, a red haired woman, laughing her ass off as Kirishima finally lands on the now broken concrete, flat like a pancake.

“Call the window people. We also need someone to fix the concrete.” Katsuki mutters, back to work mode as he quickly grabs his handy little car vacuum sitting in his drawer to clean his chair from the glass shards.

“Roger that, boss.” Y/N grins, phone already by her ears.

No one even asks a single question. Not the team, not the repair people. This is how normal it is in this agency to break shit.

Katsuki loves his agency. So fucking much.

~•💥•~

The next few days are probably the best days of your life; you two don’t talk about moving together anymore but you never get to go home or even if you do, Katsuki comes with you and packs random stuff into your suitcase you don’t even need so even without him saying it, you know he was serious about moving in together. You should probably sit down and talk about it, make sure this is what you both want but at the same time, it just feels so… right, to slowly move your life into his home, fill the wardrobe until it’s nice, full and lived in… without words, the decision was made and you are sure that by the time your lease expires, there will be nothing in your flat anyway.

Sharing a life with Katsuki is surprisingly easy.

There is no reason for you to talk about responsibilities around the house; Katsuki loves to cook and you don’t mind doing the dishes, Katsuki enjoys hanging the wet clothes on the drying rack for some reason so you automatically do the washing, knowing the hard work will be shared so there is no frustration in the air about one doing too much or too less.

The only silly thing about Katsuki is his obsession with having all his spices in alphabetical order and his clothes color-coordinated but Katsuki is a great partner so instead of forcing you to do it his way he just asks you to let him do his own thing so he “won’t have a meltdown.” It doesn’t mean you don’t try your best to remember these small things in case you ever need to do it for him, but… it’s a nice thought. Bakugou Katsuki is really fucking nice in his own fucked up way.

There is one thing that you can’t help but fight about and it’s constant; it’s your hero work.

“It has only been two fucking weeks, woman, chill the fuck out! We are training every fucking day.” Katsuki yells, exasperated for needing to say the same thing over and over. “You can’t just jump back into the battlefield like you haven’t been away for years. I know you are fucking frustrated, I hated every single minute of my life after the Big War, I felt fucking useless for not being able to help while my old classmates who didn’t get fucked up were getting all the recognition while I was rotting on my couch for a month.”

“One month Katsuki!” You yell back. “I’ve been rotting away for a whole fucking year, even more than that! I’m not asking you to let me beat up the biggest gang in Japan, I just want to help with smaller cases! You are being unprofessional! Even the small fries are out on the streets, patrolling yet here I am, kicking your fucking ass every day yet I can’t even go out on the street to stop an unarmed, quirkless thief!” You yell back with tears in your eyes.

“Uhm, sorry to interrupt but Y/N is right. She should be able to help out with smaller cases, I would even dare to say she’s more than capable to be on the sidelines when it comes to the bigger ones, like the one we are getting ready for right now…” Kirishima mumbles into the space, feeling extremely awkward to speak up; even though you are all in Katsuki’s office it does feel like a lover’s quarrel and not like a hero talking to her boss about getting a promotion.

“Since when are you here?!” Katsuki yells, even more exasperated.

“Since the beginning, Katsuki.” Eijirou sighs, clearly done with his life. “I’ve been here for an hour. You saw me come in. You even rolled your eyes to say hi.”

“I fucking did not.” Katsuki mutters with a red face.

“So what the fuck do you want me to do to prove I’m more than capable to kick an ass?! Should I write an assay? Should I swear loyalty to you like a fucking knight?! Katsuki, even Kirishima says I should be able to go back! You are not acting as my boss but as my boyfriend right now and while I’m really happy you worry about me, I’m dying here! You are suffocating me!” You yell with tears in your eyes. You hate this. So fucking much. You hate the look Katsuki gives you, the worry in his eyes, the terrified frown on his face as you finish your last sentence.

“Oi, oi, oi, both of you, SHUT UP!” Kirishima yells, for the first time since you’ve started working here. Kirishima can be really scary when he’s mad, by the way. You are actually about to shit your pants as you look at him. “Katsuki, she doesn’t mean YOU. She means this situation. She’s not breaking up with you!”

“Yeah, definitely not. I love you, idiot.” You mutter with a red face, avoiding eye contact with everyone. Kirishima nods at that. Katsuki looks like he’s about to cry from the relief.

“Also, I have an idea.” He continues with determination. “If Y/N is able to keep up with Number One Hero in a fight, will you let her join us on our next mission?” Kirishima has lost his mind, but also, he’s kind of a genius. “Deku has several quirks himself. It will be a fair fight. I’m not saying you are not good enough but Y/N already knows your fighting style. She also knows mine. Deku plus Todoroki would be a brand new challenge for her. Those two are a terrible pair to fight against. If she can win against them or even just bare with the two for a long time she’s more than capable to join our main team. Not the small fries, the main.”

“If I lose I’ll join the small fries for however long you want me to. But if I win… I’ll fight by your side.” You look at Kirishima with nothing but wonder in your eyes; you didn’t realize how amazing he is at compromising. Now it makes so much sense how he ended up being Katsuki’s best friend.

“Fuck. Fuck!” Katsuki yells, frustrated. “Okay. Fucking… okay.” He finally sits down, defeated. You can’t help but go over to him, put your arms around his small middle and give him a kiss on his temple.

“Thank you. I won’t disappoint.”

“I know, that’s the problem.” He mutters with nothing, but worry in his beautiful crimson eyes.

“I love you too.” You snicker, the love pouring out of your heart as you stare at your amazing, caring boyfriend. “We’ll be the hottest hero couple of the history.”

Katsuki pulls you into his lap as you say that; he embraces you so tightly you can barely breathe but the movement is so full of affection and love you have no heart to tell him.

“Okay, I’m leaving before I see something I don’t want to see.” Kirishima leaves you two alone before you can say bye. You need to tell him how amazing he is before your shift ends.

“I fucking hate this, Y/N.” Katsuki admits with his face hidden in your chest. “I don’t want to see you get hurt. I know that’s the shitty boyfriend talking, I know it’s wrong but fuck, I don’t want to loose you.” Katsuki mutters, clearly shocked by the sudden change.

“You won’t. You know why?” You smile at him, your fingers raking through his soft hair. “Because I have someone to fight for, I have a beautiful boyfriend to come home to. I have a family. You are my family.” You leave another kiss on his temple, really close to crying.

“Stop making me feel all mushy and sensitive, I hate it.” Katsuki sniffles, pulling you even closer. Oh, how much you fucking love this man. Fuck’s sake.

“But think about how sexy it will be when I kick your old rival’s ass for you. Think about going home after that and…” you whisper into his ear suggestively, not even sorry for the shudder that goes down the blond’s spine from the action.

“When is your break?” Katsuki mutters with heat in his voice.

“In an hour. But my boss wouldn’t mind if I would take it a bit sooner, would he?”

Katsuki doesn’t answer; he just takes you into his arms and carries you towards the office door with pure determination then kicks his front door open only a few seconds after.

Needless to say, your break was really… uhm… satisfying.

The impromptu lunch was good, too.

… Next Chapter!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Potato ramble:

- Bro I love these two so much but I also like how sometimes they still need Kirishima to be able to sort their shit out because they are both too stubborn to compromise 😂

- The Kirishima coffee bit is actually a part of the new Kirishima series I’ll start posting once this one ends! We will see how he ended up with 12 coffees in Chapter 1!

- If I don’t deviate from my original plans this story ends after the fight then there will be an extra story (I don’t want to spoil it but it’s connected to something that happened in season 1 and it will be fucking hilarious! Tell me your guesses! :D)

- The next chapter might be a little late thanks to the Christmas rush in retail + I’m terrible with writing fights so GIVE ME SOME TIME 😂

- Tell me how your thoughts! 💜 cheers x x x

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

TL: @sixxze @iwannahaveaprettyaesthetic @hanatsuki-hime @cloroxisadelectabletreat @cheesenmax @coffeent @smolsleepybat @therealpotatobish @qardasngan @canarystwin @unofficialmuilover @nanamomo1 @mikestuffffs @p4ndawrites @yao-ai

[nekoramen]

content;

kuroo tetsuro. semi-angst, comedy, semi-fluff. best friends au, unrequited love / yearning (kuroo's pov), post-college au. mentions of bokuto x reader. 2,110 words.

warnings: brief mentions of alcohol + drinking, swearing

might be ooc; i like goofy men and kuroo is goofy

please watch 'how to lose a guy in 10 days' if you haven't already!!

it's assumed that kuroo, reader, and bokuto are all friends

"kuroo. give. it."

kuroo smirks, holding your remote just out of reach with those long, gangly limbs of his. he pushes and play-slaps at you as you try (weakly) to take it back. "dude, we have literally watched 'how to lose a guy in 10 days' for the last ten movie nights in a row now. how are you not tired of it yet."

you roll your eyes. "first of all, it's only been nine times. second," you eye him, "you are not depriving me of my man matthew mcconaughey. not tonight."

this. is. war. to be fair, he started it and you were just taking the necessary measures.

you lunge at him and your fingers find his sides. you dig and tickle him without remorse. he gasps between laughs as he tries to escape you, writhing and retreating until he was cornered and pressed against the couch arm.

"stop, stop, please! okay, okay," he wheezes and goes limp against the arm in defeat. you relent with a cackle. in the few seconds you take to pluck the remote from him though, there's a few things he lingers on:

you, hovering above him with your knees planted on either side of him, body almost pressed against his. you're warm.

that wide, dorky grin of yours. the absurd frenzy in your eyes when you get competitive and a little childish.

the brush of your hand over his. it's tingly.

the flips in his stomach and the tightening of his chest when you've pulled away.

kuroo swats at the thoughts. they keep creeping up from your persistence to watch this god-forsaken movie combined with his love for antics but nope. nope. nope. stop it. head empty please.

he doesn't think further on it anyways (as least not too hard) because 'how to lose a guy in 10 days' is playing (yet again) and to be honest, it's so fucking good. not that he'd ever make you privy to that thought; partially because he doesn't want to admit that he actually likes it after the countless times you'd badgered him to watch it while he refused and hated on it for no good reason. (he gave in on your birthday. no regrets.)

mostly, though, it's because he quite likes the routine. he steals the remote, you fight for it, you... fuck. stop. don't think about it.

"tetsu," you whisper.

"hm?" he snaps his head towards you, eager to escape his brain. you're silent, brows furrowed and poor lip gnawed at ruthlessly. he slowly leans towards you, stone-faced.

a blink, two, and he drawls out in his raspiest voice, "why… so... serious?"

you splutter out a laugh and he grins. it's wonderful, your laugh. it’s wind-chimes on a clear spring day, the crash of a cool summer sea on his skin, sunrays filtering through a cloudy sky. his gaze lingers on you, but you soon turn away back to the screen.

"____. i know your husband is very handsome, but are you okay?" he gently pokes your shoulder. "you seem down. don't wanna talk about it with your bestie?"

you cringe but he pulls another chuckle from you. your bestie, dependable as ever, can always put a smile on your face, you'll give him that. even if he's annoying 99.999999% of the time.

you beckon to your cat charlie from his post and he trots over, his grand fluffiness and all promptly plopping into your lap. you pet him a few, gentle purrs as your reward.

finally, you face kuroo again. "i'm gonna do it," you squeak out.

kuroo hums. "do what?"

"it. that." you nod towards the screen. kuroo blinks back at you.

"i'm... gonna ask him out. bokuto."

you blink at kuroo. he blinks back. matthew (ben) gets up from his stadium seat yet again for a soda.

"you're gonna ask him out... like you said you would the last ten times?"

"charlie." you point to kuroo. "attack."

"meow."

you just had to get the 0.00000001% saint of a cat.

"i really will this time though," you sigh. even you can’t convince yourself of it.

"it's okay to be nervous. you're great and i'm sure he'd be so freaking happy to go out with you." he smiles at you. "you can do this. you got this." he knows you won't do it, but he knows proper bestie behavior.

you stare ahead but he can see you biting back a grin.

"okay," you finally mutter and turn to him, shoulders untensed. "thanks, tetsu. i think i really can do it."

"of course." you both concentrate back on the movie for some time until he leans back over. "i know this is your favorite comfort movie, but did you choose it specifically to try and manifest andie?”

you tense.

"you gonna channel her? all her charm and confidence? oh god… the craziness...? yours isn't fake though. poor bokuto doesn’t know what’s coming," he teases.

you punch his arm but you can’t hide your sheepish smile. "stop perceiving me."

+++++

it's another three fridays until you and kuroo have another movie night. such is the life of a new college grad, working overtime and grabbing drinks with coworkers until your respective projects finally die down a bit and you can both find some time.

"kirin secured!" kuroo calls out as he bustles into your apartment. it’s been too long since he’s been here. since he’s seen you. "i don't know how you like this stuff. beer is fucking disgusting. soju is where it's at."

"first of all, don't yuck my yum. second, fried chicken is literally the best but i still got you your favorite beef skewers without complaining when, frankly, you're wrong and it should be fried chicken tonight."

"you're literally complaining."

you stick your tongue out at him.

kuroo sets out the food on the coffee table in front of the tv as you lay out pillows and blankets for some royally cozy floor seating. once the both of you sink into the sea of softness, you hand him the remote.

his brows surpass his hairline. "you don't wanna choose?" he asks.

you shake your head, grinning wide. "you've put up with me for so many movie nights in a row, i can let you have this one time."

"wow. how generous of you." he snickers. maybe he can finally blow off the dust that had been collecting on his to-watch list.

"so, what’s got you celebrating? did you get a good performance review?" he asks as he endlessly scrolls through the list on his phone.

"mmm..."

he looks up. you still don that big, dorky smile. "what? what is it?"

unable to take it anymore, you abruptly grab his shoulders. "i did it."

he responds with a blank stare.

"oh my god." you roll your eyes. "i did it! i fucking did it, kuroo!" you shake him violently. "i did it!"

"you have to realize i can't read your mind," he says, his head nearly snapping off.

"i asked bokuto out on a date!"

he clasps his hands over yours. you stop shaking him. "...really?" he says slowly, quietly.

"yes!" you exclaim. "and get this—he said yes! like, immediately! he seemed so excited about it too! god, i, i can't even believe i did it, well to be honest i had a couple drinks that day with my team but i called him and he came and i just did it and he said he was literally thinking about asking me out too but he kept chickening out and he was so sweet and helped make plans while he drove me home and he made sure i got inside before leaving and—"

"that's... that's great." he pats your hands.

but all too sudden for his heart, especially after your spiel, he’s tugged into into a crushing hug.

“thank you, tetsu,” you murmur. you pull back a bit and somehow you’re not the least fazed by the closeness of your faces. “i couldn’t have done this without you. for real. your words helped me find the courage, you know?”

kuroo’s heart dissolves in the pit of his stomach, but he still manages a smile. “of course. and i meant every word.”

he turns back to his list, letting his smile fade but you add, “god, i’m so excited for tomorrow.”

he eyes you. “tomorrow… is your date tomorrow?”

you’re practically vibrating in your seat and you happily pull off a cube of meat from your skewer. “yep!” you say between chews.

kuroo forces the corners of his mouth to curve upward again. just a little bit longer. “that’s great!” he cheers and sets down his phone. he picks up the remote and quickly clicks through a well-known path before pressing play.

“how to lose a guy in 10 days?” you say incredulously, wide-eyed and head tilted.

he nods. “yep.” you’re still staring in his peripheral. “i just need it,” he relents with a sigh.

“you… need it?”

he looks pointedly at you for a few seconds before slowly turning back to the screen. “matthew mcconaughey.”

+++++

curse bestie behavior.

he shouldn’t be here. not when you’re getting ready for your date, not when you’re grinning ear to ear thinking about said date, not when he’s nauseated thinking about you grinning ear to ear thinking about said date. no.

your singing floats softly from your bedroom to kuroo in the living room. he sighs, gazing out your window to the neighborhood while cradling charlie. it’s a beautiful sunny day. disgusting.

he holds charlie up facing him. “i can do it. i can do it. right? you believe in me, don’t you, charlie?”

“meow.”

“thank you. i appreciate it.”

there’s a creak of a door behind him, and he turns. you’re stunning. he glances at the floor because he’s sure his heart has leapt out of his chest but no, somehow it’s still stuttering in there. you look so magnificent. and most noticeably, happy.

“good?” you ask, fidgeting with your fingers.

“of course! you look great,” he replies with a tight smile.

“thanks," you reply, beaming and far too giddy to note how quickly the corners of kuroo's mouth droop.

he watches you pace around, gathering your things and alternating between checking your appearance in your camera and your text messages.

"____."

"hm?"

he opens his mouth but you fill his sight with that poor gnawed lip, worry creasing your brows, and your tremor from all the capped anxiety and excitement.

he closes his mouth and walks over to you, passing you charlie and placing his hands firmly on your shoulders.

"don't worry," he says, confident and assured. "you'll be fine. he'll have such a good time with you and i'm sure you will too." he gives your shoulders a light squeeze. "i'm sure of it."

you breathe out a heavy sigh. leaning forward, you lightly tap your forehead on his shoulder. "honestly i think i'm gonna throw up, but that helped a lot. thanks, kuroo. seriously."

you pet charlie, visibly more relaxed from kuroo's words, and he's able to give you his first sincere smile today. he wants to savor this, you and him, you being any bit happier because of him. he soaks up the sight of you for another beat before opening his mouth again.

but a ping of your phone jolts you. you thrust charlie back into kuroo's arms, grabbing your things and quickly glancing at your phone before rushing to the door.

"wish me luck!" you exclaim with a frantic wave of your hand before you disappear from sight.

kuroo deflates and looks down at charlie. round green orbs blink back.

"you're right," kuroo nods. "i'm gonna do it."

he bolts for the door and steps out, eyes locking onto your figure, a bounce in your every step.

"____!"

you halt and glance back. you're beaming from ear to ear, maybe the biggest smile he's ever seen on you. it's blinding. several feet behind you, he sees bokuto leaning against the passenger door of his car. he's grinning as per usual, and seeing kuroo, he gives an enthusiastic wave.

"what's up?" you call back.

kuroo stares at you for a moment, lip between his teeth and chest rising and falling several beats too quickly.

finally, he simply raises charlie above his head, simba-style.

"charlie says 'have fun,'" he musters weakly, accompanied by a small wiggle of your furry companion.

you giggle and wave back at the pair before bouncing over to bokuto.

kuroo hurries back inside, closing the door and leaning back against it. he sinks his face into charlie's unending fluff, releasing a huge sigh.

"fuck," he says, muffled.

"meow."

fuck indeed.