#but like i said im always thinking about how knuckles was originally gonna be in unleashed but was cut

[sonknuxadow]

they should do sonknux unleashed next i think that would be so awesome

[thegreencanary]

Home is where you are…so let’s get out of here together.

Okay! This is part 2 of my Billy series. Some how this ended up being 3-4 parts. I am working on the last two because i feel like they’re shit. I don’t know how I cranked out so much story but I’m rolling with it. Im not sure if I’m gonna post the last two cuz I can just end the story here. Let me know what y’all want! ❤️

A/N: This is my work and I don’t give anyone the permission to post it anywhere claiming to be someone else’s. I worked hard on this, if you enjoy it please interact. Requests are open.

Part 1 is here

Summary: After Billy comes back to Hawkins he finds the one that got away in an all to familiar situation. He’s healed, but are you ready to be?

TW: Abuse, Cursing, uhhh I think that’s it for this one. The abuse is pretty heavy so don’t say I didn’t warn you. Also MINORS DNI I SEE YOU. STOP IT.

Lots of fluff in this one. Uhhh I think that’s all! Enjoy!!

Y/N

That night went by pretty quickly after Billy left, you talked a bit more with Steve; and he definitely picked up on your old crush. Kicking him out so he could get to his movie you caught yourself daydreaming about Billy. Something you used to do to try and calm yourself after Carol or Jason were especially cruel to you. Robin thought you were crazy because Billy always was on you too, but after Starcourt he just…ignored everyone. You completely understood, all of you were different after each incident; but Billy and Eddie were the only two who died and came back. You shook the bad memories from your thoughts and headed home around 2:00am.

Leaving that late was never something you enjoyed but it came with being a bartender. Despite some slow evenings you could pull around $500 a week and it paid for your apartment and the bills your family threw on you. Unfortunately it didn’t pay for your car all the time. You couldn’t afford the insurance this month so you were stuck walking him. Clutching your apartment keys so they were sticking out of your knuckles you walked out, surprised to find a car in the lot. Originally it scared the shit out of you, but the Benz looked all to familiar. Steve and Billy sat in the car talking when Billy caught sight of you.

B: “Hey! Harrington she’s out come on…”

You giggled but looked confused as the two got out of the car and headed to you.

B: “I was a little tired of driving and Harrington told me what time you close…”

S: “Loverboy didn’t want you going to your car alone.”

You laughed as Billy punched his arm enough to make Steve whimper, but he was looking around for your car.

Y: “…Thanks. I actually really appreciate it. Walking home isn’t ever a fun thing.”

Steve froze and Billy looked a bit more concerned than he originally did.

S: “Dude, since when are you walking? What happened to your car? I would’ve come and gotten you any-“

Y: “It’s fine Steve. I didn’t want to be a burden just had some…issues with it so I opted to walk. I need the exercise anyways.”

B: “Well get in. We’re taking you home.”

You flinched slightly at his tone. He definitely seemed pissed off about something.

The car ride was awkward because Steve was tearing you a new one for not asking for a ride or asking Eddie to look at your car. You insisted it was because you didn’t have time and you knew how inconvenient your hours were.

Y: “…for gods sake Steve you’re already yawning and we haven’t even made it to my apartment complex.”

Steve waved you off. The quiet was a bit unsettling as Billy hadn’t said anything. It looked like he was focusing on his breathing or something.

Billy

*1…2…3…4…5…5…4…3…2…1*

Billy silently counted in his head, a technique he learned in anger management. Every ounce of his being wanted to beat the shit out of Harrington for not noticing you was walking and to scream at you for not saying anything. *That was the old me* he kept reminding himself, he had worked so hard to be better for Max…for himself. California was what he needed but he didn’t realize how damaged he was until he and Max got into a fight and he almost smacked her around like his father hit him. Right there he promised her he would get help, and he did. He spent 2 years in classes and he learned things about himself he never wanted to; but needed to. The hardest part was when someone he cared about was in danger.

B: “You’re upset he’s falling asleep and you were gonna try to walk this far…how far is this? 9 miles?”

He tried to sound as calm as possible but it definitely came out like he was scolding you. He saw your head drop a bit and he sighed to himself

Y: “…it’s only 6 miles…”

Billy lightly smirked and smacked his forehead. He was amazed you could walk at night, you used to be terrified of the dark. He remembered you spending nights With him in the hospital because they never turned all the lights off.

B: “Well I’m going to be here for a few days so I’ll look at your car and I can pick you up and drop you off while I’m here… and I won’t take no for an answer Y/L/N.”

Billy turned to smile at you but it faltered when he saw the pained expression on your face. You shook her head and glanced at Steve and he got the message. You didn’t want to talk about it in-front of him. Billy nodded softly and placed a gentle hand on your knee.

B: “When do you work next hun?”

Steve laughed softly and Billy punched him again. The blondes smile came back as he saw the blush paint your cheeks.

Y: “I work tomorrow at 4:30…”

B: “I’ll see you at your place at 3:00 so I can look at your car.”

He felt you go rigid under his hand but he gently squeezed your leg and sat back down. Steve tried to say something but Billy shot him the Hargrove glare and Harrington kept his mouth shut.

————————————————

True to his word, Billy showed up at 3:00. He went to knock on your door when he heard shouting from the other side. Quickly he turned the corner to hide from the person coming out of the apartment. Billy first assumed it was a boyfriend on the other side but when he came out it looked more like your father. He slammed the door shut and it made him flash back to Neil shouting at him. Quickly Billy went to the door and knocked. Her heard you sniffling and you answered the door, back to him. You were on the phone.

Y: “Thanks Lexi. I owe you, just the next few shift and I’ll be back in tip top shape. Promise.”

Billy assumed you were getting your shifts covered but he didn’t know why. Once you turned to him, he got it. Your black eye would have caused a lot of problems at work.

Y: “…before you say anythin—“

Billy didn’t think much. He wrapped you in a tight hug and gently stroked your hair. Nothing was spoken between the two of you but Billy felt you relax into him. A wet spot appeared on his white tank top and Billy realized you were crying.

B:”…Sweetheart, are you alright?”

It took Billy a bit to speak because he had to keep himself from following your dad out and beating the living shit out of him for putting his hands on your. This, your hug, felt much more important, and he knew you’d be pissed if you beat her dad up. Slowly you pulled away from him, and it felt like the hole in his chest got bigger. He didn’t even realize you filled it in that moment.

Y: “…I’m okay, but you don’t have to look at my car. I won’t be working until next week so you can spend your time back saying hi to your friends and stuff.”

Billy sighed and pulled away from you completely. He disappeared into your room.

Y/N

“…Billy!! What are you doing?? That’s my stuff!!”

Billy Hargrove was in your room, after your dad had just come in and smacked the shit out of you for being late on their electric bill. Everything was still a blur while you watched him pack your clothes in a bag. He grabbed a skimpy dress you hadn’t worn since high school and two bras. You couldn’t help but start laughing at his choices. Gently you approached him, you could tell he was angry.

Y: “…Billy are you sending me to a strip club? What are you packing me for?”

You smiled as he realized what he’d packed and a blush hit his ears.

B: “you’re staying with me and Harrington for a bit. Just until you’re better and you can tell someone in the group what’s going on.”

You shrunk into yourself. It was nice he wasn’t totally pushing you to talk about it but it was clear he wanted you to. Sighing you started grabbing actual clothes and packing those. Satisfied it seemed, Billy stood in the doorway and watched you pack. His laugh caused you to look up at him.

B: “A night light. I knew you were still scared of the dark.”

You blushed and threw a sweater at him, but yeah you grabbed two and packed them.

B: “So is something actually wrong with your car too? Because I can fix it. I told you I own my own shop out in California, I kinnnnnda know what I’m doing Babe.”

The pet names were coming on strong and it was hard for you to maintain your composure. You grabbed the dress he did earlier and packed it. Who knows, maybe Steve will throw a party while you’re over.

Y: “I bet you’re a big deal Billy, but you don’t have to worry about it. I’m sure I can fix it later.”

Throwing your bag at him you walked past him and grabbed your apartment keys. He wasn’t gonna let the car thing go, but for now you were happy he didn’t say anything.

———————————————

Steve really should run an orphanage or home for misfits. Since his parents decided to ‘backpack through Africa’ or some weird rich people shit, he’d been the go to place to crash. He didn’t care because he loved the company and his parents left the credit cards. He knew about your family because when you showed up with a bruise he just hugged you, took your bag from Billy and set you up in his parents room. Billy took his room which was across the hall and Steve was booted to the guest room. Billy fought him about it for 10 minutes while you took a shower and dressed in a giant sweatshirt and leggings to get comfortable. Grumbling something Steve gave his room up by the time you walked out to meet them.

S: “hey are you okay with us still doing a movie night tonight Y/N? We can always push it to another night.”

Steve loved having the crew over for movie nights on Fridays. You smiled and shook your head.

Y: “let’s Keep it. I’m sure everyone will be happy to see Billy, and I haven’t seen dusty boy or Will in a few months.”

Lucas didn’t live to far from you so when you could drive your car legally you offered to drive him to school, same with Mike. Hopper always took El, but she made a point to try to come to your apartment to check on you. That girl was always protective of you.

Billy winked at you, he was proud of you for going through with it. He didn’t know that everyone else knew about your situation, so it wasn’t really that brave of you.

Night time rolled around and you settled into the couch after greeting everyone. Nancy gave you and extra king hug and Robin made some sarcastic comments that made you feel better. Eddie gave you a new Iron Maiden tape which definitely lifted your spirits, but everyone was focused on Billy. Happy to see he was doing well and asking all about California. Lucas wanted to ask about Max only and Dustin kept trying to shut him up. Eventually you all settled in and Billy was squished up next to you as Lucas and dustin crowded in on him. Will sat at your feet next to Steve and El sat with Mike. Nancy, Robin, Eddie and Jonathan spread out and made comfortable piles elsewhere.

Eddie picked the movie, Stephen king’s ‘Pet Semetary.’ You rolled your eyes, not only did you hate horror movies, you were almost sitting on Billy’s lap and hoping the movie would distract you. He wrapped one arm around you when you groaned at the title.

B: “I got you babe. Don’t be scared.”

You could tell he was teasing…right? He wore his signature smirk and his crystal blue eyes pierced yours.

Y: “…shut it Hargrove.”

He chuckled but his arm didn’t move.

Billy

He couldn’t focus on the movie. You were so close to him. Billy was happy to see that everyone knew how to take care of you, how to make you forget about your shitty family. He wished he had been that way when he was going through it. Something scary happened in the movie and you jumped, moving closer to him. Careful not to tease you away, he leaned into a bit. Wether or not you did it subconsciously or on purpose, the tilting of your head onto his shoulder almost sent him over the edge. His free hand gently combed though your hair and he noticed how you started to doze off. Looking around at the end of the movie, so did everyone else. Billy chuckled softly; only this crew of people could fall asleep during a horror movie. They’d all seen enough horror in real life.

Lifting you gently, Billy started carrying you to your room. He felt you shift and hold onto him more and on God he wanted to carry you away to California right there. He laid you down on the bed and took a moment to admire you, just beautiful you. He glanced at your bag and scoffed to himself. Grabbing the nightlight he plugged it in for you.

Y: “…Billy?”

He froze and turned toward you. Afraid you’d be mad that he went through your stuff.

Y:”…could you st—could you keep the hall light on? Thank you for bringing me up here.”

He could have sworn you were going to ask him to stay. God he wished you asked him to stay.

B: “sure thing sweetheart.”

Y: “why do you call me that?”

*Because you’re my sweetheart. Because you deserve to be showered in compliments. Not the shit I was calling you before.* He wanted to tell you the truth, that he’d been pining after you for years. Today seemed rough for you and he…he didn’t think he could handle if you rejected him.

B: “because you have a sweet heart…idiot.”

Your chuckle made him smile and he approached you. Billy knelt down so you two were eye to eye, and he gently moved the hair way from your bruised eye.

B: “how long?”

Y: “About a year and a half. I moved out to get away, but it’s a lot more complicated than that.”

Billy got comfortable on the floor and smiled.

B: “I’ve got all the time In the world baby, and I know you’re too scared to go to sleep.”

Your gently hand lightly shoving him proved his point, but his heart leapt as you sat up and motioned for him to join you on the bed.

Y/N

Y: “don’t get any ideas bucko. I just don’t want you looking up at me like a lost puppy.”

Billy laughed but joined you, but instead of sitting across from you, he sat next to you. Honestly you had no idea why you wanted him so close but he was just so damn…comforting.

B: “here, now you don’t have to look at me. I know…I know how hard it is.”

The relief you felt was visible and you leaned into Billy, wrapping one arm around his waist. You could hear his heart racing and he knew you could. The both of you blushed but he listened as you explained.

Y: “After Vecna, you and Eddie dying but coming back, I had some hard times. My grades were slipping and I couldn’t focus on anything. I was so scared of so much and my parents just kept getting frustrated that their perfect daughter was slipping. Then Jason Carver’s family fired my father and he blamed it all on me, because I rejected Jason at the town fair. My dad turned to alcohol and the rest was history. He forced me to sign for some of their bills so when I moved out I still pay for their things. He got mad at me today because I was late on the light bill…I can’t even cover my own car insurance.”

B: “so your car is fine, you just can’t afford to drive it.”

You nodded and grabbed a pillow hiding your embarrassed face. Tears threatened at your eyes as you heard a soft, non judgmental chuckle and you felt lips on your forehead. He kissed your forehead. You pulled the pillow down a bit and he smiled at you.

B: “hey beautiful.”

Y: “…you talking to a mirror?”

You giggled as he tried to lightly tickle your sides, making you feel a bit better.

B: “Why haven’t you told anyone? I’m sure Steve would have his parents pay for your insurance, or at least help you out. Shit I can even do it from Cal—“

Y: “you shut your mouth Billy. I want to do it on my own. I want to get out of here and I want to live knowing I don’t need help. I want to prove to them I can do it.”

You had put your finger on Billy’s mouth to quiet him and now realized that was a bit awkward. You tried to move it away but he grabbed it and kissed your hand. Cue the HUGE blush.

B: “there is nothing wrong with asking for help babe, but I understand. Just know you don’t have to do it alone.”

You were damn near shaking. How was this the same Billy Hargrove?? The one who pushed a kid in a locker and threw someone lunch on a crying freshman??

Y: “California really did you some good huh…”

Billy smirked and leaned in a bit, his hand still holding yours.

B: “definitely made me realize somethings I should have seen a while ago.”

Your foreheads were almost touching. He moved a hand to your non bruised cheek and gently stroked it with his thumb. You tried to ask what he meant but it just came out as a “mmm?” He chuckled at that but continued.

B: “I finally realized that I was an ass to keep people at bay, so they didn’t have to suffer me and my problems. The people I cared about most I was the most cruel to, because I didn’t understand why I cared so much. Because I didn’t know what love was. I didn’t know I loved you, Y/N but now I know I still do.”

His lips gently touched yours as a tidal wave of emotion swept you both up. Tears fell as you desperately held on to him during the kiss; like he was going to float away in the emotion. He chuckled at your desperation and held you close. Pulling away you didn’t want to risk going too far…you were still…untouched. God knows he wasn’t so you decided to save that for another time. Before you could speak he finished his confession.

B: “I know you probably don’t know how to love yet, and I’m okay with that. You don’t need to tell me you’re in love with me if you don’t know what it means. I just wanted you to know, I’ve loved you for years.”

——————————-

Okay! That’s the end of part two! I’m gonna try to make it one final part after this but there might be two. We shall see. Feed back is always appreciated!

Part 1 // Part 3 (Final)

[innuendostyles]

Umm maybe Ben exploring his ‘feminine’ side more????? How bout him asking u to paint his nails? Or him asking if he can wear your makeup? Idk thought it would be cute hahah

ben wants to try something different

2.8k -> masterlist

waking up next to ben was one of her favourite things on the planet. something about the way his hand would rest underneath her shirt (if she had one on) and rub small circles under her breast settled her like nothing else could. she normally woke up to ben cooing to her, usually murmurs of how beautiful she was when she slept, or if she’d overslept it would be gentle reminders of where she had to be - which was why she was surprised to wake up to dead silence.

she yearned to feel his hands on her skin, as she was so used to, but instead, her hand simply rested in ben’s. her palm face down on ben’s larger hand while he traced one pointer finger over her freshly manicured nails. they were painted a pastel blue colour, completely matte except for a shimmery top coat applied to her ring finger. she’d been on the phone ben while she was getting her nails done, asking him what he thought she should get done when the nail lady asked her what colour she’d like. he asked her what clothes she had on at that moment, to which she replied a light blue jumper that had a sparkly carebear printed on the front of it. he simply gave a ‘well then…’ and told her he’d ring her back when she was done. so to see him admiring her fresh set wasn’t surprising.

his eyes flashed to hers as she roused herself from sleep, carefully removing her hand from his to wipe the drool from her chin. he gave her a light chuckle as her body strung completely taught before laying entirely limp back on the bed and stretching her arms across his chest. she clung to him like a koala, pressing a couple of kisses to his neck when she had enough energy.

“you like my nails?” she whispered, pressing one final kiss to his neck before sitting up.

“yeah.” he chuckled, resting his hand on her hip as she reached to the bedside table to retrieve her phone.

“i’ll make some breakfast.” she said, leaning down to place her hand on ben’s cheek before leaving the bedroom.

she walked down the stairs, calling for frankie as she reached the bottom step, happy to receive many sloppy kisses to her face when she bent down to give the dog her favourite behind the ear scratches.

there was a pink bottle stuck in her mouth, which y/n speedily removed and wiped on her t-shirt to get rid of all the dog spit. it was her nail polish, a cheaper dupe of some dior varnish she’d seen on instagram. the colour, effectively called ‘cha-ching cherry’ was a hot pink, and she’d bought it purely because it was on sale at the drugstore and reminded her of the dior version.

“how’d ya get this, silly girl?” she cooed to the dog, stamping kisses on the top of her head. she wondered how she even reached and opened the polish in the first place, she was sure it had still been in the plastic wrap it came in when she went to bed last night… no, it definitely was. she remembers placing it on the shelf next to the tv when she emptied her bag after she came home. so how had a three year old dog opened protective packaging? it was a mystery to her. instead of going full sherlock mode, she cracked some eggs into a pan and discarded the thought to the back of her mind.

she had to shout ben downstairs, which was unusual, because normally he’s downstairs as soon as she is, offering to help her make breakfast and playing whatever music he was in the mood for over the apartment speakers. he came down the stairs looking rather sweaty and she wondered what he’d been up to. looked like he’d just run a fucking marathon, but he was still dressed in his pyjamas (a pair of calvin kleins couldn’t be classed as pyjamas, surely?) so she knew that answer was out of the equation. maybe he’d been brushing his teeth super violently. she knows that’s not true when he goes to kiss her cheek as a good morning and she shies away from him with a ”morning breath!” and a playful grimace. he chuckles at her, bending down to pat frankie on the head.

he got frankie’s food ready before even realising he had a plate of eggs and fruit waiting in front of him. he sat at the rather small dining table, pouring them some orange juice and handing her the glass once he’d finished. even gave her a little more than he had, because he always complains she doesn’t get her 5 a day.

he just wants her to feel happy and healthy! can he complain, when she treats him so well and even leaves his eggs on for a whole minute longer than hers because she knows he doesn’t like it when the yellow is all runny? when she takes care of a dog that originally was the shared pup of him and his ex?

he has no time to think before she’s giggling a little, pointing to frankie in the corner of the kitchen who had somehow managed to eat all her food and drink all her water in the space of 2 minutes. he giggled as well, taking a bite of his eggs and calling out a ”good girl” to the beagle.

“yeah, well our ‘good girl’ somehow managed to open my new nail polish and came to me this morning with it in her mouth like it was some sort of present she bought! might have to start calling her father christmas!” she jokes, taking a bite of banana before breaking some off and making a kissy sound to garner frankie’s attention before placing some on the floor next to her for the dog. she did love her banana.

ben places his hand quickly onto his thigh beneath the table after he caught sight of it on top of the tablecloth, hoping she hadn’t noticed how quickly he made the movement. she simply furrows her brows at him, tilting her head as she asked if he was okay.

“yeah, ‘m fine just got a cramp.” he lies straight through his teeth, not being able to look her in the eyes and instead offering frankie a piece of watermelon to frankie, which was unusual for him as he never gave his food to her, claiming it ‘only gives her a bad tummy and then i’m the one who has to clean up all the sick she leaves on the bathroom floor!’, which y/n notices and gives a sigh.

“ben.” she deadpans, setting the banana peel down.

he removes his hand from his leg and sets it upon the table, in a fist originally, before he unclenches his hand and then she sees it. his ring and middle finger nails are painted pink. he looks carefully at her reaction, even though there isn’t much to go off, just a look back to his eyes after she’s seen his hand.

“are you… angry?” he questions, eyes still avoiding hers.

“i’m not angry at you for using my nail polish without telling me ben…” she says with a slight chuckle, her face looking awfully confused, “...what’s mine is yours, and all that.”

his eyes flit to her’s at this, a brow raising as he asks, “so you’re not… weirded out?”

she can’t actually tell if he’s joking or not until she looks at his hands, where he’s nervously pulling at his knuckles in hopes to make them crack. it was one of his worst habits, something he only did when he was really going through it. she realises he must have been embarrassed or feel ashamed when she tells him she wasn’t, if the way his shoulders fell from near enough above his head showed her anything.

she decides he wants to leave the conversation at that when he picks up his fork and begins eating his eggs, looking a hell of a lot less stressed than he did before.

“why were you so sweaty when you came down before?” she questions, though she’s careful to make her tone sound as least judgemental as she possibly can, offering an inquisitive smile at the end.

“i um- wanted to get it off. before you saw it.” he purses his lips before he speaks again. “i couldn’t find any of that horrid-smelling remover stuff so i was trying to scrub it off with that lemon exfoliating shit you’ve got in the shower. worked up quite a sweat.” he chuckled, and she smiled at his first genuine laugh this morning.

“ben, why did you think i’d care so much?” she asks, and she can actually feel a pain in her chest as she realises it must have been eating away at him all night after his reaction to her seeing it. the pain in her chest only deepens when she hears a muttered, “i thought you’d think it was … really weird and like… not normal.” he continues, his voice getting louder and louder as he carried on, “cause it’s like… a girls thing. and i’m not a girl. and i know you’d never think that i was stupid or weird so i don’t even know why it ran through my head cause i did it last night when you went to bed and i was still downstairs… i saw it and i just wanted to put it on me like… for fun. and then i thought you might be angry at me for opening it so i just went to bed but i couldn’t sleep cause i was worried you’d be annoyed at me so i just… spent all night looking at yours. your nails, i mean.” once he’d finished rambling, she reached a hand out to his, pulling him along until they’d settled onto the sofa in the living room.

her on her back against the arm rest, with him on his stomach laying between her legs. maybe not the most flattering position on her part, but she felt closest to him this way. she reached a hand up to his hair, running her fingers through the golden locks before sighing.

“ben, i need you to listen to what im gonna say really closely, yeah?” she whispered.

he nods, and she takes that as her cue to continue.

“it isn’t ‘a girls thing’. and i’m not angry at you, and you’re right, i’d never think you’re weird for doing anything ever. i love you, and i’m in this for the long haul, so speak to me. tell me when you wanna try new things. ‘cause you know i won’t be angry, or annoyed, or weirded out… because it’s you.” she could see his eyes softening as he stared directly into hers.

it felt like he was reaching deep inside her mind and pulling out every honest word he could find. he laid his head down on her stomach, before giving a simple, “i love you.”

“do you want me to paint the rest of them?” she asked after a couple of minutes of stroking through his hair.

“please.” he replied, and she felt his smile on her stomach as he heard frankie pattering through the doorway and coming to lie on ben’s back to join them both. he lifted his head up and formed his lips into a kissy shape, to which she leant down and pecked him.

he followed her into the kitchen to retrieve the nail polish, clapping like an excited kid as she led him upstairs. she walked into the bathroom and sat on the countertop, ben bringing a chair from the bedroom to sit in front of her. she spread her legs and placed his hand flat on the surface of the counter, protected by an old sheet of newspaper in case of a polish accident.

once she’d painted one hand, he rested it on her thigh, only beginning to stroke it once she told him his nails were dry enough. she’d finished his other hand, commending her own painting skills as she skipped the two nails he’d already done the night before, he kissed her thigh, just below where his dry hand sat, before lifting himself off the chair to press a kiss to her forehead, then her left cheek, and finally her lips. she pulled her head back as soon as she felt how dry his lips were, telling him he needed some vaseline.

he looked behind her, seeing her collection of lip products before picking up a familiar tube. it was one she used constantly, which meant it must have been good, which was the reason why he asked her to put some on him a couple of seconds later.

“vaseline isn’t the same as lipgloss, but i’ll let this one slide, my dear.” she chuckles, opening the tube of clear, strawberry scented lipgloss. it had a slight shimmer to it, especially when in the sun, and she was unbelievably excited to see it on him.

“i only picked it cause it tastes nice.” he mentions before she has the chance to apply it.

“ben! you’re not meant to eat it!” she scolds, pulling back and taking the applicator with her.

“i know! i don’t do it purposefully, i just get a mouthful sometimes after you snog me.” he says,

smiling when she laughs.

“yeah, well i think i might have to see just how it tastes the next time we snog, which i have a feeling might be in just a second.” she smirks before applying the gloss.

[mcfreakin-bxtch]

Lovely

Pairing: The Mandalorian x Reader

Warnings: Angst

Word Count: 1.3k

Requested: Yes | No

A/N: Ask and ye shall receive. This one is purely in Din’s point of view, the next and final part will be a little back and forth I think. Thank you for all the love and support for my writing! I am still working back and forth between my originals and requests so fear not, but, as always, my requests and taglist are open

Out of Love // Start Over // Here

You would be laughing at him right now, shaking your head at the mess he got himself into. Literally. Covered in mud and guts, Din trudged silently to the Razor Crest, head down and every step heavier than the last.

He left you

It was slowly killing him. His heart hung with a thick loneliness, the kind that seemed impossible to ever overcome; he could die any day and the Child would be alone and in even more danger than he already was, and you would never know just how much he loved you and how much he fucking hated himself ever since that horrible day, and his last words would be left in the wind; whispers wisped away in the air, silent and blue.  

The Child also seemed to understand the loss and would wonder around aimlessly in search for your grin and hug. Din would leave the ship, making sure the baby was okay, and come back with bruised knuckles and speckles of blood on his armor.

It seemed to be a constant for him, losing the people he cared about. Some, like Kuill, would probably still be alive and you would still be here, with him, smiling and laughing and looking at him like he was the most important thing in the galaxy; he will never understand the unconditional love you had (have) for him, he didn’t deserve it.

The Child’s gurgles brought his attention back to reality. He made it to the ship, closed the ramp, and put in it hyperspace, all subconscious routine. He petted the baby’s big green ear, giving him his shiny ball. The Child waved his hand at him, smiling around the toy. It was dangerous, being around the baby like this; it gave him hope. Hope that he had no right sharing, no right to feel or experience. Because all’s he done is bad – the Child was the only thing so far that Din felt he had done some good to.

He sighed in frustration when the baby fell asleep in his makeshift seat. He had been sitting there with the Child, still covered in filth, mindlessly gazing at the stars. The days blurred more and more like these: client, bounty, credits, leave, repeat. It was numbing, but it was exactly what Din needed. Being alone with his thoughts was bad enough, dark and consuming.

Din shook his head. No, the Child needed to rest too, and he needed to clean himself up. Shredding off his armor, then his clothes, he glared at himself in the small mirror of the fresher. The man staring back at him was broken, angry, and devastating. There were prominent bags under his brown eyes, his hair was getting too long now, as was his growing stubble, but he didn’t find it in himself to care. This was well warranted.

The warm stinging of the water on his back was the only thing he felt today – or any day for that matter – that actually relaxed him. His tensed muscles gave out a dull ache among the soothing of the water, slowly stretching and opening. These were the only moments where he allowed himself to feel a little of everything. Alone, naked in every way, and quiet. Some nights his sobs would echo among the ship, so dull and lifeless without the bounce of your steps, the sway of your hips as you coyly walked over to him or danced to a song you hummed when you were lost in your thoughts. They would suffocate him, dragging down to the deepest depths of his own personal hell.

He had to stop because if he kept going like this it was going to kill him. Every time he would close his eyes for a second to rest, your face would the first thing he’d see; disoriented, blurred, like you were trying to disappear from his memories. He was destructive enough to keep those memories, letting them haunt him until the feel of his armor was too much, and the helmet was too heavy and he was starting to fucking loathe it and –

He fell with a heavy thud on the hard, cold floor of the ship. Din felt the pain of the fall through his elbows and his knees, but instead of getting back up he curled on the spot. He hugged his knees to his chest, burying his head in between them the best he could. It felt like his heart was literally in pain, every nerve in his body pumping excruciatingly through the grief. He came to the conclusion that it was never going to stop.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

Din surely didn’t need Cara Dune to tell him that. She stood in front of him with an angry frown outside of the cantina – he couldn’t remember the name of the planet they were on – arms on her hips as she assessed the Mandalorian. Even with all that durasteel, it was clear he was still a complete wreck.

“Why’d you think it was a good idea to just start a fight like that?”

Because maybe, if I revert to before she walked into my life, the pain will become more bearable. Maybe, I truly am the monster, the heartless, like everyone thinks I am. I deserve it.

He shrugged. He knew the real reason why, but he wasn’t going to tell her; he wasn’t ready to talk about you.

She sighed. “Mando, I know where she is.”

He audibly froze, fists clenching and heart falling. He wanted to run away, escape this conversation that was bound to come and go back to his bubble.

“Y – “

“Don’t,” he snarled. It came out rougher than he thought it would but didn’t flinch at the annoyed yet worried expression that crossed her face. “Don’t say her name.”

I’m too weak to fight through this. I see her face every day, do not let me hear her name.

“No, you don’t,” Cara retorted back. “Do you have any idea on what you did to her? How fucking shattered she was when I found her? I mean I get it Mando, I do, but it could’ve been handled better.”

No, she didn’t get it. How could she? When she wasn’t the one who fell in love with you, let you open yourself up, only to shatter you over what was always inevitable. How could she, when she didn’t live inside his head, didn’t feel how worthless he felt now over the damaged he’d caused. She wouldn’t understand why he was letting the pain kill him, strip of him of everything he was and built himself up to be. There was a small moment where he did want to tell her all this and more, but instead he said -

“I know.”

There was a pause, and it was then that Din frowned.

“Is…” He hated how weak he sounded. “I- is she okay? Safe, I mean.”

Cara looked down for a second, and he immediately knew something was wrong. His body went on autopilot, grabbing her arm and giving it a little shake.

“Cara, tell me. Now.”

She glared at him until he backed off, shaking her head at him. “Look, she’s gonna hate me for this, but she has gotten herself into some trouble. And it’s the kind of trouble that you’re quite familiar with, where she’s going to need some help.”

His blood ran cold. Of course, he left to protect you from this kind of danger, and you’d be the first to run headfirst into it.

Din barely gave Cara a chance to say anymore before he was rushing towards the direction of his ship, looking over his shoulder to make sure she was following.

Tags: @scarlett-berserker​, @justlovetoreadfics​, @lil-baby27​, @mando-vibes​, @beepbeepyabitch, @that-void-witch​, @im-the-music-whore​, @certifiedhunter​, @softpedropascal​​, @hejahockey​, @okaydacre​, @lemongrove​, @appreciating-chase-brody​, @iwontforgettheapplepie, @mybabyboytony​, @olyamoriarty, @pcrushinnerd​, @elusive-ivory​, @dizzydazed​, @bluejeancntrygrl​, @dadzawas-eyebags​, @moonstruck-witchy​, @our-mrlangdon, @parody-the-emi​, @evalynanne​, @purplewaterbird​, @angel-hunter-winchester​, @tedpicklez​, @pascalisthepunkest​, @coffeeandtodd​, @blunt-cake-yes​, @agoldin​, @ben-is-a-hoe​, @peacedreamer14​, @snokesthrussy​, @lustriix​, @readsalot73​, @longitud-de-onda​

[littlemeowyoons]

Bonded

A/N- It’s my first time posting my writing on Tumblr but I guess better late than never huh, so here you go. More is in work so please anticipate a lot.

~Fay

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Fluff(lots of them), a drop of angst, Single Dad! AU, College! AU, Introvert! Yoongi, Tutor! Y/n

Word Count:1.7k

Synopsis: Yoongi found a basket left in front of his dorm room one day, and turns out it was his daughter, left alone crying. Puzzled and scared was an understatement. When his 4 semesters roommate Jimin left for his hometown, he was left with the last straw of help, turning to his physics tutor a.k.a friend-that-I-only-know-name-but-have-no-interest-in-knowing-more ; you.

Series: Masterlist ll Part 2 lI Part 3

                                           Part 1: Distress

                                            °•. ✿ .•°

“Why own a fucking iPhone when you can’t even answer a fucking call?! Dammit!”, he breathed hard after his nth tempt to connect the line failed again, his own Samsung device was clutched tightly in hand, knuckles turning white from the pressure. Yoongi had reached that point where smashing the black covered device in hand to the wall was considered a bliss, but he was saint enough to convince himself otherwise. Not when his phone was his gateway out of this mess; the only way maybe. So he tried again; redialing the numbers, manually even.

 “I swear I’ll shred your trench coat to pieces, fucking im-“

The end of the line connected midway his constant ranting.

“Oh thank God above you finally answered! What took you so long?”

“Ever heard of Bio lecture Yoongi?”, the soft voice at the receiving end answers calmly, though Yoongi knew the person was beyond annoyed.

 Who wouldn’t? Multiple spam in all form of communication, texts, kakaotalk, Instagram dm; at this point, Yoongi wanted to settle down to those damn pigeons. Even Yoongi would be out of his head if it happen to him, not that it will happen in the near future or anything.

“Don’t outsmart me woman, I’m not in the mood.”

“What is it Yoongi? You know I have class at this time of the day”

“I need your help”, his breath came out breathless than ever.

“Fuck if you’re asking about the same kinetic and potential energy chapter, I’m gonna rip all my nonexistent and existent  hair out of my-“

“Please…”

                                        ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ:⠀ ⋆.:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ☾

You swear it took you everything not to scream out of frustration watching your phone blow off during lecture period. Plus, the same ID that keeps popping up on the lock screen adds the bitter taste. Once your professor said the word ‘thank-‘, you were already making your way out of the hall, books not even properly shoved in bag and you were sure you left your favourite baby blue Sharpie highlighter behind.

Once in the hallway, you yanked your phone out of your sling bag and slide the screen harshly, already embracing yourself for the upcoming questions and constant groaning. What you did not expect is the person on the other side panting heavily, desperate. Yoongi sounds…distress.You were still processing his jumbled words but once the word ‘please’ escaped his mouth, you froze.

That word is so rare to even pass-through Yoongi’s head, what less say it. The last time you remembered the word ever exist in his sentence, was the day he consulted you at the cafeteria. Head down, full frown and shoulder slumped was some few giveaway you could collect which equals to one thing; failed test.

You were used to people asking you questions, since you were one of the few alphas in curriculum areas. But having Yoongi, the junior of Art and Music Department, Majoring in Music Production asking you to be a full-time physics tutor is…well, unexpected. You pity him, that poor boy seems like he couldn’t breathe for goodness sake, not until you lean back to your metal seats and smile softly, not forgetting to nod along while you utter the word that Yoongi seems dread to hear, ‘Sure, when?’

You swear his eyes shine like a good measure 60 watts light bulb. But that was long time ago, you lost track how long it was though you were sure it won’t be more than a year now, hearing that Yoongi is in serious problem was the main pushover to your muscle cells.

The thing is Yoongi never beg, ever. He never sounds that desperate even when he got 5 per cent on his last two physics quiz, he never sounds this discomfort.

“I’ll be there in five”.

                                          ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ:⠀ ⋆.:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ☾

You almost lost a footing while climbing the stairs up the boys’ dormitory, but you didn’t stall behind. Once room 103 is in front of you, you proceed to reach out to knock, when you heard an infant’s cry. You froze, chest rising in rapid beat from all the runnings.

“Yoongi?”

The crying was still there, you glance to check the neighbouring room number on the door, confirming that the room in front of you indeed belongs to Yoongi. So you crossed your heart and decided to knock, after all, you go with the concept YOLO. The door opened to reveal a hopelessly in despair Yoongi and a small woven basket on his dinner table, the moving mauve blanket shows that he wasn’t alone in the room, physically anyway.

Though the facts were right in front of your eyes, your mouth was sealed from emitting any word, what less sounds. You just stand there, at his doorstep, mouth agape. The cried were getting louder and the small tiny hands rising from the woven basket was doing nothing other than deepening the frown on Yoongi’s forehead.

“Come on Y/n, say something…”

Once his words registered in yourself, you took a last glance to Yoongi, before backing away into the hallway and sprint off.

“I need to go.”

“Y/n wait!”

No no no, this is bad. He thought Y/n would be different, thought she’ll understand but turns out, she ran away.

“Just…just like Hyoju.”, Yoongi whispers.

The cries from behind him gets louder and he snapped to look at the one sole thing that currently gives him a headache.

“Can you fucking shut it?!”

Yoongi growled but then retracted away from the dining table, against the wall and sliding down on his back until he reaches the floor. A sudden seed of fear bloom in his chest,

“What am I doing, am I already out of my mind? He’s just a baby, what does he even know?”, Yoongi sigh while standing and dragged himself to the basket, brushing along his slender fingers through the baby’s thin hair; his baby. The living being right in front of him is his own making, an act done without even considering about the effect. In this case, Yoongi can admit that he’s one of the few to be blame, maybe THE ONE to be blamed, fuck he was so drunk that night he can barely remember her, the mother of his child, Han Hyoju

The baby’s crying subsided a little as soon as Yoongi’s fingers make contact with the head, as if the touch of a 10-minutes-ago-newly known-father is proof that it’s safe for the little one.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what to do”, he whispered because it was a fact.

Yoongi was never a fan of kids, he was never a person-type, a typical signs of an introvert. His only source of never-ending help support is none other than his roommate, Dance Major Park Jimin. He helps Yoongi realize that age is just numbers, Yoongi; as a hyung, two years older, seeks more advice than he wants to admit. This whole two years living with Jimin, the topic of conversation never goes off if it didn’t start with Jimin encouraging Yoongi to get some sunlight on him to which Jimin always said, as Yoongi quoted “We don’t need a walking paperwhite corpse walking around campus, hyung. Go out and get some air would you?”.

 It’s just that Jimin’s happy go lucky trait as well as his naturally warm smile is enough to blooms a friendship unlike Yoongi, who people would just point fingers at and said ‘cold, harsh and rock dead’ just by a mere look. Jimin don’t, however. That’s how Yoongi opened up a little to him. But now, that said roommate can’t help him, being on the other side of Korea, back in Busan his hometown for four days(though Yoongi doubt he won’t prolong it) limits Yoongi to ask for any favour to his friend. The kid in front of him will die of thirst first if he waits for Jimin. That’s what left him to his other only friend; Y/L/N Y/N.

But Yoongi could understand what you did, how you act. It’s because both Yoongi and you didn’t share more than three sentences, or on some lucky days short bickering outside of your tutoring hour. He only knows the basic things for someone to be an acquaintance; name, major and room number(because it slipped your mouth once when texting your roommate), but other than that, zero-knowledge. Jimin insisted that he asked more, to what Yoongi always dismiss, he’s too shy or scared, or maybe both.

Though Yoongi knew so much, he still labels you as a friend, which means a name listed in his life whereabouts, significant enough for him, not a nobody. He wanted to smile thinking that you’re indeed a friend to him, but it falters upon remembering you retreated away.

“I’m doomed…”

A sudden burst of the door jolted Yoongi, retracting his hand that once was playing with the baby hairs on his child’s head. You walk in, head high and face determined. You dropped off your school bag by the sofa, the usual place when you hang around Yoongi’s room after tutor session. Yoongi was overwhelmed, all his senses went numb, why did you return?

“Yoongi, does the baby comes with a bag, a pouch, anything other than the basket?”, you already made your way into the kitchen, but Yoongi still got a perfect view of your side profile from where he’s standing.

“Umm-“, Yoongi snapped out of his short trance and reached out for the mustard yellow beg that was originally in the same basket as his child when he first opens his door this morning, “Is this it?”

You glance over to him and nod, motioning him to hand it over. Once the bag is in your hand, you unzip it and pull out a baby bottle. Yoongi just watched in awe as you mixed baby formula, Yoongi assumed the grey paper bag you brought with you contained the powder formulae. He knows he shouldn’t be gawking like that, but he’s completely amazed, the fact that you came back had him racked his brain for a reason why, and now you’re going through all of this just to feed his kid. He felt small. Once the formula milk was done, you walked towards the living room and straight to the dining table, where the baby is. The red face of the baby shows just how long it had been crying.

‘Poor thing.’,  you thought. You put down the baby bottle on the table, hands reached out to swoop out the crying baby and puts the nuzzle near the mouth. After some effort, the baby takes in the nuzzle into his mouth and right away the rooms fell into a deep silence.

“Aww you poor thing, starving huh? It’s okay it’s okay. I got you.”,  you cooed.

Yoongi stood there dumbly, watching you feeding his own child, still confused but for sure, extremely grateful. Now if only explaining is easy enough.

[pynkhues]

5 and 11 from the October prompt list! 🙃

“I might just kiss you.” / “It’s not always like this.” 

+ anon prompt: Alright I know you probably have a bunch of these but I have a prompt for Playing House. Prompt: Rio has a really tough day at work(like real shitty) and Beth senses it even though he tries to put on a brave face for her and the kids. She does/plans something to make him feel special and loved.

(This was actually originally just based on your prompt, @lilliloves, but anon prompted this today and it fit wonderfully, so I hope you both don’t mind sharing!) 

Set in The Centre and Circumference / Domestic Fic universe

(Early-ish. Probably three or four months after I Could Be Your Welcome + See You in the Light)

-

There’s blood at his knuckles.  

Ain’t the first time, and he’s sure it won’t be the last, but still – he finds his gaze fixed briefly on it anyway, flexing his hand, feeling the ache in it already. His skin ain’t split though, which means the blood belongs to the guy in front of him, this wiry fuck who’s already spat out two of his teeth on the floor between them, drool oozin’ out of his mouth, so thick with blood it’s almost black, and ain’t that a picture, Rio thinks, resting back into his heels.

His gaze flicks to Demon, and it’s all it takes for him to start rolling the silencer onto his gun.   

“No, please,” Vinny moans, squirming back against the chair, hiccupping, feet leavin’ smears of dirt against the concrete floor of the warehouse. “I’ve got a family, I’ve got kids.”  

And sure, Rio thinks, rolling his head back towards Vinny, keepin’ his face carefully blank. There’s a chill in the air, but Rio ain’t feelin’ it, not in here, not with the heat of the fight still thunderin’ through his veins, not with the righteous fury still boilin’ in his gut because shit, none of them should even be here, none of them would if it wasn’t for Vinny. Rio raises an eyebrow, pulling his expression into a look of faux care.

“Yeah?”  

“Yeah, yes, they - - I have - - my eldest is barely six years old. You know Emily. She’s just started school, she - -”   

“You think about her when you stole my product?” Rio asks, voice lowly drawlin’. “You think about that little girl when you took out the connect?”  

At least that’s enough to shut the fucker up, leave him splutterin’ on his own blood like he’s bein’ waterboarded, and Rio just watches him. Watches the lines of his throat twitch, his blackened eye swelling shut. He remembers getting shawarma with the guy. Remembers beers at Cisco’s. Thinks he might even remember the guy’s daughter for real – blonde, dimpled, all puppy fat cute like one of his sister’s old Cabbage Patch Dolls.  

Mostly though he remembers this fuckin’ trip. Remembers sending this guy, days ago, out to pick up pills from Marta in Canada only to hear that the pills were gone and Marta was dead, and this fuck was nowhere to be found, and shit.  

Marta had kids too.  

“Rio, man, please. I fucked up, I know that, I - -”  

Rio gives Demon the nod.   

*

Demon offers him a cigarette, but Rio shakes his head, pulling his keys out of the back pocket of his jeans as he watches Diego hurl his guts up onto the concrete a few steps away. Kid’s pretty new – can’t be much older than 21, but both Dags and Bullet had vouched for him. Said he was loyal, quiet, got the job done. They’d worked with him on one of their smaller side hustles, and Rio figured what the hell. New blood could be good for the operation. This sorta trial was always good for the new intake too – let them see what waited for ‘em if they got in their egos, if they thought they could pull one over.  

And Rio had been impressed enough. The kid hadn’t complained, had helped get Vinny here, even thrown a few good punches and helped Demon clean the body of any prints or DNA before gettin’ rid of it. The vomitin’ was a good sign too, for a kid this green. Death should matter. Should scare you. It means you treat it serious. Means you ain’t cappin’ people without cause.

It’s what keeps you kickin’.  

“A drink then. Fuck, I need one,” Demon says, and Rio flicks his gaze back to him. “Back to the hotel?”  

And he probably should. Their rooms are already booked, paid for. They’ve been stayin’ there for a few nights – had crossed the border and holed up as soon as Rio had gotten word of Marta, knowin’ just how quick they had to move to pull Vinny out before he could burrow too deep. Knew how quickly this situation needed handlin’.  

Elizabeth hadn’t liked it.  

Had done that thing where she’d tried to come with him – goin’ so far this time as to pack a bag and put it in the trunk of his car, plant herself in the passenger seat, and he’d practically had to drag her outta the thing. It hadn’t been until he’d told her she needed to stay to look after the dealership, the drops, keep business runnin’ that she’d agreed (although she’d still been prickly at that).  

Truth was, it hadn’t just been business – although he couldn’t exactly deny it’d been good not to have to worry about it, to trust her enough to keep it runnin’ smoothly. Hadn’t even just been about the house neither, although it had been about that too. The kids were still gettin’ used to the new house and the new routine after all, especially hers, and he’s learnt fast how quick those seeds of guilt plant in her when it comes to them, knows how easily they grow, how ripe their fruits are, had known how twisted up she’d get herself if anythin’ happened while they were in Canada and the kids were in Detroit with her sister or her friend or - - worse - - that dumbass ex of hers.  

Nah, it wasn’t just that.  

What it was was he didn’t like her on these jobs.  

Didn’t like her reckless ass ignorin’ plans or mouthin’ off, didn’t like her stormin’ into situations like that face and that body was some sort of armor, and, hell, didn’t like none of these guys lookin’ at that face and that body. Didn’t like them seein’ her, didn’t like them standin’ so close to her, didn’t like the fact that he dreamt of it sometimes. That clenched jaw of hers, somebody else’s gun underneath it, somebody who didn’t have anythin’ stoppin’ them from pullin’ the trigger, and just - -  

Shit.  

Rio rubs at his head.  

He does want a drink. 

More than that, he wants a fuck. Wants to release this livewire of tension in him, wants to lose himself in a body underneath him, but the only body he wants is Elizabeth’s, and he could drive home tonight, but that would mean talkin’ to her. Would mean gussyin’ up to her Bambi-eyed interrogation.  

She’d be in her ugly ass pyjamas, he thinks, and the picture of it comes too quickly.  

Probably the ones he hates the most. The cream satin ones with those little orange flowers. Sittin’ up in their bed, nipples hard, pokin’ up through her shirt, those pale cheeks of hers flushed pink, her eyes a little wet, her hair a mess, waitin’, breathless, for him, and - -  

He snorts.  

Who’s he kidding?   

More likely angrily scrubbin’ dishes at 2am and ready to ask him a million questions he don’t wanna answer. 

Shit. 

Marta and Vinny.  

“You know Vinny’s family?” Rio asks, turning back towards Demon, who nods. “Send ‘em the usual?”  

“50g? You wanna send it cash or wire transfer?”  

Rio tilts his head from side-to-side, considering.  

“Cash,” he decides. “Send a hundred to Marta’s. Deliver it in person. We’re gonna need a new connect for the pills.”  

Demon just hums in affirmation, flicking ash off the end of his cigarette, before he says: “I’ll stick around a few days. Get it sorted. Take it this means it’s a no for the drink?”  

Rio blinks, surprised, hadn’t even quite realised that that was what he was doing, but as soon as Demon’s said it, he knows he’s right.  

Thing is, it ain’t even like Elizabeth’s the first woman he’s wanted to lose himself in after bad days, just it’s barely even about fucking her at this point. Just - - he wants to bury himself in her until she’s all he can smell, until the taste of her skin is hot on his tongue, until he’s close enough to her he can count her eyelashes, and shit, that ain’t a thought he’s used to. Ain’t even one he’s particularly comfortable with.  

Just - - he thinks of another cold night in the hotel alone and tense, and then thinks about bein’ home instead, thinks of her asleep, thinks of not wakin’ her to postpone her questions and the inevitable argument, thinks of crawlin’ into bed beside her, layin’ his head on her breast, the softness of her beneath him remindin’ him of all the ways he ain’t, her heartbeat fluttering beneath his ear, the way, only half awake, she runs her nails down his scalp, the way she smooths her too-smooth fingers at the base of his neck, and it’s urgent suddenly. The need in him.  

He could be there in two hours.  

“Call me tomorrow, yeah? Let me know how you go? Keep Diego with you. Show ‘im the ropes.”  

Demon makes an acknowledging gesture with his hand, and Rio heads out into the night.  

* 

The house is dark when he pulls up, the only light comin’ from the back porch because Elizabeth swears it makes her feel safe (like the half a million dollar security system he bought doesn’t), and it means she’s not expecting him. Means she might actually be asleep. Means maybe she took him seriously for a change when he told her to stop waitin’, stop callin’, that he’d back when it was over.  

He slips into the house, disarming the security system and beelining for the laundry. He kicks his shoes off, washes his face, his bruised hands in the sink, before filling it to soak his bloodied clothes in, adding the disinfectant from the cupboard, and stripping off to his boxer briefs there and then. It had been at Elizabeth’s insistence the first time he’d done this that they add the lock to the laundry room door, just to keep the kids out, and he’s glad for it now, for the ability to leave his shirt there, reddening the water, without worry.  

Running a hand over his face, he grabs a pair of sweats and a t-shirt from the pile of clean laundry in the basket, steps out, fixes himself a drink at the bar cart in the living room, finishes it there alone, trying to steady his hands, his breath, to calm his frayed nerves before he allows himself the comfort of bein’ beside her. Tries to wrestle out of the maw of the last few days, of Vinny’s slack jaw and Marta in a body bag, scrubbing briefly at his face and finishing the last of his drink before starting up the stairs towards bed.  

There’s somethin’ to be said there about the moonlight through the window, the too soft glow of the night outside of here, softening everything in its path, and Elizabeth is right there in the middle of it, curled up on her side in their bed, her hair fanned out against their pillows, bags beneath her eyes like she hasn’t slept well in days, which - - fuck, somethin’ in him twists at the thought, but then – right there, nestled into her chest, is Marcus.  

It’s enough to make Rio stop in the doorway, dig his arm into the doorframe, enough it might leave a mark, enough it pinches. He should leave him, he thinks, slide into bed beside ‘em and leave it be, but then - -  

Vinny’s blood is thick on his hands tonight, the weight of him heavy on his back, and he needs Marcus just - - away from it. Away from him, at least until the mornin’ comes, at least until he’s had the time to put this night behind him, to wash the stench of it off, and shit, he thinks, almost crawling out of his skin, leg jittery with tension beneath him. This ain’t somethin’ to be shared, not with him.  

He strides quietly over to the bed, gently tugging his son out of Elizabeth’s arms, relieved more than anything when Marcus comes easily. He lifts him up, carrying him quietly down the hall and flipping on the light to his bedroom. It’s neat at least, which makes it easy to take him down, to flip over the sheets of his bed and lower his son into them. His head’s barely hit the pillow when suddenly big, dark eyes are bein’ turned on him, the kid’s little mouth fallin’ open like a spell.  

“Daddy?”  

“Go to sleep, pop,” Rio hums, and when Marcus tries to sit up, he gently pushes him back down.  

“You’re home!”  

“Nuh, but I will be tomorrow. You’re dreamin’ right now, yeah?” he keeps his voice low, dulcet, brushes his hands through Marcus’ hair, tucking him back down beneath the covers. “Faster you fall asleep, faster you’ll wake up, faster I’ll be home.”  

And he doesn’t think the kid really believes it, but still, Marcus hums sleepily, happily, back at him, his eyes driftin’ shut again and Rio just - - watches him. Watches the rise and fall of his chest and the flutter of his eyelashes and he thinks how easily he could never see it again, like Marta won’t, like Vinny, and just - - shit.

He rubs a hand hard over the back of his head.

Not worth thinkin’ about now, he tells himself, slipping back out of his bedroom and heading back towards his own. It’s only then that the exhaustion really catches up with him – hits him square between the shoulders like somethin’ out of a cartoon, and he swipes at his forehead as he heads back towards their bed, gaze only flicking up to see Elizabeth sleepin’ soundly, the soft curve of her body like an invitation, and his eyes travel too easily down her, from her peaceful face to the arc of her shoulder and the dip of her waist, the long trail of her legs and - - he just - -  

Stops.  

There’s a lump at the foot of their bed, tangled up in the sheets, and Rio steps slowly towards it, eyeing off the mound of it when the lump squirms back suddenly, and shit, Rio thinks. He rolls his eyes, reaches for the blankets, lifting it just in time to see Jane peer back up at him, dubby in her fist, her little face scrunched up, half hidden in a bunny rabbit onesie and it must be a hand-me-down from Emma, because she’s swimmin’ in it.  

“’ey,” he hums, and Jane blinks up at him, bright eyed, before she pants like a dog, wiggles her butt, goes to bark, but Rio frowns, pushes a finger to his lips and jerks his head to where Elizabeth is sleeping. 

“Don’t wake your mama up. C’mon.”  

He holds his hands out for her to leap into, only she pulls her face into a little scowl, shaking her head.  

“No,” Jane growls, and Rio rolls his eyes again, frustration sparking in his belly.  

“I ain’t playin’, darlin’, c’mon. It’s way past bedtime.”  

And Jane just - - shit, she sticks out her tongue, and Rio exhales sharply, feels the stress of the day and the exhaustion of tonight press hard at his temples, but he smooths out his expression as best he can, reachin’ over to her, only she’s trying to tangle herself up in her mother’s legs, and Jesus, Elizabeth must be real tired if this don’t even wake her. Before Jane can get herself too wrapped up, Rio moves closer, pluckin’ her out of bed by the back of her onesie and pulling her unceremoniously away from Elizabeth.  

He intends to lift her straight up into his arms and walk her to bed like he’d just done Marcus, but Jane starts thrashin’ the second she’s in the air, and shit, Rio grunts and then he’s gotta loosen his grip or he might accidentally hurt her, but loosenin’ his grip only serves to make Jane spring off the bed and sprint down the hallway in a flurry of pink fleece and animal ears. Behind him, Elizabeth stirs, and Rio’s head whips around, waiting for her to resettle before he moves quietly to the doorway. Jane’s standing at the top of the stairs, her little face peering out from beneath her bunny rabbit hood, and Rio frowns at her, gesturing his head to her bedroom.  

Jane shakes her own head furiously in reply, and Rio exhales sharply, stepping out into the hallway, unsurprised when Jane retaliates by clutching at the railing and starting down the stairs, and shit, he thinks, picking up his step. The booties on her pyjamas are so big she’s gonna trip herself up, tumble head-first over them. He moves quickly enough to grab her underneath the arms and when she starts to yelp and thrash again, he spins her quickly in his arms, until they’re practically nose-to-nose.  

“What’d you want?” he asks her, staring her down, because shit, his nerves ain’t here for tantrums tonight, and Jane just looks back at him, long and hard, little jaw rockin’, and this kid really is somethin’ else, and as much as he hates to admit it, if he were in a better mood, he might be amused.  

“Special drink,” Jane settles on, and Rio arches an eyebrow at her, about to tell her it ain’t the time, but then - - shit, Elizabeth’s concoction of milk heated on the stove, honey, cloves and cinnamon really does seem to knock ‘em out. Maybe he can ground in a Nyquil to help. 

“Then you go to your bed?”  

Jane nods, and Rio does too, resignedly pushing her onto his hip and taking the stairs two at a time until he hits the bottom. He thinks about just depositing Jane on the couch, lettin’ her watch somethin’ bland and g-rated on the TV, but then he doesn’t really trust her not to sneak up the stairs, back beneath Elizabeth’s arm, and if she gets there again, Rio’s knows he’s gonna be subjectin’ himself to the couch.  

So he deposits her on a stool at the kitchen island instead, glancing around the kitchen only to stop when he spots the pot on the stove and the spice packets already on the bench. He walks over, grabbing the pot and looking at the thin rim of milk build-up cooked into the sides of it.  

“Looks like your mama already made special drink,” he says, rinsing out the pot and Jane just shakes her head. 

“She made it for Marcus, not me,” Jane tells him. “She always makes it, so it’s not special anymore. It’s just regular drink.” 

Rio arches an eyebrow, glancing back at her.  

“That right?” he asks. “But it’s special drink when I make it?”  

“Yup.”  

And shit, she might be right. He ain’t ever made it before, and at least the fact that Elizabeth’s already made it for Marcus tonight means the ingredients are there for him. He racks his head for the steps, for the muscle memory of havin’ watched her make this thing a million times before, and - - right, milk on the stove. He grabs a jug from the fridge.  

“Your hand looks funny.”  

Rio glances over at Jane as he moves to flick the stove on, that damn blanket of hers half shoved in her mouth, the floppy rabbit ears of her hood hangin’ down past her shoulder. He looks at his hand and the bruises really are bad – a dark, bloomin’ purple that he knows will only stiffen over the next few days. Will swell and throb and he resists the urge to shake it out.  

“Yeah?” he asks, and Jane rocks her head from side-to-side, considering.  

“It’s like when I felled over. Did you felled over?”  

“Fall,” he corrects, and when he looks over at her, Jane’s blinking at him in confusion, her blue eyes wide, her lips parted. He clarifies: “Did you fall over? Not felled, darlin’.”  

“Did you fall over?” Jane echoes, and Rio turns back to the milk on the stove, reaching for the cinnamon. He looks at his knuckles as he shakes in the spice, and wonders if he should’ve worn gloves, somethin’ that might’ve covered them from view.   

“Somethin’ like that,” he replies, capping the spice cannister, and it takes Jane a minute to reply, like she’s processin’ it, workin’ out what she want to say, and Rio lets her, his gaze fixed down on the way the cinnamon turns the colour of the milk, brownin’ it up. He blinks and sees the cinnamon, he blinks and he sees the blood on Vinny’s pale cheek.

He grabs the packet of cloves.   

“Is that why you went away?”  

Shit, how much of this stuff does Elizabeth usually put in? He shoves a finger into the packet of cloves, nudging them around, and finally scoops out a handful, watchin’ them bob around in the milk.

“What’d your mama say?”  

“That you had to work.”  

“Your mama ever lied to you?”  

“No.”  

“So I was workin’,” he tells her easily, glancing back around to look at her, and it ain’t exactly sudden, seein’ Emily in Jane’s place, propped up at the kitchen island, but it still takes him by surprise, makes him rock his jaw, jerk his head away, try to focus on the simmer of the milk and the sound of Jane’s feet, thumpin’ against the chair.

Jane ain’t Emily, she ain’t gonna lose a parent to this. She - 

“When my daddy goes away for work, he brings us presents home,” Jane says, and Rio snorts.

Okay, maybe she’ll lose one parent to this. Rio can’t exactly say he’s keepin’ Dean off any lists. Shit, might be addin’ him to a few. (Not really, although - - he ain’t rulin’ it out). Still, he shifts his weight back, grabbing a spoon to scoop in some honey.  

“Yeah? Like what?”  

“Like candy or dollies.”  

The honey oozes off the spoon into the milk, like Vinny’s bloodied drool to the concrete floor, and Rio’s voice is duller than he means when he says:

“Huh. Why you think he do that?”  

Jane pauses, and the question must surprise her, her little mouth hangin’ open for a moment, until she shoves the dubby in it instead. Rio has to resist the urge to tug it out, had made that mistake only a few weeks after movin’, had had to endure Jane’s hysterics and Beth’s frustration (“She only started doing it after Dean moved out, it comforts her, just - - leave it, please.”)   

“I don’t know,” Jane replies now around a mouthful of blanket, and Rio hums, grabbing her sippy cup off the strainer and pouring in the milk, making sure it’s not too hot in the process. He puts the top on, and glances at her, considering. He could just give it to her here, but in the end he holds up his hands, and Jane moves easily into them this time, lets him carry her to the couch, lets him hold her as he flops down on it, her body sideways in his lap, cradled in his arms like he’d do when Marcus was a toddler, like he still does sometimes, when he’s sick or needy.  

And it’s funny, coz Jane fits like Marcus used to. Kid had a growth spurt recently after all, overtakin’ even Emma, and it all serves to make Jane all the tinier. Like her aunt, Rio thinks, briefly amused, then – more so, huffing out a laugh – like her mama when she finally pulls her pumps off at the end of the night.

(How big are Marta’s kids? Does he even know?)

“Order’s up,” he tells Jane, passing her the cup and letting her wriggle up until she’s practically using his arm as a hammock, her legs sprawled out across his own. She takes a generous drink only to reel slightly up.  

“Yuck,” she says, spluttering, and Rio groans looking down at her, grabbing the cup and taking a sip, only to cough because shit - - it’s bad. Way too much cinnamon, enough it tastes almost like ash in his mouth, and maybe he’ll just leave it out entirely this time. Can’t fuck up just milk and honey, can he? He moves to get up, to make another, when Jane suddenly snatches at the cup again, clutching the sippy to her chest before shoving the nozzle back into her mouth. “No, I like it.”  

And figures, Rio thinks, arching an eyebrow down at her as she wriggles back against his chest, sucking on the sippy cup, her eyes already half-lidded. He feels his own lids drop too, like they’re playin’ some game of Simon Says (go to sleep), and he could almost doze himself when Jane reaches the hand not holdin’ the cup out to his. She pushes out a tiny pointer finger and taps him on each of his bruised knuckles and he just - - watches her do it. Watches this scrap of Elizabeth play the hand he broke Vinny’s jaw with like a piano.

“Marcus and mommy are upset at you,” she says suddenly, half muffled around the sippy cup, and Rio’s gaze shifts from their hands to her face, but she ain’t lookin’ at him. She’s lookin’ at their hands, and after a minute, he sighs.

“I know,” he tells her. “They don’t like it when I gotta go away like that. I don’t like it neither, but sometimes I just gotta.”  

Jane sucks the nozzle back into her mouth, staring up at him now, her eyes unblinkin’, and he always thinks it’s her sister that looks most like Elizabeth, but this one doesn’t go without, not with the steadiness of her gaze and the set to her jaw.

“It’s three,” she tells him, and Rio blinks down at her.

“What’s three?”  

“Three times you gone away.”  

Whatever he was expecting, it wasn’t that, and Rio stares at her, unblinking now, as Jane holds up her hand.

“Just after we moved here,” she ticks it off on her fingers. “Then the other time, now this time. That’s three.”  

And shit, she ain’t wrong. He mostly thought Jane barely noticed. Not like anyone would ever mistake her for the most perceptive of Elizabeth’s kids (not that any of ‘em really are), but Jane’s all energy and distraction and shit. He’s been busy. He’s always busy, and Marcus has never liked it. Never liked the fact that sometimes he just gotta move, gotta bring things back, gotta handle things, but - -  

“It’s not always like this,” he says, and Jane looks up at him, and there are too many expressions that pass over her round little face – disbelief and childish frustration until it finally settles on somethin’ else, somethin’ softer, less certain, somethin’ he ain’t seen on her face, at least not somethin’ he’s seen directed at him.  

“You didn’t say bye,” she says finally, her voice small, and Rio exhales, annoyed.  

“I did, darlin’,” because he did. Shit, got to fight about it with Elizabeth and leave Marcus red faced and weepy, made sure of that, but then - -  

He looks at Jane and any self-righteousness dies on his tongue.

“Not to you though, huh?” he says softly, and Jane shuffles back into his arm, presses her forehead into his chest, out of sight, the nozzle of the sippy cup sucked into her mouth like a bottle, keeps herself looking away from him, and Rio exhales. He looks down at his bruised hands, then at her feet, where the booties of her onesie hang limply down the side of the couch, her feet lost somewhere in the legs of the thing, the hood of it hangin’ so far down her face it almost covers her eyes, and he reaches up to tug it back, just enough he can see her.  

“’m sorry. Think maybe I’m still gettin’ used to this,” he says, because he hadn’t said goodbye to any of Elizabeth’s kids. Had trusted her to do it for him, had treated them like they were just a part of her, but - -

They ain’t.

They’re - -

Well.

Fuck.

Jane looks up at him, her eyes a little glassy and just - - he ain’t sure what that is, the feelin’ in his gut, hollowing itself out. “Can you be the first one I say hey to instead?”  

She makes a show of turnin’ it over, her squirming against his chest and drinkin’ that goddamn awful drink he’s made her, but then she nods, and Rio tugs on one of her rabbit ears.  

“’ey, Jane,” he says quietly. “You been good for your mama while I been gone?”    

And she grins a little at that, shakes her head into his chest again, giggling before she can stop herself, and Rio smiles too, but rolls his eyes.  

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”  

He almost reaches out to her, but before he gets the chance to, Jane wriggles up his body, curls her arms around his neck, and Rio leans down, scooping her up closer, feeling her collapse sleepily into his chest, still slurping at that drink, and hell if that ain’t commitment. He exhales a laugh, dropping a hand to her back, and it practically takes up the width of it, and he can’t say what he feels, feelin’ the rise and fall of her chest against his, her snufflin’ breaths against his shoulder.

And it’s hard enough, but then he exhales and he hears Vinny’s last one, and his hand tightens on her back, and he just - -

Needs to put her to bed.

Needs her safe and happy and dreamin’ of her mama and Paw Patrol and out of his nightmares, and when he stands up this time, starts up the stairs, when he finally does put her to bed, she don’t make a sound.

And then just, tuckin’ her in - - all his energy’s gone, sapped out of him, and any jittery tension he’d needed to lose has gone cold in his chest, left him pulled thin and stretched out, and shit, he thinks, rubbing furiously at his forehead, it’s just - -

Just is, he reminds himself.

There wasn’t a way around it. Not a way that’d keep him and his safe.   

And he can do this for his ma, he can do it for his sisters, he can do it for his son.

Can do it for Elizabeth and her kids too.

Can - - he exhales, leavin’ the thought alone, pulling his hand away from his face, grabbin’ the sippy cup from Jane’s iron grip instead and droppin’ it to her bedside table so it don’t soak through her sheets, flickin’ on her nightlight before slipping out of her room.

And it figures, that Elizabeth would be awake now, when he finally gets back to their (freshly) childfree bedroom, her blue eyes blinkin’ sleepily back at him, from her - -

Nah, he realises, his pillow.

“You put the kids to bed?” she whispers, pushing herself up onto her elbow, and Rio nods stripping off his t-shirt, arching his back, hearing it crack.

“You’re home earlier than I thought you’d be,” she adds, and Rio nods, padding over to the bed. He should leave his sweats on, knows he should, but for whatever reason, he can’t quite make himself. Just wants to be rid of them, rid of his underwear, rid of all of it. Wants to shower, but doesn’t have the energy to, so instead he just strips everythin’ off, sliding into bed beside Elizabeth.  

She doesn’t complain for a change, doesn’t squawk or pout or nag him to put his clothes back on. She just watches him, her blue eyes too clear, her features drawn.  

“Is it done?” she asks, and Rio sighs.  

“Would I be home if it weren’t?”  

It’s sharper than he means it to be and she looks a little wounded, and Rio exhales, because shit, he’s the one who don’t want this fight. Just looks at her for a moment, and it ain’t fair, that she can look this sweet, that her eyes and her body can sing like a siren in the night, callin’ for him across borders, across countries, callin’ him home, and he reaches a hand to touch her face because he wants to - - needs to feel her, but shit, it was the wrong move, because she’s gaspin’, grabbin’ his hand instead, a high-pitched sound escaping her throat when she sees how bruised it is.  

“Let me see it.”  

He yanks his hand out of her grip, curling it around her waist instead, pulling her beneath him, entangling their legs, hidin’ his hand half up her pyjama shirt.  

“Are you hurt?” she asks, and he can tell she wants to squirm out of his grip, to try and flip ‘em over so she can look at him properly, find somethin’ to nurse, but she ain’t got a clue how hurt he actually is, so won’t do it, and for once, he don’t want to correct her.  

“Keep askin’ questions and I might just have to kiss you,” he drawls, the to shut you up implied as he nestles his face into her chest, nosing between the buttons on her pyjama shirt so forcefully that the tip of it brushes the inner curve of her breast, inhaling deeply the faint smell of sweat and peach bodywash and that smell beneath it all that’s just her.  

“You say that like it’s a threat,” she replies, the words light, jokin’, but her tone ain’t real, and he knows she’d let him, but he also knows she don’t want him to. That she’d give him sex tonight like a gift, and that’s not how he wants this, not with her, not now. He just - -

Shit, he just wants to hold her, but he don’t know how the fuck to say that.

She inhales above him, a little wet, a little damp, like she might be cryin’ a bit, and she says, “Rio, what – ”  

He sucks in a breath, clenches his eyes shut, hand tightening on her waist.

“Not tonight, darlin’,” he says, his voice hoarse, cutting her off, and then - - because how can he say the rest of it? He just says: “Please.”  

The word hangs between them, and then it’s those too-soft fingers of hers, pressin’ tentatively to the back of his neck, and he exhales, harsh and wet against her breast, sinking his head heavily down against her chest, his mouth open as her fingers firm there and he knows she’ll be back on this shit tomorrow, that he’ll have to tell her somethin’, that he’ll have to make sure that money gets to Marta’s kids and to Vinny’s, that the compensation will be nothin’ but he lets Elizabeth massage the guilt out of his neck for now and finally he lets his eyelids flutter shut.   

[permanantheadache]

It’s officially the 5th where I am! Happy DEH Gift Exchange! @sincerely-us My person was @iellostar Hope you like this!!

The prompts were: evan and connor on a road trip. like, to set the scene: like those aus of people running away and disappearing when they turn 18. And: Connor comes out to his dad and it doesnt go well, he goes to evans and heidi and evan comfort him and its super sweet and cute.     And, like....for the art I did the first one, but...I kind of also did fic. Because I was worried that this drawing wasn’t very good. So, I combined the two prompts and made the fic below. It’s also on Ao3

Connor is smiling. It’s a gentle thing, this smile. Warm, happy. It’s Evan’s favorite, even though it’s the rarest.

Evan has been watching this smile form for the past hour. The further they get away from civilization, from all the drama waiting for them back home, the more relaxed Connor gets.

Anxiety and anger and stress leach away from his face, softening the line of his shoulders until he’s practically slumping in his seat.

“You’re staring,” Connor says. It’s not a complaint.

“I have a cute boyfriend,” Evan counters anyway.

Connor rolls his eyes, but his cheeks turn pink. “No, you.”

The road around them is deserted, which is how Evan’s anxiety likes it. This is the main reason he doesn’t protest when Connor takes one hand off the wheel to lace with Evan’s.

Evan pulls their joined hands up to give Connor’s knuckles a kiss.

--

It’s Heidi’s idea, originally. Long before Connor and Evan are even dating, she suggests that the two of them take a roadtrip, the summer before college. She thinks getting away from the stress of school and work, as well as their peers, might do them a lot of good.

She references Evan’s pin map, the one he abandoned at the beginning of the year--he’s replaced some of the old pins in their spots, as well as adding new pins to places that Connor mentions he’d like to see someday.

Heidi’s pleased that Evan’s retaken up his old habit, but she’s a little too smug about those new pins for his liking.

They have nothing to do with his crush on Connor, mom!

Not…not that he has a crush on Connor.

…

Okay, yes, he’s completely gone on Connor.

Thankfully, as Evan finds out later, Connor reciprocates those feelings!

But that’s a story for another time.

Connor is completely on board with Heidi’s idea, once it’s brought up to him. He’s perfectly happy to spend some time away from his family, especially if Evan’s there. The three of them make a cautious plan that, the month after graduation, Connor and Evan will hit the road.

Heidi, after nearly thirteen years of single-parenthood, is a master at budgeting. She helps them plan out where they’ll stay and the costs. It’s more than a little confusing to both boys, but to Connor especially. He’s shit at math and numbers.

Between their two jobs, and Heidi and Connor’s mother helping, they should be perfectly fine, money-wise, to do what they’d like.

“I wanna go to Bear Mountain,” Connor tells Evan.

Evan blinks, surprised. “I mean, me too, but isn’t hiking more my thing?” His eyes widen and he tries to backtrack. “Not that I think you don’t exercise! I just--”

“Let’s be real, I don’t exercise,” Connor scoffs, cutting Evan’s panic off at the knees. “But it’s in On the Road and you know I’m a hoe for anything to do with books.”

“Yeah, but you’re my hoe.”

“...”

“You know what I meant, asshole!”

--

They end up having to move up their timeline by a week. Because Larry and Connor get into their worst fight since the beginning of the school year.

The thing is, Connor and Evan have been open about their relationship to Heidi since the very beginning. And they tell Cynthia not long after. Both women are, to put it lightly, overly supportive of their relationship. It’s genuine, but Connor can tell that some of Cynthia’s furver stems from guilt. And because Evan and Connor have been mentally healthier since they became friends.

(They both still have their bad days. Some are worse than others. But, it helps. To not be alone.)

Unfortunately, Cynthia broaches the topic of telling Larry.

And she keeps bringing it up.

It takes two full months of convincing before Connor agrees to tell--if only to stop her nagging him.

Because Connor is a realist, he expresses his doubt to Evan. Larry has never been the most accepting--even about things that most straight, white men at least tolerate.

Connor won’t say that he’s worried, per say. But he’s got a bad feeling in his gut. And his gut is rarely wrong.

--

Connor has an emergency bag stashed at the Hansen house.

The first time that Connor has a fight with his family, post-becoming-friends with Evan, Connor crawls in through Evan’s bedroom window. It’s the middle of October, and freezing, and Connor has on shorts and a thin shirt. He’s shivering, in rage and because he’s cold.

After Evan gets done shrieking at the potential burglar, he loans Connor some sweats and makes him hot chocolate. He gets down all the spare blankets and make a cocoon in the living room.

Connor spends the night. The sweats are too short, but he wears them anyway. They don’t talk about what drove him to Evan’s house. They watch Food Network in near comfortable silence (though Evan can’t stop the worried look he keeps aiming at Connor, and Connor can’t fully relax until he’s passed out).

Connor crawls through Evan’s bedroom window three more times before Heidi (having caught on after the second time) gives him a spare key and a suggestion that he keep extra clothes in Evan’s closet.

“We’re always happy to have you over,” she tells him gently, closing his hand around the key she’s put in it. She’s smiling, her gentle amusement crinkling her eyes. “Just, maybe use the door?”

And so, there comes to be a small backpack filled with just enough clothes for an overnight visit and something for the next day.

At first.

Over time, the contents of the bag shift, as Connor comes over for impromptu sleepovers--and, as he and Evan became closer friends, more scheduled sleepovers--and switch out the clothes for fresh ones.

Eventually, Evan, kind of tired of how over-full the bag is getting (he keeps tripping over it when he needs something from the back of the closet), cleans out the bottom drawer of his dresser and puts all of Connor’s things in there.

It feels like something permanent, Connor having his own drawer in Evan’s house.

--

Connor drives, half-blind from the angry tears streaming down his face, until he reaches the familiar street that the Hansens’ reside on. He probably parks crooked.

He doesn’t care.

His hand is shaking as he pulls out his phone.

Connor: Im outisde

Fukc

Im outsidee

He can’t fucking type properly because his hands are shaking and he’s crying too hard and he hates this he hates his dad he hates himself he hates--

“--hey, Con, hey.”

He didn’t hear the car door open. Evan’s blurry figure is beside him, close but not touching. Connor nearly lunges to pull his boyfriend against him, immediately burying his face in Evan’s neck. He desperately needs the contact.

Evan is good at hugs.

(When Connor brings it up, their first month of dating, Evan goes deeply red. But he hugs Connor even more after that, so he counts it as a win.)

He breathes in Evan’s scent, a woodsy floral thing that never fails to send some signal to Connor’s brain that he’s safe . That, paired with the shaky hand running over his hair, practically hard-resets all the tension in his body.

He doesn’t know how long he stands there, curled around Evan’s body, but eventually he finds himself pulling away. “I fucking hate crying,” he grumbles, voice crackly from tears. He scrubs at his face roughly.

Evan pulls Connor’s hands away from his face. He keeps holding them. “C’mon, you can wash your face. And you’re probably dehydrated now, so I’ll get you some water. Otherwise—”

“—otherwise I’m gonna end up with a migraine,” Connor agrees. He’s suddenly exhausted. He allows Evan to lead him inside.

—

Heidi is on the phone when they come in. Her back is to the door, so she doesn’t see them right away. “Yes, Cynthia, of course I’ll look out for him. Yes. As long as he needs to be here. He’s like a son to me.”

Connor can’t hold back the intake of breath at her words--she actually seems to mean them. It makes his chest ache. His eyes burn anew.

Heidi turns at his small noise. Her eyes go wide, and then soften with sadness and affection. “He’s here Cynthia. I’ll have him call you later.” She puts down the phone and immediately gathers him into a hug. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry.”

Connor crumples in her hold, going limp against her. And, he finds, he is not quite done crying.

There’s a brush of another hand on Connor’s back. “I’ll go get you that water,” Evan says gently. He leaves the two of them alone.

Heidi leads Connor over to sit on the couch. He sits, curling against her like a little kid. She’s patting at his hair. It’s nice.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Connor shrugs. “Did my mom tell you what happened?” he asks, after a moment. His voice is scratchy as hell.

“She said that you and Larry had an argument.”

He scoffs. “That’s putting it lightly.”

She waits for him to go on.

“I just.” He sighs. “You and my mom and Zoe--you guys were all happy when Ev and I got together. I wanted. Part of me just wanted Larry to at least…accept it.” He laughs. It’s not a happy sound. “It’s not like I’ve ever exactly hidden the fact that I’m not super hetero.”

“Sometimes we’re blind to things we don’t want to see,” Heidi says gently.

Evan sits down next to them, placing three cups of water on the coffee table. He takes Connor’s hand again.

Connor chokes on a sob. “I don’t get why the hell it hurts so bad? It’s Larry , I shouldn’t be so cut up about this!”

It’s Evan who speaks, squeezing at their laced hands. “He should’ve been supportive of you. It’s not your fault he’s a--a shitty human being.”

“I don’t want to see him,” Connor confesses. “I don’t--I can’t…”

“Well, you’re staying here, honey,” Heidi says, firm. “As long as you want. Cynthia is sending Zoe over with your stuff in the morning.”

“I’m sorry. I’m shoving all my garbage off on you guys.” He feels like such a burden.

“Hon, we care about you. The people in your life that care, they help carry anything you can’t.”

Connor sits up, rubs at his running nose. Evan hands him a glass of water. He drinks half of it down. “‘M tired,” he says.

“It’s late,” Heidi agrees. “You boys should go ahead and lay down.”

Connor and Evan are still holding hands as they make their way upstairs. They curl up together on Evan’s tiny bed, but neither of them sleep yet.

Evan is tracing circles across Connor’s back with his free hand. His voice is quiet. “How would you feel about leaving this week, instead of next?”

Connor slumps in relief, giving a brief, jerky nod.. “That would actually be perfect.” His hold on Evan tightens. “I don’t…I can’t stay in the same town with him. I think I’ll lose my shit if I see him.”

“Valid. I think I might punch him if I see him.”

“Babe.”

“I’m serious. He hurt you, I hate him.”

--

They’re driving down to Harriman State Park, their first stop--mainly due to its proximity to Bear Mountain and the Appalachian trail.

It’s sunny, but not hot. It’s the perfect temperature for a hike. At least, according to Evan.

Connor has to sit down on a rock twenty minutes in. He’s sweating buckets and glaring at Evan. Evan is entirely too cheerful. “How are you so upbeat?” Connor whines. He reluctantly accepts an offered water bottle. “Don’t you hate sweating?”

“Of course I do, but when I’m sweating because I’m doing something I enjoy, it doesn’t affect me as much.”

Connor smirks behind his water bottle, giving Evan a raised eyebrow.

“Oh shut the hell up, you know what I meant!”

“Do I?”

“I’m not the one wearing black!”

--

The sun is just beginning to set when they make camp. Which is something that Connor actually knows how to do.

Those few years in Boy Scouts that Larry forced him to do are actually useful.

Connor scowls. He’s not going to think about Larry. He’s on a trip with his awesome boyfriend and he’s not going to let anyone ruin that. Not even himself.

It’s still early enough in the summer that night time is significantly cooler. It’s the perfect temperature for cuddling. Evan and Connor take full advantage and curl up together.

“Jeezus ,” Connor squeaks, flinching away from the icicles currently assaulting his legs. “Why are your feet so cold?”

A somewhat devious giggle slips out of his boyfriend. “I have p--I have poor circulation?”

“How come I haven’t noticed this before?”

“I usually wear socks at home, but I’m not going to sleep in sweaty socks. That’s gross.”

Connor heaves a long sigh and submits to Evan sticking his freezing toes all over his shins. “You’re lucky I love you.”

Evan hums happily and says, far too seriously, “I love you, too.”

It should be a big moment, them saying those words to each other for the first time. But, Connor likes this better. He likes that they’re calm and pleasantly sleepy from the long drive and difficult hike. His muscles ache in a good way (though he won’t likely feel that way come morning). And he is cuddling with his boyfriend, who loves him.

He snuggles more firmly against Evan and drifts off to sleep.

[cheryllcher]

Marinette: Guardian of the Miraculous

part 2

i have too many wips but im writing something else again :)) (woes of a writer/artist/just creators don’t @ me here)

so my brain clearly isn’t prioritising so here’s a really very long lil one shot based on this post i found by @aly4son and it’s pretty cute and fluffy. i decided to make some changes and add some stuff here as well becuz i love fluff hope it’s okayy. this took pretty long becuz i had to figure out how to put everything together ://

and as it stand it is getting way too long so im gonna have to put up a second part whoops.

—

“Hmm… Add a little of this…, a drop of water from the Dragon’s Tears Fountain… Oh, don’t forget the edible glitter…”

Marinette was adding different ingredients to her pot, swirling her wooden spoon at the same time. She was preparing for her final test before she was officially declared the new Guardian of the Miraculous. However, she needed a break from all the formulas and power-up functions. So, she decided to continue playing around with the concoction she’s been working on for weeks, hoping to complete her experiment that afternoon. She knew she could just finish it after her test, but she could feel that she’s so close, and was eager to observe the results.

Ever since she started learning the recipes of the power-up potions, she wondered what other power ups she could try making, if it were possible. She’s been trying over and over again, playing around with different kinds of ingredients. She’d even brought some items from the bakery, if only to give it a little taste and colour. (And also to test a theory of whether it can be used to make power-up potions. It did work out in the end, but only some foods.) She remembered Chat mentioning that Plagg hated those power-up cheese (said it tasted like “liquidy goo you humans take when you’re sick”) and decided to mess around with flavours.

“And… Done! Tikki? Up for another round of taste testing? I think I’ve got it this time!”

“Of course, Marinette! I’m curious though, why did you add the glitter?”

“It’s for flair, for the potion I’m brewing. If this works, you’ll see why I wanted glitter in there.” Marinette threw in a wink, and dipped a little spoon inside the pink, glittery liquid. Tikki floated towards it and took a sniff, noting the scent of champagne coming from it. I wonder if kwamis ever get drunk, didn’t think we’d try that before in all the time we spent in the miracle box.

She quicked sipped the delicious brew, and immediately felt a tingling sensation.

“It’s happening! It worked!”

In a flash of pink, Tikki transformed, her usual self now a sparkling crystal-like texture, her centre spot and tail (?) now dazzling diamonds.

“Wow… Well, what power up is this?”

“It’s called the Elegant power up, ooooooor Exquisite. Haven’t really decided on the name yet. It’s just a little fun power-up I came up with, you know, like a fancy dress transformation.”

“Cool! I’m sure Kaalki would love to try this power-up. It’s glorious.” Tikki laughed at her own little joke.

Oh, how she wished she could snap a photo of Tikki, but kwamis don’t show up on cameras. It was a great accomplishment, and she was really proud of herself. Specially created with an original outfit designed by her, a sketch of the design slowly added into the mixture while it boils. (Another absurd theory that flitted through her mind.) Never thought this crazy idea would work but here we are.

“Alright, I’m going to try transforming. Ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be, Marinette!”

“Elegant Tikki! Spots on!”

The familiar feeling of transforming washed over Marinette, yet it feels completely different at the same time. The swirls of pink magic disappeared to show a red cocktail dress with exquisite black sequins scattered on silk, the fabric a darker shade of red than what she usually wore. Extremely fancy indeed.

A Mandarin collar wrapped around her neck with a mini brooch which had a symbol engraved into it, a representation of her Chinese heritage and the pattern associated with the Miraculous. The top half had black polka dots, embodying her super-persona’s namesake, along with a matching mask and gloves, both of which had intricate embroidery. Her hair was pulled up into a stylish updo, braids twisted to form a crown above her head. Her red heels has little ladybugs on them, just like the one in her hair. Just how she imagined it.

“Wow, this is even better than what i would have done!” Marinette twirled around, noticing that the outfit has a litte glittery shine to it. Now she wish she would get to wear this someday; she felt like a princess! (Well, it was pretty funny because Chat would always call her civilian self that.)

In the midst of admiring her work, Master Fu walked into the room. His eyes widened at the sight in front of him, and Marinette shrieked, quickly transforming back to her usual self.

“Ah, sorry Master! I was messing around with an idea I had and I completed it just now. Don’t worry, I was practicing potions before that.”

“I’m not mad, Marinette. On the contrary, I’m actually very pleased that you have managed a feat that even my masters were unable to achieve back when I was in training with them. Perhaps I could show it to them when I return for a visit.

“In the mean time, how about you use this power-up for your Guardian officiating ceremony. It is something to celebrate after all and you deserve it.”

Marinette didn’t know what to say. She just thanked the master profusely, grateful for the opportunity to try out her new invention. She didn’t bother trying to refuse because she knows that there would still be one no matter what she says. Master Fu simply waved it off with a chuckle.

“Now, would you like to have your final test today or prefer to still wait for tomorrow? I feel that you are ready.”

—

School was still a priority, being in senior year and all. Marinette could only work on designs during her free time, and with Hawkmoth around those are scarce. Marinette would sometimes sketch out ideas besides finishing her homework, for fear if forgetting them. She absolutely hated it when an idea struck while she was busy fighting an akuma.

Good thing was, she didn’t need to worry about measurements. The miraculous will ensure that everyone’s suits and dresses would fit them to a t. So all she had to do was make sure that the designs represented each of the holders perfectly.

Tikki wholeheartedly agreed that Marinette deserved to be celebrated as the new Guardian, she hadn’t had a holder who was a Guardian since millennias ago. She was positively buzzing with exhilaration, moves animated with so much zest Marinette was afraid she might explode.

Chat was the first person she told about becoming a Guardian. He was surprised, after all he wasn’t aware of her receiving training, but that was short-lived as he immediately tackled Ladybug in a humongous bear hug for her sensational achievement. He even said, and I quote, “My, I’m honoured to be graced with the presence of the great and powerful Guardian of the Miraculous Box,” topped off with an exaggerated bow and a kiss to the knuckles.

He was also ecstatic about the prospect of a new transformation. Ladybug told him to assure Plagg that she had added a different flavour to it, and will add some cheese to his batch on top of infusing it in his beloved camembert. That night, Plagg denied purring loudly in his sleep. (“You were dreaming, Adrien. Hallucinating!”)

Three months of constant sketching and resketching, coloring in and retracing it for the potion, Marinette finally got the designs out. She asked the kwamis for their opinions on the designs, (after a mini celebration of their own, obviously.) and they gave their input. Some even made flavour requests, though they still kept the champagne in there as they loved it and it made the power-up more fancy.

Then it’s another week of measuring, mixing, and carefully infusing the correct batches into the different snacks. She almost put Wayzz’s herbal tea flavoured potion into Pollen’s honey comb, if not for Tikki and Wayzz’s interference. Oh, the look of horror on Pollen’s face would send Plagg laughing with tears.

With everything ready, it’s time to paaaaaaaaartay! (Clearly Xuppu was here :) )

—

With the help of Chat Noir, they managed to get the miraculouses to the respective holders’ rooms before they arrived home from school. She handwrote all the dissolving letters containing the information, taking care to use her cursive. Those online lessons really paid off, even Tikki couldn’t recognise that she was the one who wrote it.

Ladybug hid behind a rooftop as she watched Max open read the letter, coming to the conclusion that everyone else is doing the same. She hoped that she had made her instructions clear enough, considering how… excited some of her classmates could be.

—

Everyone was confused when they found a box in their rooms, realising soon after that it was a miraculous box. Alya and Chloe immediately opened their boxes, paying no mind to the paper that were below.

“Oh, finally! Ladybug is giving the Miraculous to me! It’s about time.”

“Trixx! Does Ladybug need me?” An extremely loud gasp, “Oh my gosh, is she here? Do I get to hold on to my miraculous?”

The kwamis questioned had to clarify that no, Ladybug was not nearby as there is no emergency, no, it was only for a few short hours, and no again, the miraculous was technically not theirs but “belonged” to the Guardian for safekeeping unless they are permanent holders. They were only temporary holders who are called upon when their help were needed.

(Ladybug and Master Fu had them make sure they got it through their heads after getting irritated when some people kept begging for it again. And also to inform those whose identities were compromised that it was their last time using theirs.)

“Please read the letter before you do anything, Alya.”

“It contains some important information that you really must know before you call upon me, my queen.”

All holders read through the letter:

“Dear [Name],

I hope this letter finds you well. I’m to be officiated as the new Guardian of the Miraculous, and it would really make my happy if you could join me tonight. Along with your miraculous, you will find a small snack for your kwamis. It is to be consumed strictly before transforming, so do not waste it as I’ve only provided a small piece.

You will transform tonight at 4am, going going to the address listed below. Don’t worry, the kwami will be able to help you with that. I know it is late but this is to ensure no reporters or your parents will see you sneak out. Hawkmoth rarely comes out at night anyway, so that’s a bonus.

Chat Noir and I are greatful for your contributions as the heroes of Paris, so we would also like this to be a celebration of thanks. Hope to see you there!

Signed, Ladybug

Address: 53 Rue de Corentin, Petit Fortune Hôtel 3rd floor”

The letters dissolved with a flame of green sparkles, kwamis reaffirming the chosens that they know the address and will help them navigate.

[angrylizardjacket]

eyes on the horizon {Ben Hardy/Reader/Roger Taylor}

Summary: The reader’s pregnant; she knows she has to tell Ben and Roger eventually.

A/N: 1447 words. Discussions of the concept of pregnancy and pregnant!reader. (pokemon kids voice) What’s That Genre?! It’s [redacted].maybe fluff idk, a little drama, a little angst, have fun?? i lost the original prompt. i also have a few more ideas for pieces surrounding this (including an angst one which im a bit obsessed with omg) i’m also not too crash hot on the quality of this one so feedback would be appreciated!

From the moment you find out, you feel like you can hear a clock ticking. Perhaps it’s counting down; counting down as you wait in line at the drug store checkout after waking up nauseous for the fifth day in a row; counting down the two minutes you have to wait for that infuriating little piece of plastic to give you potentially life changing results. Roger complains sometimes about the world being too fast nowadays, too efficient, and the two minutes is up and a second blue plastic line appears, winding you though you’d been expecting it, you think, in some strange way, he might be right. Most likely, you think, it’s counting the seconds until you’re pretty sure your world’s going to change forever, and you might just lose two of the people you care most about.

The clock ticks loudest when you’re with them, when you’re watching Netflix together and Roger’s draped himself across both of you and you’re running your fingers through his hair. He smiles up at you, booping your nose as the next episode loads, and your answering smile is tight. The show’s theme song is playing before he can really worry about it. 

It ticks when you’re sitting across from Ben at the table, and you’re both still in your pyjamas, he’s eating a banana and you’re nursing a coffee, and he catches you looking through him, rather than looking at him, focused on your own thoughts. He asks you what’s wrong, confused, even a little concerned; you’d been acting weird for almost a week now and he hadn’t wanted to push but-

But ‘it’s nothing, I’m fine’ comes more easily to you than the truth.

He leaves for his set, and you leave for yours, and Roger’s still asleep but there’s a fifty-fifty chance he’ll show up at around lunch at either one of your shoots, but part of you hopes he’ll spend the day with Ben if he does.

Things are going so well right now, and it’s the only thought in your mind when you’re waiting for your name to be called by the barista currently making the director’s coffee order. The rush of steam, the clinking of mugs, and the chatter of patrons makes a beat in your mind to the ticking only you can hear. You tap your foot in time to it, trying to talk yourself out of the conversation you knew you were going to have soon.

They both know you’re sick in the mornings, that nausea sometimes just hits you out of nowhere, that you definitely shouldn’t be working, but you’re claiming illness for the first part, quarantining yourself to the sofa, and it helps that your anxiety eases if they’re avoiding you just a little, to stay healthy; you claim capitalism as to why you keep working.

When you lie, tell them that you’re feeling better, that you’re getting over whatever was ailing you, Ben suggests a weekend away, away from the flat, away from the paparazzi, just away, another town for three days. Though of course hesitant, you can’t say no to him.

And you’d always favoured long car rides for uncomfortable conversations. You’re pretty sure it’s because the driver can’t look at you for too long, it makes you less anxious. 

“So, hypothetically,” you began, worrying your bottom lip as you fix your gaze on the lights of the highway passing you by. Everyone’s a little tired, a little tense; it’s been a long week since you’d taken those three different pregnancy tests in the bathroom of the mall. By now, both men were well aware there was something you weren’t telling them.

“Hypothetically,” though it’s technically an agreement, you can tell Ben’s already unconvinced. By Roger’s hum alone you can hear his scepticism. After a moment of silence, apart from the hum of the car, you realise the ticking’s stopped; now or never.

“Do you guys, like, think about the future?” You ask, carefully casual; to no-one’s surprise, Roger’s the first to chime in.

“Obviously; I’m living some science-fiction fantasy, love, this is the future.” He snorted, but he just seemed amused more than anything, still unsure about how this led back to your mood from earlier.

“I don’t think that’s what she meant.” Ben said quietly, and you made a noise of agreement in the back of your throat. “About... about our future?” Ben’s watching the road, but his gaze on the steering wheel is white-knuckled; he’s already jumped to a million different conclusions, all of them leading to you breaking up with them in this car on this highway.

“The three of us.” You agreed easily, fidgeting and looking out the window.

“I figured we’d just see where it leads; why worry?” Roger says, surprisingly flippant, though he too seems to be slightly on edge, drawing similar conclusions to Ben. Which, at the time, you didn’t realise, far too stuck in your own head to notice their own anxieties.

“Well what if we had to?” You begin, but your eyes widen as you think about what you’d just said, how it sounded, and you finally read the atmosphere; “not worry, not really, just think about the future, that is.”

“You know we love you, right?” Ben’s voice is surprisingly soft, even a little desperate. Something about it, however, eases that quiet anxiety in your chest that you had been trying to ignore.

“Do you guys think about our future?” You ask, and in the silence that follows, Ben pulls off to the side of the road. When the car comes to a stop the three of you are plunged into almost total silence, and somehow this is the single most claustrophobic moment of your life. “I do. I have to.” You admit, and your next words are spoken softly; “I’m pregnant.”

It seems you’ve broken both of them; Ben looks winded and Roger just keeps blinking, his mouth pressed into a thin line.

“You sure?” He finally asks. There’s that fear in your heart again, that anxiety, and tears in your eyes as you refuse to look at them, nodding quickly. You’d been so fucking afraid that they’d react badly, and you can feel your heart shattering just a little more-

“Holy shit are we gonna be parents?” Ben’s a little breathless, and sounds absolutely delighted at the prospect. “Like seriously, this isn’t a joke or anything, is it?” 

“Does it sound like a damn joke?” You snap, reeling from the whiplash of the reactions, but when you look at them, both boys are practically bursting at the seams with excitement. Roger practically launching himself over the centre console to hug you, and when he finally wiggles his whole way through and is sitting with you in the back, you’re shaking, wrapped up with him, pressing your lips to his shoulder. It takes you feeling cool air on your back to realise Ben’s gotten out of the driver’s seat to join the two of you. He’s laughing, almost disbelieving, and he kisses Roger’s cheek before wrapping his arms around your stomach, solid and reassuring at your back.

“Holy shit.” Ben murmurs, and you feel Roger laugh. It makes you smile, makes you feel safe in ways you hadn’t realised you’d needed.

“I know!” He crowed, giving you a little squeeze, and it’s enough to snap you out of your shock to let out a giggle. “God, we’ve gotta think about so much- why are their heads so soft?” Roger squints as he babbles, mostly coherent, still hugging you, his arms trapped between you and Ben where the other blonde refuses to let either of you go.

“That’s the first question you have?” Ben asks, and Roger hums thoughtfully, before immediately voicing his next thought.

“No; do we know which of us is the official dad?” He’s blunt about it, and despite the situation, the topic, and your very arrangement, you find yourself blushing as you finally sit up and admit that you don’t. After a beat of awkwardness, Ben rests his chin on your shoulder, the two of you watching Roger as he considered the situation.

“Does it matter?” He asked, and Roger’s face split into a grin.

“Not really.” 

Of course there’s so much to discuss; a movie star, a time-travelling drummer, and a personal assistant? There’s a lot that needs to be worked out, to be considered and talked about between the three of you, and you know it’s going to be hard, that it’s going to take work. You’re willing to put in that work. You’re all willing to put in that work. But for tonight, the three of you are content to celebrate; the future can wait a little while longer.

[edelwoodsouls]

the light behind your eyes

The Magnus Archives, JonMartin, pre-relationship

You'll never go through with it, he said. Watching the blood drip, maybe he doesn't know Jon as well as he thought.

Word Count: 2464

Ao3

inspiration

(this art and this show apparently single-handedly cured my months-long writers block, i only started the show like a month ago, holy shit im in love)

--

The Institute's halls are darker than they used to be.

He's not sure when it happened, really. Just a few short years ago, he could have called this basement home. It didn't matter that he was sleeping there, that his real home was writhing with worms - that wasn't what gave it that comfort, that warmth. But the knowledge that someone was always there, the camaredie of close-quarters living and near death experience...

He misses it. He misses Tim, with his awful sense of humour. Sasha's laugh. Even Melanie's angry tirades about whatever was pissing her off that week.

He misses keeping Jon company over slowly cooling cups of tea late into the night - not talking, not acknowledging each other, simply existing quietly in the same space, an assurance that he wasn't alone-

He laughs out loud at the thought, the sound echoing like a gunshot down the hollow corridor, because isn't that the point? He's miserable, he's lonely, so it must be working. It'll all be worth it.

But still. The corridors feel cold and empty. Even though he knows Melanie is around somewhere, probably using the pages of some ancient research tome as cigarette paper, and Daisy has been haunting the spaces between the stacks for the last few weeks. And Jon, of course, most likely recording another statement and pretending it satisfies that primal itch in his soul that screams for fresh trauma.

It feels more like a haunted, ghostly archive than the home of several nearly-human disasters who should really be banding together for emotional support.

In these moments, with the others sequestered away in their own problems, Martin likes to wander the halls himself. It's so hard to leave the office without making human contact usually, but over the last few months he's come to sense the pathways of the others, how best to avoid their company. Almost like a sixth sense, or - ironically- a third eye. He takes the chances when he can, stretching his legs, letting himself get lost in the ghosts of better memories.

He's not sure if it's voluntary, or a method of making himself feel more Lonely.

It's the early hours of the morning now, not that he can tell without windows. He hasn't seen sunlight in so long, he's sure his skin must be paler than the pages of a Leitner - even turning on the overhead lights makes him squint.

His footsteps echo off the brick. It must be raining outside, he thinks, because there's an odd, sharp smell in the air, damp and cloying. He almost wants to run outside, feel it on his skin. Maybe it could wash away his - his Loneliness? His attachments? Which would he prefer to lose more at this point?

He can't deny the power that slipping through the cracks, going unnoticed but noticing everything, makes him feel.

His feet guide him thoughtlessly, in tracks he's paced a hundred thousand times before. Through the stacks of old statements, still barely organised from Gertrude's original mess - fifty years is a hell of a lot of statements to manage, after all, especially when the mess is deliberate. Past Tim's old desk - it's Daisy's now, technically, but Martin's never really been one for change.

Of course, his feet always lead him to Jon's door.

He hates to admit how many times he's sneaked up to the small porthole window in the door, peeking in to check in on the archivist. He's seen Jon recording statement after statement, seen him staring absently into stone-cold coffee for hours, seen the absent-minded scratching of  burn scars, the many times he's been straight up passed out on top of a mound of files. Only sheer will-power has kept the door firmly between them.

He'll only sneak a quick look, Martin tells himself now, tugging absently at his shirt sleeve. Just to check that the archivist is still alive and breathing - not that anything else is possible now, he supposes.

His thoughts are interrupted by the unmistakeable sound of Jon groaning, a low, agonised noise that sounds forced out involuntarily, through gritted teeth. Martin's heart stutters. For a moment, his feet still. Then he's speeding the rest of the way down the hall and, before he can think better of it, throwing open the door.

Martin freezes. Hand gripped white-knuckled around the door handle, to keep himself standing upright, to keep himself grounded so he doesn't throw up at the sight before him.

That scent is thicker in the air the moment he opens the door, and he realises with a plunging horror that it isn't raining outside, that the stench now shoving its way down his nostrils is metallic and all-too familiar.

Jon is sat at his desk, as he always is, slumped over it, head held in his hands like he's about to fall asleep on the pile of blood-soaked papers below. But it isn't fatigue dragging at him now. It's the steady stream, the waterfall of crimson forcing its way past his palms, curling past his fingers in almost mesmorising, intricate patterns, dripping audibly onto the statements below.

Spread before him among the papers are an assortment of tools. A kitchen knife, a letter opener, a screwdriver - is that a blowtorch? With a sick sense of humour, Martin notices the corkscrew he had kept so closely for protection during the Filth's first attack, now sticky with blood, clutched limply in between Jon's fingers.

His voice cracks as a strangled noise emerges froom his throat in place of words. He swallows down the bile, resisting the urge to clamp a hand over his nose. "Jon?"

Silence stretches deafeningly across the table. Jon doesn't even react to the sound, though his limbs are shaking with a brittle tension.

The corkscrew slips slickly from between the archivist's fingers, clattering on the table like a gun going off, and yet the silence rings louder still. There's an awful static in the air, like when Jon uses his abilities, except now it doesn't seem to stop, doesn't seem to end, just reverberates in his head to the point of pain. Like the very air is crying out silently in pain.

A small sound emerges from behind Jon's hand. He still hasn't moved, hasn't looked up, but Martin would recognise that dry chuckle, tinged with disbelief, any day. It's a sound that's brought him no small amount of delight to hear over the years, even when that disbelief was more indignant and exasperated at Martin's incompetence, because it meant that he had Jon's attention - had, in some way, broken through that stiff upper lip that Jon had once been adamant on presenting.

Now it sends a horrified shiver down his spine. There's no pain in that laugh, just a resignation.

"Martin." The word is spoken so softly he almost doesn't hear it - a whisper, a prayer; a drowning man accepting his fate.

Panic rears, finally, inside Martin's chest like a suddenly startled animal. "Jon, Jon are you okay-" Stupid, stupid, of course he's not bloody okay, but what else can he say, with Jon sitting so calmly as he bleeds out onto his desk? "I'll- uh- hang on a sec, I don't have my phone with me, I'll call the ambulance, oh god-"

You won't go through with it, Martin had said, in a voice as cold as he could make it, as detached and unwelcoming as he could bear. You're a coward, looking for an excuse.

Hit Jon where it hurts the most, cut off any emotional connection keeping them tethered. It's the only way, he told himself, ignoring the sick satisfaction he got from finally scaring Jon the way Jon had often scared him.

He'd really thought he was right, but apparently he doesn't know Jon as much as he thought he did. Or maybe it's his fault, he drove him to this. Who and what has Jon got left, without Martin? Abandoned by those he loves, treated as expendable by Basira, blamed for things he can hardly control by Melanie and Tim, left alone to face that wide, unrelenting eye that pulled their strings.

Jon is far more Lonely than Martin has ever managed to be, and he isn't even trying.

The words continue to fall from his mouth in a panicked babble. "Do you have your phone with you, Jon? Jon? Or did we reconnect the landline after the last attack? I know the hospital ignores calls from the Magnus Institute when possible, but surely they can do something, it's gonna be okay-"

"Martin." Jon lets one of his hands shift slightly, and a trickle of red bursts forth onto the pages. "I guess-" there's that endearing, terrifying laugh again- "I suppose its for the best, that you didn't agree to come with me."

"What?"

"Would've made this a bit awkward, if you'd said yes."

And finally Jon raises his head, and Martin is horrifyingly unsurprised when deep brown irises meet his own. Blood still drips from the nearly-healed whites of his eyes, spilling over like tears. He can see the tissue knitting back together before his eyes, until the only evidence that anything awful ever happened is the drained pallor of Jon's skin, and the sticky wash of half dried blood spread around him like a pool. He's clearly been at this for a while, judging by the dry patches, and the variety of tools at his disposal.

Martin can't take his eyes off the sight. "I..." The words vanish on his tongue like so much smoke.

It's almost worse, he thinks, that Jon is healing so quickly. That the one avenue of escape offered to the rest of them is closed to him forever by the very thing he's attempting to flee. He hadn't regret saying no to Jon, shutting him down, not with the very existence of the human race hanging in the balance - and he still doesn't. It's the mental image of him hidden away in his office, unnoticed, hacking away at his own face for hours without anyone so much as wondering where he was, noticing his cries of pain, that makes him sick with guilt.

"No need for an ambulance, Martin," Jon's face tugs into an awful almost-smile. "I'll be right as rain any second now. But if you happen to have some painkillers, I wouldn't be opposed. Bit of a headache, you see."

Despite himself, Martin lets out a disbelieving laugh of his own. How the hell did they get here? He even misses the long hours of investigation, the haunting paranoia. Even that was better than this resigned certainty of tragedy. None of them are planning to survive this, and if they do? Where the hell can they even go from here?

His feet carry him over the threshold into the office, and he can almost feel the Lonely loosening its clutches, just a little. He offers a hand out, surprised at how steady it remains in front of him. "Come on, Jon."

Oh, how that soft, shocked expression on Jon's face makes his heart break. The fingers that clasp around his feel like burning, an electricity leaping across his skin. When was the last time he touched another person, skin to skin?

It takes a long time to clean up the blood. Martin wishes it could take just a little longer, every touch rekindling an unnameable something in his heart. Sat in the bathroom, Jon is quiet, retreating into himself. His newly healed eyes are vacant. Martin sponges away the crust from Jon's sickly skin, brushes it from his hair, and Jon simply yields to his touch like a doll.

They find a fresh change of clothes in his locker, but judging by the stale air released from the compartment Martin is pretty sure Jon hasn't changed clothes in a long time. When was the last time he took a shower? Brushed his hair? Hell, Martin can't remember the last time he saw Jon eat. Does he even need to eat anymore?

He throws the bloodstained clothes away, and leads Jon back to his office. The statements on the desk are barely legible beneath the crimson, but as he goes to throw them away, too, Jon's hand catches his wrist, the first voluntary movement in almost an hour.

"Jon?"

"I...need those."

"They're unreadable."

"Not to me."

Worrying his lip, Martin silently hands them back, watching as Jon smooths them out carefully on one of the only clean patches of desk. As if he can feel the gaze on him, Jon looks up, finally meeting his eyes once again. God, that softness in his stare is an arrow in Martin's heart. He's painfully aware that he's viewing Jon without any of his walls up, stripped bare, at his lowest. Once he might've considered it an honour that Jon trusted him this much - wanted nothing more, really - but now he just wishes Jon would get angry at him again. It would make this so much easier.

Martin swallows, throat suddenly a desert. "I have to go."

Jon doesn't look surprised, or even hurt, just nods, gaze never leaving his. It occurs to him that the last time they spoke, Jon probably thought it was the last time he would be able to lay eyes on him.

Silence yawns across the room.

"Talk to someone?" It comes out more of a desperate plea than he would've liked. "Daisy, or Basira, or Melanie-" he knows even as he lists them that only Daisy would be willing to bear Jon's company at this point, and she's hardly in any better a place mentally.

"Okay, well..." Words can hardly be adequate enough in this sort of situation. "Don't, uh, don't get too Lonely, Jon?" The archivist's expression sharpens at that. "Before you can't come back from it."

A second of hesitation. Jon nods slightly, jerkily, as if he hadn't even considered the possibilty. "As long as you remember, I'm always here, Martin. I- I trust you, but if you need an anchor... I can be your rib."

"How romantic," Martin snorts drily, before he can think better of it. A flutter of panic ignites in his chest, but Jon just nods, and the flutter becomes something more like hope.

It's not an assurance that everything will be okay. They both know the impending disaster rushing towards them at full speed as they themselves hurtle towards it.

But it's a promise. A thin, invisible cord, anchoring the two of them together.

Today, whatever fresh hell this is, they can take the punches and commit the sacrifices until they're bled dry.

But tomorrow - what if. If there is a tomorrow, any semblance of future? They can take on the world, together.

He leaves the door ajar when he slips back into the corridor.

[iobottle]

atissi

replied to your post

“it kinda makes me sad when artists giving out tutorials on character...”

oh could you talk more about this? :o

ABSOLUTELY thank u for enabling me to go off about designs i love this shit this may get a bit long so its going under a readmore (sorry if ur on mobile i hope it works)

gonna start this off with im no expert Nor have i taken any sort of official art class this is me just analyzing characters from what i found that makes them memorable to ppl (most of these examples are going to be from games sorry i got them on my mind)

ok so basically making a memorable revolves around personality and appearance now theres different ways to go about showing these things and i think from consuming media you like will help narrow down how you wanna go about it, basically thinking about your character inside and out!

SO shapes and hyperstylization is a good way to get a fun appearance across in a cartoon esp media and is often what a lot of artists stress on an example of using shapes and a good silhouette to make a memorable character is sonic!(specifically comic sonic)

(had to google idw sonic for a non...u know image)

but not only do they use lots of triangles for this hedgehog they also made him blue! you’d be more likely to remember a blue headgehog over a realistically colored one!(also almost all of the sonic characters have a combination of fun shape + unusual color to help you remember them! the designs werent afraid to use color to make a bold statement)(he’s also segas mascot so of course they put a lot of work in his design)

now sonics appearance is not the only reason why people like him or remember him so much he’s also got personality! he’s cocky, fast, always getting into trouble, “you’re too slow!”, accompanied by shitty butt rock and a cool guy persona ie he’s got personality! and they weren’t afraid to give him some weird interests(see the butt rock) and he’s not perfect( see arrogance) if youve ever played a sonic game you have almost always remembered the crush 40 theme that went with it

all in all to go with his unusual appearance he’s got some unusual traits! it helps make him believable! admittedly he’s not the most embarrassing of the sonic crew (see knuckles or shadow) but he’s definitely rounded and not boring from an objective standpoint(you can not like sonic or his games i dont care)

(another example of something that requires good shapes is pokemon altho they arent really like very depthy since there are 600+ and some only have like a pokedex entry worth of info but still they have good and memorable designs)

NOW something that doesnt have the most “good shapes” design off the top of my head is link

now in the most recent zelda game his most memoriable physical attribute is that he’s on the androgynous side w his longer hair and smaller build but in his older designs he looked something like this

(art for a loz:link to the past)

not really that much of a striking silhouette, but what do we look at and kinda leaves an impression on us? his hair and hat! its very silly to see someone in such a big green hat with that big of bangs/mullet, the hat at least became so ridiculous of a look that in botw nintendo didnt include his hat in links main outfit bc it was too hard to make look good, its silly! thats good! its fine to have a normal human looking characters because sometimes stories are about humans, but if you want us to remember them include something that will strike us as strange for them

also probably a good thing to note is the noises link makes when he swings his sword, jumps, pushes something, ie any action they have always been something that has stuck with me

(another example similar to this is in mgs solid snake in mgs is this cool super spy but is rocking a full on mullet which is considered a joke hairstyle. this leaves an impression on us. a spy with a mullet! how ridiculous! another example is raiden who was specifically made bc a woman wrote that she didnt want to play as an “old man” so the protagonist of the super spy game is a longer haired pretty boy (with a huge ass))

now ive explained a little on a character with good shapes and personality and a character with a more “boring” shape design that makes up for it with almost quirky design choices but i feel like theres another series thats what originally got me thinking about how even a memorable silhouette doesnt need hyperstylization

ace attorney! (which is out on switch now if u havent played it i would def recommend it)

if you dont know the protagonist is the guy in the blue suit(phoenix), which well he looks like just a guy...with ridiculously spikey hair enough so that in his silhouette you can recognize him but also his posture (the pointing) makes for a sticking recognizable image bc if you’ve played the games you can practically hear objection just from looking at phoenix’s silhouette

which is another thing id like to talk about! not only are a good shape a way to have a good silhouette but posture is also important! how the character holds themselves can say alot about them just from a glance! such as meekness, arrogance, confidence, sadness, anger, happiness its a very important too especially when you arent relying on stylization

now onto the characters of ace attorney ive gone over phoenix's design a bit but theres a few others id like to look at with some Weird style choices that make us remember them(just going to glance over them since this post is so long)

now, this woman, franziska von karma, she dresses kind of strange for a prosecutor but her outfit is not too out there and her silhouette is not striking

but you see that whip? remember how i said she was a prosecutor? yeah she will strike people in court for getting off topic and will even hit phoenix when he starts breaking down her witnesses testimonies, which what literally strikes up about her

another prosecutor, godot, now his hair could provide a somewhat memorable shape but what we first notice is the strange mask on his face which is weird, but not the Same weird as franziska bringing a whip to court thus having both of these prosecutors being Weirdly memorable for different things (another note is his liking of coffee that he does not give up even in court ha ha)

now onto the other protag for the aa games

apollo! who also has weirdly spikey hair, but even if you put a silhouette of him next to phoenix you could tell there some was a difference between the two! its showing a pattern with the protags while also keeping them distinct enough to be able to tell who is who! although you cant say the pointy haired guy from ace attorney and not get just One answer unlike saying the prosecutor who has a whip but still they are distinct to people who have little experience with the series

sorry i dont have any sort of conclusion on this this was just sort of me rambling on about character design, but my main point is if you are discouraged bc all your characters dont have wildly different silhouettes thats ok! there are other ways to establish a good memorable character! dont be afraid to make them a little weird! give your character pink hair in a medieval setting, have them be ridiculously in love with tigers they have a striped shirt and pants, let them love childrens tv shows and have them never miss an episode, give them wacky hair or an extreme love of gum, show us some personality!! but dont forget about how they act and their values and dont forget that posture can go a long way for establishing a first impression

there are also many other methods to making a good character! like colors and dress!

silly is the way to go! have fun with it!!

there isnt just one way to make a good character!! theres plenty of more series that have good character design that i didnt mention pay attention to why you like the characters you like! also watch this video bc its really good

[afronaruto]

5-15 ummmms djakncks inosai or sakuhina or shikatema ??? take ur pick i guess!! or if you're not feeling any of those. sns ofc

OK im doing sakuhina and yes im doing all 10 thank u for the challenge!! going under readmore cuz its LOOONGGG

5. Who is most likely to carry the other?

sakura hehehe i think she knows that hinata swoons easily and she likes to take advantage of it LOL. she’ll just scoop hinata up and hinata will jus be quiet and bear it... she really likes it though!! and sakura likes carrying hinata because well... doesnt she just look cool doing it and who doesnt wanna carry a pretty girl???

but like, i think if they were on a mission or something together, hinata’s more likely to scoop sakura up and go RUNNING cuz sakura doesn’t wanna retreat and hinata’s like nah. 

6. What is their favorite feature of their partner’s?

oh this is soft. im gonna assume physical features?? for hinata i think her favorite feature of sakura’s is her hair.... it’s so lovely i think she would have admired it when they were in the academy but also hinata really admires strength in other people and i think once she realizes that to sakura, her hair is a sign of her strength she’d really be taken with it! like sakura tells hinata why she cut it in the chuunin exams and why she prefers to keep it short now and hinata thinks sakura is sooooooooo cool for that and she just loves to play with and brush out sakura’s hair because it’s just a reminder of how badass her girlfriend is. she also really likes that it’s pink just aesthetically!!

as for sakura... hinata’s trained so hard and worked so hard for so long, and i’d think that using taijutsu so much and the gentle fist and such really gives you some rough ass hands LOL so hinata has really rough hands with a lot of callouses and they’ll blister easily and sakura loves to hold her hands and put balm on them after hinata’s been training too long for too hard, she loves to kiss hinata’s knuckles and her palms and the tips of her fingers and remind hinata that her hands are for more than being a hyuuga. and this just tears hinata apart i think she gets all weak-kneed when sakura does that sort of stuff. 

7. What’s the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?

hinata’s a MEEEESSSS. like it HITS her and it’s OVER she can’t act right around sakura EVER. i think sakura figures out she likes hinata second and then SHE figures out hinata likes her and she... they both get flustered LOL i think sakura tries to flirt but they both get embarrassed by it its like. the most lesbian courting ever they just dance around each other even though they like obviously dig each other and they’d probably gone on quite a few dates without like... admitting they were dates.... god they’re both a mess actually.

8. Nicknames? & if so, how did they originate?

i think they do like corny sweet nicknames with each other like darling and sweetie and gummy bear and baby doll but i don’t think they have like nicknames they use a LOT. i guess sakura would call hinata ‘hina’ sometimes, but other than that, i think they jus stick with their sappy petnames~~~ and i think they started off as a joke but then they both actually got really into them and how sweet they sound. like hinata feels ALIVE calling sakura “honey” around their friends 

9. Who worries the most?

oh my god they’re both like. disgusting worrywarts. DISGUSTING. sakura naturally as a medic and hinata just like as. hinata. but god if they aren’t both so RECKLESS, sakura has that endless determination and hinata always fights like she’s got something to prove so they worry ENDLESSLY after each other. i think like jus in everyday life sakura will worry after hinata when it really isn’t necessary because she knows how anxious hinata can get in certain situations but hinata... kinda likes it.... shhh.  

10. Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant?

when hinata had a crush on sakura she would try really hard to notice sakura’s preferences so she’d know what kind of gifts sakura would like and that sort of thing just.... persists. she’s so observant i think she doesn’t even realize it until sakura’s in the bathroom or something and hinata realizes she can recite sakura’s order perfectly. i think sakura knows what kind of foods hinata likes but hinata has sakura’s exact order from like... everywhere they go... down pat. she’s a little embarrassed about it though sakura teases her for it 

11. Who tops?

they share the strap verse RIGHTS but in general i think hinata would !!! i can’t give an in depth answer sorry im too embarrassed 

12. Who initiates kisses?

booootthh!!!!! hinata likes to sneak kisses on sakura but they like. in general kiss each other pretty often they like being affectionate with one another. like i said hinata sneaks them on sakura like taps her shoulder and when sakura turns around SMOOCH! sakura’s more upfront about it and will just plant one on hinata whenever. 

13. Who reaches for the other’s hand first?

sakura! but only because hinata plays with her fingers/nails when she’s nervous which is like.... always..... otherwise she’d reach for sakura’s hand too. sakura can’t stand to see hinata fidget so she reaches out to her often, i think hinata being able to hold sakura’s hand often kind of saves her fingernails from the torture she’s been putting them thru lmfao 

14. Who kisses the hardest?

hinata she’’ like bowl sakura over with how hard she kisses her its funny because sakura didn’t expect it at ALL because she initiated their first kiss and hinata seemed so terribly nervous but once hinata gets that its okay to kiss sakura whenever she’ll sneak up on sakura and kiss her terribly hard. it’s pretty flustering for sakura 

15. Who wakes up first?

SAKURA she’s an early bird out of habit and cuz she works at the hospital!! i think even when she doesnt have an early shift she still wakes up early because that’s how she trained herself... but she has a harder time getting out of bed LOL. i think she’ll lay in bed and read or look at hinata until she feels like getting up. hinata gets embarrassed when she wakes up and sakura’s jus looking at her 

[northsidersnotebook]

What’s Mine Is Yours, Tiger (Sweet Pea x Reader)

Request(s): @anon: WRITE THE PROPOSAL PLEASE IM BEGGING YOU

@samanthaofanarchy​: So... I’m in love with Sweet Pea’s fluffy alphabet! And I really love the W about the proposal! Could you pretty please write out a full proposal imagine? It would be so cute!

@alliie-kat​: Heya!! Just loved the wedding part of the fluffy sweet pea alphabet!!! Would love to read how the proposal would go! 😉

@something-likee-this: A second part with a proposal is all I need after last ep... soooo pleassseee!!!!

Synopsis: There’s one question Sweet Pea never thought he’d ask... 

Pairing: Sweet Pea x Reader

Warning(s): Profanity

Word Count: 5125

Request Status: Open

A/N: I originally started working on this as part of a fluffy A-Z, and received a few requests (oh my god, I love you all) for an extended version with an actual ending. So, naturally, I rewrote the whole thing. Don’t say I never give you anything.

Marriage wasn’t something Sweet Pea ever thought was in his future. Sure, somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he wanted that: to be in love, to settle down, to have a real family of his own... But it always seemed so far away. That was, until it wasn’t.

The gang were hanging out at The Whyte Wyrm: Sweet Pea, Fangs, Toni, and you, enjoying a night out together - a rare one where none of you had to work. The drinks were flowing, as was the conversation, comments made without much thought for the most part. But the things you’d all say that particular night would be things that Sweet Pea wouldn’t be able to shake from his mind if his future depended on it, which this time, it kind of did.

“Y’know, I can’t remember the last time I saw Pea in his Serpent jacket,” Toni states, with a smirk. You look away from the pool game your boyfriend and Fangs are playing in front of you and glance between your pink haired friend and the jacket you’re wearing, confused.

“What-? It’s here,” you respond, tugging at the lapels of the leather jacket you’re dressed in, causing Toni to scoff. “…You’ve lost me,” you eventually dismiss, sneaking a sip from your boyfriend’s beer while his back is turned and returning your attention to the pool table.

“I said ‘I can’t remember the last time I saw Pea in his Serpent jacket,’“ Toni repeats, leaning over the small table you two are sharing and prodding the jacket on your shoulder. “Pea isn’t in his Serpent jacket. You are.”

Sweet Pea can’t stop himself from smirking at the conversation as he listens in, while you frown down at the jacket you’re wearing. “But…” You look between Toni and your boyfriend, drawing the jacket tighter around you. “I'm not giving it back,” you pout. Sweet Pea interrupts Toni’s howl of laughter with a firm glare.

“What’s mine is yours, Tiger,” he teases you with a smirk, walking over and placing a kiss to your temple. He reaches for the beer on the table only for Toni to snatch it back, pointing out that his drink is in your hand. He starts to pry it from your grip, but when he sees you pout he lets go with a gentle roll of his eyes. “You’re lucky I like you,” he whispers into your ear, chuckling at the grin his words instantly bring to your face and walking away to take his turn at the pool table. 

“Love you too, baby. Kick his ass!” you shout, raising your boyfriend’s beer to signal ‘cheers’ to a disgruntled looking Fangs before taking another sip. Toni laughs at your antics, waiting for Sweet Pea to set up his shot.

“Wow, Tiger,” she starts, turning her attention back to you. “You’ve got his beer. You’ve got his jacket. You gonna take his name too?” Sweet Pea jolts upright at the sudden turn in conversation, missing his shot. Fangs stands at the other side of the pool table, silently praising Toni for putting off his opponent while doing everything he can to hold back his laughter. You, on the other hand, can’t suppress a chuckle, following it up with a slight hum of approval.

“Y/N Pea,” you pronounce. Toni bites her lip, waiting for you to make any further comment. Finally, you scrunch up your nose. “That’s just ridiculous,” you giggle, Toni and Fangs joining in with your laughter. “I think I need another beer for this conversation,” you chuckle as your laughter dies down. You hop off your stool and towards your boyfriend. “Same again, Sweets?” you ask, kissing him on the cheek and heading to the bar.

Fangs shakes his head at his friends, still chuckling as he readies to take his next shot. Or, at least, that’s he would have been doing had he not noticed his opponent had barely moved a muscle since missing his last shot. Sweet Pea grips his pool cue so tightly his knuckles are white, his jaw clenches, and his eyes focus on the bar where you’re waiting to buy drinks.

“…Pea?” Fangs questions, and he swears he hears his friend practically growl at the sound of his name. The Serpent in question ignores Toni’s protests as he snatches and downs the remainder of her beer before stalking to the far side of the pool table, focusing intently on chalking his cue. Fangs raises his eyebrows at Toni, who eyes their friend with confusion and responds with a shrug. 

“…Sweet Pea?” she calls, sliding from her stool to take a few steps towards him. He throws down the chalk and steps further around the pool table, muttering a “we playing this game or what?” to Fangs as he does. Perplexed by his friend’s sudden mood swing, Fangs puts down his cue. 

“Sure,” he shrugs, folding his arms over his chest as he faces his friend. “When you tell me what just bit you in the ass.” Sweet Pea curses, taking a seat away from the group as he waits for them to drop it and resume playing. Ever more confused, Toni moves to sit by the clearly worked up Serpent, Fangs close behind her. 

“What the hell, Pea?” Her question is met by a cold laugh as Sweet Pea runs his hand through his hair, both Toni and Fangs surprised to see that he’s shaking. 

“’Ridiculous,’“ he mutters under his breath, so quiet in the busy surroundings of the bar that his friends have to lean in to hear him. 

“...Pea, what-” Fangs starts, his question quickly silenced by the sound of Sweet Pea slamming his fist against the table. 

“‘Ridiculous!’“ he repeats, startling both his friends as he springs to his feet. “Of course it’s ‘ridiculous’. It was never going to work. Everyone knew that.” He shakes his head rapidly, his breathing shallow as he tries to regain control of his emotions. “Has it just been- What? A game? A way to pass the time until something better comes along? Fuck!” His sudden curse makes both his friends jump, their confusion quickly fusing with worry the more worked up Sweet Pea becomes. 

“Sweet Pea, talk to us,” Toni gently implores, standing next to him and placing a comforting hand on his arm. He flinches, but doesn’t brush her away. She glances at Fangs to see the Serpent’s eyes widen in realisation, an almost inaudible ‘oh my God’ falling from his lips. “What?” she hisses at him. “What am I missing?” Fangs walks towards his friend, a grin spreading across his features. He nudges Toni out of the way so that he can face Sweet Pea. Keeping his voice low, he asks a question he is certain he already knows the answer to. 

“...You want to marry her?” 

If it’s possible for someones face to drain of colour and flood with embarrassment at the same time, that’s what Fangs and Toni witness in Sweet Pea in that moment. Matching grins adorn their faces at their best friend’s silence, and excitement bubbles out of them in laughter and high pitched exclamations. As he listens to them, Sweet Pea’s whirlwind of emotions gives way to just one feeling: an overpowering and all-encompassing ache. He sinks back onto his stool, burrowing his head in his hands. 

“Pea, that’s great!” Toni proclaims. She gives his arm a gentle squeeze, confusion rising once again at his continued animosity towards the situation. Sweet Pea simply shakes his head. 

“It’s ‘ridiculous’,” he repeats into his palms. He hears Toni still and Fangs curse, the two whispering intently to each other for a moment before they both go quiet. It’s Fangs who pulls Sweet Pea’s hands away from his head, a soft smile on his face as he speaks to his best friend. 

“Come on, Pea. Look at her,” Fangs instructs, nodding his head towards the bar. There’s a moment of stubborn resilience, but Sweet Pea can’t seem to stop his eyes from drifting across the familiar room until they focus on you. You stand on your tip toes leaning on the bar, laughing with fellow Serpents as you chat about who even knows what. As if you feel his gaze on you, you glance back towards the pool table. Making eye contact with Sweet Pea, you can’t stop the faint blush from rising to your cheeks, nor can you stop the smile from lighting up your face. You pucker your lips and blow him an exaggerated kiss before Hog Eye calls for your attention to take your order. 

“Are you really doubting that she loves you?” Fangs asks, drawing Sweet Pea’s attention back to the friends at his side. He and Toni know more about what the two of you have been through than anyone else. They’ve been there through the arguments, through the town’s bitter rivalry, stood with you both through what sometimes felt like hell and back. If they’re on board with this too...

Sweet Pea looks between them both, taking in their encouraging expressions and genuine smiles. He looks back at you to see you laughing at something Hog Eye is saying as he uncaps your beers, and suddenly he’s fighting back tears. 

“No,” he finally responds, surprising himself with how hoarse his voice sounds. He clears his throat and blinks rapidly, turning back to the friends in front of him. “No, of course not,” he adds. “But I- Will she- I mean… Does she even want…” Unable to bring himself to say the words, he looks to his best friend for help, only to be met by a beaming grin and a firm punch to the shoulder. 

“You’re getting married, dude!” Fangs exclaims, before the sight of a wide eyed and panicked Sweet Pea coupled with a loud hiss and a punch to the arm from Toni quietens his excitement. Thankfully, you don’t seem to have heard. “Sorry,” Fangs chuckles, before beaming at his friend once more. “You’re getting married, dude!” he whisper yells, reaching up to ruffle Sweet Pea’s hair and causing him to let out a nervous laugh.

“…You think so?” he asks, his eyes once again finding yours, smiles lighting up both your faces as you pick up your two beers and head back towards the pool table.

“I know so,” Fangs mutters, drawing Sweet Pea’s attention back to him before you can reach them. “So, when are you going to ask her?” 

Something was off. 

You first notice it at Pop’s. It’s a gorgeously sunny day, so you talk Sweet Pea out of the trailer and into town to spend some time enjoying the sunshine. Naturally you end up at the Chock'lit Shoppe, where the two of you curl up in a booth together laughing and teasing as you share a plate of fries. 

At some point Toni and Fangs join you. After a brief catch up, much to your chagrin you have to bid them all goodbye and go to work. With a gentle kiss to your boyfriend’s lips, and a grin and a wave to your friends, you head out the door. 

You’ve barely stepped away from the booth when Fangs and Toni dive across the table to your boyfriend’s side, whispering animatedly to him until they notice you’re still in the room. The silence the three instantly fall into feels deafening. Toni smiles, Fangs offers you a nervous wave, and Sweet Pea refuses to meet your eyes. 

When you ask Sweet Pea about it later he responds with a simple “our friends are idiots, princess,” before changing the topic. 

A few days later you cover a shift for Toni at The Wyrm: her girlfriend has some extravagant event planned on the north side of town, and being the good friend that you are, you agree to work in her place so she’s free to go. As the shift draws to a close and you hear the familiar rumble of your boyfriend’s motorbike pulling into the parking lot, you make no attempt to hide your excitement. Rolling his eyes and muttering something about “young love,” Hog Eye signals that you can leave. 

You bound out the doors, ready to jump straight into Sweet Pea’s arms, only to find him and Fangs whispering furiously to each other. They instantly quieten when they see you. Fangs offers you another one of those nervous waves along with a shit eating grin, and Sweet Pea shoves him towards the doors of The Wyrm before you can question the weirdness of the situation. 

When you ask Sweet Pea about it this time he just shrugs it off. 

You push it to the back of your mind, as ready to dismiss the whole thing as your boyfriend is. The thought of your friends, people you would trust with your life, keeping secrets from you? You know them better than that. 

Besides, they say that once is an accident, twice is a coincidence, and it’s three times that indicates an enemy action, right? 

You notice the whisperings between your boyfriend and your friends more than twice. 

It’s been going on for weeks now - sometimes subtle, sometimes not so subtle - and frankly, you’ve had enough of it. 

“I swear, if you guys aren’t throwing me the world’s biggest surprise party...” you start, sitting yourself down on one of The Wyrm’s bar stools to wait for your friend to finish her shift so you can meet up with the boys at the quarry. Toni pauses from wiping down the bar to look at you in confusion. 

“Your birthday’s not for another four months, Y/N,” she reminds you, resuming her cleaning duties. You bite your lip, slowly twirling the beer bottle in your hand. 

“...Is everything okay?” you ask. Your voice comes out small, causing Toni to furrow her brow and drop her duties to stand in front of you. 

“What do you mean?” she asks. You take in her expression, noting her genuine surprise along with her concern. You’d been so sure there was something you’d been missing, but you know your friends, you trust them. God, was this whole thing in your head? You give Toni a small shrug to tell her “it doesn’t matter,” gesturing with your beer bottle that she should finish her duties for the day before taking a sip of your drink. Toni puts down her bar rag and reaches for your hand. 

“Y/N, talk to me,” she implores. You let out a deep sigh, and take another swig from your beer. 

“You, Fangs, Sweets...” you start, not daring to look your friend in the eye as you explain. After all, this was just you over reacting, right? “...You’ve been whispering.” You cringe at your words as soon as you say them. “A lot.” When you finally raise your eyes to look at her, she’s poorly suppressing a smirk. She says nothing and distracts herself by continuing to clean the bar. 

“Toni!” you exclaim, your mood quickly shifting from self-consciousness to annoyance. “What the hell?!” She continues to clean, straightening out her expression. 

“...Maybe it’s a gift?” she eventually responds, nonchalantly throwing her bar rag towards the sink before walking over to the coat rack for her jacket. You follow her, desperate for answers. 

“That my boyfriend and my best friends are hiding something from me?” you scoff. “Some gift.” Her expression softens and she links her arm with yours, guiding you both out of the Wyrm. 

“Just...” she trails off, not sure how to make you feel better without giving away what their conversations have been about the past few weeks. 

She and Fangs have been ribbing Sweet Pea every chance they get, relishing in having found one of the few topics that could (and would, without fail) actually make their friend blush. Not only that, but they were excited for you both, thrilled at the prospect of you taking this step together. 

But it was too soon. Sweet Pea had never been one for romance or grand gestures. Neither were you, content enough in your relationship to not feel the need to be ostentatious about it. That was just one of the reasons you worked so well together. While he might not be a romantic, Sweet Pea wanted that for you. He hadn’t found the right words, or found the right moment. He didn’t know how to do this, he just knew that he wanted to do it right. The last thing Toni wanted was to do anything that might jeopardise that. So she sighed, shaking her head as she led you to her motorbike. 

“...Let’s go meet the boys,” she finishes, sitting on her bike before passing you her spare helmet. You groan in exasperation and reach out to snatch it, but she holds her grip on it firmly. “Look, you know me and Fangs love you, right?” You roll your eyes but can’t fully suppress the tug of a smile on your lips, so you nod. “And you know Sweet Pea is in love with you, right? Sickeningly so.” This time you don’t fight the smile, and again you nod. 

“Right,” she says, mirroring your smile. “Then believe me when I say that none of us would ever do anything to push you away.” You let out a deep breath, still confused by your friends’ recent behaviour, but starting to feel reassured that your worry has been nothing but an overreaction. 

“Thanks, Tones,” you mutter, taking her spare helmet and sitting on the back of her bike. 

“I’ll knock some sense into them?” Toni offers as she revs the engine. You chuckle lightly, wrapping your arms around her waist. 

“I don’t know, Topaz. They’re pretty sense resistant.” 

“Try me.” 

“Look, there’s Jughead!” Toni yells after you pull into the quarry, stepping off her bike and running towards him. “Hey, Jones!” she proclaims, linking arms with him and dragging him away from his current conversation without a word to the other Serpents he was conversing with. “How’ve you been?” 

“Hey, Toni,” Jug chuckles at her abruptness. “Long time, no see. I’ve been pret-” 

“That’s great,” Toni interrupts, walking him towards you. “Look, there’s Y/N! Bet it’s been a while since you caught up with her too, right?” She pushes him towards you - uttering a quick “cya,” to him and an “I’ll talk to them,” to you - before racing over to Sweet Pea and Fangs.  

Neither of the boys notice their pink haired friend storming across the quarry towards them until she slaps them both on the back of the head.

“A word?” she insists, walking to a secluded space before they can answer. Raising their eyebrows at each other, the boys dutifully follow her. Before either of them can question her, she turns to Fangs.

“This,” she starts, pointing between the three of them, “needs to stop.” At his confused expression Toni rolls her eyes. “Y/N isn’t stupid. She knows there’s something we’re keeping from her.” Sweet Pea’s eyes widen at that, and he sends a frightened glance over to where you’re stood next to Jughead.

Leaning against Toni’s bike, your eyes follow the trio as they walk away from the crowd to engage in a hushed conversation. You watch them as Sweet Pea glances over to you, and when you catch sight of the fear in his expression it’s like your own fears are confirmed: he’s really hiding something from you. 

An empty chuckle escapes your lips as you watch your friends and your boyfriend engage in a heated conversation - one it seems you evidently aren’t important enough to be a part of. Jughead follows your gaze in confusion and his brow creases at the sight. He steps in front of you and nudges the toe of your boot with his. 

“You okay?” he asks. Your voice catches in your throat, and suddenly all the questioning and not knowing and self-doubt feels like too much. All you can do is shake your head. Without a word, Jughead takes his hands out of his pockets and opens his arms. You dive into them without question, glad there’s at least one person who’s not keeping secrets from you. “What can I do?” he asks quietly. 

You shake your head and tighten your hold on him, and he mirrors your grip. You bury your head against his shoulder, not wanting to see the evidence that your friends and your boyfriend really don’t seem to trust you any more. 

“Just... Take me home?” you plead. Jughead nods, keeping an arm comfortingly around your shoulders as he guides you towards his bike. 

Oblivious to your reaction as you watched from the other side of the quarry, Toni continues talking to Sweet Pea and Fangs. 

“So no more whispering 'have you? haven’t you?’ or singing ‘sitting in a tree’ when she’s around,” she states. Fangs nods, his question of “but it’s okay if she’s not around, right?” ignored as she turns her gaze to Sweet Pea. “And you,” she begins, “you need to talk to her.” Seeing his fraught expression her tone softens. “I know you don’t know how to talk to her about this yet. And I know we’re the only people you can talk to about it. But she thinks something’s up, and she doesn’t know what, and she’s hurting over it, Pea.” His gaze drops to the ground, and Toni can’t help but chuckle at how much his expression resembles that of a kicked puppy. 

“Just man up and ask her to marry you, yeah?” she smirks. Hearing that, he can’t fight the smile that tugs at his lips. 

“Yes, ma’am!” he jokingly salutes, taking a nervous breath and running his hand through his hair as he starts to walk over to where you and Jughead are stood. 

Were stood. 

He glances around the quarry, panic rising when he can’t spot your face anywhere. 

“...Toni?” he calls, while she and Fangs quickly catch on to the fact that you’re now missing. The pink haired Serpent quickly pulls out her phone, freezing when she sees a text notification. 

“I get the picture. Heading out with Jug.” 

“...Pea?” When she holds her phone out to him so he can read your message, both her and Fangs can pinpoint the exact moment his heart breaks. 

Knocking on Jughead’s door for the second time that day, Sweet Pea doesn’t think he’s ever felt so tired. Hours have passed since you vanished from the quarry, and when any attempts to call you went straight to voicemail your boyfriend jumped on his bike without another word, driving around town to try and find you. 

He feels like he’s been everywhere you’ve ever hung out: The Wyrm, Pop’s, Sweetwater River, along Sweetwater Bridge, Fox Forest, Pickens Park, every trailer he can think you’d have the slightest reason to visit, even going so far as to check the old grounds of Southside High. Simply put, Sweet Pea was running out of ideas. 

So here he is, outside his friend’s trailer for the second time, trying to glimpse through the curtain covered windows just to see that you’re okay. 

The sound of the door opening distracts him from attempting to squint through the trailer windows. Jughead steps outside and quickly closes the door behind him. 

“Look, Sweet Pea-” At the sight of his friend looking so dishevelled and on edge, Jughead pauses. Considering what to do for a moment, he sighs. “She’s inside.” 

He can practically see the wave of relief that washes over Sweet Pea. He stands taller, the faintest hints of a smile on his face as he breathes a breath of relief, and his hands - that Jughead barely even noticed were shaking, stretch out and still. Sweet Pea nods, and waits for Jughead to say more. 

“She didn’t talk about it,” he shrugs, waiting for his friend to give him some clue as to what’s going on with them. He doesn’t. “Come on, Sweet Pea. What the hel-”

“I’m going to ask her to marry me.”

Sweet Pea’s voice is quiet, but not so quiet that Jughead doesn’t catch what he says. The beanie-wearing Serpent’s eyes all but bulge out of their eye sockets. 

“You- You? You want to-”

“I love her,” Sweet Pea interrupts, his voice rising in volume as he steps towards his friend in the doorway. “I’m in love with her, and I want to spend the rest of my life with her.” With that last comment he shrugs, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, which to him, he’s realised, being with you is. “So, yeah. I want to marry her.” 

Lying on Jughead’s sofa, a blanket drawn up to your chin, you don’t see any of that. But you do hear the tail end of the conversation. Your heart starts pounding so hard and fast you’re scared it’s going to beat right out of your chest. Your vision swims, probably with tears but your mind is spinning too fast for you to make that connection. Your breathing shakes, like you can’t get enough oxygen, and if you were with it enough to think in anything near a straight sentence you’d thank God that you’re lying down because there’s no way your body could support itself right now. 

When the world comes back into focus it’s impossible for you to tell how much time has passed. In reality it’s only been a few seconds. Sweet Pea and Jughead are still talking to each other outside. Sweet Pea, who wants to marry you. You reach a shaking hand to your face to find tears, along with a smile so wide it actually aches. 

Discarding the blanket wrapped over you, you push yourself to your feet. You dry your eyes and shake out your hair, before looking down at your appearance. Tiptoeing to the corner of the room, you pick up Sweet Pea’s jacket from where you threw it in your earlier anguish. For the life of you, you’re not sure you can even remember what you were upset about any more. You put it on, holding it close and drinking in his scent for a moment, then you walk towards the door. 

The conversation outside stops the second you open the trailer door. Sweet Pea’s eyes scan you from head to toe, because no matter how you feel about him, goddamn does he always find you to be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. You blush, a smile still lingering on your face, but you ignore it. 

“This has been happening a lot lately,” you utter, referring to the sudden silence upon your presence. You put your hands in the pockets of your jacket, holding it tighter around you. Sweet Pea shakes his head and starts up the stairs towards you, reaching out - though if it’s more to reassure him or you neither of you know. And in this moment, you don’t care. 

“Princess, I-”

“-Want to marry me.” 

Your interruption is quiet, but it causes Sweet Pea to freeze on the spot. Jughead looks to you for confirmation that you’re okay in the situation, but doesn’t get it, your attention’s so fully focused on your boyfriend. He looks to Sweet Pea, whose eyes are wide, his focus utterly and completely on you. Taking a step back from you both he awkwardly shuffles his way past you and into the house to give you both some privacy. 

It takes Sweet Pea a few moments for his mind to find his tongue, and then a few more to figure out what to say. As it is, all he comes out with is “...You know?” 

You shrug your shoulders, tilting your head towards the open window of the trailer without taking your eyes off Sweet Pea. “I heard.” 

He turns his head towards the window and back to you, but his eyes never leave your form, trying to read your every response in the moment. “I love you,” he breathes. 

Saying those three words is like a damn breaking somewhere within him. You barely get out a “Sweets, I-” before he’s closing the distance between you, grabbing both your hands in both of his, and dragging you away from Jughead’s trailer and onto the green grass in front. 

“I wanted to do this right, Tiger,” he murmurs, resting his forehead against yours. He glances around at your surroundings before quickly returning his gaze back to you. “This wasn’t what I had in mind, but...” He moves both your hands to one of his and uses the other to tenderly brush your hair out of your face. “You’re here, so...” With that he takes a small step back, readying himself for what he’s about to do. 

“Sweets, I-” you attempt again, but he silences you by brushing his thumb over your lips. 

“I need to say this,” he whispers. He lowers his head and places the gentlest of kisses to the corner of your lips, before standing tall and tilting your head up to face him. 

“Y/N Y/L/N.” You let out a breathless laugh, unable to stop yourself until you catch the look of shock in your boyfriend’s eyes. 

“Sorry,” you whisper. “Continue.” His shock quickly melts into awe, and then into something the likes he’s never he’s never felt before as it dawns on Sweet Pea that you’re not laughing at him, but with him. You’re with him. 

Suddenly his eyes are brimming with tears and he can’t seem to get his words out quickly enough. 

“Y/N Y/L/N,” he repeats. “Since the day we met there has been no one else. No one who looks like you. No one who cares like you. No one who pisses me off like you.” You let out a breathless laugh, not noticing the tears that start to spill from your eyes. “No one I’m in love with like you,” Sweet Pea exhales, fighting the temptation to lean forwards and kiss you then and there. 

“You’re it, Tiger,” he continues, tears spilling from his own eyes as he takes another small step back from you. “You’re my ride or die.” He strokes your cheek one final time before dropping his hand from your face. “So tell me, princess...” He takes your hand in both of his, and never taking his eyes off yours, drops down on one knee. 

It takes you a moment to realise that the breathless giggle you can hear is your own. Your free hand shoots up to your mouth, trying to hold your emotions in as you look down at the boy you feel like you’ve always been in love with. 

“Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?” 

You never agreed to anything so readily in your life. 

[franeridart]

I just found your profile and I love your style so much!

AHHHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!!!!

Anon said:From kami's-hair-is-hard-to-doodle anon from a while back: I finally got it! Thank you so much for your advice - reading and rereading your tips kept me practicing! I'd also like to thank the Academy /orz

I’m glad it could help you at all!!!! :O Kami keeps on being a mystery to me (and Horikoshi himself ???) too so don’t get too down on yourself for it taking time haha

Anon said:Ive sent you a couple of asks before but Im just so in love with the content you produce. Like not only is your art style so cute and stuff, but the plot/story (Idk) of each post is just so original and adorable. Im just so blown away by everything you post. Thank you for sharing your art!!!! Have a good week!!

Anon said:Hi! I’m new to your blog but love your art, I think your very talented which is why I’d like to ask a question. Do you have any advice for posing? I noticed your very good at it and wondered if you have any tips. If you do answer this, Thank you!!

Firstly, thank you so much for the compliments!!! I don’t know how useful exactly any advice I could give you will be, since most of it comes from drawing a lot and watching drawings even more, but in general to pick a pose usually what I do is think of the scene as if in movement? As in, what the characters are doing, and how they’d move if I were looking at them while doing it - keeping in mind the characters personalities helps me with this a lot too. 

Take for example the confessions drawings I’ve posted a couple of days ago: it’s true that there’s no words nor movement anywhere in them, but as I drew them I had a pretty clear idea of what they were saying and how the characters would react in those situations - Jirou’s shy and easily flustered, so she’s averting her eyes, unable to keep eye contact, and closing in on herself a bit, hiding her face and so on; in the concept, Kaminari was the one who confessed, so he’s holding her hand, tentative, because he’s unsure about how she’s gonna answer (it’s all stuff that didn’t actually make it in the drawing, how he reached for her hand, how he’s gonna close his other hand around her knuckles, but in my head it was a complete scene and I just picked one frame of it all to draw). The same goes for Bakugou and Kirishima - they’re rowdier, louder, more assertive and inclined to take everything as a fight, so this time around I went for a scene in which Bakugou straight out yells his feelings at Kirishima and Kirishima answers me too (again, I had the before and after in my head too, I just picked the frame that best coveyed what I was trying to do)

As I said I’m usure about how much this might help you orz it’s just my way of doing things, and it mostly comes from the fact that I was originally a writer honestly, so thinking of a whole scene makes things easier for me #rip

Anon said:Can I say, I really like the colors for your confession pictures! :>

THANK YOU??????? H E C K ;O; 

Anon said:hi~ i just went through literally everything in your sketches tag and i just wanna say i love your art and your comics and stuff. also because i went through everything, i want to bring attention to how cool it is to see how much your style has changed! your lines seem more confident and your characters more dynamic in the last few years :D

HECK THANK YOU SO MUCH it’s always so damn nice to know people can see my stuff getting even just slightly better oh mannnnnnnnnnnnnn *sob*

Anon said:can we repost your art if we give like 100% credit

Nope, sorry, I’d prefer it if you didn’t do that

Anon said:those "confessions" must be the lewdest thing I've ever seen

why would you use that word tho

Anon said:I just wanted to tell you that I love your art and it always makes me a little happier when you post something! No matter if it's your comics or colored pics or "simple" doodles, I love all of them! (Though soft stuff is the best, hehe) I just hope you know that you're very appreciated, and I hope you only have wonderful days!

GODS THANK YOU SO MUCH I’m so so so happy I can make you a lil happier ;0; I hope you’ll have every possible wonderful day too, anon!!

Anon said:I just spent the last few hours of my Sunday going though your entire blog. It’s beautiful and I hope you know that you have ruined my life because of that beauty. God damn it.

That wasn’t the intention but I’m!!!!!!!!! glad you think so???????? sob oh my g od you all are too nice to me ;^;

Anon said:Tododeku?

It sure is a ship, isn’t it - I’ve drawn for it in the past, I most probably will again in the future! :D

Anon said:you're honestly one of my fav artists on here! i love your style it feels so unique and is so pleasing to look at (((:

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’M CRYING THANK YOU

Anon said:Your art has this unique quality about it... its really hard to describe but there’s something so dynamic and god damn pretty about your work. It’s fantastic and you inspire me to keep on creating! I hope your day is absolutely wonderful and thank you for blessing us with your art!

I’m!!!!!!!!!!!!!! so glad I can make you want to create stuff, anon!!!!!! that’s the best thing anyone can ever tell me, oh my god ;^; thank you so much !!!

Anon said:I love it when you draw cuddly bakugou!! Its wonderful!!

THAT’S!!!! super great to hear cause I could probably draw only that for the foreseeable future and not mind it one bit holy smoke

Anon said:THE HUG COMICS ARE THE BEST COMICS, I LOVE HUGS AND BAKUGOU BEING PHYSICALLY AFFECTIONATE IS SOMETHING I LOVE, A++++, WOULD RECOMMEND.

HONESTLY BAKUGOU NEEDS ALL THE HUGS AND IF I MUST BE THE ONE TO GIVE THEM ALL TO HIM THEN SO BE IT

Anon said:all ur comics are fucking delightful and make my day everytime. i ve read them all like too many times? i read each multiple times in a row and im still giddy? i love them i love u

I!!!!!!! LOVE YOU TOO???? HOLY SHIT THANK YOU

Anon said:*sigh* soft-phisical contact lover bakugou save my week. And kiri is the most wonderfull sunshine and no one cant discuss that *sit down in the floor and manly crying*

Kiri is the brightest sunshine isn’t he ;^; the sun to Bakugou’s moon, it makes me weak and I cry a lot

Anon said:I never knew I could be so weak for kiribaku omg fran what have you done to me, on that note what little things do you think theyd do to take care of each other? Like kinda lowkey stuff theyd quietly do? Ahh anyway thank you so much for all the wonderful drawings, hope everything is going well for you :)

Well, this is just the feeling I got, but I’d say they do plenty for each other quietly and softly in canon too, don’t they? Bakugou especially, pointing out to Kirishima his strength when he can’t see it for himself and always trying to find a way to cheer him up when he’s down and giving him space when he needs it, training together, studying together, worrying over one another, Kiri making sure to always know what’s up with Bakugou and following him to help him, just generally being there for each other so that if and when they need they’ll know they’ll have someone they can lean on - their relationship is really mutually supportive, isn’t it? I cry so much they make me so happy ;^; *sob*

Anon said:When season 3 comes out wouldnt it be fun if krbk fans filmed their ch.90 being animated reactions?? I think it'd be so cool/cute to see all the emotions! What do you think?

You know, I’m pretty sure that IS gonna happen? People make reaction videos for so many things! It’s nice and fun, honestly, I love it~

Anon said:I really love the way you draw spiky hair! It looks so floofy and soft.

Boi thank you!!!! Spikes are super nice to draw, though admittedly I make them less spiky then they’re probably supposed to be haha

Anon said:As someone who adores Sero Hanta And is a die hard krbk fan can I just say how much I love you? Like I was having a rough-ish day and I can’t stop smiling now because of your latest comic. Seriously, I love you and your art is everything.

I’M SO GLAD YOU LIKED THAT ONE!!!!!!!! I adore Sero if I had any better clue how to draw him I’d draw him all the time always, true story, he’s such a fave ;^;

Anon said:OMG Fran!!! I want Bakugou's name tattooed on all their faces now!! Hahahaha!

You know, one of my first krbk fanarts was Bakugou writing his name on Kirishima’s forehead, actually....................

[boymeetsweevil]

BTS as (weird) babies in your daycare

Kim Seokjin

The oldest of the bunch

brings two designer brand lunchboxes in to school

his lunches cost more than yours do

he eats all his food and then will go around the lunch table asking the others for small bites of their meal and they usually give in to him because he shouts “but we’re BROTHERS >:O” if they say no the first time around

the one that likes to take you by the hand while you’re in the middle of paperwork or something and bring you to see that castle he was working on

you compliment him on it and then you’re dismissed like:

“Wow jin that’s a great castle you did a great job stacking the blocks”

“Thank you teacher can you leave now?”

And you go back to your paperwork feeling kind of small before you remember that you are more than a decade older than the tiny child that sent you away

not the bossiest child (that’s jimin) but is a close second

is the most catalogue looking child you’ve ever seen

when you’re bored in the classroom during naptime and you play with your phone, he’s the one who only slept for 20 minutes

he then proceeds to come over and sit in your lap for a chance to play with your phone

You open up snapchat and play with the filters with him in the dimmed playroom and listen to his little chime-like giggles

his selfies are 80x cuter than yours before the filters and when the little dog ears come out to play you have no chance

Always brags about his older brother being able to use shoes “with no velcRO and long LONG lOng stringlaces” (=shoelaces)

hoseok always yells back that there’s no such thing as shoes without velcro “unless youre a growned-up and your hyung isn’t a growned-up i saw him at the park hes just a kid too!!”

Always brings in crafts that he made with his au pair for the class

currently has an obsession with hearts so he has been bringing in crudely cut heart shaped cut outs with scribbly stick figures on them

everyone got one, even you

he also made sure to draw himself into everyone’s heart as well

in the one he made for you its clear he drew himself first because he’s normal sized and you’re gigantic and bending horrifically around the edge of the heart because he didn’t plan the spacing well 

Also brings in the best group snacks when its a holiday or his birthday

cries when you tell him its not okay to sit on the other boys when they bother him

Always wants to be your helper and repeat what you just said to the class like he’s your assistant he is SUCH a teacher’s pet

“can i be teacher jinnie?”

“ummmmmm...not right now, maybe later okay?”

“oh...When im bigger???”

“uh Yes! when youre bigger”

“okay....Teacher im bigger now”

gives you wet cheek kisses :’)

He has the CUTEST laugh and when he laughs you laugh because its one of those rolling baby laughs that just doesn’t stop and you find yourself chasing him around the playroom to hear his giggle even though your feet hurt

drinks more milk than anyone in the class

as a result he has the NASTIEST farts

Min Yoongi

The one who has been coming the longest but still takes a good 45 minutes to stop sulking after being dropped off before he’s in the mood to play

will legit stand by the window to watch his mom drop him off every fucking morning like he doesn’t know where she’s going and if she’s coming back

when you come over to see if he’ll play with the other kids, he just turns and pouts at you and whines a little and turns back to the window

When he’s not in a funk though he is the most mature kiddo

Plays the best by himself, and is very simply entertained

brought in some homemade maracas for his show and tell day

it was literally just a recycled cardboard container with dried beans in it that he had scribbled all over with 40 different markers

keeps calling it “makaka”, you try not to laugh you fail

he just sat on the edge of the rug in the playroom and shook the box of beans softly to himself for an hour

when the shaking stopped you came over to see if he was alright and you realize he fell asleep

is surprisingly chatty

probably has the best vocabulary or is tied with joon

but also probably ahead of joon in terms of working vocab because while joon knows how to use “extraordinary” he also can’t grasp what the slide is called and yoongi has him beat there

ALWAYS FALLS ASLEEP first

sometimes will ask if he can start nap time early and drags the pillow and blanket the parents bring in from home up to your desk to make a more convincing argument

is always patient zero and gets fevers really easliy

when that happens you have to carry him around while you putter through the classroom and rub his back while he sleeps it off

you have to shush the other kids while he sleeps because theyre always so loud when they ask “Is Yoongi SICK???? :(”

he sleeps in your lap during nap time on those days and you stroke his fat fever-rosy cheeks when he whines in his sleep from the heat

cries whenever taehyung says his drawings are ugly

but they are, especially if he draws you 

theres always this weird expression on your face and sometimes you think about it when youre up late at night and then you cant sleep

is full of full facts about insects because his dad reads about them before bed

and is apparently always at the library

you saw him there once and he almost exploded because what are you doing outside the school

“teacher what are you going here”

“i came to get some books just like you”

“but i thought you couldn’t leave the school”

“i can leave the school...”

“wont you get a time out?”

“um no sweetie”

Yoongi has a huge sweet tooth and gets super excited on fridays when his mom packs him like chocolate milk or something 

can never open the little carton so he brings it to you and just vibrate next to you until you poke the straw in

pretty sure you saw his eyes roll into the back of his head once while drinking it

has fallen asleep with the carton in his hands on multiple occasions

HAS THE SWEETEST BABY LISP YOU’VE EVER HEARD

when you bring your guitar in for music days he sits at the front and listens SUPER intently and always tries to come over and touch it while you’re playing so have to be like

“yoongi, sweetie, please sit down”

“um okay. teacher ? im gonna play the giddar too okay?”

“while I’m playing it?”

“Yeah :)”

“no yoongi.”

“Okay...teacher?” REPEAT 1-6

Jung Hoseok

This kid is all over the place oh my god

srsly he is always tripping on shit because he is always running

and his jeans are a little too long because they're hand me downs from his sister and he refuses to let his dad put a belt on him in the morning

loves to hold hands but his hands are always so so so sticky

like wtf

he will want to hold your hand during walking field trips and you want to just yank your hand away and wipe it on your jeans and douse it in hot water but you don’t because he loves to hold hands and his hand is small and soft and warm and you don’t want to hurt his feelings :’(

you compromise by helping him when he’s at the sink and make sure he uses soap

probably the one who won’t stop putting his hands down his pullups

not in a weird way but in that way where kids will develop some weird habit/quirk that they do on autopilot for comfort

He probably tests your patience the most because is also: THE LOUDEST

he is that kid that screams bloody fucking murder when you turn the lights off for naptime,  every day :)

but not to be funny because he’s scared of the dark

he was originally placed somewhere else but he kept getting up in the middle of nap time to drag his blanket and pillow over to you to sleep nearby

when you asked him what he was doing he said that he sleeps near his big sister when he gets scared and you have to bite your knuckle not to cry when you realize he counts you too

Speaking of big sister, dawon goes to the day care for older kids on the floor above ur classroom

sometimes the teacher upstairs will let her come down to say hi

she stands by the doorway and watches him play with stuffed animals for a few minutes before going “hooooooobiiiiiiiiiii” and he drops everything to run over and she pets his hair and asks if he’s being good in that way where you can tell kids are parroting some random adult 

tbh this is your least favorite time of the day because he always wails because she can’t stay but he really misses his big sis and makes you tear up a little too

Sometimes another teacher will come in for “Body Time” and does yoga stretches with the kids

hobi is such a whiz at body time and always does the stretches with a surprising amount of control

its probably his second favorite thing next to running in literal circles in the tall grass during outside time in the spring

He’s a bit of a perfectionist because if you move his dominoes out of the little rows he made, even by just a fraction of a millimeter he. will. lose it.

Also won’t eat food that touches or crusts of bread or fruit skins

but he will eat orange slices without fail as long as you “make them into pieces first teacher :’(”

always gets stung by bees?????

because: yoongi likes bees a lot, he thinks theyre cute and interesting and he always takes hoseok by the hand to the nearest hive to tell him facts and point at things with a pudgy finger

but you’ve told the kids time and time again not to go near beehives but yoongi loves bees too much and hobi startles easily and either jostles the hive or pisses off a nearby bee

Kim Namjoon

Is the only one that can read

you were super shocked when you came over to him one day looking intensely at a book and he was confused and you were like

“what’s the matter, joonie”

“i can’t find the kittens in the picture”

“What kittens” and you read the little blurb on the page and see the word mittens and you’re like oh shit he can kinda read

so now you make sure he reads a different book from the bookshelf each day

jimin is always demanding to be read to and joon is happy to do it even when jimin switches pages on him in the middle of the book or asks to start over or start another book

Has those little baby glasses that tie behind his head so he can see

he always drops them though because he fiddles with the tie in the back and they get too loose throughout the day

He’s one of the more affectionate kids in class and will cling to your leg when he’s having a rough day

doesn’t want you to pick him up unless you’re sitting because he’s scared of heights

will sit on your lap any time its free though

often competes for lap space with kookie and often loses because kookie runs faster or joon will fall because this is joon we’re talking about

hes a good sport about it and stands next to you and asks kookie when his turn is next very sweetly

No surprise but namjoonie is always falling

but he never gets majorly hurt

maybe he scrapes a knee or a hand or something minor

he doesn’t cry much either hes a tough cookie!!

he’ll tell you a fact about prehistoric jellyfish with a wavering voice and watery eyes while you put his bandaid on

Baby Joon LOVES LVOES LVOES apple sauce

he cannot get enough of it and MANY of the stains on his little cords (his favorite clothing item) are apple sauce stains

Namjoon is sadly that kid that will eat anything though so you’re constantly watching him to make sure he doesn’t eat anything deadly

when he’s being too quiet or still in the corner of your vision you walk up quietly behind him and just stick a hand out and he spits whatever it is into the napkin in your palm with a goofy smile

eats his boogers probly :(

Joons mom always brings little treats for you because she was worreid that he would be bullied or isolated when she first enrolled him in the class but he’s doing well and she’s glad for the atmosphere you’ve set up

sometimes she sends him in with your treat if she’s too busy in the morning so he’ll totter in with his glasses and what looks like some homemade cake and your can’t help but scoop him up and plant a kiss on his cheek and tell him to tell his mom thank you

his best friend is probably jin because jin knows the alphabet and appreciates namjoon’s knowledge

jin helps joon get over his fear of the swings, but he’s still scared of heights i assure you he will start to wail if you take his feet too high off the ground

cries when he spills his apple sauce which is often but he always has a spare

 but! you’re not sure if his mom packs it because he loves it so much or because he’s bound to drop one

Park Jimin

When he first came in to school you gasped because those cheeks were a gift from above and the little always-there pout was so cute

he lives for praise, he is such a ham and he loves the way the old ladies at the front desk always try to bribe him with candy for a cheek pinch

he’s a shrewd little business man and won’t let anyone touch his cheeks for less than 2 soft caramels

Park Jimin is as bossy as they come

but everyone in the classroom has no problem with it except maybe you sometimes

he is always going “Teacher! Come here!” from somewhere in the room and you always have to go “You want to try that again, Park Jimin?” and he goes “Teacher! PWEASE come here!” and ur like...ok

Fairly independent

his dad assured you he knows how to cut with regular scissors but jimin continues to use the kiddie scissors and then act like he can’t do it and blink up at you for help

he just wants you to watch him do it

can also put on his own snowsuit without help but still wants you to do it for him because he LIVES for the personal attention

Is a tiny bit violent?

will yell really loud if you take his truck or his dino dolly

or if you make him try to take off his favorite faux cowhide sweater when its time to paint

never hits/kicks/bites tho

the one time it looked like he might hit jungkook you were there in an instant to pull him away and give him a calm and quiet but stern lecture about why his hands are not for hitting or hurting

he had frustrated tears welling up in his eyes when you brought him back to JK and had him use his words

“Kookie, I dont like when you take my toys when im still playin wif dem”

JK: *is preverbal*

and you pry the toy out of jungkook’s freakishly strong baby grip and return it to jk

Jimin’s best friend is probably tae

their moms are friends and they regularly have play dates at each other’s houses

sometimes they come in together in the mornings if one mom is busier than the other

they sleep next to each other during nap time

Chim cries when he can’t sit next to tae during snack time

Has a very adult palate for a baby

i.e. he loves vegetables

is kind of nosy and will come over to your desk when you open your lunch bag and ask to see the vegetables

you make sure to always pack a veggie because the one time you didn’t his eyes widened and he said “mama says you die if you dont eat no veg-ables”

asks if everything is a “veg-able”

jimin: *points to sandwich* veg-able?

you: no

jimin: *points to kimbap/turkey leg/piece of cake/bag of chips/an apple* veg-able?

you:....no

if you did bring a veggie that he doesn’t already have in his lunch, he’ll ask for a bite

normally you have to tell kids no when they ask for your food because you’d end up with everyone asking for a bite and no lunch, but no one else likes veggies in the class. 

so sometimes you slip a sliced cucumber to him and he holds it in two hands and runs back to his spot to eat it and then comes back like an outdoor cat looking for more food

Has a lovely singing voice

its high and pretty, kind of angelic and he tells you that he sings for his grandma a lot

you praise his singing so naturally he loves music day too and if you sing a song he sings with his mom at home he gets so excited

yoongi is enthralled when jimin knows the words to a “teacher song” before its been taught to the class

Kim Taehyung

idk why this is so pertinent to my idealization of him as a child BUT: Has the biggest head out of anyone in the classroom sorry

is so so so cute, might even be your favorite..

he’s super agreeable

loves to cuddle, eat all his food in his little stackable lunch containers, naps well, plays nicely with others, listens pretty well

BUT

he always pees himself :(

and you don’t understand it because his dad came in and bragged about how much of a big boi his son is at home in the bathroom using the toilet but at school? NOPE

he has like 8 changes on clothes for this reason

you can always tells when he’s about to pee himself because

he stands in the middle of the room and just goes “sorry teacher” really softly

your heart breaks when you hear how sad he is that he wet himself but you’re also a little irate because you’re convinced no one deals with as much pee as you do

you give him the talk every time which consists of your wriggling him into some ridiculous pink overalls while trying to make eye contact with him so you can tell him that when he feels like he has to go, he can just go to the potty

Tae carries a blanket around at all times!!!!!

he takes it everywhere with him and uses a different one to cover him up during nap time.

cries on the days that his dad drops him off without it because it has to be washed

the blanket was purple at one point but now it is straight up grey-brown

is surprisingly good at walking/running with it and not tripping on it

Jimin  started calling him tata

so now everyone calls him tata

Is probably the class sweetheart as well

when he’s out sick, literally everyone goes “where’s tata” at random times of the day even though you went over who was “at school” and who was “at home” and said he was at home

tae is so so so so good at drawing its crazy

hes way above his age grade in terms of drawing BUT he has a little trouble getting a pencil into his grip 

so you have to help him finagle it into his little hand but once he does WOOO here comes a dragon with you on its back holding a big ol sword

Is that one kid who manages to run around naked the most

its probably because you’re always in the middle of changing him when someone else distracts you and you turn around and all of the sudden he’s naked as the day he was born from the belly button and waddling back to where jimin is playing with flubber on the rug

you have to run over and scoop him up but also hold him at arms length because hello? pee?

he thinks this is hilarious and flaps his arms like hes flying

Everyone kisses tae

like when the kids get to that stage where they all try to kiss each other because their parents probably kiss them and they're like imitating their parents

everyone goes for tae

he takes it like a champ

but his face is probably v sticky after wards so you pull him over and take a wet wipe to his face

might ask you for a kiss and you place one on his LARGE forehead lol

His grandma comes in often with dolls she made for the class

tae shows them off proudly during his show and tell days and makes sure everyone plays nicely with them or theyll break because theyre normally made from soft yarn

He has a major thing for stickers and is always asking you for stickers to adorn his whole body with 

you are constantly telling him to take stickers off his face and sometimes he puts them on his eyebrow and you sigh because crying is inevitable at that point

you have limited him to 3 stickers on any given day and they go on a piece of paper labeled “Taehyung’s Tata’s stickers”

was mad when you tried to write his full name on the paper because he is tata at school >: (

Jeon Jungkook

the youngest! a true baby

when he first came to the classroom he was right in the middle in terms of age so like he technically aged out of the nursery down the hall but he wasn’t at the normal age minimum to enter your classroom and you were like Ummmmm i guess he can come? because you didn’t have very many kids so what’s one more right?

Started walking and running in the same day during his first week at the classroom!!!

you were worried he’d be too small to keep up with the other kids and might be hurt with their type of play but nope

he was constantly crawling after them trying to keep up until one day he just...stood up and you were like omg and pulled your phone up

when his parents came to pick him up you showed them the video and his dad cried

Now he’s the fastest runner in the class

he doesn’t really talk yet

hes still preverbal but you can tell he gets whats going on around him

the others are good about it

although you did have to have a day where you addressed the question they kept asking you

“Why doesn’t kookie have words?”

“he’s too little. but he’ll talk when he’s ready”

it was a short talk

He knows two words

no and something that is the approximation of hyung but you’re not certain

if he wants your specific attention he just goes “AH” really loud

says no to everything even when he means yes

this means that when you ask him if he wants to eat snack he says no and then cries when you put his lunchbox away thinking he may actually not be hungry

despite being the best at toddling, he always wants to picked up

he is such a teacher’s pet its crazy

its probably the one piece of evidence that he is the least mature of the group

and also because he misses the presence of his mom

he will settle for sitting in your lap when you’re at your desk

or when you’re trying to read to the group during “carpet reading time”

he will try to turn the pages for you but it took him a while to realize you weren’t always done reading when he turned a page and you’d have to fight him to turn the page back so you could finish

now he waits for you to say “you can turn the page now kook”

He is so so so shy omg

if a teacher from another classroom comes by to borrow something, they naturally try to come over and say hi to the one kid who you’re carrying on your hip or sitting in your lap and he just turns and smushes his face into your armpit until he suspects they’ve left

he does, however, have a weird obsession with the handyman that comes in to repair that one tricky light in the back of the art closet

kook will stare at him until he leaves and its cute because he’ll leave your lap or whine to be put down and toddle over to watch him work from a “reasonable distance”

the repairman is kind of gruff looking but he always turns and spots kook watching him like 8^O and will snort

one time he handed kook a rubber band that he had in his breast pocket and kook kept it clutched in his little hand all day

actually waves goodbye when he leaves its so precious

Kook is very sensitive to touch and stuff

so in the winter when he has to wear layers he cries a lot if the t-shirt under his sweater bunches up the wrong way

like he’s so finicky about tactile stuff

he can’t have bare feet ever

wears slippers all year, even in the summer

also cries if the classroom gets too loud and covers his ears

you think maybe he may have some sort of sensory sensitivity

won’t eat the bananas in his lunch unless you mash them with a fork for him

cried when you cut open a pumpkin to show the kids the seeds inside and later roast them because the smell was too strong for him

you had to put a tiny face mask on him to get him to calm down and he resembled a ninja turtle the whole day

He loves hobi very much and is always super giggly when hobi pays extra attention to him

always follows him around and is constantly bumping his nose on hobi’s back because he follows him THAT CLOSELY

always fights with jin

meaning he constantly swipes toys out of his hands and then sometimes gets sat on as punishment and cries until you heft jin off him

you don’t know why they always fight

is so good at hidden item picture books like Ispy

you will zoom through them because he finds everything immediately and you wonder if maybe hes a genius

you had a hunch one day and put him down in front of a 400 piece puzzle and he did a surprisingly good chunk of it in the span of the school day and went straight to it the next day

I was trying so hard to write this and couldnt think of anything and then i remembered yesterday that my friemd Worked in a daycare for the last three years??? so a lot of this is real life stuff which is funny but also really extra

all pics are from weheartit...

[calmofpetrichor]

Band of Brother rewatch - Currahee!

Side note: I wouldve loved to interview the veterans or at least talk to them about their lives and when i say omg i love them i mean it with the upmost respect and theyre all heroes in my eyes.

Eugene roe who hurt you

Careful with that knifey, dont want any stabby yet

The shot of them praying is so visually pleasing and just makes the whole "omg i could be about to die" feeling so much more real

Their cam cream is all so different and it kinda reflects how they are as a person like guarneres just smeared all over, roes is kinda more specific and speirs is just like three fingers ran down his face proper badass style

Guarnere is bout to fight someone

Winters and nixon swaggering along together looking fiiine

Happy hour is every hour for nixon

We'll go to chicago. I'll take you there. WHEN WILL A MARRIED EVER

Nixons smile gives me life

You PEOPLE are at the POSITION of ATTENTION

George luz sounds terrified when he says luz george i love him okay

Private bullshit omg😂

Percontes so smol he must be protected

EUGENE

BUTTS (the barrel) but also liptons. Damn.

EUGENE

Walking in style easy company

I am here for all the liebgott sass

What company is this? Not so easy company

I cant even walk to the fridge without being tired these men were made outta steel. Respect🤘🏻

YAS WINTERS BEING A FAB LEADER AND CHEERING THEM ON YOU GO WINTERS

EUGENE (can u tell whos my fave i dont think u can)

"Lieutenant sobel does not hate easy company private randleman. He just hates you." "Thankyou sir."

Winters saying what sobel says but in a different way reminds me of when you copy your friends essay but change it up slightly

Mmmmmm mess hall food

"Why them?" "It was their turn."

Winters' "over as a team"

This scene really shows what bob is all about lowkey gives me boosgumps (i meant goosebumps but i couldnt stop laughing at boosgumps so imma keep it in)

"Uh its a can of peaches sir"

WINTERS' TINY SMILE OMG

"Lieutenant winters?" *both winters and nixon turn around*

"I like spaghetti" suuuuuuuure sobel you like it cus it reminds you of snakes and thats how youre acting pal. Snek.

Everytime i watch this i want to eat spaghetti

EUGENE

"this aint spaghetti. This is army noodles with ketchup"

Guarnere knew it twas too good to be true

George luz starting a lil sing along sesh good man keep the morale up

ZIM ZAM GODDAMN WE'RE AIRBORN INFANTRY

YAS GUARNERE so fine

A lot of moods portrayed in percontes face in like 5 seconds

"Corporal toye. There will be no leaning in my company. Are those dusty jumpwings? How dyou expect to slay the huns with dust on your jumpwings?!"

Fun fact joe toye was originally goan be a medic and trained and stuff but saw paratroopers got more money so signed himself up😂

Leibgott serving looooooks

Sobels like an excited 8 year old. He hits winters and then goes "lets just get em" with big ol wide eyes

EUGENE (yup im gonna do this all the time)

Their faces in this scene are golden

EUGENE (told you)

The troublesome threesome

Nixon gives sobel so much shade

Joe toye and joe liebgott lookin oh so gooood

Im always fumbling with grenades same liebgott same

"Going my way? Wherever the train takes me"

"If i thought youd drink it i wouldnt offer it to you"

Look at lil harry all sleepy

Blithe!!!!

Fun fact: blithe didnt actually get shot in the neck, he was hit in the shoulder and didnt die from his wounds.

Joe toyes whole speechy bit here i could put this on loop and fall asleep dreaming sweet dreams.

"Really? Its hot in africa?" "Shaddap"

Luz climbing the bunks is insanely satisfying for some reason

Wuh oh liebgotts comin in hot

Fun fact liebgott was actually roman catholic, it even said so on his dogtag but he found it funny everyone thought he was a jew so he didnt object

Theyre basically just huggin for like 3 seconds

Those two playing cards while everything goes down around them is so relatable

"Nooooo you wanna kill 'im!!"

Shiftaaaayy

Ah wam bam bam

Omg this bit gives me life and the fact it actually happens is just so much better

Fun fact Luz actually didnt get caught for this cus nobody wanted to "rat him out"

"There should be no fence here." "Uh... we could go over it sir"

"Hey luz. Can you do major horton?" "Does a wild bear crap in the woods son?"

Luzs smile:')

Tipper knows whats up. He smiling real goofy

"What. is the god...damn hoooold up mistersobel?"

The way winters manages to command his men so well. So precise. So beautiful.

"Youve done it now yanks. Youve captured me."

Winters chuckle😂

Omg malarkey and perconte in those vests is too much

Oi pal dont just drive through a game of basketball

Nixons "mmhm" to evans

"For crying out loud. Misspelled court martial"

Fun fact Winters actually didnt say any of this to sobel, he just took sobels nonsense quietly but still requested a trail by court martial

"May i borrow your pen sir" *imediately takes pen out of sobels hand*

Sobel ws such a bad leader in the eyes of the men that this group of ncos all refused to serve in easy company even though it meant they could be killed.

In formation

Winters afection for easy. "Never put yourself in a position where you can take from these men"

Nixons french

EUGENE

I could use some brass knuckles

EUGENE (its a reflex at this point)

Liebgott pls no spit

DONT USE THE LEG BAGS JUST CUS THE ENGLISH TROOPS USE THEM stick to your guts

"Tonaaaght is the naaahgt..... of nights."

EUGENE

Theres always one guy who talks during a film

Round of applause for frank j hughes for that reaction

Somber music for a somber mood

DOC ROE

Winters looks at them all in the eye after helping them up and i want to know if the extra long shot of roe and winters hands was done on purpose or....