#i think it’s when you can blur the lines of platonic and romance just enough to get away with it

[justaz]

i’m gonna say something controversial that may get me cancelled but it’s time i own up to the truth…

i don’t care for enemies to lovers.

there. i said it.

enemies to lovers just doesn’t Do It for me.

the trope i love the most is actually (best) friends to lovers.

i’m sorry to anyone i’m letting down but i just couldn’t live a lie anymore. enemies to lovers can be done well, don’t get me wrong, but friends to lovers is the best trope in my opinion.

i hope you guys can forgive me.

[papiliotao]

꒰ 𝒂 𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✩࿐

pairing: lyney x gn!reader

content: fluff, modern au, high school au, friends to (almost) lovers, mutual pining, theatre kids, lyney and the reader rehearse a kissing scene

summary: playing the role of his lover in a drama production is easier said than done, especially when you’re just beginning to realize the nature of your feelings for him.

a/n: i had no inspiration for a while but then lyney came along. i’m so normal about him. anyway, i hope you enjoy reading!

When you were told that you had to kiss your best friend for a school play, you were in shock and disbelief — not because you were repulsed by the thought of playing the part of a couple, but because you realized that you didn’t mind the idea of his lips pressed against yours.

You’re not quite sure when the feelings crept up on you, dawning in your heart like the hazes of peach and azure that dust the horizon at sunrise. It feels like it’s been an eternity since you started loving Lyney, but you’ve just never noticed that your adoration was beyond platonic. 

However, after experiencing your epiphany, you’ve been wondering if he shares your rose-tinted sentiments. Slowly but surely, you observe that the lines between friendship and romance have become blurred, fusing together in a myriad of watercolour hues.

Every once in a while, Lyney will hold your hand for no reason, the softness of his skin akin to the caress of gilded threads of sunlight. There are also instances where he’ll hug you for just a little too long, clinging onto you as if he never wants to let go. And of course, you’ll never be able to forget the sentimental nights spent gazing up at murals of sparkling constellations dotting pristine navy skies, where you cuddle with your best friend in an attempt to stay warm.

In these instances, a simple question lingers in the short silences, an untold inquiry that neither of you care to utter in fear of shattering the status quo.

What are we?

So now, as you sit across from Lyney atop the velvety cushions of his living room couch, ready to rehearse very kiss that sent you spiraling into a bout of infatuated hysteria in the first place, your heart can’t help but race. The melody it sings is one that speaks of perplexing feelings and a hope for fairytale endings, and it only amplifies as you look into pale violet eyes that sparkle as iridescent petals flutter about in their depths.

“I’m ready whenever you are,” Lyney whispers, smiling at you reassuringly. There’s something soothing about the expression on his face, embodying the serenity of a marine zephyr in the midst of a cruel summer.

“How can you be so calm when we’re about to practice a kiss?” you ask, voicing your thoughts out loud. “What if we’re not good enough?”

Truthfully, you’re a nervous wreck. Your fingers tremble, and your mind feels blank. You’ve always known that Lyney was born to be on stage, but you didn’t think he’d be so nonchalant in a situation like this. His disposition is completely composed, not a single spark of anxiety shining through his tranquil demeanour.

On the other hand, you’re constantly pondering the what ifs.

What if you mess the scene up? What if it turns out looking awkward? What if it’s so horrendous that it makes the audience uncomfortable.

However, in total contrast to you, Lyney simply chuckles, his voice ringing out in a clear and soothing fantasia.

“Don’t worry,” he reassures you, keeping his gaze fixated on you. “I’m sure our chemistry will be absolutely perfect. After all, even Lynette has mistaken us for a couple.”

“She has?” you blurt out, both shocked and embarrassed that Lyney’s twin has had her misconceptions about your relationship. The two are practically telepathically linked, so the tall order of fooling Lynette would more or less be akin to deceiving the heavens above.

“She has,” Lyney confirms, a mischievous spark of violet electricity blazing through his irises, “and that’s why I’m certain we’ll be able to pull this off flawlessly.”

He gently laces his fingers around your hand, bringing it up to his chest.

“Besides, it’s not like I’m not nervous at all.” From beneath the soft fabric of Lyney’s clothes, you can feel a gentle thrumming, a beat that resounds at a tempo matching that of your very own heart. “You know, even the greatest of performers get stage fright sometimes.”

In a mystifying twist, you feel more comfortable now that Lyney has told you that you’re not alone in your anxiousness. Your relief defies all logic, but perhaps it’s the knowledge that your feelings aren’t entirely unreasonable that soothes your nerves.

“I see,” you whisper. “Well I’m sure you’ll do great. We’ll get through this together.”

Lyney nods.

“I’m just glad it’s you,” he says, pausing for a moment as if deep in thought. “Actually, ‘glad’ would be an understatement. ‘Beyond overjoyed’ is more accurate.”

Your breath hitches, and for a second, the world seems to still, suspended in a momentary utopia. But despite your giddiness and the euphoric feelings that arise in your heart, you shrug Lyney’s words off, trying your best not to get your hopes up. After all, if you expect too much, you might find yourself disappointed in the end.

“The feeling is mutual. Although maybe we should get to rehearsing now. I think I’m ready,” you tell him, pulling your hand out of his grasp in a light motion, clinging on to the last of his warmth as his skin grazes yours. It’s reminiscent of fading sunlight comforting you with the dazzling radiance of a dying crepuscule, lulling you into a daze as it causes shades of twilight to waltz in a dance of fantastical wonders.

“Your wish is my command,” Lyney responds playfully.

However, after only a few seconds, his features shift into a more serious expression. Although the same smile is still adorning his lips, it’s softer now, more sincere.

Is this all part of an act, or is it real?

Additionally, an unidentifiable emotion now glints in a display of diamond lights, illuminating the seas of amethyst contained within Lyney’s eyes. Locks of platinum hair, composed of starlight essence, frame his face in a way that makes him look undeniably handsome. Once again, your heart, which had just barely stilled, begins to beat in a frenzy.

You want nothing more than to freeze time, stay in this ephemeral moment, relish in the sensation of his breath gently tickling your skin and engrave the ethereal sight before you into archives stored deep within your memories. But unfortunately, it’s impossible to pause the scene before you. Reality, unlike the countless movies and videos you’ve watched to study your part, stops for no one.

And before you know it, the divide between your lips and Lyney’s is diminishing, the blank space fading at a pace that feels both far too rapid yet far too prolonged at the same time.

Closer.

Closer.

And closer.

Until your lips meet in a clash of opalescent sparks, shedding light and embellishing the magical moment with an atmosphere worthy of any stage. The lilac butterflies that dance in the pit of your stomach prompt sensations of glee to arise within your heart.

His skin is soft and warm, and the feeling of his lips against yours is just so right. There’s no one else you’d rather kiss. There’s no one else you’ll ever long for. There’s no one in the world you’ll ever love more.

No matter how much you deny it, your relationship has crossed the line from platonic to romantic, gradually edging closer and closer to a thin border before finally falling over onto the other side. Your kiss with Lyney confirms everything. There’s far too much passion, far too much care and longing exchanged in a single act of affection.

Best friends don’t kiss each other like this.

At this point you’re certain the feeling is mutual. Now, all you have to do is wait until one of you inevitably confesses, and you’ll both be able to finally live happily ever after, basking in the splendor of true love.

thank you for reading <3 if you enjoyed this fic, i would really appreciate it if you could comment or reblog!

[mockerycrow]

i saw ur post on being aro/ on the aro spectrum and it got me questioning…maybe i am too. i don’t really see that term float around a lot so i went on a research journey through the tag and youtube and maybe that’s what i’m feeling. i always just kinda thought i was selfish or too independent and that my line between friends & romantic partner kinda blur, but now that i think about it, i just really want a best best friend that i could fuck.

i think i’m more on the looser end of the spectrum because i do feel romantic attraction and i do feel love and i crave that. but i also am not the lovey dovey type either idk i’m just talking to myself here.

feel free to give advice or delete no worries

hi, no worries!! i’ve known quite a few arospec people in my life and i’ve heard your story a few times :-) when it comes to romance, sexual stuff, friendship, etc—you’re not selfish at all. everyone has their own wants and needs, and yours being different is not selfish at all. something you may be interested is a queerplatonic relationship perhaps?? everyone has different definitions for it, the usual definition is basically a type of relationship between two people that is not romantic in nature, but exceeds friendship—it’s very common for queer folks, especially aroacespec queer folks to have one. it can be similar to a romantic relationship, but it’s not exactly one, but it’s not exactly friendship, either. i recommend looking it up!! maybe it’s something you could be interested in as you said romantic and platonic feelings blur together? i hope this helps!!

my aromanticism is.. hard to explain?? i can feel romantic attraction, but it’s quite hard for me to actually fall in love. but when i do, i fall hard—i also have to be attracted to you as a person before your looks. that probably sounds odd, but it’s just how my brain works. that doesn’t mean i don’t find someone attractive, im just not attracted to them immediately. i also can fall out of love quite easily if i wish to. there’s more to it, but it’s so personal that there’s not enough words for it if that makes sense!!

[giraffeclass]

my personal thoughts about the whole queerbait discourse regarding the daddies that are buddies

So. Do I think Buddy Daddies is queerbait? There's two things to analyze there. First, is the marketing of the show geared towards grabbing a BL audience? I'm not japanese nor speak the language so it's impossible for me accurately make a judgement on that.

But at least regarding the show itself, I don't think so. Like, I don't think the show is promising anything it isn't delivering? It's very straightforward about Kazuki and Rei having a strong partnership as roommates/coworkers/friends, and both being Miri's dads and the three of them being family and that's it, it never hints at anything else, never goes "wink wink nudge nudge are they a couple~? ;333"

Like in episode 4 for example(the daycare episode) it would have been so easy to sneak in some bait-y jokes, have a teacher assume they're a couple and then show Kazuki denying it getting all nervous and blushy, but they don't do that. They directly say "Yes, we are both her fathers" and no other characters in the episode question that or make any suggestive comments. What you see is what you get. It ends up being pretty refreshing how easily accepted it is.

Basically I think the show is like... non-hostile to a queer interpretation while also not feeding any false hope I guess?

And of course there's a lot of subtext, whether that subtext is accidental or not. Just the premise itself is already inherently queer. At the end of the day, this anime has a message of acceptance for non-conventional families, which is very queer-positive, whether intentional or not.

I started this show genuinely thinking it was gonna be generic bait and so far I've honestly just been pleasantly surprised? Like I just don't feel like they're dangling something in front of me or whatever. idk I'm just enjoying the ride lol

also here's the thing. I actually tend to really enjoy the more ambiguous/subtle kind of relationship writing, the kind of stuff that blurs the line between friendship and romance, and so I gravitate towards a lot of stuff that people would usually consider queerbait lol. I just love the concept of two people who have this deep and unspoken trust and love for each other and don't need precise words to define it, or don't know how to define it, or are not emotionally honest enough yet to define it, but the love is clear as day. Like I love it when two characters refuse to even call each other "friend" but you know they would die for each other lmao.

Best example I can think of is G/ood Omens(the show, haven't read the book yet). Lots of queer people complained that they never kiss or outright say "I love you" or anything like that, meanwhile I was there like oh shit, I actually really loved the way their relationship was portrayed in the show and wouldn't change a single thing about it

I do understand the feelings of people who want something that leaves absolutely no room to be interpreted as platonic, and I think we need more of that always. But also I feel like the discourse has lost a lot of nuance, idk. anyway I got off topic oops

[mediacinemtographyartetc]

[In case anyone gives a shit, I'm ace/bi. I love queer romance etc and when I say explicit I don't mean sex. I mean being bold and upfront is it queer or not.]

man in the past I would rip into 'queer' stories on how they're not good enough, especially since it's 2022 and when love,simon came out I feel as if we're going backwards going back to subtext.

And when I point it out others call me queerphobic and yet there the ones who want to keep the status quo.

you have cartoons that have girls kissing, yet men can't even express they love each other almost leads back to sexism and only lesbians are approved for the male gaze. And the only LGBT rep we get are tv series that no one watches compared to love simon we havn't had any movies with lgbt as the main protagonist.

And as an ace I want ALL romanctic/queer stories written with subtext and good chemistry.

So when you see het having sex and lesbians kissing and barely any other type of stories of lgbt that aren't in high school going to prom.

I'm so sorry that I'm bitter and not sucking disney's dick for doing the bare minimum for doing they're 'first' gay characters that they can easily censor for 'international releases' and sorry I'm not nodding along like everyone happy with the 'scrap' that the western media is giving because I'm looking at all of these chinese releases such as White snake/Untamed that was released in a country that is so anti- lgbt make blatant queer content.

Meanwhile ours barely blurs between friendship and subtly romance and when pointed out we have two others argue it's not/is queer in a area that is SUPPOSED to be open and accepting of LGBT I can't help but compare the two and think,

Like companies that paint their logo a rainbow in june meanwhile actively funding anti-gay bills behind the scnes. Like the media we have thats actually trying to subtly shove true lgbt in the closest and make it straight washed comes across like a lie.

And when you have 'ally's tell the queer communtiy that expresses their sexuality that they're fetishishing the lgbt community when it's like, I'm supposed to find women attractive that's the point?

Either way I can't help but I don't feel very prideful instead I just feel disgusted that in the past I could complain that the community has issues and are silencing queer voices because it doesn't align with their family friendly ideals or influencer friendly.

Like June is slowly turning into a holiday to sell LGBT like merchendice like it's a brand and yet fail to use that money to fund LGBT communties- it's just a cash grab and I'm so fucking tired that no one is talking about it.

That lgbt is being exploited that we're not getting explicit movies about the whole community explaining what trans is or intersex etc a movie about a protag exploring their sexuality, a queer couple as adults who are not kids going to prom.

Worse is when people say "It's not subtext it's queer-code!" We don't need codes anymore. It's either queer or it's not. Queer code was fine in the 90's 20's. It's 2022. We should have MORE stories more quantity so excuse me for wanting better written stories that explores sexuality.

Excuse me for wanting a lot of stories that explore peoples relationship without using sex/kissing etc.

So yeah as an asexual I can't help but feel disgusted that people are using my sexuality as an EXCUSE to keep the lgbt stories as queer-code/subtle combared to the BLATANT hetero stories, and when I express my disgust they immedeitly become vulgur and say that if you want LGBT stories in that way you sexualising it.

As if to say that LGBT is deviant, and sexualised is digusting a platonic relationship/domestic relationship can still be conveyed WITHOUT being fucking gross about it.

Also, the fact that with current media saying something is 'LGBT' even though it's like grasping at straws and reading between the lines for a bare miniumum of a SLIVER of being queer. Is like a slap to the face.

Compared to 2015-18 we had a slew of LGBT media but now sure we have something in a tv series but I was expecting MORE like i don't know.

A love actually type story of multiple queer relationships. Thats completely platonic i don't know maybe I just want rent.

I also hate when I convey that compared to the 90's that had blatant representation current rep just feels watered down I get ally's calling me homoephobic and it pisses me off. ugh

[thethiefandtheairbender]

also since it’s almost pride month here are some aphobic (ace / aro-phobic) or exclusionist dogwhistles

implying / stating outright that aces are cringy

“i just don’t want people to limit themselves” is basically what one of my family members said to me when i came out, it fucking hurt. don’t do it. you have no idea how much someone has wrestled with their identity

anti / ship policing, bc it’s predicated on purity culture and is a gateway to aphobia

saying that young people can’t be ace and that we’ll change our minds and just haven’t met the right person yet

“nobody cares that you don’t want to have sex” 

saying that aspec people are picky or just want to be special

calling us cishet 

getting upset when a character is headcanoned as ace or aro

only headcanoning characters as ace or aro and never shipping them - platonically or otherwise - with anyone

for that matter, treating ace characters and people like a punchline joke, including historical figures or memes. we’re not a cringe compilation

implying / stating outright that QPRs (queerplatonic relationships) are cringy or “you mean like having friends”

calling our history ahistorical and grasping at straws

reading our experiences and dismissing them as “oh but everyone feels that way” -- i got some news for you, bud

making fun of mogai instead of treating the damn thing with nuance

saying that asexuality or aromantic are a tumblr identity (we’re not and exclusionists destroyed our community here years ago, thanks for that)

aro erasure

“wow you don’t see these two characters as boyfriends because the line between romantic and platonic attraction is blurred for you? you must be homophobic” or “this relationship between two same sex characters that closely resembles a QPR isn’t Good Enough Rep and is homophobic because they didn’t kiss” (see: good omens)

making fun of heterosexual aros, heteromantic aces (particularly women bc you just love misogyny directed at “weird” people), and demisexual/demiromantic people especially

dismissing amatanormativity and saying that it doesn’t exist or isn’t a part of cisheteronormativity that fucks literally everyone up

taking posts clearly made to deride us or denounce as (i.e. aces don’t want kissing at pride, aros think all romance is Yucky) on face value and reblogging them as jokes and “discourse”

joking that it’s dumb/cringey/funny for people to want a queer safe space that isn’t as sexualized as clubs and bars

dismissing the fact that aros and aces experience comphet too (hi, op here: i definitely did and it fucked me up, thanks)

“just because you’re ace doesn’t detract from your gayness” and that only queer aces belong in the community (aceness is inherently queer)

an emphasis on lesbianism as Gold Star Gay (as aces often fell under the lesbian umbrella for similar reasons bi women did, historically) or gatekeeping

aphobic gatekeeping is often very similar to transmed or terf gatekeeping (sincerely an ace, aro trans person); if you can learn how to identify one, you can learn how to identify the other

along that vein, tagging things as q slur. i won’t trust you three separate fronts in case you’re a terf/exclusionist, congratulations

in other words, sincerely from an ace, aro spec, pan, nonbinary person

[bloodofvalyriaarchive]

the line begins to blur, part one. | cyberpunk 2077

ao3 link here, give me some love if you can! words: 941 warnings: sex mention, alcohol mention. the girls are drunk and havin’ a time. no major spoilers. v has feelings for johnny and hangs with the aldecaldos. pairings: johnny silverhand x fem!v, fem v & panam palmer (platonic)

“Any beer left in there?” V lazily pointed over Panam as they laid in the dirt with their bellies facing the sky. She kicked at the box and it sounded disappointingly empty.  

“I think we polished ‘ em  all off.” Panam laughed as she propped herself up on her elbows. V struggled to sit up, her vision started to  blur,  and the all the familiar ache clouded her vision, making her wince. Panam knew better to ask her if she was okay. She wasn’t, but that’d be the day she’d  actually admit  it.  

They sat for a minute and watched the few stragglers who were still up, sitting by the fire. Panam sighed and tossed a rock into the darkness. “Good God, I need to catch a dick.”  

V’s laugh could have woken half of the  Aldecaldo  camp. “Give one of the  veterans  a whirl! I’m sure one of ‘ em  would be happy to give you a ride.”  

“Christ, V!” They both cackled loud enough for it to echo through camp – nothing the nomads weren’t used to by now. “Don’t think they could keep up with me.” Panam chimed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “You know, Saul and I almost did once. Thank fuck we  didn’t,  or this family would be more screwed than we already are. Or one of us would be dead.”  

“Yikes. But I mean... imagine the hate sex you two would have.” The girls both laughed again as they stumbled to their feet. Stretching and brushing the dust off their clothes, not that it helped any – there seemed to be no escaping it in camp.  

V rummaged through her belongings until she found a half-emptied bottle of warm  liquor . The label had been long worn off, but it didn’t matter what it was this late into the night. These were the best of times, sitting with Panam until the early morning hours, laughing and gossiping like little girls. V felt like she had known her since childhood. And sometimes she was sad that she hadn’t.  

Then sometimes she thought about just riding out her last weeks, months, maybe even years if she was lucky, with the  Aldecaldos . No more jobs, no more Nighty City or  Arasaka  – no more bullshit. But she knew Panam and Mitch would never let her give up that easily.  

Johnny crept back into her thoughts. Not that he was never really gone; she was only more aware of him in moments of silence. V took a long swig from her bottle and shuddered.  

“You know, this engram –  Johnny .”  

“V, you know we don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to...”  

“No, no... I do.” V felt her chest tighten as she thought about him. Another familiar feeling, another thing she tried to swallow and ignore. But she knew he knew...  he had to . “Sharing your head with someone can be so...”  

“Horrifying?” Panam followed suit and took a swig.  

“Yes. But also, strangely... intimate. It's fucking infuriating at times but... he’s become such a strange comfort to me in all this shit. I don’t know how to describe it.” V’s eyes darted around the tent, looking for him. She knew he was there; he always was. But not seeing him made it all easier to put into words. Well, that and the liquor.  “I look for him everywhere. I know he’s here... well, I mean, in my head. But I always want to see him. Fuck, he used to piss me off so much...”  

“Jesus V, this is starting to sound like some  stockholm syndrome love confession.”  

“It's fucking twisted, isn’t it?” V covered her face with her hands, hoping he wouldn’t pop out in front of her.  Not fucking now . “I see it though, I see the way he sees me, I mean. And  it's  how I feel every fucking time he’s around. I  wanna  reach out and touch him.  I want him to touch me ... I  wanna  be alone with him and really know him. Outside of this fucking mess.”  

There was a long silence. It took a lot to render Panam Palmer fucking speechless, but there they were.  

“ So,  what...  do you love him ?”  

The static headache started again, and V rubbed her temples in hopes it would subside. “I don’t know... it’s probably just this fucking engram scrambling my brain and completely taking over. Mother fucker definitely does have a hard on for himself.’ V heard Johnny’s laugh behind her, but only saw cigarette smoke materialize for a moment. “Just forget I ever said anything. It’s so fucked up.”  

“No,  V . I mean yeah... It sounds absolutely nuts, but hey, I’ve seen the old vinyl covers... and those leather pants  do   kinda  do it for me.” Panam smiled and squeezed V’s hand in reassurance. “Could be some romance novel. Girl falls in love with the ghost of a  Rockstar .”  

V rolled her eyes and laughed, trying to ignore the incoming hangover that was starting to dawn on her. “I should try and sleep a little.”  

“You’re right about that.” Panam got to her feet and peaked out the tent door. The sky had started to change to a lighter hue of blue. “Don’t worry okay? This... This is all  gonna  work out. And in the meantime, I'm here.”  

V curled up on her cot as Panam left. She tossed and turned for a bit before she started to drift away. But then she felt it – a warm familiar, calloused hand lightly pushing the hair out of her face, and a thumb ghost over her cheekbone. But when she opened her eyes no one was there.  

Johnny .    

[n-blanca-archived]

↳ CLASS 1-A HC’S TO MAKE YOU SMILE (hopefully) 

A/N: i’ve been on class-1a brainrot (yes, all of them. collectively) for SO LONG and honestly? I love it here. romance is all good and dandy but FRIENDSHIP? good shit. 

on that note, these pairings are all platonic! just little things i like about their dynamics or things i think they’d do when they hang out :) feel free to see them as romantic though, not like i can stop you :P

p.s sorry for dipping??? for like months???

genre: fluff

warnings: minor situational angst

→ Denki & Izuku

❑ These two boys are the other’s hype-man, totally. Kaminari absolutely does not mind sitting through Izuku’s ravings about the fluctuating hero rankings, or even just the times where Izuku mutters on and on. 

❑ Kaminari’s been ignored enough times to know that it doesn’t feel good at all to want to talk to someone and for them to sheepishly tell you they’d long since stopped listening. Izuku does the same for Denki, no question. Sometimes Denki starts talking, and he doesn’t really...stop. 

❑ But Izuku finds it’s nice to hang out with the boy, and he doesn’t mind not contributing to the conversation when Denki looks so elated to see someone listening for once. 

❑ While I will forever be the number one advocate for Bakugou tutoring Denki and finding different studying strategies that work for Denki instead of giving up on him, I think Izuku’s just as likely to do that for kami! 

❑ It’s a frustrating first session, but once Izuku’s brian suggests that Kami might just need another method of studying, he takes that idea and runs with it. 

❑ The next week, kami goes to Izuku’s room a little afraid of the freckled boy rejecting him- but to his surprise, Izuku presents him with all types of new study methods, including colored index cards and a home-made sentence reader that covered the entire page except for one line at a time.

❑ (yes, he did tear up for a second.) 

❑ They end up going through that week's chapter in half the time it usually took Denki to get a subject, and they got to play video games afterward! 

→ Ochako & Katsuki

❑ While I don't think the boys in 1-A look down on the girls in the sense of "but they're girls so they are weaker :(" all that much- Katsuki was the first and only one really to make that clear. He didn't see her as something or someone to pity. She was an opponent and a damn capable one at that.

❑ So, yes. Maybe Ochako and Katsuki aren't exactly best friends who'd die for each other. But they’ve proven to each other that if there's someone who'll bring their all to a fight no matter the circumstance, it's each other.

❑ Ochako’s weariness when it came to Katsuki was short lived. It was kind of hard to be so...afraid of someone who treated you better than others seemed to coddle her when she told them she was a hero-in-training. 

❑ It starts small, too. At first it was just teaming up occasionally during class for spars. Then it was going to the gym after school with Katsuki and Eijirou. 

❑ Tiny little hang-outs like that then turn into joining the blonde on his morning runs every once in a while, and eventually Ochako found herself seeking out Bakugou every weekend, and the blonde seemed to be on the same mind-track, too. Every Sunday, when Ochako pulled open the front door, she spotted Katsuki, stretching out in the front lawn, waiting for her. 

❑ (and if they occasionally have breakfast together after their bi-weekly sunday training sessions, then that's their business.)

→ Shouto & Eijirou

❑ them hanging out wasn't really ever. Expected. Like, at all.

❑ but kirishima's shown that he has a knack for weird, almost hostile awkward boys with low friend counts

❑ so shouto fits right in

❑ really it starts when Kirishima finds Shouto in the common room, staring into space. Usually he'd leave him be, but it was weird to see the boy without his group of friends joining him

❑ in an effort to get to know shouto better, kiri offers to play a few rounds of super smash bros,,, and shouto just. blinks. at him. And kiri blinked back for a second before he realizes shouto didn't know what super smash bros was

❑ and of course, to kiri, that's absolute blasphemy

❑ so kiri abandons his trip to the kitchen in favor of sitting next to shouto on the couch, and teaching him how to play as many video games as they could fit in one night

❑ (the first time kiri sees shouto laugh, he can't help the way his face splits into a grin. Todoroki, while not mean, was someone who came off as cold most of the time, so to see him so relaxed made Eijirou feel warm.)

❑ somehow it becomes a regular thing-- shouto would come downstairs, and eventually Kirishima would show up. Sometimes they were both alone, sometimes they were surrounded by their friend groups. But every time without fail, Kirishima would take his place next to shouto, hand him the blue controller that he favored, and turned on the TV to select the first game they'd be playing

❑ (watching Shouto start to gain some of Kirishima's vernacular was also an interesting - read:hilarious - experience)

→ Mina & Yuga

❑break dancing buddies

❑ like. I'm not kidding these two have moves.

❑ well. Mina does, at least. Aoyama gets it pretty quickly but it took him a second to familiarize himself with how your body moves when your break dancing.

❑ aoyama's danced ballet most of his life, so dancing wasn't new to him

❑ but this particular type of dancing was new to him- so of course he reached out to mina after the UA festival

❑ mina, ever the angel, agreed!!!!! Dancing buddies!!!

❑ Mina's also loved dance for a good amount of time

❑ it started in middle school, and just carried into highschool. The idea of being to express yourself with your /body/ was exciting, plus you looked really cool while doing it too!

❑ so when she gets asked by Aoyama to teach him how to breakdance she's nervous, but completely giddy to be able to be someone else's intro to a hobby that was a big part of her life

❑ it's not an uncommon sight to see mina and Aoyama, in their workout clothes, working through moves Step by step with Mina's phone blasting some random song that was beat heavy

❑ (Aoyama would be an interesting extra add on to the bakusquad. Am I wrong? No 🚗)

→ Hanta & Tsuyu

❑ Sero never really interacted with tsuyu, not to say he didn't like her! she just wasn't in his social circle

❑ so to say he felt awkward when he found her in the corner of the library during free period- curled up and sniveling away - was an understatement

❑ still, he put down the fourth issue of a manga he was /really/ looking forward to catching up on, and sat next to her until she calmed down enough to tell him what's wrong

❑ turns out, winter always sucked and made her tired, which made her sad. Added on to the already existing amphibian instincts in her that hated loud noises or too many people, it could get really overwhelming for her

❑ Sero offered to let her into his room whever she wanted to hang out in the quiet, if she felt embarrassed to do so with her closer friends

❑ she seemed surprised, but quickly agreed.

❑ Sero wouldn't tell her, but he often felt the same in a sense. The only two people in his friend group who could be relatively quiet in more personal settings were Bakugou, ironically, and Kirishima. So he often found himself leaving group hang-outs just a little early, to destress in his quiet room.

❑ tsuyu hadn't expected him to stay with her, and especially not offer his room to her whenever she needed to get away. Still, she agreed, knowing she'd probably never take him up on his offer

❑ she was proven wrong three days later, when Ochako squealed about...something.

❑ tsuyu couldn't say for sure what the floaty girl was yelling about. Normally she was attentive, really! But her head was throbbing and she was on the verge of falling asleep then and there when Ochako burst into a loud yell of excitement, startling the frog-like girl

❑ so tsuyu gathered her stuff as quickly as her sluggish body allowed, rushed out a quick goodbye to her baffled friends and made her way to the dorms

❑ the elevator was a struggle, with the humming of the machinery almost lulling her to sleep. She made it out successfully, though due to her drowsiness and increasingly blurring vision, she realized just a little too late that she had wandered down the wrong hallway

❑ sero's name plate made her stutter in her tracks, but after a moment of deliberation that left her swaying on her feet, she knocked as strongly as she could on the thin door, hoping the lanky boy was in his room

❑ thankfully, he was, and he only offered her a small smile before ushering her into the room and guiding her to his bed. Tsuyu thinks she croaked out a tiny "thanks", but she couldn't really be sure

❑ she slept better in those 39 minutes than she had in weeks

❑ after that, tsuyu somehow got into the habit of wandering down the opposite hallway once she left the elevator, and most of the time Sero would open his door when she knocked, only giving her a smile before letting her wander to his bed or, more commonly, the pile of blankets and bean bags he had in a corner of his room.

❑ (she wouldn't admit it, and neither would he, but the times where they walked back to his dorm together once their free period began were their favorites. and the days where tsuyu wasn't so sleepy and they talked for the hour they had weren't so bad, either)

okokok i’m cutting it here since that last section was super long! who knew i had so much to say about hanta and tsuyu ,,,, 

anyway! this was super fun, so i’ll definitely be doing stuff like this more in the future. if you have two characters you’d particularly like to see, don’t be afraid to jump into my ask box! 

[heartofsnark]

I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship (Misty/Fem!V/Jackie) Smut

Notes: Sooooo, this isn't really canon to my V's like story, as far as like her actual series goes (which you should look at if you want plot with your porn ayyy) but more of a fun what if, that I was possessed to write at 8am and am now publishing at 2:40 am cause I've lost control of my life and wanna see these three fuck. 

Warnings: Vaginal sex, cunnilingus, creampies, unprotected sex (fucking wrap it before you tap it, fucking hell Jackie) blowjobs, oral sex, licking cum out of a vagina, just porn, so much porn.

Summary: V has a problem, many problems, but we're focusing on the one for today. Her, Jackie, and Misty are friends; really good friends. Completely platonic and chill friends. They're her best friends in fact, the closest friends she's ever had. So, why does she want to fuck them so bad? 

*Also, the V in this is my own, she is a cis woman and also deaf. 

V has a problem, multiple problems if she’s being honest, but one in particular has been overwhelming her as of late. She doesn’t do romantic love, she’s told herself time and time again. A misguided crush as a child and a ‘what could have been’ when she was a slightly older child. Times when she thought she was in love or could have ended up there, but her hopes were dashed with cruel words or chance. And every other encounter since has been either platonic or just sex. You can be V’s friend or you can fuck her; no room for romance or muddy waters in the merc’s heart. 

At least that’s what she says. 

At least that’s what she thought. 

Then she met Jackie and Misty. The Heywood boy who took her in. His sweetheart of a girlfriend. Her feelings are platonic, she tells herself. Friends, practically family, a platonic sort of love she’s so rarely found. And that’s more than enough, her feelings and desires don’t go  beyond that, she tells herself. 

She watches Jackie workout at times, meant to spot him.  His muscle corded arms strained as he lifts weights, veins prominent and sweat tracing patterns down his skin. Freckled face flushed with exertion and V’s mouth dry at the thought of tasting the salt of his skin. 

But, they’re friends. 

V will catch herself staring at Misty from time to time when she visits the older woman’s Esoterica shop, getting tarot card readings and helping sort any new inventory that’s come in. Never missing the way Misty’s skirt rides up her thighs, showing a peek of soft thighs wrapped in fishnet stockings. 

But they’re friends. 

It's purely platonic when Jackie ruffles her hair, a big warm hand the size of her head, a grin wider than a canyon and sun glinting off his gold cyberware. The butterflies in her stomach and the flush on her face mean nothing more, they’re friends. 

And it's strictly platonic when she and Misty bleach their hair together, legs practically entangled when they wait on the couch together. The way V’s breath catches at the press of skin and the sound of Misty laughing is just…  They’re friends, really, just friends. 

They’re just friends, her mind screams when she’s sharing a bed with Jackie, pressed close to his warm body and inhaling the smell of his cologne. His large arms wrapped around her and thoughts flickering to if he’d let his hands move lover. 

Just friends, she tries to beat into her own head, when she’s reminded of Misty’s hands gently holding her bruised chin after a bad gig. Close enough V could nearly kiss her black painted lips, what would it feel like having dark lipstick smeared across her neck? 

They’re just friends, but sometimes she wishes they weren’t; she tells herself in shame after a night spent thinking of them in Jackie’s bed, him out on a date with Misty. V’s hand wet with her own slick after hours imagining she was pressed between them, the smell of her sweat sticking to his sheets. 

Moving out will help, she decides. A little more space, a few more boundaries will keep those lines from blurring so easily. Her friends, just friends, are there to help her move in and set up her new megabuilding apartment. 

Once everything is settled in, V orders them all takeout for dinner, the least she can do. The trio sits on the floor around her table, the holoprojector showing advertisements above their head. The curved built-in sofa is behind them, but its too far from the table to comfortably eat, plus it doesn’t afford the comfort of being closer to each other. Misty and Jackie sitting, nearly on top of each other across the table from V.  Trying not to stare at the way his fingers toy with Misty’s sweater. 

“Can’t believe you’re actually moving out, chica,” Jackie comments after swallowing down a mouthful of dumplings. She swears she hears a hint of melancholy in his voice, but maybe it’s wishful thinking. 

“Can’t mooch off of you and Mama Welles forever,” she signs and talks, comfortable talking when it's just them. The words flow easier, her throat less raw and blocked off. 

“For the billionth time, you ain’t no fuckin’ mooch, V.” 

“So you say.” V rolls her eyes and takes a drink of Nicola. 

“Personally, I’m happy about it,” Misty states and that soda suddenly feels like cement in V’s throat. One of her worst fears potentially realized, that Misty or Jackie see her as an interloper, an intrusion on their relationship. That Misty is sick of some random woman sleeping in her boyfriend’s bed.

“Why’s that?” Jackie asks, half of an eggroll in his mouth.

“‘Cause now I don’t have to sneak around Mama Welles to see V, too.” 

“Oh,” V swallows hard, feeling the air return to her lungs, “that’s right, I’ll never understand that whole thing. ”  

Misty is one of the sweetest people in the world and V’s always considered Jackie’s mom just as nice, but for some reason the two can’t seem to see eye to eye. Mama Welles hung up on Jackie getting back with one of his ex’s. 

“She’ll come around eventually, Ma just takes a while to warm up to people.” 

“Me, not people, just me. Pretty sure, she’d jump for joy if you and V were dating,” 

V chokes on her noodles, heat flushing up to her hairline at the thought. Not helping, Misty, not helping. Misty laughs at her, V trying to recompose herself. 

“Why would you say that?” 

“Uh, ‘cause it’s true!~ She adores you, V. Not that I can blame her.” 

“Pfft,” V rolls her eyes, scoffing, “trust me, she’d turn on me in a heartbeat if I tried to steal away her precious baby boy.”  

V teases Jackie, reaching across the table to squeeze at his cheek, he smacks away her hand, grinning and a flush of red across his cheeks. 

“Fuck off!” 

“True, she is so protective of her precious, Jaquito~” Misty joins in, giggling and scratching her nails along his chin. 

“I didn’t sign up to be harassed today,” he pretends to complain. 

“No sign up necessary, my harassment comes free and unsolicited~,” V reaches for an eggroll and accidentally knocks an open can of cola into Jackie’s lap, “shit!” 

“Ah, fuck,” Jackie flinches a bit as cold soda hits his crotch. 

“Sorry, sorry,” V blurts out, grabbing up napkins and starting to reach over the table to dry him. 

“I, uh, got it! It’s fine!” Jackie quickly stops her and she realizes she was a fraction of an inch away from trying to rub his dick dry. 

“Uh, right, sorry, I, sorry.” V falls back on her but, trying to pretend she isn’t embarrassed by the instinct. 

“Its okay, V,” Jackie insists, trying to dry his pants, “what’s a wet sticky dick between friends?”

“Jackie!” V yells at his innuendo, the audacity of this man, meanwhile Misty is giggling behind her hand.

“It shouldn’t stain,” Misty says when she stops giggling, rubbing Jackie’s shoulder, “I think you left some clothes at my place, you can change there, so you don’t have to wear wet pants all the way back to Heywood.”

And that’s right, they’ll be leaving at some point. She’ll be having her first night alone in her apartment, just her…  She taps her fingers against the floor, staring at a seam on her couch. She’s an adult, she reminds herself, she can handle being alone. 

“Yeah, we’ll go ahead and get out of your hair, V.” 

“Yeah, yeah, appreciate the help,” she hopes her signing and voice don’t give away her discomfort. Then there’s a gentle hand over her own, neatly painted black fingernails on her skin, warm and smooth skin compared to V’s more calloused flesh. Misty having shifted closer to the side of the table, so she could reach V. 

“Unless, you don’t want us to go?” 

“Uhh,” what kind of adult can’t be alone in her own apartment, V admonishes herself, “I-” 

“You still have trouble sleeping alone, right?” Jackie asks, raising an eyebrow, eyes concerned. 

“I mean… I don’t expect anyone to coddle me, I-” 

“It's not coddling, V, we care about you. Adjusting is hard and if us sleeping here tonight helps, we’re happy to do it.” 

“You know we’d do anything for you, chica.” 

“Uh, okay then, I can sleep on the couch and you two can have the bed-” 

“Pffft,” Jackie scoffs, “don’t be stupid,  we’ve been sharing a bed half that size for the past three months, V. The last thing I expect is for you to sleep on the couch.” 

“Okay, if you’re both cool with it.” 

And that’s how she ends up in her new bed with her two friends. Misty wearing a set of V’s sleep clothes, the shorts and shirt riding up slightly on the older woman just a few inches taller than the merc. Jackie stripped down to just his boxer briefs and V is accustomed to that she reminds herself, her partner in crime, sleeping in his underwear next to her more times than she can count. But, lately everything feels...muddier. 

V faces the wall, on her side, Misty and Jackie cuddling behind her. They nearly pulled her between them, but she stopped them, insisting she sleep fine so long as there’s just someone near her. And that’s true, the warmth and knowledge that she’s not alone helps plenty, but more so she’s just not sure she would have survived the night pressed between them. Even like this… she struggles to sleep, feeling their bodies radiating warmth behind her.  She stares at the wall and tries to name stars, her go to trick for sleeping. 

Then there’s shifting movement behind her, the feeling of the bed shifting a bit, and Misty’s foot slightly nudging V’s ankle. The little merc twists around onto her other side to see what’s going on, if Misty or Jackie need something and her breath catches in her throat. 

Misty is pressed tight to Jackie’s chest, the couple spooning with her back to his front. His face is pressed into her neck, V can’t hear his face nor read his lip, but she can see them moving against Misty’s skin. Jackie’s large hands are toying with Misty’s body,  one hand down between her thighs and the other pushing her shirt up to grope her breast. Misty’s eyes are shut, head arched back just slightly, mouth slightly open as her boyfriend teases her. 

V can’t help but stare, face a sharp shade of crimson, at the sight of the shirt being pushed up to reveal the underside of Misty’s breast, the muscles in Jackie’s forearm tightening as he fingers her.  Its a lot to take in, the sight, the feelings; the knowledge that they’d do this just inches from V. Desire and heat build in her center, her cunt getting wet at watching her friends fool around, finding herself imagining what it’d be like to have Jackie’s thick calloused fingers pushing inside of her or how soft Misty’s breast would feel in her hand. Then Jackie pushes the shirt all the way up above Misty’s chest, plump breasts and stiffening nipples on full display. 

V shouldn’t be seeing this; shame and humiliation mix with her arousal. 

Friends. They’re friends, damn it!

The speed at which V turns away from the sight, sends her half into the wall; knee and hands hitting it. She can feel Misty and Jackie shooting up behind her, mattress shifting, V tries to burrow down into her pillow hoping the two will somehow be convinced she just moved in her sleep. But the hand rubbing over her shoulder tells her that’s not the case. She forces herself to sit up and face her friends, just friends… 

Misty and Jackie are sitting up more in the bed, Misty’s clothes back in place. Their faces are both flushed, Jackie isn’t making eye contact with V.  Misty hands V her hearing aid case, a gentle unspoken request for her to put them in so it’s easier to talk. And V doesn’t want to talk about it, doesn’t want to deal with this, doesn’t want to ruin this. But she can’t deny the soft look in Misty’s emerald green eyes, sliding her hearing aids in. 

“Sorry, chica…” Jackie awkwardly apologizes the second V can hear.

“Okay…night... ” Is all V can manage, hoping this will be the end of it, hoping she doesn’t have to confront everything swelling up inside of her. V reaches up to take out her hearing aids, intent on just quickly pulling them out and rolling back over, to pretend this never happened. 

Misty’s hand reaches her face first, cupping V’s chin and forcing the merc to make eye contact. Though her eyes do drift back and forth between Misty’s lips and eyes. The closeness makes it all the  more tempting to just kiss her… 

But Misty beats her to it, nothing but tender press of their lips together. And V never in a million years believed of the three that Misty would be the one to break first.  Yet here they are, a soft kiss that lasts all of a moment before Misty starts to pull away, a quick peck meant to test the waters, but V chases after it, capturing the older woman’s lips again.  Her kiss is a far cry from Misty’s, hungrier, deeper and anything but chaste as she pushes her tongue into the blonde’s mouth. 

“Shit,” Jackie curses, voice low and hungry as he watches his girlfriend and best friend makeout. V smiles into the kiss, finally breaking away. 

“We’re a pair of  Catholic school girl uniforms away from acting out Jackie’s favorite BD, aren’t we?” V can’t help but tease remembering a few… select pieces from her friends collection. 

“Hey!” 

V falls back against the bed laughing, that sort of tension and fear melting away. Misty and Jackie laugh too; the sound music to V’s ears, the merc suddenly thankful she kept the hearing aids in.  They kissed and the world didn’t end. There’s no irreparable damage and if they wanted maybe they could all leave it there, a weird exchange that ended in laughter. Nothing has to change. One kiss between friends, no big deal. 

Then Misty is climbing over her, moving to be on the other side of V, pressing against that side as Jackie moves in closer; placing her between them. 

“Hello, can I he-” she starts to tease, then Jackie’s lips are on hers. His large warm hand on her chin, keeping her in place as he pushes his tongue into her mouth. She works to meet his movement, to give as good as she gets, kissing him back with the same passing. A moan leaving the back of her throat and dying on Jackie’s tongue when he shifts the angle to kiss her deeper. She grabs his bicep, feeling his muscles to anchor herself. 

And, okay, it’s two kisses now. What’s two kisses between friends?

Jackie pulls away, pressing his forehead against hers, rubbing his thumb over her chin. 

“Been wanting to do that for a while, mija,” he admits tenderly. 

And that’s it, it's all too far gone and she’s done caring. 

“Need you, both of you,” V finally says it, puts the words out into the world and prepares herself for what comes next. 

Then Jackie pulls her shirt off over her head, leaving V’s breasts exposed, her nipple piercings glinting in the lowlight of the room.  Delicate fingers push past the waistband of V’s shorts, Misty finding and stroking V’s clit as Jackie dips his head to suck at the merc’s breast. She whimpers at the treatment, overwhelmed and squirming as the couple plays with her body. Slick coats Misty’s fingers and V’s thighs, the merc’s cunt clenching with every rub of her clit. Jackie’s tongue teases and licks at her piercing, he sucks at her breast, feeling her nipple stiffen on his tongue. Misty’s fingers slip lower, pushing inside of V. Its all too much, V’s pleasure building higher and higher inside of her. Jackie gives a little nip, not a true bite just the slight pressure of his teeth on her breast just as Misty adds a third finger. And it snaps, V crying out as she cums on Misty’s hand, 

Jackie pulls off of V’s breast and Misty pulls slick coated fingers out of her cunt, the merc panting. 

“Didn’t realize you were that sensitive, V,” Jackie teases, breath hot on her ear. 

“Shut up.” 

“It’s cute,” Misty assures her, kissing softly across V’s cheek and neck. 

“So, cute,” Jackie says, but his voice with that edge of condescension before he bites her neck. She whines but responds by rubbing a hand over his cock, grinning when he jumps. 

“Yeah, let's see how well you handle it,” she taunts, pushing him back flat against the bed as she straddles him. 

His hard cock rubs against her, her shorts and his boxers the only thing between them. She kisses across his chest. Tracing her tongue along his tattoos and freckles, sliding her hand between them to palm his dick, feeling the warmth of it through the fabric. She trails her kisses down, watching his head dip back against the pillow, cursing under his breath as she makes her way lower and lower down his torso and stomach. She pulls her mouth away when it hits fabric, as much as she’d love to settle between his legs and tease him through his boxers, She’s not about to forget about Misty. 

V pulls away to press closer to Jackie’s side, looking up to see Misty, staring at them, enraptured. The merc stretches over Jackie’s lap to catch the back of Misty’s head, tangling her fingers in the short layers of hair, bringing the older woman in for another kiss. She uses this to gently pull and encourage Misty over closer, until they’re both pressed tight against one side of Jackie’s legs, making out just above his erection. They break apart, with V giving a soft bite to Misty’s lower lip before hooking her fingers into the bottom of Misty’s shirt pulling it off over her head. She can’t help but get another eyeful of Misty’s chest, before turning her attention back to Jackie, intent on showing why having two people play with you tends to make a person more sensitive. 

V slips her fingers into the top of Jackie’s boxer briefs, starting to pull them down, Misty helping her as Jackie raises his hips for them. The girls quickly getting the boxers off; V swallows hard at the sight of his dick. He’s big, something she always figured considering he’s nearly a giant towering over both Misty and V.  Its flushed red at the head, thick with prominent veins, and leaking precum on his lower stomach. Misty and V get their tongues on him, making Jackie curse aloud. V lapping the head of his cock to taste his precum, teasing her tongue piercing along the flushed sensitive skin. Misty, tracing the underside, licking along the veins and shaft of his cock. 

V pulls away for a moment as Misty licks up Jackie’s cock. The merc watches as Misty takes the length of Jackie’s dick into mouth, inch after inch pushing past her kiss-swollen lips. V takes to licking the places where Misty’s mouth can reach, the part of his cock she can’t force down her throat without risk of gagging, V’s tongue chases after Misty’s mouth as she pulls up, tasting Misty’s spit on his cock, until she’s pulling off his dick with a pop. Before V can follow suit, taking her turn to feel his dick in her throat, he stops them. Large thick fingers tangling in bleached hair. 

“Stop, fuck, fuck, gonna-fuck,” he groans out, nearly choking on his words. 

“Aww, feeling sensitive?” V teases, biting at his thigh. 

“Not helping, V.” 

“I don’t think she was trying to help, Jackie,” Misty jokes, sharing a sly smile with V as they watch Jackie try to keep from blowing his load right there. Jackie reaches down and squeezes Misty’s ass, making her yelp at the sudden attention. 

“Wanna feel you, carina,” he tells Misty, teasing her cunt through her shorts.  

V helps Misty pull off her shorts, leaving her completely naked. The young merc can see the slick sticking to the inside of Misty’s inner thighs and all she wants to do is lap it up. But Jackie is already manhandling Misty, helping her move to straddle his lap, with her back towards him and facing V; reverse cowgirl style.  Misty puts her hands back on Jackie’s chest, leaning her weight back on him as he holds her hips, his fingers squeezing the soft plush flesh. 

Slowly, Jackie pulls Misty down on his cock, making her moan out as he fills her. He bounces Misty on his cock, fucking up into her. V watches agape, not sure where she wants to focus, from where the two meet, his cock pumping into Misty’s tight cunt. Or to Misty as a whole, the woman put on full display for V to watch as her breasts bounce with every thrust and she cries out with every slap of flesh hitting flesh. 

She settles for doing much more than just watching, V dipping her head between their thighs and licking where Jackie and Misty connect. Its a sloppy mess, trying to keep up with Jackie’s pace as he pound into Misty. V laps and licks at his cock where she can, tasting Misty’s slick on him, kissing where Misty’s cunt takes in Jackie’s cock. She sucks and teases Misty’s clit, her own cunt clenching at the way the added pleasure makes Misty scream out. V’s mouth and tongue are everywhere they can be, desperate and sloppy in her rush to taste the couple, to add to their pleasure. 

Misty grabs the back of V’s hair when she cums, pinning the merc in one spot as she screams out her release. V’s left to drool and keep her tongue out as Misty’s cunt and Jackie’s cock rub against her. She tastes the rush of Misty’s slick first, gushing and twitching as her pussy is overwhelmed.  Then V tastes the bitter salt of Jackie’s cum, him cursing as he fills Misty and then keeps cumming, thick white spilling out and dripping back down his cock. The couple still, both panting heavily and Misty relaxing, letting V’s hair go as the young merc continues to lick up the mess. Misty collapses, practically boneless laying on Jackie’s chest. 

Jackie gets his hands under her thighs and starts to bring them back, Misty whimpering as he’s able to hold her legs up, nearly bringing her knees to her chest. The shift in position causes his cock to slip out of her, his cum now spilling freely from Misty’s cunt, a wet messy show for V. 

“Clean her up for me, V?” He asks it as casually as he’d ask V to lend her car. And V is just as happy to oblige. 

V buries her tongue inside of Misty, moaning softly when Misty squeals at the feeling. Its a mess of Jackie’s cum and Misty’s, mingling on V’s tongue as she licks it up like she’s starved for it. Misty is a sensitive mess, being eaten out so soon after being fucked to pieces, but V doesn’t hold back; rubbing a thumb over the woman’s swollen clit while she laps up every drop of Jackie’s cum. There’s a shake in Misty’s thighs, instinct telling her to clench them shut, to trap V between her legs, but Jackie keeps her spread wide; only able to whimper and whine as the mess is licked up as her twitching wet clit is teased alongside every stroke of V’s tongue. 

With each lick V tastes less and less of Jackie’s mess, cleaning up the creampie he’d left inside of Misty. And she doesn’t know what it is that sends Misty over the edge, one too many rubs of V’s thumb over her clit or particularly deep lick, V desperate to truly swallow down every drop of seed. But something does and Misty’s sent into a second orgasm, trembling and gushing against V’s tongue, screaming out as the pleasure consumes her.  The merc slows down gently,steadily  easing Misty through the aftershocks, until she’s done trembling.  

Jackie lets go of Misty’s legs, letting her body relax as she gently moves to lay against his side. His cock is still half hard and there’s an itch inside of V that hasn’t quite been scratched, still wet and twitching between her thighs, the crotch of her thin shorts sticky with slick. But she doesn’t want to push it, she thinks as she goes to lay down on his other side. But, he has different ideas it seems, an idea catching in his mind as V’s in the midst of moving, on her hands and knees about to drop down onto the mattress. Despite his size he moves fast, grabbing at V’s hips and making her freeze, on his knees behind her as he pulls her ass back against his cock. She whines at the friction, as he grinds against her, quickly getting his cock fully hard again. Misty laying against the pillows next to them, satiated and content to watch the V and Jackie chase another orgasm. 

And he yanks her shorts down as far as he can without changing the position, exposing her slick needy cunt. 

“Fuck,” the low hungry curse sends a chill along V’s spine, the head of his cock leaving wet across her ass, before he rubs it over her sex. 

There's a part of her that thinks they shouldn’t, that this is the step too far, a line that can’t be uncrossed; as if she hadn’t just had her face buried in Misty’s pussy. But, she needs this and by the tight hold Jackie has on her hips, he does too. A line that needs to be crossed even if it can’t be undone. An experience that has to be had, just to know what it’s like. 

Then he’s sinking into her, pulling her back onto his cock, filling her. V’s eyes roll back, a silent cry on her tongue as she’s stretched and stuffed. Too much, too much; but exactly what she needs. Despite his size, he fills her easily, her body too needy to resist the push of him into her. He doesn’t give her time to adjust, not that she needs or truly wants it. They’re both at their limit, just needing this, to know what it’s like to be connected this way; to feel his cock pounding into her, to feel her cunt clenching around him. 

She lets him set the pace, too overwhelmed to do anything, whimpering as he brutally fucks her; pulling her back against him as he thrusts forward. Both too far gone and desperate for this to be softer. The skin slapping together, sound ringing out through the apartment, a wet squelch everytime he sinks inside of her. Jackie uses her like a toy, like a human sized fleshlight to chase his own end with. And she knows she means more than that, in the moment it feels good to just be used, to be manhandled and fucked apart, to be a pillow princess taking his dick however he sees fit to give it. Each thrust sending her spiraling deeper and deeper into her pleasure, fucked stupid and mindless, unable to think of anything but how it feels to be fucked by him. 

And that pleasure overwhelms quicker than she expects, bubbling over and orgasm hitting her before she even truly realized she was close. Mind going completely blank and throat raw as she screams out, cumming on his cock, toes clenching. And he fucks her through it, draws it out until he’s cursing under his breath and spilling inside of her. His second load, a little lighter than the creampie he left Misty with, but still thick and too much for V’s cunt to hold; the mess leaking down her thighs as she comes down from her high. 

She whimpers when he pulls out, suddenly empty and more of his cum spilling from inside of her. Jackie collapses, in the middle of the bed, between Misty and V, sweaty and panting. V can’t help but laugh, throwing her shorts completely off, as Misty curls up close to his side. Jackie wraps an arm around Misty’s  hip. His other hand skims V’s back as she leans over them to take her hearing aids out, putting them on the side table, then she’s pulled down to lay against his chest. V nuzzles in, looking at Misty’s face across the expanse of Jackie’s chest, V being held just as tightly to his side. Misty’s hand is on his chest and V reaches up, intertwining their fingers, earning her a soft serene smile from the older woman. 

And there’s a lot that’ll need to be talked about. So many questions as to what this all means; what does V even want this to mean? A one time thing they don’t talk about, don’t deal with. A friendship ruiner, the start of something… new.  So many possibilities and each one brings with it a different sort of anxiety. But for now, she’s content to sleep curled up under the sheets with her friends. 

[barricadebops]

As I'm about 99.9% positive you would agree, I will never understand why people say that Enjolras isn't a good friend or wouldn't be a good boyfriend. Like I get that the revolution and his work was important to him (I personally believe that he would balance his friends and work to the best of his ability), but you cannot tell me that he wouldn't drop everything, including his work, at a moment's notice if a friend needed him. This is something that I believe wholeheartedly, and someone would have to pry this head canon/belief/whatever you want to call it out of my cold dead fingers.

Yes, I of course agree with this 100%. I really don't understand why people would say that either, it is just not him! The thing about Enjolras is that he cares so much, enough to the point where it was what got him killed. Some may argue that he cares more for his cause than for people, and I would say that is because they are viewing the cause and people as two different concepts, when, in reality, they are actually one and the same! Because Enjolras' cause is the people and that includes all people—the common man Feuilly, his (probably previously) wealthy friend Combeferre, and even the man who on several occasions has let him down, disappointed him, and given him all the reason not to trust him, Grantaire. If his cause is the people, how could he ever feel cold towards the people who matter most to him?

I think the idea a vast amount of people have that Enjolras doesn't love comes from the fact that canonically Enjolras does not experience romantic love, and frankly, this sort of thinking is rather dangerous, because it erases the fact that love comes in so many more forms than just romance. Enjolras is filled with an incredible amount of love—love for his friends, love for the people around him, and love for the future, and every one of those aspects links back to the love he feels for those who surround him. It is the love for the people he would encounter everyday while walking on the streets, it is the love for the people he would meet when he would go to buy his bread, it is the love for the friends who would look to him as their beloved friend and leader—it is his love for these people that he launches an entire rebellion— and subsequently dies for it, too. His ideals are defined by the motto of France—liberty, equality, and fraternity—but these ideals are driven by his greatest ideal of all, the one he hold key above others: love, and he makes his value of the ideal abundantly evident in his speech following the execution of Le Cabuc when he says:

"This is a bad moment to mention the word 'love.' I mention it anyway, and I glorify it. Love, the future belongs to you... In the future there will be no killing, the earth will be radiant, the human race will love." (5.12.8.)

From this, it is quite clear that Enjolras does not just experience love, but feels one of the highest and most greatest forms of it, so the characterization that he knows not of the feeling of love is quite unfounded.

He absolutely does love his friends to death. The one time we see him ready to forsake his ideals is when rather than keep the valuable spy Javert, who holds information about the rebels at the barricades, he is willing to hold an exchange so that they may bring back Jehan Prouvaire.

"'Yes,' replied Enjolras. 'But not as much as by Jean Prouvaire's life.'" (5.14.5)

He also sees so much good in his friends, he believes in them wholeheartedly, and for Enjolras, his belief is his expression of love.

"He composed, in his own mind, with Combeferre’s philosophical and penetrating eloquence, Feuilly’s cosmopolitan enthusiasm, Courfeyrac’s dash, Bahorel’s smile, Jean Prouvaire’s melancholy, Joly’s science, Bossuet’s sarcasms, a sort of electric spark which took fire nearly everywhere at once." (5.1.6.)

I've always loved this passage because it allows us to glimpse into Enjolras' mind and see how he truly thinks of his friends, and the way he sees them is incredibly sweet. He sees these people as his brothers who are capable of amazing feats, who are just as passionate as he is, and will be the ones to help him fight for the future. The love he holds for them is incredible, and though we get to see inside of Enjolras' head so little, this passage here is quite enough to inform the reader of just how much Enjolras draws joy from his friends.

In terms of the canonicity of the brick, I have always seen Enjolras' final moment as him realizing and accepting Grantaire's love for him (I would also argue that this moment is also when Grantaire himself, having not known exactly what it was he felt for Enjolras, also realized what exactly he felt for him), but dying with him only as a friend, but the fact that he smiles, and that it is him who extends his hand towards Grantaire says a lot about how strong his platonic love for his friends is. And of course, once again it is not just for his friends; far too many people see Enjolras as a man willing to sacrifice whoever and whatever in order to accomplish his goals, but his words once he discovers that Paris has abandoned their barricade say otherwise. When the rebels stubbornly insist that they all remain, no doubt fantasizing of dying "heroic martyr deaths," rather than encourage them, he instead essentially chides them by reminding them that:

"Vain-glory is wasteful[,]" (5.1.14)

so to paint him as merciless holds no merit. I feel as if this image comes from the quote:

"Enjolras was a charming young man capable of being terrible." (4.4.1.)

While yes, it is very capable for Enjolras to turn ruthless, the key word in that sentence is capable. The word that preceeds it, the one that follows after the definite word was, is the word charming, and the fact that charming is put before terrible holds great significance. Enjolras' first instinct, what comes to him naturally, is to do good, to be good, to be charming. He can be terrible, yes, but he must put his mind into doing so, whereas being a good person comes to him without thinking. Many tend to ignore the first part of the sentence in favour of the second, and they twist it to mean that his first instinct is to do bad instead of good, which really does not define his character at all.

Perhaps the biggest contributor to the misinterpretation of Enjolras' character is the way people have read his dynamic with Grantaire, and the way the lines between canon and fanon Grantaire have been so thoroughly blurred that it has ended up distorting Enjolras' image while erasing major parts of Grantaire's character that makes him the character and to a greater extent, metaphorical representation he is. I will not lie; I write fanfiction, and the version of Grantaire that I write into my stories is most definitely his fanon image; in other words, he is a vastly improved version. But it is incredibly important to acknowledge the way the two concepts deviate from each other, or you'll end up with a situation in which the character you have in mind isn't really the original character itself. It's okay for people to have different perceptions! Everyone understand literature differently, and that's the beauty of the arts! I think it's totally cool that everyone believes in characters in different ways! But for me, it really bothers me the way the fandom tends to paint Grantaire as a saint while portraying Enjolras as a character who always seems to know less than Grantaire, always is on a lower platform than Grantaire, and is always harsh and unjust towards Grantaire, because it simply is not true. A lot about Grantaire is ignored in terms of the canonicity of the brick. For example, it is true that Grantaire is, in fact, ugly, and he's described that way for a specific element of the narrative that Victor Hugo is writing in (@lilys-hazel-eyes is writing a great analysis on morality represented by beauty, which is exactly the point here—you should definitely go check it out!) In the brick, Victor Hugo describes Grantaire's cynicsm to be the "dry-rot of intellect" (4.4.1.) Hugo's stance on nihilism and cynicism is made quite evident in the way he portrays Grantaire, a character meant to represent the physical manifestation of cynicism (some say that he's the physical embodiment of Paris itself and I think that's a really neat reading on that!)

"A rover, a gambler, a libertine, often drunk... Grantaire, with insidious doubt creeping through him, loved to watch faith soar in Enjolras... his soft, yielding, disclocated, sickly, shapeless ideas..." (4.4.1.)

From these descriptions, it is quite clear what sort of opinion Victor Hugo holds of cynics, which is why Grantaire's characterization is so deliberate. He is trying to make a commentary here about the harm those who do not hold passion or belief can do, to both themselves and society. It is why Grantaire's redeeming moment is the one in which he finally comes to accept the hope of the revolution and proves through action his belief in Enjolras.

In terms of what is presented in the brick, Grantaire does not exactly have much to really defend him. Often drunk, he expends his energy into drunk rambles rather than meaningful meeting contributions, (though admittedly, he does say some rather valid and eloquent things within his rambles—the quote "Take away 'Cotton is King,' what remains of America?" [4.4.4] comes to mind) he deliberately pokes and bothers people as seen when he calls Enjolras "heartless," (5.1.6) and when given a task, does not hold up his end of the deal and ger it done despite having asked for it in the first place. Enjolras' doubt in him is actually entirely understandable; after all, what has Grantaire really done to prove himself trustworthy and reliable? When Enjolras asks if "[he is] good for anything" (5.1.6) the question is, likely in his eyes, genuine rather than insulting. And even when he has every reason not to, Enjolras still puts his faith into Grantaire to get something of extreme importance done for him, which I do think says a lot about Enjolras' willingness to believe in the best in people.

Victor Hugo ends the chapter right before we can see Enjolras' reaction to Grantaire's failure, and while this part, I will say, is up for interpretation, personally I have always extrapolated that the most emotion this would draw from him is disappointment—though it is disappointment that he definitely thinks he should have seen coming, rather than imagining him as getting insanely mad at Grantaire.

Their next interaction is during the rebellion itself, during which Enjolras is put under quite a bit of stress and Grantaire's behaviour really is not helping matters, so him snapping is actually very believable, if a little harsh.

The Enjolras seen in fanon, derived from these interactions, always seems so harsh, so rash when he speaks to Grantaire and therefore is characterized as rash and reckless in general, and generally seems to not understand emotion very well, which is very unlike him. Rather than harsh, I would say that with the exception of course of the rebellion at the barricade and the lead up to that time, Enjolras actually seems to be quite calm.

"All held their peace, and Enjolras bowed his head." (4.4.5.)

Rather than instantly explode at Marius for his rather awful beliefs of Napoleon, instead, Enjolras keeps calm and silent, which demonstrates what an incredible depth of patience he has. And as for Enjolras not understanding emotion, when it comes to fanworks, I'm generally tolerant of people holding different perceptions for different characters, but of all perceptions, this one is one I cannot begin to comprehend, and this is one that I will say that to say he knows not of emotion is to have wrongly read his character.

"And a tear trickled slowly down Enjolras' marble cheek." (5.1.8.)

I simply cannot allow myself to believe that the man who cried at the prospect of having to shoot the artillerman, who calls him his "brother," who is no doubt thinking that had circumstances been different, the action he would be taking would not be necessary—I do not believe this is a man who would not understand feelings and emotions.

The Grantaire in the book who has "the dry rot of intellect," (4.4.1) only ever makes unnecessary rants during meetings, and is very much untrustworthy, is a far outcry from the Grantaire who bases his cyncism on being what he would say is being "well informed," often makes valid points in meetings, and proves himself reliable. Similarly, the Enjolras that is thoughful, as he proves himself to be in his "Outlook from the Top of the Barricade" speech, still chooses to believe in the best in others despite being given every reason not to, and is actually quite patient, is very different from his rash and reckless, short tempered, seems-to-hate-Grantaire, fanon counterpart.

Of course, if you take characters who are shaped by their surroundings and circumstances in the nineteenth century and adapt them to fit the scene of the twenty-first century, it's obvious things are going to change! However, I think it's important to keep these key traits in mind when doing so, and more often than not, it is these key traits that end up getting mangled. When one sticks to these traits, it's easy to say Enjolras would be a wondeful friend/boyfriend (if you see him as having one.) Enjolras' whole deal is loving and caring immensely, and to put his absolute one hundred percent effort into everything he does, and that includes into his friendships and relationships.

Once again, I'm not bashing on the fandom here, I'm part of it. I'll repeat again, I too write with the fanon image of Grantaire in my head. Everyone takes away different things from literature, and that's fine! This is simply how I have interpreted it.

One more note on Enjolras.

Les Amis de l'ABC absolutely love Enjolras. The way Enjolras' character has been misinterpreted has ended up having an effect on the way the Amis are looked at as well. The Amis are all so passionate about the revolution, they attend meetings because they truly do believe in the change they can create in their world, so I'll never truly understand the characterization of the Amis as laughing at Enjolras' devotion to the cause, or finding his passion for it stupid or bothersome. Victor Hugo himself describes just how passionate of a group they are:

"All these young men who differed so greatly, and who, on the whole can only be discussed seriously, held the same religion: Progress... The most giddy of them became solemn when they pronounced that date: '89... the pure blood of principle ran in their veins. They attached themselves, without immediate shades, to incorruptible right and absolute duty." (4.4.1.)

Everyone here, with the exception of Grantaire, is here because they believe wholeheartedly in the revolution. This is not something Enjolras forced upon them, this is not something they groan when thinking about, it is something they all believe in so passionately. It is not something they make fun of him for.

"Affiliated and initiated, they sketched out the ideal underground." (4.4.1.)

They are all here by choice, by will, and by the values they hold close to their heart, and so to say Enjolras is someone who constantly whines about his cause and the others think he needs to lighten up is both an insult to him and the rest. Furthermore, the Amis really love Enjolras, and not just as their leader, but as a beloved friend, and as strongly as I believe Enjolras would drop all of his work to help any of the Amis when they are in need, I believe the Amis would do the same for him. The unity of Les Amis de l'ABC says a lot about the kind of charismatic leader Enjolras is, and his friends most definitely adore him.

So yeah, anon, I 100% agree, and rest assured, if they try and take this canon fact away, they'll have to pry it from both our sets of our cold dead fingers.

[aprito]

hello <3 since i got these asks at the same time i decided to combine my thoughts on them in this post. yet another annoying sjw essay from yours truly on this blog 

before i get into these i think i need to preface why im like. i guess overly hyperfocused on a certain unproblematic base (same age au / platonic canon) for them and avoid the ped0philic content like the plague lol

tw for pedophilia ment, rape ment if that makes you squicky. ALSO THIS IS LONG AND RAMBLY

as i’ve mentioned a couple times already, ive been into the ship since i was 12, back when it was very very common to not only post untagged (nsfw) canonverse content of the two in writing and in drawing but also non con and the like, so you can imagine how bad my first impression online was. thinking back on it ...as a child i found it disturbing but didnt really register how problematic it really was?? (i know, but i also lived in the middle of nowhere and had no one explain this to me) 

skip to 2014 aka me coming back to naruto at 17ish and i had kinda become hyper aware of the fact that there was an increasing amount of people online who had come forward with explaining how fictional problematic content, mostly pedophilia, had been used to groom them into starting relationships with adullts. it was also a time where a lot of people didnt believe these victims, not registering how common it was for minors to be online friends with adults who had no boundaries and no qualms exposing them such content. not gonna get into my personal life here but i was lucky to not having gone through this myself. like... it kinda was my first time truly realising how fiction can EASILY be used to manipulate others irl (and yes i will not argue this, if you dont think fictional media can form and manipulate people’s opinions on attitudes, countries, cultures and virtues, pick up a book about the effects of propaganda media at least once please) 

i, being young, still liking the dynamic but not really the romance, would point this out here and there in the fandom and get into fights with grown adults in their mid 20s who assumed i automatically hated the ship(s) and tried to restrict their freedom of speech or whatever, heard everything from the “age of consent doesnt exist in naruto” to the “sasori looks like a child what does it matter” despite people clearly playing on him being older and experienced. it made me so upset that people were just consuming all this content uncritically and exposing children to it tbh?? not really just sos but a lot of minor/adult ships in naruto in general. and thats where i sat down and thought, i do not want to be a grown adult talking down to children that point out how unsafe the fandom is. theyre absolutely right in drawing these boundaries and calling out adults who defend the uncritical consumption and creation of this content. i do not want to consume or create content that predators could use to groom minors, and i absolutely do want to let younger people in fandom know that i am respecting their comfort zones and want them to have a safe and fun experience. after all, naruto is not an adult show and i think a lot of people forget that!!!! i am not perfect in that regard but its something that i, at the age of 23, am very passionate about and strive towards to.

and i guess thats where same age au was born for me and i have been sticking to it ever since. 

so finally we can move to the first question 

aside from the fact that we both dont like canon sos, i dont think it would work out even if i wasnt prejudiced to it anyways. in all honesty, 35 year old canon sasori is not a redeemable character to me, given the fact that he’s easily amongst the cruelest villains in naruto (torturing and killing and taxiderming people for his own fun personal gain, never for a goal that served anyone but himself. how do you redeem having over 300 corpses in your backpack that you felt absolutely no remorse for killing). sasori was legit one of the only cruel villains that didnt had someone else pull the strings, which sends a clear message on kishi’s part, who absolutely loves to redeem villains LOL.

being that old, he obviously had already been very manifested in what he believed in, even if it was shakey, to the point where the first crack in that world view (sakura and chiyo protecting each other) immediately had him give up on his life all together. that, in my opinion, is not a man who’s going to know what healthy relationships would look like, regardless of it being romantic or not. 35 year old sasori to me has the same appeal as an expired can of tuna and he’s probably very happy 6 feet under. he’s supposed to be a failed gaara in that sense that he had no one to look out for him and therefore was never going to experience anything but a bad ending in life. its fine that hes dead honestly, it wraps up his short character development the best IMO.

adding to that, seriously, sakura was obviously interested in knowing why he was that way, and called him out for being seriously fucked in the head, but it’s weird to me that people assume she had any interest in actively rehabilitating him, let alone starting a serious romantic relationship with him. sakura who’s not only very, uhm, immature and straight forward when it comes to her romantic viewpoints also, as a big bootlicker, wouldnt soil her standing in the village by starting anything with a disgraced and far too gone criminal like sasori. shipping that version of sasori with sakura intimately is still going to set her up for a huge power imbalance that would be difficult to handle imo, even if she was the one in the fight ultimately exerting her power over him. i would still look at it and think damn she deserves better than having to play therapist for man like that lol.

additionally, even if you ignored all of this, you cant really ignore that sasori had already known her as a child, and that had been his first and most impactful impression of her. i dont think that sasori would look at 35 year old sakura and see her as a grown woman and not the little green girl she was in the fight. plus, you easily fall into predatory comparison territory between the “childish” and “womanly” and i have seen way too often in fic just being boiled down to her now being fuckable. a lot of of ships do this and i would just like to remind yall thats it not normal for adults to want to start relationships with children they have seen grown up or known as a child when they themselves were fully grown adults. therefore, maybe if sakura hadnt met sasori before it would be less of a problem? but that also obviously defeats the point of the dynamic and the reason he died in the first place. so yeah, it sounds kind of doomed especially if you were to make it romantic. 

WHICH BRINGS ME TO THE SECOND QUESTION

let me preface this that im not fundamentally against age gaps, even if im not super interested in it. after all, colorblind had a 5 yr age gap (with sakura being 21), even if, say, i wrote similar fics today i probably would make it smaller lol. i think it can be handled well if both parties have enough life experience to deal with it, and the author is cautious of where the age gap starts, i think a 10+ year age gap would be fine in a scenario where the younger party (i guess sakura) was at least 25-27ish, meaning she has completed most of her most formative life stages and probably had been in relationships before, meaning she would be able to handle it without having to fear a huge power imbalance. the older the younger party is the less the age gap is going to matter tbh .TsukiHoshino and AngelOfDeath10 both handle age gaps in their fics really well imo, so i do not mind reading about them.

unfortunately, a lot of people in this fandom think making sakura barely "”””legal””””” (18, not even 20 which is hilarious to me because the source material is obviously japanese) because they both cannot stand her being past her “prime years” of being young fertile and fuckable to much older men as well as thinking a 20 year old is automatically old enough to handle that type of relationship. ive seen a lot of unironic takes that believe it will absolve them of callout posts if they throw around age of consent and “shes 18 now suckers!!!” enough lmfao. absolutely hilarious. aging a minor up without aging the adult down seriously reeks of predatory “cant wait until youre 18″ narratives and thats why i find it similarly disturbing as straight up pedo shipping.

ultimately, sasosaku is and will always be a inherently problematic ship in canon, which is why i think it should always be handled a little more responsibly in fandom spaces, ignoring or outright excusing the main problem factor, which is sasori, isnt going to convince anyone that the dynamic in itself is well written and interesting enough to explore in aus, like giving sasori the redemption most of us wanted him to have by aging him down to a point in time where he was still realistically going to allow being positively influenced, similar to gaara. 

so really, what i think is well handled age gap and how most people handle age gap in the naruto fandom are two different worlds at times lol 

tl;dr

canon shippers have never been anything but gross when i was younger and i didnt wanna be like that, even if youre “smart”enough to differenate, actual creeps dont really care and might use your content to blur the lines, sasori isnt rly redeemable so romantic canonverse realistically wouldnt make much sense and is still iffy, age gaps are fine if they are handled well, but given that the dynamic doesnt really need the age gap to still work im not that invested on making that an essential part of my shipping experience.  

thank you for reading and hope this makes sense!

[izukillme-knbss]

we’ll be okay

pairing: aomomo fandom: kuroko no basuke genre: hurt/comfort. can be read as romantic or platonic--definitely big hints of a future romance but this is mostly just friendship with a sprinkling of ~true love~ setting: coffeeshop au, non-basketball au, childhood friends any tw: slight mentions of drug abuse, sex and alcohol abuse. it’s a line or two, not more than that and no explicit stuff dedication: @xoxomyseriesxoxo​ !!! HAPPY CHRISTMAS ELENAAA!! we don’t really know each other, but i think you’re amazing. i know this gift is suuuper late, i’m so so sorry about that! i really enjoyed writing it though, and i hope you enjoy reading it too. have a blessed holiday season and a wonderful year ahead. you deserve it and more!!

@knbsecretsanta

--

It’s a quiet morning at the cafe, as is usual on a Sunday in December. No students rushing to class, no youngsters on a ‘morning date’ because their days are too crammed to find any other time, and no aged regulars because it’s too cold for that. Daiki’s just leaning against the counter, half-asleep and looking forward to a proper nap instead of the accursed morning shift, when the bell tinkles and the door swings open, bringing a gust of cold air in with it.

Just my luck. He grumbles softly and straightens up, blinking a couple of times. Moving from months of practice, he’s already halfway through reciting the usual, “Welcome to Miracle’s, what can I get you today?” when his eyes finally focus on the vaguely pink blur and bring it into full resolution. 

Daiki’s voice grinds to a halt like a car running out of petrol, and his jaw drops open as he stares at the girl.

Long hair like a shower of cherry blossoms. Magenta eyes that if Daiki had to guess were normally alight with mischief, but now only hold a deep weariness. A full figure (and for the first time in his short twenty-two years of life, Daiki’s eyes don’t linger on it, too mesmerised by everything else about her). A small, distracted smile that seems more forced than anything.

She looks like shit. She’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

And he knows her.

“Close your mouth, Dai-chan, or you’ll catch flies,” is the first thing that Satsuki Momoi says to him, in the most drained voice he’s ever heard, after three years of radio silence.

“I--” It’s all Daiki can do not to fall over unconscious. “Satsuki--what the f--”

“Language, Dai-chan!” Her voice rises a little higher and the dullness of her face goes down a notch, and Daiki thinks he hears an echo of the happy high-school girl she used to be. “I see you haven’t changed one bit.” 

“I see you have,” Daiki says lamely after a pause that’s just a beat too long. There’s silence for a moment before Satsuki shakes her head and smiles, a little more genuine than before.

“Even your insults are as bad as ever.” Her lips are cracked, he notices a little dizzily. She never used to let them crack in high school. Always with the lip balms and care products.

A sharp pain in the back of his left calf, courtesy his coworker Izuki, reminds Daiki of where he is. Right. Coffee shop, barista and customer.

“Um. Anyway.” Daiki clears his throat, shaking his head. “What would you like to have today?”

“Black coffee. Strongest you’ve got.” At this, he can’t help raising an eyebrow. 

“You sure? In high school, you--”

“In high school, I was a kid.” Satsuki’s voice is terse and tight, and her eyes are unreadable, in a way they’ve never been before. A chill unrelated to the icy weather seeps into Daiki’s bones and numbs his tongue. “People change, Dai-chan.”

He has no answer to that, so he just avoids her dead gaze and walks to the back to make her coffee. There’s a sudden bitter taste in his mouth as he moves mechanically, working from muscle memory gained over months of practice. But that’s just the smell of caffeine.

Right?

When he finally looks up, she's wandered off to a table by the window, thumbing lazily through something on her phone. Daiki fights to keep his face polite and neutral, the way the world's taught him to be, as he calls, "Oi, Satsuki?" 

She starts, blinking a few times before getting up and coming over. Daiki holds out the cup to her, and pretends he doesn't notice when her fingers clamp briefly around his as she takes it. 

"That'll be 350 yen, including taxes." It feels like someone else is moving his mouth. For his past, Daiki is still stuck in the moment when she first walked into the shop, the most wonderful and most terrible moment of his life.

Satsuki puts the money on the desk and gives him that empty smile again.

“See you around, Dai-chan,” she says in a voice that makes him think she’s really saying, “Goodbye.” Then she turns to leave.

Daiki doesn’t know what makes him do it. But he does it anyway, like a fool that’s been hurt too many times and still refuses to learn from his mistakes.

“It was nice seeing you again.” He isn’t lying. It was nice, and that has nothing to do with the fact that it was also simultaneously horrible. “Swing by sometime. Not to brag, but I make a good coffee.” The smile she gives him then is real, if barely there, and Daiki thinks it might even be a bit watery.

“The Dai-chan I knew would never pass up an opportunity to brag. Guess you’ve changed, too.”

She’s gone before Daiki can even think, sweeping out in that quick and efficient fashion that is just so Satsuki.

There’s one thing that hasn’t changed at all.

A few moments pass. The gentle puff of chill in the air evaporates, and soon the faint tinkling of the door’s bell is the only sign that she was ever here. 

That tinkling pales before the sound of her laughter.

--

It’s Sunday, again. Daiki is on the morning shift and wiping down the counter, again. There are barely any customers, again. Now all that’s needed is for Satsuki to breeze in. Ha, what are the odds? Last time she spoke to him, she had this air of finality about her--

The bells tinkle, the door opens, and Daiki’s head snaps up pathetically fast, his hand stilling on the counter. It’s not hope that shrivels in his chest when he realises it isn’t her, because hope is for things that might happen and this won’t. It’s… it’s something. It isn’t anything.

He knows, surely, that that last bit is a lie. (That is, if all of it wasn’t.)

The new arrival is a young man with green hair, dressed in an orange shirt and dark jeans. He’s wearing glasses that surprisingly don’t hide the elegant shape of his eyes, fringed with thick dark lashes. A walking carrot if Daiki ever saw one. He’s got a serious face, which would be so pretty if his mouth wasn’t puckered in the unforgiving line that it is. Still, everyone has a type--Daiki himself likes people who smile brightly and laugh loudly and have a sense of humour with a razor edge.

That’s just Satsuki in a nutshell, but.

The man comes up to the counter, pushing up his glasses, and says in a voice as dry as his expression indicates, “I’m Midorima.”

Daiki eyes him doubtfully. It’s somewhat familiar--perhaps he’s one of Satsuki’s friends’ friends, people whose names Daiki half-heard and now wishes he’d taken the care to remember because every word that comes out of her mouth is a diamond and he’d left so many of those diamonds to glitter weakly in the dust.

“Shintarou Midorima,” says Midorima, a glint in his eyes that suggests he thinks this is helpful. It’s not helpful at all--Daiki can’t do much but raise an eyebrow.

“Daiki… Aomine,” he says slowly, because it seems like what he’s supposed to do next by ‘social mores’. Still, he doesn’t think the carrot is a master of those either, because he just nods and shifts awkwardly in position, not meeting Daiki’s eyes.

The break room’s door clicks open, and Daiki hears Takao’s easy steps behind him--ah, so he’s covering Izuki’s shift today. A small burst of relief flowers in Daiki’s chest: despite Takao’s overbearing exuberance and Izuki’s constant puns, both his coworkers are usually very easy to work with. However, taking shifts with Izuki in the mornings… Daiki’s calf still twinges from that unnecessarily harsh kick last week. He wouldn’t believe Izuki worked at a coffee shop, much less liked coffee, if he hadn’t seen the guy murderously chug a gallon of the stuff like water and immediately revert to his normal personality. 

There’s a beat of silence instead of Takao’s usual cheerful voice. Then it rings out, loud and happier than Daiki’s ever heard him.

“Shiiiin-chan!” Takao runs out from behind the counter, jumping straight onto Midorima, who makes a resigned noise and catches him easily. Like he’s used to it. 

“Oh, Aomine, this is my boyfriend,” Takao informs Daiki, who can’t help an amused smile. “Shin-chan.”

“Midorima,” Midorima says a little too quickly, as if afraid Daiki will call him ‘Shin-chan’ too. Daiki nods, lets the briefest of polite smiles brush his lips.

“Don’t worry about us, Aomine! We’ll just be over here!” Takao sings, dragging Midorima off to the bathroom.

“Come back in case there’s a rush,” Daiki drawls half-heartedly, and goes back to polishing the counter. A few minutes pass, maybe more; he’s too busy scrubbing at a particularly stubborn stain to know. Then the bells tinkle, the door whooshes open, and he looks up, ready to welcome the next customer--

“Hi again,” Satsuki says, her cheeks pink from cold. “You were right. You do make a good coffee.”

“...hi,” Daiki stutters, blinking. “Thought you said--”

No. She didn’t say anything, shut up, she’s here and that’s enough.

“Said?” She frowns at him, and Daiki shakes his head.

“No, it’s nothing. Black coffee again?”

“Yes, please. 350 yen?”

“Mmm,” Daiki hums in response as he makes the coffee. Instead of going to a table, though, Satsuki puts her elbows on the counter and watches him. It makes him feel weirdly conscious, but he’s made enough black coffees to do it on autopilot.

“One black coffee for the madam,” he says, a bit of the snark he’d had in high school returning to his tone as he places it in front of her. Satsuki hands him the money, and the spot where their fingers touch burns. 

“Thanks, Dai-chan.” Today, Daiki notices, her smile is a little more real and her voice is a little less tired and her eyes are a touch brighter.

“No problem,” he says quickly. “See you around?”

“Yeah.” Satsuki’s eyes are warm as she looks at him. Then she’s gone, just as much of a whirlwind as the first time. But now, things are a little different.

Now, it isn’t Sayonara, but Ja ne.

--

The third week rolls around, and Daiki actually volunteers for the morning shift in place of Izuki, who gives him a relieved look. Takao just smirks and giggles. When Satsuki comes in at ten past nine, just like she did the last two times, her coffee’s already waiting. 

“Here you go,” Daiki says with a grin. 

“Thanks, Dai-chan!” 

“Also, my shift ends in an hour if you’re free today.” He says it entirely on impulse and regrets it the second it’s out of his mouth. But Satsuki’s eyes just sparkle, and though they’re dimmer than they used to be, Daiki still finds himself enthralled.

“Oh?” Her lips curve up into the ghost of a mischievous smile, and Daiki aches. “Whatever for, Dai-chan?”

“Just…” Daiki’s cheeks grow hot. “I don’t know. It’s been three years. We should talk. I… I missed you.”

A beat of silence. Two. Three. Then Satsuki nods rapidly, her face paling in the way it always does when she’s taken by surprise.

“I…” Her words come out normal, but there’s a hint of strain that Daiki only hears because he’s known her forever. “I have to finish a paper, but there's not too much left. I can stay here and do it.”

“Great.” Daiki’s proud of the fact that his voice doesn’t waver. “If you need extra coffee, let me know. On the house.” Satsuki grins, a shadow of what she used to be. 

“I’ll take you up on that one.”

She turns around, eyes on the table she sat at last time. And as she sweeps off towards it, Daiki swears he heard her whisper, “I missed you too, Dai-chan.”

--

Once they start talking, they don’t stop. There’s so much to catch up on: college (Daiki finished a year ago, Satsuki has a year left), work (Satsuki’s looking at a business degree, while Daiki’s in sports medicine. She’d originally wanted to do law, so that’s surprising), life in general. 

Being with Satsuki is easy. It’s something he doesn’t have to think about. She’s the rush of fresh air that enters your lungs after a hard run, something you didn’t know you needed until you didn’t have it anymore. Daiki falls into a practiced rhythm of banter and laughter with her, in and out, in and out, just like breathing.

She shows up on Monday, and Tuesday, and Wednesday and Thursday too, and Daiki doesn’t know when he starts expecting her to be there by ten past nine, doesn’t know when he starts brewing black coffee and volunteering for morning slots, doesn’t know when he starts waiting for the end of his Sunday shift just to take that one-hour walk with her and chat. Satsuki fills her place in his life as she’s always done, covering the gaping hole she tore in him like she never left.

In some ways, she hasn’t.

Being with Satsuki is easy, but it’s also hard. It’s hard because her eyes are always faraway, her lips are pursed and her brows are drawn with invisible tension. She’s not here even when she is, and it hurts.

Daiki knows it’s stupid to expect her to be the girl she was once. He knows she’s grown up. But growing up shouldn’t come with the amount of pain and… and whatever else it is that she carries on her slender shoulders now. Satsuki was made to live, not just survive. It bothers Daiki more than he’ll ever admit: enough that on one of their Sunday walks, he finally bites the bullet.

“What happened?”

“...happened?” Satsuki tilts her head, adorably confused.

“You…” Daiki flounders for words. “You changed.”

“Dai-chan, I’m not a little girl anymore. You changed too. You’re a lot politer.”

“You’re really gonna make me say it?” Worry takes the place of awkwardness, and Daiki suddenly finds himself… not confident, but ready to confront this. “You know, Satsuki. You’re hurting. What happened to you?”

“Dai-chan…” She sighs, looks away. “Nothing happened. Adults hurt.”

“No, they don’t.” Daiki catches her shoulder and turns her around to face him. “Not… not the way you are. Something happened, didn’t it? Satsuki, please, talk to me.” His voice cracks a little on the last word, but he couldn’t care less about looking bad in front of her. She was around before he ever looked good at all.

“I--” Satsuki’s face crumples, like a chilled tin can that just had hot water poured on it, and there are tiny stars on her eyelashes. “Dai-chan, please, I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“No, Satsuki, please. Whoever did this to you, I won’t try to commit homicide,” Daiki says, half a joke in his voice. “Can’t promise I won’t think about it, though.”

“So…” She sounds ragged and hollow. “So you’re going to think about killing me, then. Might as well do it. It’s as much as I deserve.” Daiki’s world slows and stops.

What?

He says as much, spluttering, “Satsuki--wh--”

“That’s why I lost contact,” she says, her wet eyes gazing at something he can’t see. “I… I did stuff in my early years of college that I’m not proud of, Dai-chan. I fucked up so bad… I didn’t switch courses because I wanted to. I flunked out of law and--”

The tears, gathered like diamonds in her eyes, start to fall. Daiki cups her face in his hands and wipes them away with his thumbs as best he can. Satsuki looks up at him, a mess of pain and guilt and anger, and Daiki keeps his expression as open as he can. It’s what she needs right now.

“Go on.” Even he’s surprised at how tender he sounds. “I’m here for you.” Satsuki pulls his hands away from her cheeks and sniffles.

“All of those ‘college vices’, all at once. It’s okay in moderation--you’ve done your fair share of those things, I’m sure,”--and she’s right--“but Dai-chan, I overdid it. A party every night, a new someone in my bed when I woke up each morning. I even ended up with an addiction.” More tears, which she wipes at in futility. “I missed you and home and everyone. But I didn’t dare tell you because I was so scared, Dai-chan. I didn’t want you to hate me. When Mom and Dad found out, they cut me off. And I can’t even blame them or anyone else, because--look at me! I barely sleep, I eat too much, I have nightmares every day and I’m doing something I hate more than anything.”

Daiki doesn’t think words will work here, so he just pulls her in, close to his chest. Satsuki sobs and shakes in his embrace, her head against his sternum, crying her heart out.

“Are you disappointed in me, Dai-chan?” Her voice is small, and it comes out broken between sobs. Daiki pauses for a second before shaking his head.

“No. We fuck up sometimes. It’s okay.”

He doesn’t know if it’s the right thing to say, but Satsuki’s arms tighten around him and she stops shaking, so he thinks it just might be.

“It’s okay,” he repeats, stroking her hair. “You’re okay.”

“I’ll be okay?” Satsuki whispers.

“Yeah,” Daiki says, and means it. He doesn’t know where he’ll start with helping her, how things will go, but… “As long as we’re together. Just… stay.”

“I’ll stay.” Satsuki exhales into his shoulder. “I’ll stay, Dai-chan.”

“Then we’ll be okay.”

“We?” The confusion in her tone is palpable, but there’s also a tinge of hope at the very end. Daiki doesn’t say anything, just holds her closer and affirms that hope. 

It could be a long road, but that road isn’t too long for them to travel together. Nothing is too much for Daiki and Satsuki, not when they’re together, because they’re Daiki-and-Satsuki again.

And that’s why they’ll be okay. 

[after-nine-at-the-oasis]

Never Close Enough to See

@sanderssidesgiftxchange 

Hello, and happy holidays! This is my gift for @peppermintsticks ! I loved writing this for you, it was a lot of fun. I hope you enjoy it, Peppermint!

Pairings: Romantic Logince, background romantic Moxiety, eventual/pre LAMP

Word count: 2831

Warnings: None, actually

and credit to @thetomorrowshow , who is amazing and beta read this :)

-

Roman didn't like mirrors. Everyone knew that your reflection was what your soulmate looked like, but he simply refused to look into them. The last time he had seen his soulmate was when he was four years old. And whoever it was, he hated them.

All his life he'd been constantly compared to other people, as if he were a failing reflection. Roman looked, and all he saw was everything he wasn't. So he never looked into mirrors. He avoided going outside after it had rained, though in puddles images were less clear. He  even stopped short of completely cleaning anything metal so it wouldn't reflect.

But he could always be at ease around Logan. Logan was his best friend, and he always kept mirrors away from Roman. Helped him spot anything that might show a reflection, especially after a mere glance at a window showed a distorted face that wasn't Roman's own triggered a downward spiral. He was Roman's only friend (other than his casual friend Janus, but they were in different grades, so never saw much of each other) – everyone else thought he was too much maintenance.

So one day, when the two 16-year-olds were doing homework, Roman was casually complaining about mirrors. As you do. Logan usually just hummed in response to what he said, or offered comfort.

“They expect me to care about finding my soulmate so much, and I just. . . don't,” Roman was saying. “I'm so sick of it. I hate my soulmate! And they don't understand that,” he finished bitterly. Logan had paused in his biology work, staring at the pencil in his hand. Roman hesitated.

“Logan?” he asked. The other boy jerked his head up to look at him, and nodded slightly.

“It does seem bothersome,” said his friend. Roman quirked an eyebrow and smiled.

“I was asking if you were good,” Roman clarified. “You were staring off into space for a minute there, Specs.” Logan stared at him for a moment, then responded only with a neutral “Oh” and turned back to his biology work. Slightly uncomfortable now, Roman looked down at his math assignment. He sighed quietly, then tried to put his friend's odd behavior out of his mind so he could focus on the equations. But no matter how hard he tried, he was still unsettled when Logan announced that he needed to get home, quickly packed up, and left.

–

Logan stared silently into the mirror. For once, the soulmate looking back at him was not Roman. It was rare that he would see one of the other faces, but whenever he did he almost never left. He needed to know who they were, but he had never once seen either of them in real life. Roman's was the only face that he ever recognized. The person he saw now was pale, with dark hair that was most likely black. He'd only seen them three times before – usually it was the kind-eyed blonde.

He shifted his weight, trying to relieve some of the pressure of 20 minutes hunched over the bathroom sink, staring at a boy who definitely wasn't Logan himself. Apparently, once all matching soulmates were aware they were soulmates and reciprocated the feelings (romantic or platonic) it was optional to see another face in any undisturbed reflective surface. But most people had sketches done each year, so they had an idea of what they looked like before meeting their soulmate.

The rest had taken Logan quite a bit of research. Why was he seeing multiple faces? Well, after hours of digging, he finally found his answer: polyamory. Whenever there were multiple partners in a soulmate relationship, platonic or romantic, each person was shown the soulmate physically closest to them.

Which meant that for some reason, very occasionally, one of Logan's other two soulmates was closer to him than Roman. Which was odd, since Roman only lived three streets away. Ever since they first started appearing, he had been contemplating what might cause this. Perhaps they rarely took walks in this direction? Or maybe it was a commute to a job or school. But that didn't explain the fact that Logan had been standing here, staring at the mirror, for nearly half an hour now.

Logan was startled out of his thoughts by movement. Or, what appeared to be movement. The face was morphing and blurring. His arms dropped from the sink, but he was transfixed by the sight. Then, suddenly, it was over, and Roman's face was staring back at him. Logan gaped at it. That was the first time he'd ever been looking when it changed back to familiar, auburn-haired Roman.

Logan had to tell him.

–

“Specs? Are you nervous about something?”

Logan answered immediately, which was strange for him – usually he took time to think through what he was going to say.

“Roman, I have something to tell you.” He took a deep breath, and Roman just watched him, curious. Then the wind was knocked out of his chest by Logan's next words.

“We're soulmates.”

Roman watched as Logan slowly shrunk more and more in his seat, but he couldn't respond. He couldn't think. How was he supposed to address this? For so long, he had– I said I hated my soulmate, thought Roman hysterically. Finally, he found his voice.

“How could you tell me?” he whispered. Logan looked away. “I-I said I hated you.”

“You said you hate your soulmate. You didn't know,” Logan answered evenly. Immediately, Roman shook his head.

“I hated the concept, Logan,” he said earnestly. “That's all, I promise.” I could never hate you.

Logan glanced at him, but he looked back to his homework, clearly staring right through it as he pretended to write something down. After a few moments, he sighed and set his pencil down. Without looking at Roman, he asked, “So what happens now?”

Roman hesitated. To be perfectly honest, he wasn't sure. But he had an idea.

“Want to go out with me?”

–

“Well, this should work,” Roman said nervously. Logan looked at him. His best friend- soulmate? His soulmate's eyes were flicking back and forth around the cozy cafe they had chosen on a whim for their date. It was called [pun name here], and it looked fairly nice. Nonetheless, this was still the most stressful situation Logan had ever been in.

“So,” Roman continued as they weaved around a few tables. “What do you want?” Logan started.

“I can order my own coffee, Roman, it's fine,” he answered. Roman immediately looked away.

“Yeah, I know that. I just thought it was a thing people do. On dates,” Roman added.

“Oh.”

Roman hurriedly filled the silence Logan's short answer had left, waving his hands slightly.

“No, no, you can order for yourself if you wish,” he said. Logan could feel a smile twitching at his lips at Roman's response.

“I will have anything that is iced with almond milk, and a blueberry scone. Thank you, Roman.”

Roman nodded awkwardly and began to back away from Logan slightly, towards the counter.

“I–” Roman bumped into a table, glanced behind him, and quickly side stepped. “I will go get that then. Find us a table, Specs?”

It almost seemed like reflex when Roman's most common nickname for Logan came back. Again, Logan found himself starting to smile. Roman must have been relaxing – Logan was still taut as a bowstring.

Nodding, Logan went to do as he was asked, lost in thought, and with a slight blush tinting his cheeks. But no one in this little cafe, on a cold, rainy day, was going to point it out.

–

It took a few minutes, but they were talking now. Once they relaxed more, it was easy to slip back into the effortless conversation that was a staple of their friendship. And now, perhaps, romance. They were debating plays and drinking coffee (Logan hadn't touched his scone, but it was half gone, and he was convinced Roman was picking off of it whenever Logan wasn't looking), and if anything, it felt like their personalities slotted together even better than before.

“But Les Mis has a compelling, tragic story line!” Logan exclaimed. Roman scoffed and took a sip of his coffee before responding.

“It gets boring, Logan,” he said. “I don't watch musicals to sit through a, albeit well sung, three hour show that feels like four! I have things to do.”

Now it was Logan's turn to scoff.

“You don't have anything to do, I'm your only friend.”

As soon as it was out of his mouth, Logan was immediately uncomfortable. And from the way Roman choked on the bite of Logan's scone he was stealing – he knew it! –, so was he. They'd joked about Roman's lack of friends before, but that was before Roman was aware they were soulmates. Now, it only serves to remind us of Roman's previous hatred of his soulmate, Logan's brain put in helpfully.

“Keyword previous, Specs,” said Roman quietly. Logan stared at him for a moment, then with the feeling of embarrassment creeping up his face, realized he had stated the thought out loud. He cleared his throat.

“Of course, Roman. I am aware.”

Silently, Roman reached across the table to squeeze Logan's hand. Before he could pull away, Logan took a deep breath and squeezed back. And when when Roman smiled at him, he couldn't help but smile as well.

–

Logan sighed, clearly frustrated, but there was a note of fondness in his voice when he spoke.

“Please, Roman, is going back to the cafe we went on our first date at really necessary?” Roman turned to his boyfriend, and placed a hand on his chest in mock offense.

“For our six month anniversary? Of course!” he answered. Logan shot him a flat look, which was impressive, seeing as Roman as currently dragging him down the sidewalk towards the aforementioned cafe. Roman returned the look with a bright smile, and he could see Logan tensing to stop his mouth from mirroring it.

“Six month anniversary, Specs,” Roman repeated. “Surely you can deal with a shady cafe for a little while?”

“Well, I don't particularly like to reside anywhere 'shady', as you put it,” replied his boyfriend. Logan had extracted himself from Roman's grip to make air quotations around the word 'shady', but he held out his arm again, allowing Roman to drag him along.

“Nonetheless!” Roman declared. “That is where we're headed – besides, we've only been three times, and every time it was raining. I think we deserve to see how it holds up in the sunlight, don't you?” Logan sighed, this time sounding defeated, and let go of any resistance he was still holding Grinning, Roman continued to pull his arm in full force.

“Roman, dear,” Logan said conversationally as they walked. Roman hummed so Logan would know he was listening. “Do you remember that couple that everyone always complained about?”

Roman frowned thoughtfully.

“The ones in the grade above us?” He clarified, glancing at Logan. His boyfriend nodded, and Roman mirrored the action.

“Well,” Logan continued. “I get the impression that if we were more public about our relationship, we would be that couple.”

Roman laughed and turned to look at Logan, walking almost completely backwards. Logan was smiling, obviously trying (and failing) to keep a straight face. Logan cocked an eyebrow, seemingly asking Roman to challenge his assumption, but Roman just shook his head, still laughing.

“No, Specs, I don't believe you're wrong about that,” he responded. He turned back around before he ran into someone or tripped over the curb, letting go of Logan's arm as he did so, and they continued walking in silence for a few moments.

“I wonder what their names were,” Roman mused. Logan was next to him now, instead of behind him, and shot him a questioning look. Roman hurried to explain.

“That couple, I mean. The one everyone always complained about for being so sappy and in love and all that jazz.”

Understanding swept over Logan's face, before clearing into a frown of concentration. “Virgil and Patton, if I remember correctly,” he said after a few seconds. Roman nodded, recognizing the names a little. He was sure he'd heard them at some point, but he would probably forget in another few days anyways.

“That sounds about right. What do you suppose they're doing now?” he added. Logan shrugged, and Roman only pondered it for several seconds. By then, they had come to the cafe door, and all thoughts that didn't concern Logan or the meal cheerfully vanished from his mind.

–

Logan carefully arranged their order on the table. One blueberry scone, which he wouldn't end up eating more than half of if Roman's stealing habits hadn't changed in the last five minutes, and two coffees. It wasn't much – they always ordered the same thing when they got coffee –, and after just a few seconds finished. He glanced up, looking for Roman, who was grabbing napkins, as he hadn't managed to drink coffee once without spilling it. Instead, his eyes met with one of two teens, probably slightly older than himself.

The one who's gaze he caught was blonde haired, with kind eyes and a soft smile on his face. He gave Logan a little wave, then turned to his companion and started talking. But Logan was still staring. Suddenly, it seemed, Roman was walking up, napkins in hand, and giving Logan a bemused look.

“Seen a ghost?” his boyfriend asked. Logan barely registered what he said, just tugged on his sleeve till he started looking where Logan was. Finally, he managed to speak.

“It's them, Roman,” Logan said breathlessly. “Our. . . other two soulmates.”

Immediately Roman was walking over to them. He had only seen one of them, the dark haired one, in the short time that he had been looking in mirrors, but if anything he wanted to know their identities even more than Logan.

Roman was offering a handshake to the two boys, and Logan belatedly followed him, offering his own hand once he came to them. Roman had been in the middle of introducing Logan as he arrived, so Logan saw no need to say anything yet.

“Well, my name is Patton, and this is Virgil!” the boy – Patton – chirped cheerfully. Virgil, as he was now designated, gave an awkward pair of finger guns (though one was slightly less precise, seeing as that arm was currently linked with Patton's).

“A pleasure to meet you,” Logan managed to say, trying not to sound as if he were choking (they were that couple as well?!). Patton gave him an only slightly confused smile, so Logan assumed he did rather well.

There was silence for a moment, and the couples glanced at each other. Then, they all spoke at once.

“We think you two are our soulmates.”

All four of them stared at each other for a few seconds, then Virgil burst out laughing. Logan, Roman, and Patton joined him after a moment, which hopefully lowered his obvious mortification at having lost it laughing in a public setting.

When they had all calmed themselves, Logan looked at Patton and Virgil, then at his and Roman's table. Barely stopping to consider as an idea popped into his mind, he spoke.

“Would you like to have coffee with us?”

Immediately, he regretted speaking, but Patton brightened even further, if that were possible, and Virgil smiled.

“We'd actually love that,” said Virgil.

Roman stepped aside, gesturing to their table, and the other three gladly followed him.

–

They ended up staying for hours, (Logan wasn't sure how long, but certainly long enough that he was convinced the employees nearly asked them to leave, but in Roman's words, “Couldn't bear to break up such obvious love”) and before the pairs went their separate ways, exchanged phone numbers.

Logan hadn't even realized how much he had been missing. When he mentioned it to Roman, his boyfriend instantly agreed. They had felt whole by themselves, somehow even more whole as friends, and nearly perfect as partners. But now that they had met Patton and Virgil, they were complete. It felt more final this time, so hopefully they wouldn't discover a fifth soulmate in Spain or Russia or some where ridiculously far away. Logan didn't think they would, though. It felt perfect now, completely and utterly whole. They had never been close enough to see each other for who they truly were before, but now they could. And it felt like the sun coming out from behind a cloud.

Logan and Roman had their first date on a rainy day, at 5:13 in the evening, at a shady cafe. Logan, Roman, Virgil, and Patton had their first date on a sunshine-filled day, at 1:37 in the afternoon, at a shady cafe.

There was really nothing to complain about.

Both were perfect.

[aspecpplarebeautiful]

(tw mentions of trauma, no details of it)hi i need help i think or at least info dump if u dont mind :(

currently i identify as pan/biromantic because i love everybody (leaving sexuality out for now bc i think thats a bit more complicated) but recently i started doubting. i dont know if its bc im traumatized and i just have a hard time getting close to people enough to feel love or if i just dont do it at all? recently some1 im in a qpr has confessed their (romantic?) love for me and i loved them the best i could but i dont think it was enough. idk if it was a love language thing or if im not capable of showing the love they were talking about. i dont think i romantically like them (thats a whole other issue) but like what if i dont actually feel romantic love at all? i love my friends and i believe in platonic love and sometimes the line is blurred (like qprs). for example i have one friend who i really like (platonic?) and for me it is sometimes blurred but idk if its just a deep platonic relationship (qpr???) or if its a romantic type but i am just too scared to think that im romantic to him bc hes my friend and i dont want to ruin what we have. bc dont friends still hold hands and stuff :( i think abt stuff like kissing but im also scared of intimacy (trauma tingz) or maybe thats an aro thing??

i want to love romantically i think but like what if it isnt what i think it is? i realized im not sure what that feels or looks like anymore all i know is what ive seen in the movies--aromantic people are not broken!!!!! i truly believe that :) - but i feel broken?? like theres something wrong with me and i cant feel the same love like others. i dont understand whats happening or why im feeling this is :( maybe im on the aro spectrum? or maybe this is something to work out w a professional? im just so confused

any help or thoughts is greatly appreciated 🥺🥺

please take ur time w this ask!! i know its kind of,, a lot i kinda info dumped on u :( im so confused about myself

So let’s break this apart a bit.

First of all a lot of people have trouble distinguishing what is romance or not, or romantic attraction or not. And it’s really hard to define and explain, even by people who know they’re experiencing it. And for some people the lines are blurred or they genuinely can’t tell at all. So it’s hard in general, even without trauma making it difficult. 

If you’re interested, the faq for this blog goes into some detail about distinguishing romantic/platonic/alterous attraction. So that may be helpful for you. But honestly my biggest advice is to just check out aro forums/blogs/media etc and seeing if it’s relatable and taking your time, sometimes it needs to time to marinate before you can really tell you’re not experiencing an attraction, and don’t put too much pressure on yourself.

For the trauma, it can be really hard to separate out what’s trauma and what’s just how you’d have been anyways. And honestly, you don’t actually have to and that may be helpful. One way I like to look at it is if you match an experience or find a label useful, does it matter if there’s a cause? Also there’s always a cause, just is it the trauma specifically or some unique interaction of genes and other experiences that lead you to be this way? And the other thing if trauma is a factor could things change down the road? And the answer is maybe. But maybe someone else has a fluid orientation and it changes for them later too, it doesn’t make it less valid in the moment. 

So yeah maybe the reason you think you could be aro and you’re having trouble connecting to romantic feelings/attraction is trauma. But it doesn’t mean if you think aro woud be a useful label for you that you can’t use it. And it doesn’t mean you can’t keep healing and exploring either, but it’s up to you to decide what feels right. 

Remember that there is a different between feeling broken and being broken. And a lot of people when they’re first realising they could be aro feel broken, and it’s something a lot of people go through. It’s OK to have those feelings early on, but try and remember they’re feelings, and that doesn’t make them fact. Also one thing a lot of people have found have helped with those feelings is connecting to other aros and the aro community, and seeing aros who are cool people or happy or good with their identity can help a lot to feel less broken, and even if you decide you’re not aro in the end this can still be helpful and help take the pressure off when figuring out your label. That you can find happiness either way.

I can’t tell you how you should handle the situation with your qpp, except to say don’t be afraid to take the path that feels right for you. We live in a culture that really teaches a one way to happiness and to dealing with these situations, but there isn’t actually a wrong choice here, if you should try a romantic relationship or not. And honestly there’s risks either way, so it’s best to let your own feelings guide you. Sometimes we may make the wrong choice out of fear as well (and either choice could be that), but if that happens the important thing is you learn and you’re more ready next time a similar situation comes up. 

Should you get help from a professional? You absolutely can, and some people do find that helpful. Make sure you find a therapist who is open minded about aromanticism and aro identities and won’t push you towards allonormativity. And remember you can switch therapists or fire a therapist at any time if they’re doing that. Identity is really complicated and personal too though, so I wouldn’t say it’s necessary, but they may be able to help you navigate the trauma side of it better. But it’s up to you what path you think is best for you.

This is a lot of text, but to sum up, take your time and explore, and slowly things should start to make more sense, but don’t rush it. And try not to panic or be afraid of whatever identity ends up feeling right for you in the end. 

All the best and good luck!

[mellometal]

Hey, everyone.

If you saw the post from earlier, I had to delete it. There were things I forgot to discuss and things that didn't get saved into my drafts. Sorry if you have to see this again.

I've been WAITING to talk about Glee. Not in the good way either. There's so much wrong with the show, and it's sickening. Yes, I've watched the show last year. Against my will, but that's because of other people refusing to put on anything else besides Glee. I can say that I hate Glee with my entire being. (My initial reason for hating it was because they covered "SING" by My Chemical Romance and turned it into a slow, patriotic song when it's a song about rebellion. NOTHING about "SING" is patriotic. I hated the show since I first heard about it...for that very reason. I was like thirteen or so at the time when I first heard about Glee? Despite it being out since 2009.

Though it's been over for several years now, it's a show that many people have mixed feelings about. From what I've seen, you either love Glee or you absolutely hate it. There's no in-between that I've seen. (If you can't already tell, I hate the show.)

The show is a literal dumpster fire, the characters are all fucking awful people and all of them are poorly written, the script pisses me off, it literally makes me feel disgusting, and don't even get me started on the covers. Most of the covers aren't that good. A lot of them sound like nails on a chalkboard to me. The pacing of the show makes NO sense in certain areas (like when Blaine was initially made to be a grade above Kurt, but was then changed to be like the same grade as him so he'd stay). It just feels like everyone in the show is either a Mary Sue, a Gary Stu, their whole personality is just that they're from a minority group or they're EDGY AND HARDCORE DELINQUENTS BLEEEEHHHHH, creepy as fuck, bigoted as all hell, or they're just background characters who occasionally have the spotlight.

TW: The following post and any other posts that I'll make about this show contains subject matter that may be triggering for some audiences. It will go into subjects like racism, homophobia, ableism, outing of a person in the LGBT community, bigotry in general, statutory r@pe (between teachers and students), teachers being creepy towards students, mentioned past child m0l3stati0n and invalidation of the victim's trauma, making fun of su1c1d3, making fun of overdose, making fun of drug addiction....a lot of fucked up things.

If anything mentioned above is triggering for you, please feel free to scroll and consume safe media instead. I'd rather have you be safe than to be triggered by anything I'm gonna talk about.

Let's start off easy. The characters. It's easy to tear them apart. At least the most problematic ones.

Rachel, the Main Character™️, is textbook definition of a Mary Sue. Instead of calling her Rachel, I'm gonna call her Mary Sue for the whole post. She's almost completely perfect (like too perfect), her flaws are minor if anything, she gets all the special treatment....you get the picture. When Mary Sue does anything fucked up or she says anything fucked up, it either goes unnoticed, people make up excuses for her being a shitty person, or it gets twisted so it looks like Mary Sue is the hero! (I hate her. So much. I cannot stand her.)

Aaawwww, Mary Sue didn't want some OTHER GIRL (Sunshine) to steal HER spotlight, so she SENT THIS GIRL TO A CRACK HOUSE. A FUCKING CRACK HOUSE, OF ALL PLACES. A PLACE WHERE THIS GIRL COULD HAVE BEEN PUT IN SERIOUS DANGER. THIS GIRL COULD HAVE BEEN SERIOUSLY INJURED AT BEST AND KILLED AT WORST. Yes, I'm aware not all drug houses are the same, but still. It doesn't matter what this girl did. What Sunshine did is irrelevant. It's not okay to send people to strange places where they don't know anyone, and are put in danger, even to the point of either getting injured or killed. But it's okay, because at least it's not an "active" crack house you sent Sunshine to, RIGHT, Mary Sue? You still sent some poor girl to a place where she could have been put in serious danger, even to possibly get injured or killed, all because you didn't want her to steal YOUR spotlight. You fucking disgusting, entitled, bratty cunt. You don't need the spotlight all the time anyway. THAT'S HOW THEATRE WORKS. YOU DON'T ALWAYS GET THE LEAD ROLE. YOU DON'T ALWAYS GET THE ROLE YOU WANT. AND THAT'S OKAY. YOU WORK WITH WHAT YOU GOT. Sincerely, a theatre kid.

There are other fucked up things Mary Sue has done, but this is the one thing I could find anyone talking about. If I remember correctly, she hurt her Gay Best Friend™️ Kurt in some way. All I remember is that Kurt was mad at Mary Sue about something. Mary Sue is annoying as fuck. What else can I say about her?

Next, we have Finn, who's textbook definition of a Gary Stu. I'll call him Gary Stu throughout this post. I hate this fucker too. He's the Main Character's Boyfriend™️, the Hot Quarterback™️, and The Good Guy™️. Yet....he's not a good person. He's treated like he's a good person, but he's really not. His flaws are fairly minor and excused (and any major flaws aren't even talked about much), he's almost completely perfect, and every fucked up thing he does is ignored or is justified in some way. Like how he outed Santana as lesbian in the hallway WITHIN EARSHOT OF EVERYONE. HE DIDN'T EVEN APOLOGIZE FOR THIS.

As a woman who has struggled with her sexuality growing up, this really brought back shit I went through. I "dated" boys when I was younger to cover up the fact that I'm only attracted to other women. I wasn't happy with these guys at all. I acted like I did so nobody would suspect anything. I felt nothing for them, except for in a platonic way. I've been outed twice. Once when I thought I was bisexual with a strong preference for other women (by my dad's girlfriend at the time), and when I came out as lesbian (by my brother). It sucks to be outed. The people who outed me in real life could have put me in danger. They could have made it so I had no place to go back to. They could have had me get hurt. It's a scary feeling. Like, it doesn't matter if you're supportive or if you're in the LGBT community. You don't fucking out people without their explicit permission. You especially don't out people to their abusers or to people they don't trust, let alone out them publicly. That's what happened to me. I don't wish this on anyone.

***By the way, for anyone who's closeted, you're valid, I love you, and I know how it feels to be stuck in the closet. You don't have to come out right now. Come out whenever you're ready to. Whenever it's safe for you to do so.***

Or how about the fact that Gary Stu made fun of Kurt's voice because he's gay? Gary Stu apparently has ✨anger issues✨ and that's pretty much the excuse they use to justify him doing fucked up shit to people.

They treat the characters who are from minority groups (i.e., BIPOC, AAPI, LGBT community, disabled people) like absolute garbage, put them through all this horrific shit, or they put them on a pedestal simply for being in a minority group. The teachers and other school staff are either written to be total bigots (Sue), or they're total pr3dators (Mr. Schue, the school nurse, and another teacher who I can't remember her name off the top of my head).

Sue pretty much only exists to be a poorly written villain who's a bigoted bitch just to be a bigoted bitch. Yes, there were some things she WAS right about (like how "Blurred Lines" wasn't an appropriate song choice for the Glee Club™️, but Mr. Schue The Pr3dator™️ downplayed it). Other than that...that's all I can think of. Because everything else that came out of her mouth was bigoted bullshit. Like these right here, for example:

Or how she drugged the principal, date r@ped him, and blackmailed him?

How about them making a tasteless joke about Sue committing su1c1d3 and having her "overdose" on multivitamin gummies?

DO I NEED TO EXPLAIN HOW FUCKED UP ALL OF THIS IS? I do? Well, first of all, she called people racist, homophobic, ableist, and otherwise disgusting names. She boiled them down to their race, sexual orientation, their disability, and their appearance in general. Second, SHE DRUGGED, BLACKMAILED, AND DATE R@PED SOMEBODY. I don't think I need to explain how that's bad. The evidence is right there. Third, she said she was committing "sue-icide" by overdosing on multivitamin gummies. (Yes, you actually can OD on vitamins in supplement form, and it can cause serious symptoms and even death. Specifically with vitamins A, D, E, and K, and Iron. Vitamins A, D, E, and K are fat-soluble. They're a lot harder to remove from the body. The B vitamins and vitamin C aren't as severe if you do OD on them because they're water-soluble, but still be careful. You can't OD on vitamins and minerals you find in food. If you take supplements, vitamins, etc., only take what's on the bottle.) As someone who has su1c1d@l thoughts on and off, this is extremely insulting. Yes, I do use humor and I joke about my own experiences to cope, but this? Nah. Nothing about this is funny or cute in the slightest. Enough said.

Do I need to explain how fucking terrible it is to make light of a serious topic like this? It was never funny to see Britney Spears' mental health be at that low of a point in 2007. It was never funny to see the abuse the paparazzi inflicted on her. How the fuck was this ever okay? You can dislike Britney Spears all you want, but this was never it.

This is all I have for now. I'll probably make a part two because there are way too many things to talk about.

[amintyworld]

Past - Avian Fantasy AU- Sanders Sides

Summary: The sides learn Virgil's true identity.

A/N: Hey guys! Minty here! This AU was made by the amazing @zhe-lazy-fox! Please go give them some love for making this AU and letting me use it! If you need a explanation of the AU's plot, it's on their blog. Hope you enjoy! If you like it, let me know and I'll make a part 2!

TW: Unsympathetic Patton, slight injuries, emotionally distraught character, threat of death, character near death, character sick

Ships: Platonic LAMP, Prinxiety

"At ease." Virgil finally said, looking down at his once combat companion. He looked feverish, but Virgil still wasn't sure if this was a facade. Was he pretending, only to sneak behind enemy lines? Did the Dragon Witch herself send him, to kill him for not returning? Virgil's worried mind couldn't stop spinning.

Not until Logan pushed past to drag Delta back to bed. Then, Logan turned to face him. "Alpha, Virgil?!" Patton said. "When exactly were you going to tell us all this?!"

Virgil's heart sank as he realized what was just revealed. "Um...I-"

"You...you KILLED hundreds of people. You took almost everything from us…" Patton said, anger building in his voice, marching up to Virgil, pointing his finger on his chest, his light blue wings slightly raised.

"Patton, I-" Virgil said. Roman grabbed Patton's other arm, slightly pulling it. 

"Pat, please, there has to be a reason-" Roman said, but was ignored by a fuming Patton.

"YOU'RE the reason we were almost gone…" Patton almost spat at Virgil, hovering a few feet above the ground, his pointed finger nearly digging into Virgil's chest.

With those words, Virgil was stunned silent. He couldn't control himself as he started to tremble. "I'm...sorry-" Patton, in a rush of wind, turned his back to Virgil, angry and upset. Virgil reached out his arms for Patton. "Patton, look, I-"

Patton looked to Virgil with crossed arms. Where once a happy and concerned person was, disgusted and hurt person remained. "I think YOU'VE done enough damage."

Tears began to fall before Virgil could stop them. He ran out of the cabin as he flew quickly into the air, wind rushing through his hair. He flew high above the clouds, his tears blurring his vision. Why did he think he could change? 

He never could. He never will. 

He'll always be Alpha, son of the Dragon Witch. No matter how hard be tried, that's all he'll ever be.

Virgil didn't know where he was going, but soon his feet met solid ground. He wiped his eyes as he looked around, trying to figure out where he was. A huge rock has stuck out of the ground like a ledge, and it looked out toward the dark, thick, forest he used to call his home. He sat on the top of the rock, closing his eyes as if to close off the memories. The wind picked up, sending his hair in all directions. He breathed deeply, desperately trying to find some sort of peace for his mind.

The wave of wings interrupted the silence. He opened his eyes. "What are you doing here, Roman?"

He heard the halt of footsteps. "How did you know it was me?"

Virgil paused for a moment. "I heard you land, your steps, that obnoxious perfume of roses you insist on using…"

"I get it." Roman said, a small giggle escaping his lips. He walked up, sitting next to Virgil. "Are you...okay?"

"Just leave, Roman. Please. You...you heard what Patton said." Virgil said, almost pleading. A heavy silence sat between the two. "You know what I am."

"I'm not leaving, Virgil." Roman finally said, breaking the silence. Roman turned toward Virgil, who just stared into the forest's darkness.

"Why…?" Virgil said softly.

"Why?!" Virgil said, getting his voice raising. "I'm Alpha, leader and son of the Dragon Witch. I killed millions without a second thought, stole what I wanted, when I wanted." Virgil's anger grew as he grabbed Roman's arm and gripped it tight. He faced Roman. "I could kill you right now. It could be SO easy." He said. "Flip you over, falling down from here until you splat on the grass." He growled.

Roman, somehow, stayed completely calm. "Why aren't you then?!" He yelled. "If it was that easy for you."

Virgil's grip started to shake as Roman looked him straight in the eye. "Why not kill me? Just get it over with, already!" Roman yelled.

Virgil dropped his grip quickly as he looked away. "I can't kill you. I just...look into your eyes, and I just-" He looked toward the ground. "I'm not a good leader, I'm not a good friend…"

"You are." Roman said. "You're trying to fix your mistakes. You're trying to be a good person."

"Am I...a good person?" Virgil said softly.

"Of course you are."

"How do you know that?!" Virgil yelled. "I could snap, and then I could end up killing all of you, and-" Virgil didn't even realize he was crying.

"That's not going to happen. I won't let it, and I know you won't either. You care about all of us, and you've always been there to protect and help us. You…" Roman started to blush. "That's...that's why I love you."

"W-what…?" Virgil said. "You can't...you...I'm Alpha…"

"I don't care." Roman said. 

"Can you love a monster? Can you love someone like... Alpha?" Virgil asked.

Roman held Virgil's hand as they both stared out into the forest and the sun sank behind the trees. "I love you, Virgil - the good and the bad. Nothing would ever change that."

After a few blissful moments, Virgil sighed. He gave a small smile. Somehow, even after everything, Roman always saw the best in him. It was almost calming when Roman pulled his wing around him, pulling him into an embrace. "You always were a romantic, Princey."

Virgil looked up to Roman, his smile quickly disappearing as he thought of the others. "I don't think I can go back. Patton and Logan...they just...they have their… opinions, a-and with Delta there...I-"

Roman smiled reassuringly. "Virgil, Patton and Logan don't care about the past. Patton's just...protective. He's lost a lot, more than anyone else I know during the Alpha raids."

"O-oh…" Virgil looked down. Guilt pricked at the edges of his stomach.

"But I know Patton and Logan love you for who you are, not who you were." He stood up and held out his hand. "Come on, let's go talk to them." Virgil returned Roman's smile as he grabbed Roman's hand and found himself in his arms, bridal style.

"Uh, Princey, I can fly too, you know." Virgil huffed, rolling his eyes.

"Virgil you flew through countless bushes in your panic. Plus, you're too tired to fly. Don't worry, My Chemically Imbalanced Romance, I got this." Roman said. Virgil settled into Roman's arms as they soared above the clouds, listening to his heartbeat as they flew home.

Patton was pacing back and forth outside when they arrived, telling them how nervous and worried he was after Virgil left. He pulled Virgil into a hug, tears falling down his face, saying how sorry he was over and over.

Patton's hug was warm, and Virgil smiled. "It's okay, Patton, it's okay. I'm sorry too. I...should've told you guys sooner but...I was just scared."

Logan stood as they entered the cabin. "He's fine now. Within a few days, he'll be back to full health." He turned to Virgil. "Nice to see you didn't leave us, Virgil. It wouldn't be the same without you here."

"What can I say, Teach?" Virgil smiled. "I couldn't stay away."