#sorry but this announcement fr ruined my day

[spideystevie]

glen powell in a romcom with sydney sweeney ….. i win but i lose like who’s idea was it to cast him with someone other than zoey deutch im soooo

[ryuichirou]

Replies

But also some news!

First of all, I wanted to remind you that my pricelist will be updated by the end of the week, so please feel free to message me if you want to take a slot to commission me with my current prices!

Second of all, we got our twitter account back! We ended up deleting that one post that twitter didn’t like (yes, the one that doesn’t have anything explicit or any nudity on it), which obviously sucks, but at least now we can jump back to posting more or less regularly.

And now that this situation is over, I can say about the thing that honestly tickled me: the last person who wrote a callout post on me right before our acc got locked (=the person who very likely caused the massreporting in the first place) got accused of grooming a 13 y.o. and had their account terminated the very next day. What a great illustration of how the fandom climate works, right? Hilarious.

Alright, replies replies. Some about Fellow and Gidel, some about Rook, Idia, a little bit of Lilia and some miscellaneous asks.

Anonymous asked:

wait, Fellow is it a good idea for Gidel to write?? Isn't he illiterate?? (I might be wrong on the writing part, but I'm pretty sure Gidel is said to be unable to speak because he didn't get an education :(, r.i.p to the poor boy)

But look at it, Anon! He clearly writes, and like a typical doctor as well! A highly educated man!

(Yeah, Gidel doesn’t know how to write lol I am not sure if Fellow is super literate either… just like the characters they are inspired by lol)

Anonymous asked:

I want to bite Idia’s thighs but I also want to nibble Lilia’s legs courtesy of your pic of him in those delicious Playful Land tights 😩

(this is about a sketch from ko-fi)

They really are nibbleable… nibbable… one would want to nib on them. And Lilia knows that :(

Thank you <3

irregardlessly-tish asked:

Since you started posting Fellow art I said to myself "I guess I'm watching that event now so I can look at the art and think yeah, he would totally get gang banged by them" lol

Tish! You’re great as always lol I hope you enjoy it as much as we did.

Fellow is so breedable it’s insane. I can’t help it.

unofficialwheatdog asked:

I'm gonna snatch Fellow away from everyone

Like that my husband, he fluffiness mine and mine alone

Mwah mwah to Fellow I wove him and the way you draw him

he's too good for them but ruined enough for me(lol me in my possessive era)

Omg real possessive era lol I get it, he really is fluffy to the point of leaving one speechless. But please understand, these boys can’t hold back at all… :( Be kinder them, they can’t help it!

I’m glad you love how I draw him <3

Anonymous asked:

Curious, u do non con/ rape art?

Pls tag if yes, I wanna see

I do, but I also don’t remember any recent noncon piece to tag anything lol I am definitely not opposed to it, and a lot of our nsfw pieces have at least dub-con vibes. I guess that one general!Lilia/Idia piece comes to mind first! And octopus!Azul/Idia that I drew for the same zine…

Maybe it would be easier to look through my pixiv logs; all the nsfw pieces are usually closer to the end of the log.

Anonymous asked:

You know I never had interest in drawing nsfw, I started a fanart blog with the intent of just making cute/cool sfw pieces maybe some ship stuff. However I am sick and tired of watching the twst fandom affect the mental health of my friends. And I know at least one of my ships will be threatened even if they just hold hands.

So here’s my plan: if I start receiving hate I will make an announcement: if I reach a particular milestone of hate I will learn to draw nsfw. I will make them kiss harder. Harass me and I will become worse.

Fr tho I want to be the brave idiot in the hope that others won’t feel alone.

Sorry for the late reply! Anon, you are already brave lol I like your plan. Become worse to spite them! And to support everyone who is harassed. And to have fun of course.

I wish you and your friends and anyone else didn’t have to worry about being harassed because of your ships. So please, take care of yourself, but also? Fuck them; draw and post whatever you want to make yourself and your friends happier and enjoy the fandom experience that you and your friends create.

Anonymous asked:

"something's missing..." might be your shirt rook, idk tho 🤔

(this is about this drawing)

Oh no, he forgot his shirt again. And no one at Savanaclaw is brave enough to tell him.

Anonymous asked:

 I remember that Savannaclaw Rook only cut his hair with a knife, soooo, yeah. How do you think first year Rook would respond to first year Idia and vice versa?

Honestly it looks like it lol He and Lilia have something in common…

We love first year Rook with first year Idia so much, Anon, you have no idea! And Rook/Idia in general, this is one of the things that I really want to draw properly at least once. For now we only have sketches…

But to answer your question! I like to think that Rook was very intrigued by Idia right away; of course Idia isn’t a beastman, but he is not only super bright and shiny-looking (unusual! Interesting!), but also is a very rare pokemon to see. It’s very easy to picture Rook getting excited and charmed by him, maybe he even had a period of a little obsession~ But of course none of this is in any way returned by Idia; to him being suddenly surrounded by so many loud and annoying people his age is already stressful enough, but Rook is somehow worse than all of them combined. He hates everyone from Savanaclaw, but they’re usually just rude jerks, but Rook? If only he was a rude jerk…

Anonymous asked:

Chen’ya, are you flashing people on purpose? What are you gonna do if someone likes it?

(related to this post)

Knowing Che’nya, he’ll probably disappear lol Never let them guess your next move. They liked it? Too bad. They didn’t like it? Oh too bad… >:3

Sometimes he is in a flirty mood though~

Anonymous asked:

I’m surprised Lilia doesn’t also spank Idia to punish him

He really should, and his spanks wouldn’t be as murderous as Azul’s! Idia is going to receive punishment AND survive!

I can picture Lilia stopping mid-spank with the realisation though: oh right, this isn’t his kid, this is Idia…

Anonymous asked:

(tw: self-harm)

this might be a bit dark but i’m curious: do you think idia self-harms? every now and then, i see ppl draw him with SH scars. i’ve never been able to decide if it feels like him or not. punishing himself, hating himself, wanting to control this one aspect of his life bc he can’t control anything else sound like idia, but also, being too resigned, lazy, or phobic of pain also sound like idia… little nutjob he is 😒 thoughts?

This is such a good question, Anon. It’s honestly still kind of easy to imagine him doing that. He punishes himself constantly, and while I don’t think this is necessarily about control, this absolutely could be about wanting to make himself feel even worse or to distract himself from the other kind of deep pain he’s feeling. Since we’re talking about a character here, as an artist I can also add that seeing him this way could be aesthetically pleasing, there are some very good artworks with this theme.

That being said, we usually tend to think that Idia wouldn’t do that. I agree that Idia being phobic of pain sounds very like him, but also? He is very detached from the physical side of things in general, I think. He would rather torment himself mentally.

Another reason for Idia and selfharm not really working in our heads is that I don’t think Ortho would let him. He is very sensitive to changes in his health condition after all.

[scribblestatic]

I'm on my chubby izu brainrot fr

(tw fat shaming, as usual)

First Trial: 50-Meter Dash

Of course, the buff speedy guy, Iida Tenya (from the Iida Family!!) took the fastest time at 3.04 seconds. However, the other times aren't to be ignored. The girl with the frog quirk, Asui Tsuyu, finished in just over 5.5 seconds.

Some claimed to shave off several seconds of their middle school times, like the flashy boy, Aoyama Yuuga. Others only ran just a few seconds faster, if the times changed at all.

Then, it was his and Kacchan's turn. The two stretched before preparing to shoot off.

"So, you ruined my goal of being the only one from our shitty school to get into U.A.," Kacchan mutters.

Izuku cautiously glances over bent slightly to prepare for running. But Katsuki grins at him, eyes crinkling.

"But you're gonna get kicked out just as quickly. What a fun first you're gonna have, quirkless lard ass!"

"START!" the robot's voice announces.

Katsuki splays his hands and fires off, one of the explosions going off near Izuku's face. Although his eyes burn with the sudden brightness, Izuku shuts them tightly and runs with his eyes closed, waiting for stars to quit bursting in his vision.

Kacchan finishes in 4.13 seconds.

As he looks down at his hands, he mulls over how using both of them reduced his overall output. Curious, he glances back to see how far behind Izuku is.

To his mild surprise, he passes the robot with his eyes squinted open, a slight burn mark on his nose.

"6.69 seconds."

Izuku stumbles to a stop, rubbing at the burn on his nose as nervous sweat seems to come off of him in a nova. Moreover, unlike some of the others, he doesn't appear to be out of breath, simply breathing just a bit heavier than usual from exertion.

"Wow..." A boy with tape dispensers in his elbows knocks one against another boy with yellow hair and a black streak, a grin on his face. "He beat you, man."

"Am...am I really that out of shape?" the boy, Kaminari Denki, mulls, thinking back to his 7.38 second time.

But Ochako reaches over, patting his shoulder. She herself got a 7.15 second time.

"Don't worry about it. He's got crazy stamina!"

Just thinking back to how quickly he recovered after Recovery Girl gave him a kiss still makes her wonder just where he got all that energy from. She was down for almost the entire rest of the day just to sleep!

"Oh. Huh... Is that his quirk?"

"Uhm...I don't actually know," she replies, shrugging sheepishly.

"Hmmh..." Katsuki simply glares at Izuku before moving on, the chubby boy following after to rejoin with the others.

As they approach, Ochako waves at him in greeting. He sees her, his nose still red, but his cheeks soon join, and despite his still nervous demeanor, he waves back quietly.

"I'm so happy to see him here! As soon as we're done, I wanna tell him thanks!"

"Huh, thanks for what?" the tape boy, Sero Hanta, asks.

"Oh, uh... I kinda got in some trouble during the exam and almost got really hurt. But he rescued me from the zero-pointer!"

"Eehh? That huge monster robot? He confronted that thing??" another voice cuts in.

When they look back, it's Eijirou, though he laughs.

"Hah, sorry for being nosy."

"No, no, it's fine. But yeah! My ankle got pinned, and he ran into the dust cloud to rescue me! He was super cool."

"Whoa...that's manly as hell!"

"Yeah, no way I was gonna confront that thing," Denki admits. "I was fizzed out by that point."

The group continue talking about the exam as the next part starts. Izuku doesn't really hear them, going back to the quiet corner of the group with a boy, who, after some silence and sign language, introduces himself as Kouda Koji.

Second Trial: Grip Strength Test

From his constant work lifting and carrying heavy items, he had to strengthen his grip so he wouldn't drop anything. That thankfully translated well into positive results.

Izuku upped his middle school grip from 52 kgw to 95 kgw. Of course, he hears his result get completely overshadowed by two other people.

One is a tall boy with several arms attached with a membrane. Shoji Mezo pumps out a whopping 540 kgw. Another person, Yaoyorozu Momo, creates a mechanized gauntlet, pulling out an astounding 600 kgw.

Izuku looks down at his grip machine, dejected. But it's the best he can do so far. If he manages to not be last, perhaps he can improve his grip even more.

Third Trial: Long Standing Jump

Izuku doesn't even want to think about his results. Unless it's on a diving board, jumping has never really been his strongest suit.

He doesn't realize he surpasses about three or four students in his jump, making them anxious about their own results.

Fourth Trial: Sustained Sideways Jumps

Izuku hates them.

He almost wants to ask to not do them, but he knows better than to do that. After all, it's necessary to see where he is strength-wise.

However, when he'd done them in middle school, his classmates had always laughed at him. His belly and thighs jiggle with his movements, and they would have quite cruel things to say. The teachers wouldn't really do anything about it.

So, when it's his turn, he feels his heart clench, already thinking he hears someone whispering about how entertaining it's going to be. His hands tremble a bit, but he clenches them into fists, going to stand in the middle, waiting to start.

As he does them, he feels their eyes on him. He almost starts crying, but he holds it back, his face scrunched in mild despair the entire time. He manages to finish before the first tears start dotting his lower eyelashes, and he quietly shuffles back to the silent crowd, holding back a sniffle.

"Oh, are you okay?"

Izuku blinks, looking up at the pretty girl he first saw when he entered the class. Yaoyorozu Momo stands there, concern in her eyes. There's nothing cruel there, at least, he doesn't think so.

"Did you hurt something? We can ask sensei to--"

But Izuku shakes his head.

"N-No. I'm fine. Th...Thank you."

He sniffles again, managing a smile for her.

"Oh... Alright. Well, keep it up!" She balls her fists cheerily. "Do your best!"

His smile slightly shifts to something less put-on. It's...not often he gets encouragement from others. It's pretty astounding how instant of a salve it is on his heart.

"I...I will."

Fifth Trial: Pitching

Izuku watches in awe as Ochako's ball floats up past the stratosphere.

Yeah, there's no way anyone else is getting as good of a result as that.

As Izuku heads out to pitch, Ochako and Tenya murmur to each other.

"Midoriya's his name, right? He's not doing too well."

"He's doing okay, I think," Ochako hums. "I heard his grip strength was really good. I'm not so surprised about that."

"That's true. But he's not really done anything super outstanding. Most of his results are average or above average. I'm not sure if that'll be enough for him to stay."

"Hah!"

Katsuki shoves his hands into his pockets, grinning snidely as Izuku stretches his arms.

"He's just a quirkless fatass. You shouldn't expect too much from him."

That catches a few people's attention, the nearby kids perking up.

"Wait, quirkless? For real?" A short purple boy, Mineta Minoru, asks. "I heard the reporters talking about it, but I didn't think it was real."

"Oooh, so he's the kid they were talking about? I didn't even know he was in our class!" Ashido Mina laughs.

"Ehh, but...if I lose to him, I've really got no excuse..."

"That's kind of rude, Kaminari-kun," Asui Tsuyu ribbits.

"Eh...so...he's quirkless," Ochako murmurs, shock dawning in her expression.

He was quirkless during the exam, too. And despite not having a quirk, he was the only one who ran to save her. Tenya seems to come to a similar conclusion, his mouth open in shock.

"...Don't expect much from him, you said?" Momo asks, a slight frown on her face. "You don't know, do you?"

"Hah? Don't know what?" Katsuki grouches back.

"Well... His name is Midoriya Izuku, right?"

"Yeah, what of it?"

She looks over to where Izuku is, the boy glancing nervously at the crowd and sweating. A quick call from their teacher forces him to focus back on the throw at hand.

"I'm sure you've heard your ranking for the Entrance Exam. I'm not in those results as I got in under the recommendation exam instead. But if I recall...yes. I think you got second place, right?"

Being reminded of his failure, Katsuki's expression immediately sours. Shoulders lowered and anger clear on his face, he glared at the girl.

"Yeah, what of it?!"

Momo then points at Izuku, who is doing his throw.

His arm moves quickly, tossing the ball as far as he can. It touches down a bit away, though not as far as some of the other results. Still, for a quirkless person, it's quite far at 106 meters. It beats out several of the others, especially those without physically-enhancing quirks.

"He got first."

They all stare at her, so she clarifies.

"Midoriya Izuku got first place in the regular Entrance Exam."

It's quite as Izuku approaches the group, prepared to go back to the quiet corner again. But when they notice him, all eyes lock on him. Izuku squeaks, freezing up.

"...'You shouldn't expect too much from him.'" Hanta mocks quietly, covering his mouth. "Says the guy who got second place to him."

Beside him, Jirou Kyouka can't help but snicker.

But Katsuki barely hears them. Instead, all he hears is the blood rushing through his body, turning into a torrent of rage.

What the hell?

Who did this quirkless fatass think he was, coming in first? It was already implausible he passed in the first place, but he has the audacity to come in first?!

Katsuki was frustrated that he didn't get first place, coming in second. He vowed then that he would totally destroy whoever actually got the first place mantle to show them who really deserved it. For a minute there, he thought it was maybe Ponytail Girl was the one who beat him out, but she was some Extra Elite who got in through connections.

But he never once would've imagined the one who beat him out was that useless lard bastard!

His hands began to smoke. Then, he swiftly turns away, running full speed at Izuku.

The boy's eyes widen before he shuts them tightly, raising his arms to protect his face. That just irritates him even more.

"You shitrag! Explain yourself, Deku!"

He reaches out, ready to pummel him into the dirt. But pale wrappings suddenly tighten around his body, and his quirk, once thrumming under his skin, is suddenly dissipated, as though it was never there.

Katsuki grunts, the bindings pulling his head back and forcing him to shut an eye.

Izuku stays standing there for a moment, frozen up and waiting to be hit, until an irritated voice echoes over them.

"You."

All of the students look over to their teacher.

Eraser Head's hair floats ominously over his body, the wraps around his neck also hovering. He digs his fingers into the tough material of his capture weapon, eyes gleaming bright red. Indeed, concealed around his neck are the yellow and black goggles indicative of Eraser Head.

"I said you're using your quirks to test your limits, not to use it against each other," he says, his tone low and rumbling. "So what made you think attacking your classmate was a good idea?"

What the hell...

From the time they were four, no one stopped him when he went to whomp on Deku. Katsuki was better than him, so if Deku got in his way, the students and teachers let him do what he wanted. Deku was just a pebble in the road for him, just someone for him to step on and continue forward.

But the little bastard got it up in his head that he could cram himself into the sole of his shoe and carry himself forward with it. Now he's trying to detach from his shoe and fly forward, further ahead, using him as cannon fodder.

No way. No fucking way. He wouldn't allow it.

But his quirk doesn't answer him, Eraser Head glaring as his eyelids lowered.

"Pull this stunt again, and I'll expel you right here and now, saving everyone else the trouble. Understood?"

Katsuki flinches. Then, he stops pulling against the capture weapon, backing up. After a moment, it slips from around him, returning easily to Eraser Head with a light tug. Meanwhile, Izuku stares at the teacher with sparkling eyes, absolutely enamored by being able to see his quirk in action.

"Ughh...don't make me use my quirk unnecessarily," he grumbles, rubbing his eyes as his hair stops floating. He digs into his pocket and takes out eyedrops, putting one in each eye with practiced ease. "...Anyway, on to the next trial."

Izuku immediately goes to follow, though he flinches upon remembering Katsuki's there. He lowers his head and slinks around him, going over to the group. There, he finds himself surprised when a few students approach him.

"Hey, are you okay?! He didn't get you, did he?" an invisible girl, Hagakure Tooru, asks, her body language showing concern.

"That startled me, the way he just jumped out at you... Do you know him?" Ochako asks.

"Oh...uhm..." His face immediately starts turning red, not used to this sort of attention. "I...I'm...okay."

"Sensei was right to stop him," Momo huffs, shooting a glare toward him. "C'mon, we need to go to the next test."

"Yikes...that wasn't cool at all," Denki mutters.

"Jumping at a quirkless person like that is pretty bad, isn't it? I mean, as a hero, for sure," Sato Rikido murmurs, bending down toward a bird-headed student. While he doesn't reply by speaking, Tokoyami Fumikage hums his agreement.

Katsuki remains standing there for a moment before he grits his teeth, following after the others to the next test.

[beneathashadytree]

Hi! i hope you're having a good day <3 your Reiner fanfic appeared on my tl and I want to say it was AMAZING fr, but u made me hate Karina a little more (if that possible lmao)

And u made me think now that we are talking about the warriors, can u try to write a zeke fanfic where he falls in love with a Paradise devil and takes them to Marley after the Shinganshina fight? Feel free to ignore and thanks ^^

(2/2) OH OH and please if u take my request the reader has to be an Ackerman, maybe Levi's cousin if u want.

THANKS ❤

SEALED - ZEKE YEAGER X READER

Warnings : implications of sex but nothing is mentioned, some descriptions of bodily harm (kudos to Levi of course), this is not proof-read at all, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : fluff ig? Idk really

Word count : 4.4K words

Synopsis : Zeke's curiosity has no ends, and it's the reason why he has a whirlwind love story.

Additional notes : I am so so sorry, as you might've seen me post about last week I've been swamped with work ever since you sent in your request, so I haven't been able to write much. I apologize in advance, since I'm not that familiar with Zeke's personality in comparison to Levi's for example, so it might be a little OOC. I hope you enjoy reading it though, and I'd love to hear your feedback!

Requests : Are open! Check the rules over here.

Want to support me financially? Here’s my CashApp!

Masterlist

When he met them, it wasn't Zeke's first visit to the proclaimed infamous island of devils, but it certainly was the most remarkable.

The first time he'd been to Paradise Island was, as expected of the Wonder Boy Marley had claimed their own, part of a mission he'd been given. He was told to go inspect the environment and the way they lived, to try his best and figure out the best course of action so he could carry out the titan experiments the military asks of him without drawing the Eldians' attention to the issue at hand.

He'd given it thought for a bit, before coming to the conclusion that the safest option would be to scout the outermost villages; the ones least likely to cause a commotion should a problem arise, and that was why he currently found himself trekking the dirt road that cut through the lands between the walls the island dwellers called Rose and Maria (he wondered what their namesake was; he'd make sure to ask sometime later on).

Once he'd hopped off the trusty horse he'd been riding day in day out since the ship had landed on the shore, he found himself standing in front of a wooden archway that seemed to announce his entrance into the boundaries of a rather neat village. Run-down as it looked in comparison to the bustling Marleyan cities bursting at the seams with the population and progressing technology, the village looked like it was flourishing just fine with the isolation.

"Wish I had some sort of translation book on me," he murmured to himself, pushing his spectacles up on his nose as he squinted, trying his best to read the lines he vaguely discerned as letters that resembled that of the Marleyan alphabet.

It took him a couple of seconds, but he was finally able to pronounce the name,"Ragako Village," with a hum, before tying his horse to the nearest post in an attempt to be as inauspicious as possible---something helped by the fact that he'd been dressed in simpler and far more muted attire than the usual military get-up.

Taking his time to eye the orderly stables as the caretakers shushed neighing horses, watching as little kids that barely reached his knees fought over who was to take the biggest loaf of bread, and almost tripping over a man who seemed perfectly content with sitting down in the middle of the road to tug at the weeds as he hummed a soothing tune, nothing about this village seemed out of the ordinary or even made it stand out at all to Zeke. In fact, if he hadn't stumbled across the ruins, he would've probably initiated his plans without so much a second glance. And yet here he was, head cocked to the side as he looked at the remains of what resembled a chapel with interest.

Hand on his chin, he stepped closer, softly saying to himself, "Odd, I thought the religious sects were behind wall Sina..."

Before he could step inside the half-destroyed chapel with curious eyes, he was stopped by a sharp voice.

"Unauthorized personnel are not allowed to enter. Please refrain from breaking the law when you're clearly not from Ragako."

As they sighed, he turned to see a person clad in proper attire that didn't seem to fit the atmosphere of the village in the least. Without sparing Zeke a glance, they crossed the threshold and began to make their way inside, earning an arched brow from the blonde.

"You're one to talk. You stick out like a sore thumb, and that's delicately put," with a pointed look, he watched as they scoffed, before tugging a small piece of paper from the bag they carried over their shoulder.

"As a matter of fact, I do have permission," they said, eyes not unkind but seemingly rather empty, "I am a journalist, after all."

A look of surprise on his face, he tried to look for anyone in the vicinty, "Where's your cameraman then?"

Frowning, they sounded confused, "Excuse me?"

Quickly catching onto the fact that this was probably one of the things the island was ignorant to the existence of, he shook his head, "Nothing, nothing," with what looked a bit like a longing look, he gave the ruins another once over, "I'll be off then."

Before he could lament his inability to inspect the glass windows up close, the journalist in front of him stepped forward, hesitating a moment and then speaking up, "If you would like that, I could have my piece directly sent to your place as soon as it's published."

Smiling, he only waved them off, "I'll see your editor once he has it done. I really can't wait that long."

"Traveling?" they asked politely, eyeing his odd lack of carry-ons, and he nodded in reply, to which they simply pulled what looked like a business card out of their pocket and handing it over to him, "You'll find the details of my editor and publisher over here. It should be ready in two days."

Another mildly shocked expression crossed Zeke's face, "Impressive. Thank you, anyways," and before they could give him a reply, he was already stuffing the card in his coat pockets, turning away to make his way back to where his horse was waiting obediently, cooing as he brushed her glossy mane, "I suppose we'll have to make it to wall Sina in just under two days, won't we, Betty?"

***

"Well, this certainly wasn't what I expected," Zeke chuckled two days later, a certain lilt in his voice as he admired the tattered badges and sashes in the glass cabinets littering the four walls of the room, "I had something else in mind when you mentioned that the editorial room was designed to your taste."

"My taste is to pride my family name without being targetted," they shrugged, picking up the steaming teacup from the table as their guest stepped closer to the glass, pushing his spectacles upwards to have a clearer view in order to try and make a head or tail out of the prized posessions.

"Pardon my asking, but what are these?" he asked, curiously eyeing every artifact, "They look rather old."

"They're from the first Ackermans that served under the king directly," pausing as they sipped at their tea, a smirk formed on their lips, "If anything, they're the reason why I've lived for so long."

Arching his eyebrow at her comment, he wanted to inquire further in that direction, but chose a tamer question, "How are you related to them?"

"My father was an Ackerman," setting the teacup down, they stood up to join the blonde man, "Haven't the slightest idea where he is now, though, and there's no point in trying to fish him out," with a shake of their head, they sighed, "The name's been sullied one too many times, and now most Ackermans with any common sense are in hiding."

This only served to pique Zeke's curiosity; he'd be a liar if he claimed that he didn't want to know just how much the journalist knew about the King and what he'd done; of their true heritage; if the Ackermans played any role in this play the King had constructed a hundred years ago. But, knowing all too well the risks, he once again remained quiet about his thoughts.

"Why aren't you in hiding?"

"No point in it, I will be hunted down either ways," they chuckled lightly, and it sounded oddly pleasant to Zeke, who'd grown so accustomed to barked orders and stiff talk that hearing something so lighthearted in comparison caught him off guard, "Being a journalist means that I'm not exactly loved, because I don't always serve what the public wants to hear."

"Controversial, I see," he couldn't control the grin making its way on his face and the way he was making it so blatantly obvious that he was hanging on to their every word.

"That's one way to put it, yes," guiding him across the room, he looked on in awe at the multiple trophies in the cabinets, before his attention went back to their words when they spoke again, "It really does seem like being hated on is an Ackerman thing, though."

Surprised, Zeke snapped his head back to look at them, "You mean you have siblings?"

Shaking their head, they slumped back into the large chair at one end of the small table, an open invitation for Zeke to sit once more, "No, none, but I do have a cousin. His mother was my father's sister."

"Does he work as some sort of public figure then?"

Pausing, they laughed, and Zeke could feel the flush forming on his cheeks at the delicate sound, "He shouldn't be, considering his position and abrasiveness, but he is. He's the captain of the scouting legion in the military."

"Must have a lot of fans, then, if he's anywhere near as magnetic as you are," the wonder boy rested his chin on his palm, probably not having realized just how flirtatious his words came off as being.

But really, considering the laidback expression on their expression, it seemed that neither of them minded the saccharine words.

Finger tracing the rim of the cup, they nodded towards the paper in front of Zeke, their lazy smirk not letting up as they pushed the article with the words 'chapel' and 'Ragako' in the title towards him, "Tell me if it meets your expectations of me over chamomile tea next time."

***

Half a week had passed before Zeke had the opportunity to speak to them again, considering the fact that he had to carry out some orders that had been given to him from the homeland. Loitering around was good fun and all, but he couldn't forget the real reason he was on this island he pitied so much in the first place.

This time, when he knocked on the door to the editorial room, he was tugged away to their own quaint little house, with the excuse that 'they were out of tea here', which seemed viable enough of an excuse to him---but he had to admit, he was rather flustered by the fact that they seemed to want him around just as much as he wanted to get to know them on a more personal level.

Pouring the warm tea with the soothing scent wafting from the cups, they watched as Zeke absentmindedly stroked his beard on the couch, a calculating look in his eyes as he tried to decipher the meaning behind this invitation, not wanting to get ahead of himself and misreading their intentions.

"Is this about the paper?" he asked, before arching his eyebrow, "If it is, I hope you know you most certainly surpassed any expectations I had for you. It was riveting to read."

With a mysterious smile, they took a seat beside him on the couch, leaving only a few inches of space between them, leaning against the armrest as they met his piercing grey gaze with an equally trained look, hovering between being enticing and looking pleased, "As flattered as I am to hear that, what if I wasn't going to ask about that?"

For some reason, their soft voice was as calming as the tea he'd just sipped on, bringing about a very similar warmth too. Hoping he wasn't wrong in assuming that their intentions truly were what he had believed they were to be, he leaned in closer, cheek pressed into his palm as he decided to play along.

"Really?" with a chuckle, he gave an inviting smile, "Then what would you want of a mere traveler?"

They were so much closer now, their features much more defined and their perfume all the more captivating when they were in such close proximity to him, and Zeke couldn't bring himself to look away when their plump lips spoke again, "Whatever you have to offer."

Pressing his thighs to theirs as they were now sidled against each other on the couch, he could count every blemish on their face if he want to---only he couldn't break their eye contact; not even if he wanted to.

"I'll be gone in a few days though," he was much quieter now, words heavy in the air, "And you don't even know anything about me," their index finger delicately drew shapes on the muscle of his thigh, and he had to hold back the shiver he wanted to let loose at the contact.

"I'll just have to wait for your return then," they grinned, something akin to mischief painting their face, "And I'll learn whatever you want me to know."

He could only hum in agreement, as though signing an unspoken contract, before he closed the gap between their lips.

Sweet, was all he could think they tasted.

***

True to his word, he disappeared on them little more than a week after they started their daily escapades. He didn't know what had him so reluctant to leave---the fact that he might never come back? The feel of their skin against his, warm and throbbing with every time they entwined? Or the way that he---for once in his literally damned life---truly felt alive with someone who wanted to hear more about him? For whatever reason it was, Zeke found himself wanting to go back as soon as he'd left.

The opportunity presented itself to him when---a few years after having watched their tiny world get reduced to little more than ashes as according to the plan Captain Magath had set for the four youngest Marleyan warriors---he was sent back to the very same village he'd first stumbled upon them and the first place they'd bewitched him. If he hadn't known better, he would've believed that they truly were a devil in that aspect.

Still, Zeke knew he couldn't defy the orders given to him just to frolick. Pieck had long noticed his distraction, as he silently prayed to whatever deity that they wouldn't be on some sort of excursion within the vicinity, because that would only spell trouble for him.

"War chief Zeke, it's time," her hoarse voice was almost unrecognizable, and she could only snap him out of his daze when he'd double-checked that their horse was nowhere in sight, "We have to start the operation before they catch onto us."

Nodding his head, he indicated the spots where the Marleyan soldiers were to place their gas cannisters, "Think we have enough of my spinal fluid in this? It's pointless if it isn't concentrated enough. My powers can only do so much."

A hollow sound that resembled a laugh came from her titan form, "No need to be humble, you are our wonder boy, after all."

Thanking her politely, he waited until all the gadgets were set up in the exact same locations he'd marked and every single cannister was spraying the volatile gas into a thick wall of smoke that drifted to spread over the vilage.

Glancing towards Pieck, who did her best to nod in that form, he broke into a sprint, roaring into the fields and pathways filled with paralyzed bodies. In an almost apocalyptic scene, the blinding yellow light served as nothing but a mere warning, before the still bodies turned into hulking titans that towered over Zeke, who must've looked ridiculous amongst their huge forms that cast shadows over the remains of the entire village.

Before he could hop onto the horse, he gave Ragako one final sympathetic look, "They were doomed from the start," with a tired sigh, he turned to the cart titan, "Let's go, Pieck. We've done our part."

Having to wait for the ship to come pick them up meant that the two warriors had a few days to spend doing whatever pleased them. Pieck told him she'll be looking for good books to buy with the allowance she'd been given, and he'd bid her off with the promise of meeting at the dock by the end of the week. Though she seemed curious enough, she didn't ask him the questions he knew she wanted to ask, and he was rather thankful for that because he doubted he would've been able to give her a truthful answer.

Without any further questioning, he found himself knocking on the door of the place he hadn't seen in so many years. Part of him dreaded what he'd see on the other side, wondering if the new garden in the front was the idea of someone else he'd yet to be acquainted with; someone who'd taken his place when he'd only served as a whirlwind affair.

But none of that happened. The door had swung open, and all he'd seen was a slightly more barren house that belonged to a slightly more worn-down person. Zeke found himself at a loss, not knowing if he belonged there anymore when everything was---at the end of the day---technically all his fault. He was a criminal, and to this day they hadn't the slightest idea just how much he'd sinned; just how much he'd wrecked the place they'd called home and yet still invited himself over.

His train of thought was interrupted by that somewhat cynical smile that had sent his feelings into disarray dozens of times before, "You took your sweet time coming back," and with that, they pulled him inside once more.

With a glance around, he noticed the piles of papers scattered around the room, "You've been busy, I see."

Sighing in exhaustion, they pushed aside some of the half-scribbled documents, "Sometimes, Levi asks for favors from the press in favor of the scouts. It's not easy for them now."

He joined them on the couch he remembered vaguely to have spent their first night on, "It'll be even harder after today."

Confusion laced their voice, "How do you know that?"

Leaning in, he knew that if there was any hope in pursuing something with them, then he had a lot to explain.

"Do you still want to learn more about who I am?"

***

This time, he didn't know whether to feel pride at the angry red scratches at his back or to feel ashamed by them---and it had nothing to do with the fact that he was lost in the arms of an Eldian (after all, he wouldn't be lying if he said he'd never given a damn about that, only wishing to provide solutions without resorting to blind hatred). With his cigar dangling lazily between his teeth, he didn't know what to think.

Guaranteed, he thought as he puffed smoke from his lips, their reaction wasn't anything unexpected. As he'd predicted, they knew a fair share of information, their father---a Kenny Ackerman whose whereabouts were still unknown---having left behind a jumble of letters explaining what his own ancestors had told him, though it really wasn't much in the first place. The bastard child had grown up on their own, with only that information, telling them of their inheritance and what little of the world history was known to their clan. It was only normal that they'd grow horrified at Zeke's confession, and it was only normal that they'd barked their disgust at him in a fit of rage.

Though he had to admit, the part where they'd sniffled and pulled him closer wasn't something he'd predicted. He hadn't foreseen that they'd fall into bed in a flurry of tangled limbs and torn off clothes, and he certainly hadn't expected the way they'd egged him on to distract them from the fact that they were forbidden with the body and lips and presence they'd somehow missed so dearly.

A lonely child, and an even lonlier adult, he'd never thought he'd one day have someone's arms wrapped around him as they napped peacefully. In all honesty, as he put out the cigar that had been burnt to a stub, he doubted he deserved it. After all, the island's blood had seeped into his fingertips, and it could only get worse from here on out.

Maybe it was his smoking that had roused them from their sleep, or maybe they'd already rested well, but for whatever reason he found them sitting upright, curling into his much warmer chest.

"If doomsday were to come, would you come with me?"

They blinked twice, before naked hips came into contact with his as they lay ontop of him, "Where will we go?"

Fingers running delicately through their hair, he spoke matter-of-factly, "To Marley, my hometown."

"Like that's any safer," they rolled their eyes, looking away from his earnest gaze.

"It isn't destined to be destroyed, not yet."

They scoffed, "So you want me to leave the place I've lived in my entire life? To leave my cousin behind for dead?"

"Because this island will be flattened and I don't want you to die?" he arched his eyebrow, taking his glasses from the bedside table to see their softened expression properly, "Then yes, that's exactly what I want. I'm a very selfish man, after all."

"Zeke, it's not---"

"I know," he interrupted, "It's not easy, and it's not ideal, but I don't want to lose the one person who makes me feel something," he huffed, carding his fingers through his blonde hair impatiently for the first time in quite a long while feeling like a restless teenager, "It's up to Levi to save his own skin."

Rubbing at their eyes tiredly, they remained quiet for a while before speaking into his chest, "He'll bring you hell."

Squeezing them tighter, he could only reply, "I'll welcome it gladly."

***

Like a prophecy coming true, months later, Levi's sword had successfully ripped off half his face, plunged deep into his skin as he tried to scream in agony. He'd gravely underestimated his skill, though he should've listened to his lover's claims of his strength.

"You," the ebony-haired man spat out, venom lacing his words as he dug his blade deeper, knocking into his skull, pain searing through his body as he twisted it into Zeke's face, "You're the scum I'd seen with my cousin in town."

Barely able to choke the words out, Zeke could only say, "Bit rich of you to call me scum, don't you think?"

"I'll call you whatever the fuck I want," he hissed at him, raw unadulterated fury directed towards the bespectacled titan shifter underneath him, the look telling him just how much he wished to rip him from limb to limb, "You don't get a say in this when you've laid your filthy fingers on my family."

It took Zeke all he had in him not to chuckle at the sheer rage being emitted from him. The hostility only made him more amused, and he clearly wasn't all too good at hiding how he was feeling, because Levi seemed to determine that he needed to plunge his blades deeper with a sickening squelch.

The words on his tongue turned into pained howls as Levi gritted his teeth, "You deserve to die twice now, you piece of shit."

"Won't," he garbled out, teeth knocking into the metal blade.

Narrowing his steely eyes, the shorter man was about to deliver the dealing blow, knuckles white as he gripped the handles of his blades tighter, but Pieck's movements were far more trained and honed to let that happen, and within less than a second, she'd snatched Zeke's mangled form into her mouth, with Levi narrowly missing her teeth as he swiftly jumped away.

His escape route now available, he could barely register anything around him as his body struggled to heal itself as rapidly as he possibly could, but all he could manage to say to the cart titan was one thing, "As we planned."

She didn't have to voice her confirmation, taking advantage of her larger form to bound across the land to where Zeke had told her the person she was ordered to pick up was staying. Amongst the rubble and remains of houses they stood, clad in all white, a sign of the rebirth Zeke had promised them; sticking to their word and to their plan, no matter how much of a traitor it painted them as, and no matter how much of their heart they left behind on the island of devils.

Their alarmed face was rather humorous at first as Pieck landed with a slam of her large body right in front of them, barely missing them, but they quickly calmed down as they saw the steam rising from between her teeth.

"He's... healing?" with hesitation they asked, and Pieck could only nod.

They carefully wrapped their arms around his torso as she loosened her teeth's grip on him, allowing them to tug at Zeke's barely conscious form and pulling him up on her back, where they tried their best to untangle the mess of leather straps and metal so they could create a makeshift saddle they could strap him down on.

Though Zeke knew it was a rather disturbing sight for them to see for the first time, limbless and tattered almost beyond repair, he marveled at how they kept their disgust to a minimum despite normally being iffy about anything that involved getting their hands dirty. With as little pain being inflicted on him during the process, they were soon tapping his newly-reformed thigh, hissing a little at the heat as they sidled in front of him.

Sitting still for a few minutes, he could feel the resounding pain growing into more of an itch with numbness, his spinning head growing steadier. Twitching in place, he nudged them with his knee, trying to alert them to his consciousness.

"A little better now?" their voice sounded a little rougher than he was accustomed to, and it hit Zeke just how huge the magnitude of what was about to happen would be, and how a small part of them must've been beyond terrified but refused to reveal itself to him.

Still feeling a bit sore, he nodded, rasping out, "We're going to leave for Marley now. No backing out."

"No," they agreed, a heavy sigh escaping them as they leaned down to grab at Pieck's neck for safety, and the blonde man could here the resolute determination in their voice as they repeated after him, as though sealing their fate with unbreakable wax, "There isn't."

Taglist: @blondeboyfriend @mrsgiovanna

[ianstummy]

sigh rant time :/

so i, as every other (sane) pjo fan heard about the casting and immediately went feral. my friend and i were losing our shit. i was having a bad day and i saw the casting photo and it turned around so quick i was fucking ECSTATIC. like i was out here running around the house telling my mom, my heart was melting bro.

that lasted about 3 hours 😃

unfortunately, i opened the hellscape that is instagram to follow the actors and i came upon the comment section of the casting announcement that disney plus posted.

these comments were… not great, to say the least.

AND I’M SORRY OKAY I’M SORRY. i know it’s supposed to be a happy day. and usually these wouldn’t bother me that much but i don’t know i really thought the pjo fandom was different :/ like with how welcoming everyone was to walker idk i guess i momentarily forgot racism and sexism is apparently still a thing and just assumed it would be the same with annabeth.

and fr i do not wanna make ppl upset so if u wanna ignore this please go right ahead and do so bcoz i do not wanna ruin this for you like it was for me.

it’s just that as a woc it’s so fucking tiring to see this happen again and again. like we are literally the younger generation, when the fuck is it going to get better? and the fact that all the arguments behind these comments are literally just thinly veiled attempts to cover their racism. like “well that’s not how she looked in the books 🥸” “she’s not annabeth 🥸” like motherfucker, you realize the actual person who WROTE THE BOOKS, THE ACTUAL AUTHOR. IS THE ONE WHO CAST THEM??? HOW THE FUCK IS THAT “NOT ANNABETH” WHEN THE PERSON WHO LITERALLY CREATED ANNABETH IS SAYING IT IS ??? i don’t even wanna imagine the actress seeing comments like this when she’s literally like 12 fucking years old what the fuck. ppl like this make me sick to my fucking stomach.

anyway i don’t want to end this on an angry note, especially not today. let’s just focus on the fact that at the end of the day this is such a win for us :) and whether these people like it or not doesn’t even matter at the end of the day because it’s still happening. black annabeth :’) brown grover :’’’). it’s actually real and it’s actually happening and soon we’ll have an awesome show w these awesome actors.

oof. okay. again please feel free to scroll past this. rlly just needed a place to rant and i think tumblrs relatively sane compared to other social media rn. thank you if u read all this. lesgooooo real pjo fans we gotta stick together in times like this :)

[knowltonsrangers]

Alphabet: Baker

[a/n: OOF this is a long one! A quick fyi, I’ve got a couple requests I’m working on right now :) but life has been so hectic lately and I’m so sorry I haven’t been around! If y’all want, my inbox is open for this fluff alphabet! Just send me a couple letters & a person 💓]

Ensign (Thomas) Baker x reader

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Thomas is.. shy, for lack of a better term. In the beginning of your relationship, it’d be soft touches, hand holding and an arm around your shoulders. Although, he shows affection in many ways, not only by touch. The smiles he sends your way are enough to melt you right there.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Oh oh oh! he would be like the definition of a genuine, best friend. You know he has your back and will stand by you regardless of the outcome. Thomas is a ride or die, for sure! And on how the friendship would start.. I’d have to say how it was I met my best friend. Imagine just working your job with him, just working shift after shift with him, and getting to laugh out loud with him for hours. The friendship would for sure begin on terms of similarities and small talk.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Omg yes! Thomas’ characterization just radiates purity and softness. He would absolutely love to cuddle, and often is the big spoon, but is never opposed to being the little spoon. And on some bad days, you know that he just wants to be held. Cuddling ranges from burrowing into the others sides on the couch, to hugging from behind in bed.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

YES. We can see in TURN that Thomas yearns for love, and that if he’s found it, he’s yours forever. He’d definitely want to settle down, if you were up for it.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

I don’t really ever see Thomas being the one to break things off unless it was a situation where he either felt he had to remove himself, or he thought something was by his doing. But, if he had to, he’d do it in person and it wouldn’t be like dropping a big bomb. You’d know, and he would never lead you on in a different direction.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Commitment is 100%! But slow on the marriage part. Of course he wants to marry you, and spend the rest of your lives together! He just isn’t the one to propose after one or two years. Give him some time. However, y’all talk about marriage a lot. It’s not something he’s afraid of, it’s something he just wants to cherish and not rush.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

For his like, extremely intimidating height, he is like the gentlest person. Ever. He’s got calloused hands, sure, but he’s always hesitant that what he’s about to do will upset you in some way. Like he says to Mary, “there is love here, because I know what it’s absence feels like” (I’m paraphrasing pls forgive me) he is so gentle with his actions because he wants to show the love he has for you and that is it, bottom line.

Emotionally.. he’s also the gentlest. He is a shoulder to cry on, a never moving pillar of support. And while you do not have to pry his feelings out of him with a crowbar, you do have to do some coaxing. He never wants to feel like a burden. Pls tell him he’s the best and that he’s never a burden.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

GUESS WHAT. You lucked out in the hug department! #1 form of affection FR! He does the thing where he’ll hug you from behind & drops his chin on the top of your head. He loves to give hugs, but when you give him hugs... he melts. Wrap your arms around his waist and squeeze him. Tell him how pretty he is. Hugs from Thomas feel like a million bucks, with a tray of never ending affection.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Takes him a bit. If y’all met in April, started dating in September, he might just save it for Valentines Day because he’s cheesy. But, sometimes more intimate and emotional moments catch him off guard and he finds himself mumbling it to you. When you’re not around, he says it so casually you’d think he’s told you already. “(y/n)? They’re the best, I love them.”

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

About 25%. He never saw himself as ‘good enough’ (his terrible childhood gave him that horrible impression) so in moments of insecurity he has tiny doubts. But it never lasts for long, because jealousy can’t ever stick in his mind for long. Once you’ve both committed to the relationship? All doubts fly out the window. His bouts of jealousy never last long because he trusts you.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

OH. MY. GOODNESS-

His kisses are like,,, spectacular?? Fantastic??? Amazing!??!? Hardly a word to describe ‘em. He’ll kiss you just about everywhere in private, but in public it’s mild. Leans down and presses his nose to your temple, and then plants the softest kiss on your cheek.

Thomas.. loves to be kisses on the nose.

HEAR ME OUT FOR JUST ONE SEC..

Can you imagine just starting to boop his nose, just to be funny. Mainly cause when he looks down at you it’s funny to reach up and boop his nose.

And then, when y’all are on the couch, just sitting and chillin, you reach up and kiss the tip of his nose.

He gets weak in the knees every time.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He’s the absolute best! Thomas gets down on his knees and will chat along with little children. Have a baby niece or nephew? He’s still as a statue holding them, but they always fall asleep in his arms every time. He is the best around children, because he’s used to being surrounded by them. Being raised in an orphanage taught him to have the patience of a saint. Children just gravitate towards him, because he radiates kindness.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Thomas is early to bed and early to rise. He prides himself on a good nights sleep to have a good day. When he sleeps in past his alarms, something is bothering him.

But on the topic of how mornings are spent.. they are full of drowsy kisses and breakfast being made and eaten together. The kitchen is the heart of the household, and that’s why mornings are so meaningful.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

While never opposed to a nice dinner or outdoors date, many nights are spent together binging tv shows and movies. (Especially during quarantine!) I’ve mentioned this before, but I HC Thomas to be a huge horror/slasher movie fan. If that isn’t your thing, don’t worry! Thomas loves all genres. Sappy rom coms, comedy, action, adventure-your pick is perfectly fine with him! He just enjoys your company, and if date night is a movie and take-out, he’s over the moon about it!

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It doesn’t take too long, per se. Many things he is open about, not knowing his mother, being raised in an orphanage.. he’ll tell you these things when your relationship starts, not extremely fast. But fairly quick. Other things about his life, that’s a whole other ball park. Getting him to open up is a bit harder, but not impossible.  

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

It would take a really low blow to anger Thomas. I really don’t have much to say on this one. Because although he can get angry, he try’s hard to be passive in most arguments. He doesn’t want to ruin anything, so if it’s a silly argument, he’ll find a compromise. If it’s more serious, he usually announces he needs time to think, and he’ll slip away to do some.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Yes yes!! You will tell him your shoe size ONCE and he will remember it forever! Swear he has photographic memory. He’s so good at birthdays, anniversaries, holidays-all these little facts you share about yourself are all stored in a part of Thomas’ brain.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

When you told him you loved him back. Yes, he’s said it to you, but you saying it back? Or whomever says it first, maybe it’s you. Doesn’t matter, because either way hearing those three words come out of your mouth is enough to send his heart into his throat. The feeling of being loved is so overwhelming. He will always use that memory as a crutch in hard times, because you both felt so vulnerable to the world yet full of absolute hope.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Not overprotective at all. He’s not overbearing, but of course if someone was being degrading or negative towards you, he wouldn’t hesitate to defend you. If you can defend yourself, he’s behind you silently cheering you on.

Like mentioned before, Thomas is a rather intimidating man apon first glance. Although he has never picked any fights, he’s had to dodge a few. If you defended him, he’d feel his heart swell. “(y/n), it’s okay, really,”

But he’d never forget it, ever.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

About 200% and then some. He is a SWEETIE and wants to show how much he loves you!

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Doubting. Can ruin his own day with the clouds of doubt and rampaging thoughts that take over his mind. He’s gotten much better at it, but he needs some guidance every once in a while. Be his light at the end of the tunnel, guide him home!

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Basically at a 0% concern. He’s always considered himself average looking (and you disagree with him on that all day long!) he dresses like any man of the time, and looks absolutely handsome all the time. Call him pretty all you like, because it makes him blush. He’s not changing how he looks to impress you, because you’ve made it abundantly clear you love him just the way he is.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Oh, yes. If you were ever away from him, no matter the reason, he’d feel like a piece of his heart was missing. You’re his other half, he needs you.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He loves everything about the wintertime, but his favorite has to be when you steal his jackets and hoodies. He finds it so endearing and downright cute.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Lying and dishonesty.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He’s an early riser, but he’s a bit guilty of reading before bed and when he wakes up.

Although, when you both share a bed, he’s curling himself around you. He can’t sleep any other way.

[brieffs]

rant time everyone

this has been a pretty awful few days fr

About an hour til my shift was over on Thursday I check my phone, my brother (who lives in California) sent a screenshot of him and mom talking about dad testing positive for covid. I’m terrified. I tell my coworkers, employer, and then call my mom asking what the hell is going on. 

She tells me to “chill out” and “it isn’t a big deal”.  I tell her I have to leave work for two weeks, she insists I can go back, even though my employer and the CDC say otherwise.

Great. Thanks to you the entire restaurant could be compromised, all the people I served, the workers, the building itself. I’m scared for all of them.

I go home and find out that they knew before I went to work. I lose my shit and rightfully so. What kind of sane person does that? Doesn’t tell them a family member they’re living with has covid and lets them go to work in foodservice?  “I didn’t want to worry you.” was her answer. 

WHAT THE FUCK??

Because of you, I could have possibly infected an entire restaurant. Because of your harmful, idiotic choice, people care at risk. 

But it doesn’t stop there

Today we get tested, which if you haven’t I’m just letting you know it’s awful, but well worth saving yours and other people’s lives. nbd. When we get home she says she’s going to get groceries, she wears a mask and gloves, that’s fine, but then announces she’ll also be attending pilates. 

THE FUCK YOU WILL

me and sis beg her to stay, we’ll run to target but she leaves anyway. I of course cursed her out and called her a moron for being so fucking stupid about the situation. 

But not all hope is lost, I call up the studio and explain the situation, basically saying “I’m really sorry if she turns into an explosive Karen but I’d rather you know” they thank me and all is good. 

I get a call minutes later from mom, pretty much threatening me. I go off, telling her how fucking stupid she’s being about this, how she’s putting people’s lives at risk. She laughs at me and hangs up. 

I lose it, about 99% sure she’s going to beat/berate me for ruining her day because she can’t go to fucking pilates. My sis, bro, and dad are all on my side cause we have working brains obviously. 

She gets home and loses her mind, belittling me, insulting me saying that she has “no use” for me, that I act so high and mighty about the situation. “High and mighty? You’re playing god, mom. You could actually kill someone. We JUST got tested, no results yet, and your husband has covid. the fuck are you doing?” She loses it, then my sister points out the hypocrisy of the situation. I, a 23 year old, refused to let the virus get a chance to spread by calling the studio when she, a 50-something year old POLICE OFFICER didn’t even tell me dad was infected before I went to work. 

That shut her up. 

But wait! 

Tensions are down but of course her stupid back the blue rhetoric is blasting all through dinner. My sister and I refuse to stand for it. She goes on a walk and then it’s over. For now.

Cut to a few hours later, where my aunt is on facebook, insulting my brother, saying stuff along the lines of “privilaged little white boy who sits behind a computer and posts anti-cop bullshit” and just keeps insulting him for basically no reason at all. 

Yes, my aunt is also a cop. Apparently, the precinct next to hers got burned down yesterday and for real? I don't want to lose my aunt. But she calls my mom bawling how me, my sister, and brother do nothing but attack her online. This doesn’t happen. I barely use that profile, my sister is barely on FB, and my brother calls her out on right-wing bullshit. 

Well, my mom tells me and my sister that we’ll be losing family, pretty much implying that she’s kicking us out. 

Honestly? Fine by me. I fucking hate it here. I can't deal with the lack of communication, back the blue rhetoric, and complete disregard for safety. Protect and serve my ass. 

My other aunt offered me and my sister to stay at her apt in San Fransisco while she’sin Seattle, we also have a family condo in New Mexico. Hopefully, we can get out of here. 

[sadlittlenerdking]

Patchwork Love

The Magicians

Word count: 2.8k

Summary: Apparently there’s a spell that can conjure things from memory. Which is all Quentin needs to create a Grand Romantic Gesture to convince Eliot he’s serious about Them. 

He’s not even sure it’ll work. But Kady mentioned it once, absentmindedly, from her place at the center of the couch in the physical kids cottage. And they’ve (once again) successfully stopped another disaster, and beat the library, and got magic back.

The only thing that’s not how it should be is entirely Quentin’s fault, and even if this doesn’t work, he has a back up plan. Because things are finally going to be perfect. They’re all going to live, no more monsters are coming to kill them or fuck shit up, and they’re going back to Fillory. For good. He just . . . needs to make something as abundantly clear as is possible, so nobody (read: Eliot) gets it into their thick skulls that what he’s asking for is less than what he wants.

He walks through the shops doors, flinching as he crashes through the curtain of stringed beads, and a loud bell chimes to announce his presence, loud and assuming in his ears.

“Ah! How can I help you?”

Quentin opens his eyes, then, tilting his shoulder up and swiping at the beads clinging to him, until they all fall and clash noisily behind him. “Uh—I,” He looks back at the beads, contemplating an escape, before turning back around. “I hear you, can. My fr—well, she’s not really a friend. I mean, kind of? We’re not close—“

“Sir?”

Quentin clears his throat. “Right. Sorry. I—I hear you can create things pulled from memory?”

The shopkeeper makes a face, before leaning forward conspiratorially, “And who did you say sent you here?”

“Kady? Orloff-Diaz?” He expects he’ll have to describe her, but the shopkeepers eyes brighten with recognition.

“Ah, yes. my favorite little hedge witch. Tell me, how is she? She’s not stopped by in a while. Though, I expect that has to do with the chaos surrounding magic.”

“I—she. It’s a long story? But she’s okay? Now?”

“Brilliant!” He motions over his shoulder, “Follow me, then. I’ll just have to ask a few questions and then we can—“

“There is, uh. One. Thing? I should mention.”

“What’s that?”

“The memory is… from a separate timeline? That didn’t happen, but also kind of did.”

“But it’s still clear?”

“As if I’d lived it in this lifetime, yeah.”

The shopkeeper grins, “Brilliant. That’s all we need. A clear image and moment from which to pull from.” He steps out from behind the counter, and holds a hand out for Quentin. “Come on my little lamb. To the slaughter we go!”

“What?”

“You’ll see. Memory stripping isn’t too much fun. Some women have likened it to child birth.”

“Oh.”

“Doubts?”

Quentin swallows thickly, because no. There aren’t any doubts. Not anymore. Not after six months as Brian, and four more with Eliot as a nameless creature inhabiting his body. Not after quests and deaths and mayhem. No more fucking doubts so long as …. his anxiety reddened mind allows him to go without. Which probably has a time limit of about five more minutes.

“No, but—"

“Best get started, understood. Come along.”

And then they disappear through the back and there’s really no going back from here, is there?

**

During the quest, he didn’t tell anyone, but he’d created a journal. A timestamp of every quest related moment that mattered, or had an affect.

The day they stepped through the clock, but also didn’t, is preceded and followed up by three empty pages. So Quentin can always find it easily enough, without bookmarking it with hearts and enchantments that basically screams at any onlookers (read: his nosy-ass friends) to HEY COME LOOK AT WHAT QUENTIN’S GOT UNDER HIS BED.

So, he knows what today is. Has known for weeks. Months, even. But the last couple weeks are all that matters. Because there’s a disconnect from their feelings and their actions, now. Whereas before, everything came easy. Or, as easy as things involving Eliot Waugh can possibly grow to become. But now, there’s an invisible wall built up. From Quentin being Brian and crying over Eliot’s (second) death upon getting his memories back, without knowing that Eliot had been very much alive, but hiding beneath the creature, watching everything around them unfold without any control. To that moment, just a few weeks ago.

Of the fire beneath Eliot’s eyes slowly fading to confusion, to Quentin being pulled into a world crushing hug, and all of their friends piling on top of them.

To Eliot looking at him like he wants to say something, but being just as frightened as Quentin for once in his life.

Because so much has happened.

But beneath all their trauma and pain and loss, they’ve still got feelings piling up high and wide for the entire world to see if they just take one look at either of them.

But Eliot sees rejection and regret, when he looks at Quentin. He knows it. Because every time Quentin’s taken the opportunity to mention his feelings, in the past or in recent weeks, Eliot politely reminds him that he’s passed the point of experimenting and having stress related romps in the darkest nights of war.

Eliot, as closed off as he can be sometimes, is looking for a fairytale. Or, as close to one as he can graze his fingertips up against.

And, in all honesty, after all that they’ve been through, Quentin’s on the same page.

He’s not in love with Alice, or bored, or desperate for a time killer.

He doesn’t want Eliot because it’s convenient. Because it’s not. It’s messy and consuming, and they keep finding ways to hurt each other. They keep fucking everything up. It’s mostly Quentin, but Eliot has his moments, too.

But it’s time for Quentin to take a stand. Because it’s always Eliot, watching and waiting and willing when the time comes. It’s always Eliot willing to take the plunge. To get hurt. But he’s been hurt enough. He’s suffered enough.

So, Quentin didn’t say anything. Until he remembers an offhanded comment Kady said once. About a stuffed bear she loved as a toddler that was stolen. About her mom, tapping her temple and saying, “ My Kady girl, you never have to worry about losing the things you love, so long as you have them up here .” Of the secret magic shop that spells items from memory into existence.

He looks down at the bag as he makes his way up the stairs of the cottage, still surprised the shopkeeper had managed to find it with all his digging. His head and body are still so, so sore. But today is the day preceded and followed by blank pages.

Today is the only day to Make A Point.

There are no girls with baskets of peaches and plums to distract him. Only a girl he once loved, who’s grown into herself, and has moved on. A house full of friends. No distractions. Nothing.

He can’t think of a place he’d rather be.

Which is why, when he reaches the top of the stairs, and stops in front of Eliot’s door, that he shakes his head, turns away, and heads for his own bedroom. He sets the bag on his bed, gently, and thinks, as loud as he can for Penny to appear.

He should know by now to specify, but it’s too late because new and old Penny are standing in his room, staring at him with matching looks of disappointment. “What?”

It’s eerie, how their voices echo when they speak at the same time.

He smiles guiltily up at them. “I was just wondering… if you could help me set something up.”

“ What ?” New Penny asks, just as Old Penny scoffs.

Quentin’s grin turns up three degrees. “I’m going to tell Eliot I love him.”

“Ten years later…”

New Penny shoots Old Penny a glare, and turns his attention back on Quentin. “You know I can’t do that for you, right?”

“No, no, no, yeah. i know. I just. Was hoping, you could convince him to step through the clock and go to Fillory? Maybe, make it seem like a group outing kind of thing?”

“You could just walk into his room and say ‘hey love you, let’s fuck,’” Old Penny says, raising his eyebrows, “It literally doesn’t need to be this difficult.”

New Penny scoffs this time. “Man,” He says, “Did you lose your sense of romance in the underworld or something?” He rolls his eyes and grabs Old Penny by the elbow before shooting Quentin a look. “We’ll get it handled.”

“No we w—“

“No more pining .”

Old Penny stops struggling, and levels Quentin with a look Quentin can’t quite comprehend. “He’ll be there in an hour.”

He just opts to take that as a win and grins.

**  

Not even forty five minutes later, Quentin hears the tale tell sign of someone walking through the woods, as leaves and twigs break beneath their feet. He straights out the blanket beneath him, and adjust the plates of food, swallowing anxiously, as the footsteps get closer.

“Hello? Look—not that I’m not into the cabin in the woods vibe, here, guys, I just—“ Eliot stops mid-sentence as he breaks through the trees and comes face to face with Quentin and the picnic. “Oh.” He doesn’t move. Even his hand stays planted on the side of the tree, where Quentin’s pretty sure the bark is digging into the palms of his hands painfully.

“I thought we could--“

“Where did you get that?”

Eliot still hasn’t moved. But his eyes are drawn to the ground in front of Quentin. And his voice is higher, slightly panicked or shocked, Quentin’s not sure.

But, he will admit that he’s starting to feel a bit panicked as his own eyes slide down to the blanket he’s sitting on. He clears his throat, and shrugs, before looking back up at Eliot. “I was hoping we—we could. Uh. Eat, and you’d notice it somewhere around the strawberries? And then I could give this—this speech. It’s not really a speech. I mean. It is but—“

“Q?”

“Right, sorry. I—“

“How—“

“I had a magician pull it from my memory and give it a form?”

Eliot’s eyes snap back up to Quentin’s, then. “What? Why?”

“Because I—uh. Wanted—Shit.” He shuffles up to his knees, panicking truly now, as the plates and drinks shake dangerously around him, until he can push onto his feet and stand up. He looks down at the slight state of chaos overtop the blanket. “See—you. You ruined it, you know?” He says, looking back up. “You were supposed to—to, just. Walk through and be like, ‘oh, what’s this?’ and I’d grab one of the cups,” He pauses, pointing shakily at the cup that had been by his foot just moments ago, “And I’d say, ‘Happy Anniversary, Eliot’ and you’d think on it, all confused like, what, but then you’d see the blanket. And then, you’d look up at me, then the cup, then the blanket—“

“And then I’d kiss you?”

Can a person's heart stop without it killing them? Can Quentin’s heart stop in his chest? Is that a thing that can happen?

Because if not, help, someone call an ambulance or something because he’s almost definitely dying.

“Q?”

He wills himself to look back up at Eliot, with the tiniest of nods. “Yeah, actually.”

“Like last time.”

“Yeah.”

“Last time, we—“

“We could have done better,” Quentin interrupts, taking a needy step closer. Just because they haven’t been as close lately as they were before, doesn’t mean he doesn’t long for the proof of Eliot’s existence, in either touches, or just the proof of life given by the warmth he emanates. “We—we can. We still have a chance, to. To do this right. We’re not in any danger—“

“Which is the only time you’re—“

“That’s not true. I just—I fucked up. A lot. But I’m not only interested when we’re in peril or something. I—I. I always want you around. And, I—I don’t know. Fuck,” He hisses, reaches up to run a hand through his hair in frustration, “I forgot my speech. You—you weren’t supposed to see it and then this gets all confrontational. It—it was going to be romantic and. And I was going to tell you I love you, in that really weird, all consuming, sometimes fucks up my spells because I’m too happy for them to work, kind of way. But I can’t even—“

“Q.”

“—do that right because I’m such a fucking disaster. And I just wanted to prove—“

“Q.”

“—to you that I’m in this for the long run, and that I’m not—“

“Q, you’re panicking.”

“—just looking for a quick, time killing problem solving fuck, or anything like that. I mean, obviously—“

“Quentin—“

“—I want to sleep with you again, because hello, but I—“

Eliot comes striding forward in four long steps until he grabs Quentin by his shoulders. “Q, you’re spiraling. Stop.”

“But I—“

“Stop.” He looks him in the eye, mimes taking a deep breath, which makes Quentin realize that he’d somehow said everything without taking any breaths in, so he follows the mime, until he’s not panting for air. Until they’re standing beneath the Fillorian trees, staring at each other. He’s not sure if it’s the exercise, or just because of how intoned they are with each other, but their chests are rising and falling at the same rate. Touching on the inhale, and separating on the exhale. Again and again.

Quentin keeps getting little glimpses of the feel of Eliot’s heartbeat.

“Are you good now?”

“Am I ever?”

“Are you going to faint?”

“No.”

“Good.” He half expects Eliot to pull away, but the concern in his eyes slowly fades, as the crinkles at the corners of his eyes appear until he’s staring down at Quentin like he knows something Quentin doesn’t—which is always dangerous.

“What?”

“You told me you love me.”

“What?” He furrows his brow, before sighing, because yeah, he had just blurted it out. “Shit—I—“

“Don’t apologize, Q.” He leans down, pressing his forehead to Quentins. “You got the blanket. From the night we kissed outside the house by the mosaic.” Quentin nods, his eyes fluttering shut. “You didn’t buy something similar, or go to a shop in Fillory and see if there were any. You went to a hedge witch parlor, and had it literally ripped out of your memory like it's some kind of mix tape CD from the early 2000’s.”

“A mixtape would have been a lot less painful.”

Eliot chuckles. “Physically, maybe. But mentally? The emotional harm? It wouldn’t be worth it.”

“Are—“

“For the record, I love you, too.”

Quentin opens his eyes then. “But you’ve been avoiding me. I thought—“

One of Eliot’s hands come up, his thumb grazing against Quentin’s cheekbone, while the palm of his hand wraps around his jawline. “I figured it’d be less traumatic.”

“What?”

“What the creature did to you…it was in my body. I figured the less you had to look at me, the easier it’d be.”

Quentin swallows thickly. “I mean,” He says, “I kind of never want to—to stop looking at you.”

“Oh?”

“No.”

Eliot grins down at him, and before Quentin even realizes what's happening, he finds himself pushed up against the same tree Eliot had held onto. And Quentin was right—the bark is sharp. But so are Eliot’s teeth, and they’re glinting in the sunlight as Eliot looks him over. “Then you don’t have to,” He says, leaning back in, until his nose presses against Quentin’s.

“Okay. That—that’s—“

“Do you want to keep talking, or do you want to make use of the blanket you so painfully collected?”

“I—I also—cooked…”

“I’m hungry,” Eliot nods, “But not for food.”

“That was—disgustingly cheesy.”

“Coming from you? The one who had his friends trick me into thinking there’s a big, creepy picnic in the woods. When instead it’s a poorly crafted love confession?”

“Ouch.”

Eliot chuckles, “I’m sorry,” He says, “But you really didn’t think it through, at all.”

“Do I ever?”

“….Fair enough.”

They stand quietly for a few moments, breathing each other in. Until Quentin, impatient and expectant, pulls back enough, just to say, “So… are you going to kiss me? Or?”

Eliot’s laughter is the last thing he hears before he feels his lips on his.

**

When they get back to the cottage, they wash the blanket, and fold it up, setting it alongside the back of the couch, so they can see it whenever they’re home, to remind them.

**

“I swear to god if that is the sex blanket on the couch that we all sit our happy asses on, I am actually going to murder you both. I don’t care if Eliot is my best friend! ”

It finds its new home on Quentin and Eliot’s shared bed.

[hamilton-one-shots]

Hamilton High School AU 22

Alexander popped the phone onto a charger and waited for the screen to light up. When it did, he saw that the lock screen was Lafayette and a few old friends in front of the Eiffel Tower. He looked happy. At least, he looked substantially happier than the last time Alexander saw him. He sighed and added Lafayette's new number before texting him. [Laf: hey, its alex. marta gavme ur old phon. can we tak l8r? its imprtnt.] Then he switched to texting John. [John: hey, marta gav me lafs old phon 4 now.]

Both were headed back to class after lunch, though Lafayette was more nervous to respond. [Yes, of course, but it will have to wait a while. I have drama and we're talking to John after that.]

[I'm glad to hear that. I missed you. : )]

Alexander opened his laptop to work on something for the debate society, cringing as Lafayette's text tone rang through. 'Salut! New message, Monsieur! Meow!' Even Lafayette now would be annoyed by it.  [Laf: it ok. I jus wana tak. Hav fun in drama :)] He hoped he sounded friendly enough. The last thing he wanted to do was panic Lafayette. [John: i talked 2 marta a lot. I feel beter 4 it. Oh! Also took my meds] [...do u thnk Tomas gets angry spels?] [no, ignor tat. It's dum. Jus thinkin 2 much. Bored @ hoem.]

Lafayette was the first to respond with a simple [Thank you, I'll see you then.]

[I'm glad you feel better! Can't have my love feeling too bad ❤] [I'm also proud of you for taking your meds 💗] It was mushy, but it was John. He was usually like that. At least he was with Alexander. When the second set of messages came through, he frowned a bit. [Jefferson's just a stupid bully. I've known that for a while now, you know.] [Don't let him get to you.]

Alexander sighed. He couldn't blame John for thinking that way after what he did to him. [sry, just didnt tink ne1 cud b tat much of n ass w/out reson]

[I see where you're coming from, but Jefferson isn't like you. He doesn't care.]

John had a point, but... It was worth a shot. He logged into Facebook and pulled up his messages with Jefferson. [dnt b men to laf in drama]

[Anything for you <3 xx]

[dnt do tat. im tryin to b sivil]

[You just wanted to message me, didn't you? ;) xx]

[no.]

[Why? Besides, I'm meant to be working, boo <3 xx]

[4get it] Alexander dropped back to his pillow with a huff, holding the phone to his chest. This wasn't going anywhere. [jus bored. Go bck 2 studyin]

[Yes sir <3 xx] Thomas chuckled and strode into class with Lafayette and Hercules, where Alexander usually joined them, and sat beside the pair. "Smile, Mulligan. You use less muscle."

"When you drop, I will." He shot back.

"Now, now, I've been given specific instructions to be nice to Laf. I plan on following them." Thomas grinned.

Lafayette shifted to be a bit closer to Herc. He didn't feel like starting a fight with Thomas that day and didn't want Hercules to feel he had to. "If you really wanted to be nice to me, you'd kindly fuck off." He smiled, speaking low enough so that the teacher wouldn't hear, but loud enough for Thomas to hear him clearly.

Thomas nodded. "As you wish." And he... actually left?

"What's up with that?" Hercules asked.

"I don't know.. Maybe we should just enjoy this while it lasts."

[Laf asked me to move and I did. That's being kind, right? 😉 xx]

[i gess... thnx?].

[Don't mention it. See? I can be nice 💗 xx]  [What am I going to get in return? Or do I move back to sitting next to them? xx]

Alexander froze, feeling his heart jump wildly in his chest. [wat do u meen...?]

[I mean xx] [Either we start 'getting along' if you catch my drift, I'll play nice. I'll be nice to Laf, I'll be nice to Herc; hell, I'll even be nice to your Johnny 💗 xx] [We've just got to spend some time together, that's all xx] [Or I can go find John now. He's probably in the library, right? xx]

[nO] [dnt do that] [pls] He panicked, typing back quickly, biting his lip.

[Then let's hang out. Sit with me in lunch tomorrow when you're back. Then come to mine after school. I'll even drive us. OR I'll get John. xx]

Poor Alexander whimpered in panic. This wasn't what he wanted. Not in the least. [ok] He looked back to his conversation with John. [John, u cnt come ovr 2day. im 2 sick.]

John furrowed his eyebrows and took a break from drawing. [What? Are you sure? I asked Martha earlier and she said it'd be fine if I went over and visited you...] [And Lafayette asked me to come over, probably to talk about what they know.]

Crap, that was right. Alexander almost forgot. [sry, just havn an episod. frekd out fr a sec] He curled up and whimpered. He was scared... And he needed John now more than ever, but he wasn't going to let Thomas come near him, not after what he'd done to him. He had to take care of this himself. He switched back to Facebook. [tomas, im not sure about this...]

[So you'd rather me go back to sitting next to him and start something? Ooh, I know, I could tell him how hot he looks in skinnies 😉 xx]

Alexander jumped up. [no dnt] [sorry jus] [pls dnt do nythin] [pls] [tomas?] [thomas] [anser] [o god] [dnt hve dne nything] [pls] [tomas!]

[Chill. Eacker was looking this way so I had to hide my phone xx] This was a lie. Thomas had waited a few minutes before responding purposefully to scare poor Alexander. [Good to hear you screaming my name tho xx]

[stop pls]

[How'd you manage to misspell my name when it's on the screen in front of you? 😜 xx]

[pannic]

[Aww... don't panic 💗 I'm gonna look after you, I promise xx] He looked over at Lafayette and Hercules and smiled.

Lafayette glared back at him. "I'm going to get to the bottom of this..."

"Please be carerful.." Hercules kissed his cheek.

After school, Lafayette took a chance and sat beside Thomas for drama. "Hello, Thomas."

Thomas raised an eyebrow at him. "Since when do you talk to me?"

"I just thought I could ask you for some advice. Do you have any tips for playing Veronica sawyer?"

This sparked his interest. "There's not much to it. She's a high school chick trying to fit in. Sort of a sassy girl next door."

"I see.." He nodded. "And I wanted to apologize for our prank last night. I remember how hard it was for John to have to raise his siblings."

"Forget about it. Lucy's a kid. These things happen." He pulled out his script. "So, are you okay with Dead Girl Walking? Because we're going to have to practice that scene at some point and I don't want it to be awkward when we do." As if he cared. He only had to be nice to Lafayette.

Laf couldn't help but shudder a bit ,though he was able to keep it to himself. "It's just acting. No harm done. I'm sure Herc won't mind."

Thomas nodded. "You're right. He shouldn't."

Before Lafayette could comment on what Jefferson was obviously trying to do, Eacker stumbled in, apologizing for being late once again before announcing their roles. Of course, Lafayette was Veronica Sawyer and Thomas Jefferson was Jason Dean.

"See? You know me. It won't be so bad."

Though, of course, it was the fact that Lafayette knew him that made it bad.

"What scene are you two talking about?" Eacker asked as he passed the pair.

"Dead Girl Walking. Just hoping it won't be too awkward."

Eacker smiled. "Well, nothing like breaking the ice."

Wait, what?

"We're all friends here. We were going to head on stage anyways to practice a few scenes. Why not this one?"

Oh, god, were they really doing this now? Lafayette stood up and took a deep breath before following everyone out to the auditorium. It's just acting.

Thomas was too busy texting to worry.

[i dnt like tis] [im scared] [pls dnt taek it owt on laf] [i jst dnt want 2 go hoem w/ u] [sorry sory sorry] [nything els, u got it] [jus dnt ruin drma 4 laf] [dnt go neer Jhon] [John*] [pls] [pls] [pls]

[No. We've got a deal, babe. I'll behave if you do as I say. Laf's acting now; y'sure you wanna go back on this nooooow? 😉 xx]

[nO] [pls] [leev hm aloen] [il b good] [its fien] [il go w/ yu] [srry]

[Good choice 💗 xx]

Alexander changed the password on the phone to some complicated pattern before putting it down on the bed... then beginning to tremble. He hopped up from the bed before practically sprinting across to Lafayette's room and launching himself at John. Poor Rosie barely had time to leap out of the way. She hissed disapprovingly as she knocked her paw before returning to her basket as Alexander buried his face in John's chest, shaking like a leaf. He kept his arms wrapped around John's waist in the same vice like fashion he had before when he was scared John would leave him.

John didn't ask any questions. He didn't have to ask what happened. He had a good feeling. He texted Jefferson to confirm his beliefs. [What did you do to Alex? Leave him alone. If you're doing this to hurt me, just come after me instead. If you're not, come after me anyways. Leave him out.]

Thomas chuckled. How cute. But he couldn't respond yet. He got on stage with Lafayette and watched him act as the song began.

"The demon queen of high school has decreed it. She says Monday, 8 am I will be deleted. They’ll hunt me down in Study Hall, stuff and mount me on the wall. Thirty hours to live. How shall I spend them? I don’t have to stay and die like cattle. I could change my name and drive up to Seattle. But I don’t own a motorbike. Wait, here’s an option that I like. Spend these thirty hours getting’ freaky! Yeah! I need it hard, I’m a dead girl walking! I’m in your yard, I’m a dead girl walking! Before they punch my clock, I’m snappin’ off your window lock. Got no time to knock, I’m a dead girl walking." As much as Lafayette dreaded the scene, he wasn't about to half ass it.

"V-veronica..? What are you doing in my room...?" It was... unclear if Thomas was acting or not. It was either excellent acting ability... or Lafayette had genuinely caught Thomas off guard and scared him half to death. Either way, it certainly fit the role.

"Shh!" Lafayette looked back at Thomas with a sultry expression, grabbing his shirt collar. "Sorry, but I really had to wake you. See, I’ve decided I must ride you ‘till I break you ‘cause Heather says I gotsta go. You’re my last meal on Death Row. Shut your mouth and lose them tighty whiteys! Come on! Tonight I’m yours! I’m your dead girl walking." He pushed him down to his knees, lost in the role. "Get on all fours, kiss this dead girl walking. Let’s go, you know the drill. I’m hot, and pissed and I'm on the pill. Bow down to the will of a dead girl walking." He kneeled down and held his face. "And you know, you know, you know, it’s cause you’re beautiful. You say you’re numb inside but I can’t agree. So the world’s not fair? Keep it locked out there. In here it’s beautiful! Let’s make this beautiful!"

"Shh!" Lafayette looked back at Thomas with a sultry expression, grabbing his shirt collar. "Sorry, but I really had to wake you. See, I’ve decided I must ride you ‘till I break you ‘cause Heather says I gotsta go. You’re my last meal on Death Row. Shut your mouth and lose them tighty whiteys! Come on! Tonight I’m yours! I’m your dead girl walking." He pushed him down to his knees, lost in the role.

Thomas felt his knees click as he dropped, but it was totally worth it. Lafayette looked an image of perfection and coupled with those lyrics... Thomas felt like he could take him there and then.

"Get on all fours, kiss this dead girl walking. Let’s go, you know the drill. I’m hot, and pissed and on the pill. Bow down to the will of a dead girl walking." He knelt down and held his face.

It took all of Thomas' restraint not to go back on his 'deal' with Alexander. Whether or not getting in Lafayette's pants was his focus, he was undeniably gorgeous.

"And you know, you know, you know, it’s cause you’re beautiful. You say you’re numb inside but I can’t agree. So the world’s not fair? Keep it locked out there. In here it’s beautiful! Let’s make this beautiful!"

"Th-that works for me!" He exasperated before yanking Lafayette into a kiss. It was rough and messy... but at least it fit the scene.

It was going to take the power of every god to wash that taste from Lafayette's mouth. It tasted like.. Like.. Jefferson. And he hated it. But he didn't act like it. He kissed back just as roughly because it wasn't Lafayette kissing Thomas, it was Veronica kissing JD. And it was too late to back out then, so he kissed back and continued the song afterwards. "Yeah! Full steam ahead! Take this dead girl walking!

"How'd you find my address?"

"Let’s break the bed! Rock this dead girl walking!"

"I think we tore my mattress!"

"No sleep tonight for you! Better chug that Mountain Dew!"

"Okay, okay.."

"Get your ass in gear! Make this whole town disappear!"

"Okay, Okay!"

"Slap me, pull my hair! Touch me there, there, and there!" Lafayette didn't know what was worse, the fact that Thomas' hands were all over him or the fact that he was the one guiding them. At least he got to slap him. "No more talking!"

"Woah!"

"Love this dead girl walking!"

"Woah, woah! Hey, hey! Yeah, yeah!"

"Love this dead girl walking!"

"Love this dead girl! Woah, woah! Hey, hey! Wait, wait!"

They finished out the song in sync. "Love this dead girl! Yeah, yeah, yeah!"

"Ouch!"

"YEAH!”

“YEAH!"

As soon as the song was over, Lafayette got off of Thomas and caught his breath, smiling at the class a bit. He knew they did amazing. And he hated it.

Thomas looked like a mess. His hair was sticking up all directions and his face was glowing crimson. Thomas was no virgin, but he hadn't expected Lafayette to carry out the scene so well, or convincingly. He pulled himself to his feet, joining the applause for Lafayette and himself before offering a hand to help pull Lafayette up from the floor.

"See? You're both fine. Nothing to worry about." Eacker chirped with praise. "It helps when it's a friend there, right?"

"Right." Thomas piped back before returning back to his seat with Lafayette. "...so do I owe you a cigarette or...?" He laughed lightly, attempting to tidy his hair.

Lafayette rolled his eyes, holding his arms that much closer against his chest.

When class drew to a close, Thomas put his script back into his rucksack and swung it over his shoulder. "You're a great actor, Laf. Really. I mean that. I'll catch you tomorrow.," he complimented before waving him off and leaving the room, finally texting John back. [/I've/ done nothing. I haven't seen him today. Besides, he's /your/ boyfriend. You fix him xxx]

As Lafayette followed behind him, surrounded by his classmates, he felt conflicted. He loved acting, but it felt wrong doing that scene with Jefferson.

When Lafayette came out of the classroom, surrounded by various other drama members full of praise and compliments, Hercules bit his lip. This was something Lafayette was 1. Obviously passionate about and 2. Very good at. Hercules's jealousy would have to step aside. Instead, he greeted Lafayette with a supportive smile, pretending he hadn't just seen that scene. "Hey you! Someone's popular!" He hummed. "John headed back to yours early to see Alex. Are you ready to go?"

He nodded and faked a smile. "Yes. Let's go." He kissed his cheek and walked home with him.

When John and Alexander heard the pair arriving, the latter froze up a bit. Not only did they have the talk to do, but he hadn't gotten around to apologizing to Lafayette and he believed him to still be mad.

They entered the room and mumbled a few greetings before sitting down, even Rosie leaving the room as she sensed the tense atmosphere.

John was the first to break the silence.

[mike-faist-is-the-best]

Gone (Connor)

Summary: You were always there for Connor, until he wasn’t there anymore

Warnings: Suicide mention

A/N: This was sad to write, but enjoy :)

masterlist

Connor Murphy. The only boy you met in seventh grade and became friends with immediately. It all started when the teacher announced partners and you and Connor got paired. You were new to school, so you didn’t understand why everybody picked on him. He was relatively nice to you, not that he spoke much. And he was smart. But then, you talked to another person in school and they told you that Connor was a freak. You kept talking to him and eventually he began to talk back to you. From then on, the two of were practically inseparable. In junior year, something happened. You started developing feelings for each other. But, it took a long time for either of you to admit it to each other. When you did though, it made everything so much easier.

“Hey, you ready for senior year?” You asked, smiling to your boyfriend and getting into his car.

“I guess.” He grumbled.

“What’s wrong? Is it your parents again?” You asked, concerned.

“It doesn’t matter.” He said and the drive was silent. This was a typical morning, where Connor spoke a maximum of ten words. But you wouldn’t stop talking.

“I heard Ms. Diaz got fired. That’s pretty interesting. I’m pretty sure it was because she was selling drugs to students.” You said, and Connor said nothing. You gave up trying to make small talk. the two of you walked into school when Jared Kleinman came up to the two of you.

“Hey Y/N, did you get hotter over the summer? And Connor, I’m loving the outfit, very school shooter chic.” He said, smiling, and you rolled your eyes.

“Fuck off Kleinman.” You said, and grabbed Connor’s hand to calm him down.

“It was a joke.” He said. “It supposed to be funny.”

“Oh, I know. I get it. I’m laughing. I am not laughing hard enough for you?” You started to push him away lightly, so he wouldn’t do something stupid.

“Connor, it’s okay. He’s just an asshole.” You said. 

“Here, we have first period together. Let’s go.” He started walking away quickly and you turned back to see Jared again. He winked at you and made a gesture with his hand to call him. You flipped him off and jogged to catch up with Connor.

After school, the ride from school was anything but silent. Connor was ranting about home paper he saw. 

“Maybe it wasn’t for you. You never know.” You said, re-reading the letter.

“I was the only other person in the computer lab. He could’ve waited till I left, but he printed right at that moment.” He said, his voice getting louder. 

“Connor, it’s alright-”

“No! Nothing’s alright! This is another stupid fucking year, and stupid fucking people!”

“Connor, listen. I’m here. I will always be here for you.” You said, and leaned over to give him a quick kiss. He pulled into your driveway, and you opened the door.

“Thanks, I love you.” You said, kissing him again, and exiting the car.

“Love you too.” He said, quietly, before driving away.

The next day, Connor didn’t show up for school. That wasn’t unusual, except for the fact that he usually told you when he wasn’t going to school. It was fine, but you were kinda lonely. And then during math class, you got a text from him.

Con:

Meet me outside of school

You raised your hand to use the bathroom and quickly walked to the front of school and saw him smoking a joint. 

“Where were you?” You asked, hugging him slightly. “You didn’t text, so I figured something happened.”

“I just, needed to think.” He said.“Care to share?” You asked.

“Not really, but why not.” He said, and the two of you took a seat on one of the benches. “It all started this morning. Fucking Zoe complaining about how I take too long in the bathroom but she takes fucking five hours! And then, my dad gets into this huge argument about how I don’t try to do anything!”

“That’s rough, but soon, we’ll be done with all of them, and we can move away together and forget about this town.” You said, and he smiled slightly.

“Here. I, uh, actually have something for you.” He handed you a folded up piece of paper. “But don’t read it until tomorrow, promise me.”

“I promise.” You said, and kissed him. The bell rang which brought you out of the trance. “Come on, let’s go to class.”

“Okay.”

That night, you were pacing around the folded piece of paper. What if you read it? What’s the worst that could happen? No. Connor told you to read it tomorrow. To pass time, you tried to think of what could be in the letter. Was it something sweet? Like a love letter? You smiled at the thought. Was it another one of his rants? No, it couldn’t be, whenever he wrote a rant, it would be at least three pages. What could it be? Soon enough, you fell asleep on the table.

Before school, Connor didn’t show up again. Maybe this was a new thing, you met up with him during math class and talked in private there. Your thoughts were caught short when your name was announced on the loudspeaker to go to the principals office. You walked there quickly, eager to know what was going on. In the office, you saw three people. Mr. Murphy, Mrs. Murphy, and a kid you’ve never seen before.

“Take a seat.” Mr. Murphy said, and you took a seat. You quickly looked at your watch and realized that you should probably open the letter Connor gave to you, but you were too confused as to why the Murphy's were here.

“If I may ask, what’s going on?” You questioned and Mr. Murphy sighed, while Mrs. Murphy almost started crying.

“This morning, Connor wasn’t at home. That’s normal, except that we noticed that the medicine cabinet was left open, and some pills were gone.” You didn’t like where this conversation was going. “And then, we found Connor unconscious at the park.”

“So he’s unconscious? When can I see him?” You asked, hoping that you could.

“Connor was dead, by the time they brought him to the hospital.” Your whole world came crashing down. It can’t be true. Connor wouldn’t leave you. 

“What?” You asked, and Mrs. Murphy started sobbing. You looked to the boy next to you, who just looked uncomfortable. 

“I know the two of you must have been really close with him. Evan, he had a note to you when we found him. And Y/N, you were the person who made him better,-”

“We thought you were fixing him!” Mrs. Murphy yelled, and you wiped at your eyes, but it would do no good.

“Cynthia, please.” Mr. Murphy said to his wife. And the boy, Evan, you were most confused by. Connor never mentioned him hanging out with Evan.

“I-I’m sorry, but, but what letter?” Evan spoke up for the first time.

“The letter that he meant to send to you. ‘Dear Evan Hansen, turns out today wasn’t such a god day’.” They read out the letter and you recognized it as the letter that Connor had taken from the printer. Why was is still in his pocket? Maybe he forgot to take it out and this is all one big misunderstanding.

“Look, Larry. His arm.” Mrs. Murphy said, and you looked over to see Connors name written in big letters on his cast.

“oh, oh it-its one big-”

“You were friends with him?”

“We-well, no-”

“Larry, Connor had friends, and we didn’t know.” Evan shut his mouth and you stormed out of the room to the bench where the two of you were yesterday. You tentatively pulled out the piece of paper and unfolded it.

Y/N,

I’m sorry. You deserve better than me. Please forget about me and live off your dream of moving away with somebody who deserves you.

Connor

You started sobbing. How could he think this way? If you opened the letter sooner, you could’ve saved him. 

“It’s all my fault.” You sobbed, putting hands over your face.

You stormed into school the next day and stormed over to Evan Hansen and Jared Kleinman, holding a piece of paper.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You snapped at the boys.

“Wh-what do you, uh, mean?” Evan asked, clearly intimidated.

“What do I mean? You starting this fucking Connor project, you didn’t even know him!” You yelled.

“Woah, calm down!” Jared said and you glared at him. “Look, we can fix this.”

“No, you can’t. You ruined his memory!” You yelled and stormed away.

That night, the Murphy’s invited you to dinner that night. You had been here many times, and this would be the first time that you would go into Connor’s room since his death. You slowly walked up the stairs and were greeted by Zoe, his younger sister.

“Y/N, hi.” She said, and you smiled softly.

“Hi, Zoe. I’m just-”

“no, I get it.” She said, and left. You walked up to the door and shut you eyes. Maybe if you went in there, Connor would be there, and you wouldn’t have to live without him. but, when you got in there, there was only the faint smell of weed and a messy room. There was one thing that stood out to you. On the wall, there was a picture of you. It was small, and Connor must have taken it on a date. You smiled and wiped away a few of the tears that managed to escape your eyes. You found one of his hoodies, an all black one that he wore on the first date.  You grabbed it and inhaled his scent. You felt a presence behind you and saw Mrs. Murphy.

“Mrs. Murphy! I am so-”

“It’s okay.” She said, and came to you. “This is my first time in here, after, uh, his passing.”

“I didn’t know about any of this. I thought he would tell me, but he never told me anything like it.” You said.

“He cared about you a lot. We noticed after the two of you started dating, he was better. And he was doing so much better, but then-” She broke down crying and you cried with her. Connor Murphy wasn’t the best person, but he was now gone, and people perceived him to be a better person than he was. 

“I was the only one there for him, and, and I thought I was fixing him too.” You said.

“But what about Evan?” She asked and you shook your head.

“Connor never talked to Evan. He never mentioned him either.” You said and she looked confused.

“But he showed us emails and proof of them being friends.” She said and you shook your head again.

“Connor never emailed Evan. He mostly texted and didn’t even know who Evan really was until he took that paper from the computer lab and talked to him for a minute, signed his cast, and left.” You explained and she looked devastated.

“I really thought he had someone that was connected with him.” She said.

“He had me. I can show you real pictures, real conversations and I will make sure that he is remembered properly.” You said, looking at her.

“You would do that?” She asked.

“Of course, because Connor meant the world to me.” And that was true.

[the-fairies-and-the-tigers]

Happy New Year (Stingue)

Pairings: Sting/Rogue Yukino/Minerva Rating: K+ A03

Sting has had an entire year to meet his new years resolution, but has been too chicken to do so. After having only less than half an hour, he's really doubting himself. Apparently accidental confessions bring courage.

Or the one where Minerva and Yukino are getting tired of the dragon slayer's blatantly obvious feelings for one another and decide to do something about it.

“Y’know, Yuki?” Slurred a very, very drunk Sting as he’d stumbled away from the rowdy dancefloor just before the countdown to the start of the new year began.

“What is it, Sting?” She asked curiously, her focus casually slipping from his sweaty face to the woman sitting at the other side of the room, an unamused look plastered to her face as she surveyed the partying Sabertooth members.

“Oi, pay attention to me fr’ a second, not Minerva,” he demanded, pointing an accusing finger at her,”

“Sorry,” she muttered guiltily, her cheeks feeling like they could go up in flames at any moment.

“Av’ decided that m’ resolution ths’ year’s gonna be to make my move,” he stated matter-of-factly, looking rather proud of himself in all his completely smashed glory. Yukino brightened at this news, it’d been something that Sting had shamefully, red in the face confessed to her some years ago; that he was completely and utterly head over heels in love with his best friend, Rogue Cheney. 

It was then that Yukino had intern told him that she may have the hots for Minerva Orland, and Sting had laughed at how painfully similar and frustrating their predicaments were. Although in her opinion, Yukino believed Sting’s to be much worse as the two dragon slayers had been best friends pretty much for as-long-as they could remember.

“10… 9… 8,” the countdown had begun, Sting lifted his beer can and brought it to the wine glass delicately held in Yukino’s right hand.

“Here’s to another lonely year,” he hollered, but before Yukino could say anything, she was caught by surprise by a pair of slender arms wrapping around her waist. Sting groaned, downing his drink as he watched Minerva spin Yukino around and press their lips together as the guild reached zero, and began cheering like maniacs.

“Guess it’s just me,” He said with a pout, before shaking his head and ginning, sauntering his way back into the crowd and letting loose once more, a major hang over inevitably looming over his head. He secretly knew, however, that and he’d wake up to aspirin and a glass of water, along with a raven-haired dragon slayer scolding him for being too careless the night before, and that ‘you’re so lucky to have a friend like me, Sting Eucliffe.’

A year later, Sting still hadn’t come to terms with his resolution.

“You’d better not go so overboard this year,” Warned Rogue as they walked side by side in the direction of the Sabertooth guild hall. The sun was sitting low on the horizon and the yearly New Year’s Eve party was about to start.

“Hey, it wasn’t that bad,” Sting mock whined, bumping Rogue’s shoulder with his own affectionately.

“Oh, I’m sorry my mistake. I only had to drag you out of the guild at two in the morning because you could barely stand up and then you began vomiting when we made it back to your apartment, not in the toilet or sink, but all over the floor might I add. Then you just burst into tears before I put you to bed!” Rogue ranted, causing Sting to roll his eyes and rest his hands behind his head lazily.

“You can’t blame me, I’m the life of the party,” He said cockily, causing Rogue to give him a light punch on his shoulder.

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“Oh, I will.”

“Dork.”

“Nerd.” They both burst into a fit of laughter, and Sting felt his heart swell for the mage before him, his shoulder length dark hair and crimson red eyes which were crinkled with laughter looking more beautiful than ever before.

Once the boys had entered the guild, they walked straight over to where Minerva was sitting at the bar, seemingly chatting up Yukino who was giggling and blushing at something she’d said from the other side of the counter.

“Hey ladies,” Sting announced, making their presence known as Rogue felt it was his turn to roll his eyes, unsurprisingly along with Minerva, and slip into the seat next to hers.

“Hey, Sting,” Yukino said brightly, already handing him his first alcoholic beverage of the night, and the party hadn’t even formally begun yet as Orga, along with a few other members of Sabertooth were still checking the lighting. “How’ve you boys been?” She asked, despite the fact that she’d only seen them merely the day before.

“We’ve been pretty good,” Rogue answered for them both, glancing at the blonde from the corner of his eye.

“I’m sure you have been,” Minerva said, lazily bouncing her leg up and down while sipping a fancy looking cocktail. “If Sting had anything to do with anything that is,” She snorted, causing Sting to give her a half-hearted glare and Rogue to glance at her in confusion.

Just over two hours later, Sting was obviously a little more than less than sober, and had dragged Yukino to the dance floor, after being blatantly rejected by Rogue who was sitting at a table just a way away from the dance floor with Minerva.

Sting and Yukino laughed with each other, Sting spinning her around to the fast pace of the music while she beamed, enjoying herself fully.

“They look like they’re enjoying themselves,” Minerva mused, a small smile playing on her dark painted lips. Rogue nodded in agreement; ever the silent type. The dark-haired woman glanced at him, noticing how his eyes followed Sting’s every move. She shook her head, sighing an overexaggerated sigh.

“You know, if you’re going to just stare at him like a little lost puppy, you should have accepted to dance with him in the first place,” She stated matter-of-factly.

Rogue scowled down into his lap at that, his cheeks rising in heat.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He grumbled.

“Of course you do, idiot. You’re in love with Sting and honestly I think you should just tell him and get it over and done with.”

“I do not like him like that!” He growled defensively, his cheeks growing redder. “Anyway, if I did, not that I do, he one, probably doesn’t even like guys like that, two, even if he did he’d never like me and three, he’s my best friend so it’d ruin everything.” He added grumpily.

“Oh, get over yourself,” Minerva said in exasperation. “You can’t deny it to me because I for one find you both blatantly obvious.”

Yukino and Sting were currently dancing to a much slower song. Around an hour had past and Sting had very much topped up on a bit more alcohol, although he was trying to be careful, for Rogue’s sake.

“It’s not fair, Yuki,” Sting groaned mournfully. “I made it a resolution and I was too chicken to do anything!”

“I mean, you’ve still got around just under half an hour left,” Yukino said, pitifully patting him on the back. Truth be told she felt a little guilty as she’d been with Minerva for exactly a year now, but Sting had yet to get with Rogue.

“I’ll never work up the courage,” he moaned, “He’s just never gonna like me the same way back.”

“You don’t know that,” Yukino said in her most reassuring voice, “honestly I think he likes you exactly the same way as you like him,”

“Man, he’s just so adorable and broody and beautiful and I just wanna hug him forever and ever.” He rambled on as Yukino shook her head.

“Hey, why don’t we go over and see him, you might pluck up the courage then,” she suggested, gently taking his hand and guiding him through the crowd. She hated seeing her friend like this, and honestly, she fully believed he deserved the same happiness she already had.

Meanwhile, Minerva had cracked Rogue with the help of a few drinks, and he was resting his head in his arms on the table, feeling very sorry for himself.

“Oh come on, stop being a wimp,” Minerva sighed, eyeing him from her seat.

“But I can’t. He’ll never like me back,” He whined, his voice muffled by his arms.

Yukino and Sting had just stopped a little way away from the table, and Minerva had locked eyes with Yukino, indicating for her to wait. She too had had enough.

“Rogue, how do you feel about Sting?”

“You know how I feel!” he groaned, unaware of the fact that that very person was standing in ear shot, flinching at the harshness of his best friend’s tone and bracing himself for rejection. “I hate his stupid face cause I just wanna touch it all the time, and I hate his stupid hair and his stupid everything because he’s so pretty. I just wanna hug him constantly and I want him to hug me back but he never will!”

“You may wanna rise your head,” Minerva finally said, when it was obvious Sting was just going to stand there, completely dumbfounded with wide eyes.

“What?” he asked, looking up at her with a pout, before noticing his best friend standing a few meters away, his eyes going wide with horror and his face flushing almost the same shade as his eyes.

“Sting, I didn’t mean-” he stuttered after sitting up rigid in his chair.

“Rogue-” Sting interrupted, cursing as the ten seconds until the new year count began.

“10… 9… 8…”

Before Rogue could get out of his chair and disappear into the crowd, Sting decided that there was only one thing he could do, as talking would be impossible over the noise. Quicker than he felt he’d ever moved before, Sting was beside Rogue’s chair hand had turned the boy’s face towards his own, lifting his chin up using the tip of one of his gloved fingers. He allowed a moment for Rogue to pull away if he wanted, but he never did. Sting noticed that Rogue’s eyes had so much more depth to them than he’s previously realised, there were flecks of both darker and much lighter reds, and they could only be described, in Sting’s opinion, as breath takingly beautiful. He then leaned down to press his lips to Rogue’s, just as the countdown reached zero.

Rogue’s lips soon began to respond, they were slightly chapped, a little more so than Sting’s, and he quickly brought his hand up to run it through Sting’s soft, blonde locks. The loud, obnoxious cheering of their guildmates celebrating the new year was nothing but background noise to them, as they just basked in the taste and closeness of each other.

Once they’d pulled away, Sting rested his forehead against Rogues, his hands grasping the sides of the shadow mage’s face.

“I suppose we’re just like Yukino and Minerva now, huh,” Sting chuckled blissfully, rubbing their noses together in an eskimo kiss.

“Hmm, I suppose we are,” Rogue replied with an affectionate smile, bringing his hands up to grasp the top of where Sting’s were resting.

Minerva and Yukino had since moved away, Yukino excitedly chattering away about future ‘double dates’ and what not.

“It’s gonna be so fun!” She beamed up at her girlfriend, causing Minerva to smile down, half lidded and full of fondness.

“You’re being far too adorable for me,” Minerva stated out of the blue, causing Yukino to blush and look shyly down at her feet. At that, the taller girl cupped the smaller’s face in her hands and leant down capture the familiar softness of her lips in her own, tasting the familiar taste that simply was Yukino.

On the way back to Sting’s apartment that night-Rogue had insisted Sting was too drunk to walk home alone-Sting refused to let Rogue go. He kept leaning down to nuzzle into the crook of the slightly smaller mage’s neck, until he was pushed away because ‘it’s hard to walk with you so close, you dork’. Their hands were intertwined and despite that they could see their breaths, they were warm in the company of one another.

Sting still vomited a few times when they got back, but this year it was in the toilet, and Rogue didn’t have to complain about cleaning up. This year, Sting knew that he’d wake up to aspirin and a glass of water, along with a raven-haired dragon slayer scolding him for being too careless the night before, and that ‘you’re so lucky to have a boyfriend like me, Sting Eucliffe.’

As you can probably tell, I was meant to post something like this on new years buuut that never happened. Man, I’m so bad with dates and crap, first Stingue week, not this. 

Sorry bout’ that, maybe I’ll be able to do at least something on time some time this year lmao.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed!