#the last panel is so cute. um anyway i would have read this but been annoyed by the characterization for sure | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

haloshornsinkstains · 4 years

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Convention Escapades [Leviathan x FemOC]

On AO3 here

Two dorks go to a Convention. There they encounter crowds, self doubt and con creeps and emerge victorious. Smut ensues.

Leviathan x Kore (my Obey Me! MC). NSFW (R18+) Warnings for: Female OC, self-esteem issues, PIV sex, woman on top, con creeps/mild sexual harassment, sex in cosplay (if you spot anything else I need to add a warning for let me know)

Kore studied her costume carefully in the mirror, tugging at the hemline of the skirt and carefully adjusting the painstakingly styled wig. It wasn’t perfect, the colours a little off in places and several accessories missing. But it had been the best she could do a short notice and with unexpected delays in Akuzon shipping. She’d really wanted to go as Henry, she really had, especially knowing that Levi had a Lord Of Shadows cosplay ready to go and knowing just how happy it would make him. But then Lucifer had piled a mountain of extra homework on her, eating into 90% of her precious little free time and she just hadn’t had the energy to do it. She could have maybe thrown together something passable last minute, even Levi had said as much, but she told him she wanted to do Henry justice and that would require time. She didn’t tell him that she wanted to do Henry justice because the thought of letting him down with an imperfect and rushed version of one of his favourite characters in the whole world was the worst. ‘Next time’ she’d promised him. ‘Next time I’ll do the best Henry you’ve ever seen. We’ll be unstoppable’. He’d blushed, adorably so, and nodded determinedly. She was still fussing over the outfit when she heard someone knocking at the door. “Kore? We’re going to be late for prime queue spots!” Sighing and chewing on her lower lip Kore went to open the door, preemptively wincing ready for him to pick apart the flaws in her cosplay. When there was no noise she warily looked at him. Somewhere beneath all the hair she could see a blush staining his cheeks red. “Is it… okay? I know the colours are off but it was the best I could do last minute after Lucifer dumped all that work on me. Maybe I should have gone for something simpler… cat girls are cool down here too right?” She paused, tilting her head a little to study him. “Um, Levi? Leviachan? Are you okay?” He huffs, giving his head a slight shake. He mutters something under his breath that she can’t quite catch. “We need to go, if we’re not there in time we might not get the limited edition convention special figurine. I can’t miss out on that because some human normie made me late, you understand right? We need to hurry.”

He didn’t realise until they were halfway to the convention that he’d grabbed her hand. He dropped it as if she were made of fire, cheeks burning and eyes wide. “I… um.. I…” He stumbled over his words, refusing to look at her. “Sorry, you wouldn’t want to touch…” She laughed, reaching out for him again. “I don’t mind, how else would I keep up?” Levi was still frozen, staring at her outstretched hand as she wiggled her fingers at him. After a few seconds of staring she reached out and tangled her fingers in his, ignoring his stuttered protests and offering him a bright smile. “Come on, we can’t be late. Not when there are limited edition figurines on the line!”

They got there in plenty of time, early even, but something still felt wrong. Levi would barely look at her, despite his excitement to be there, and it was starting to form a roiling black pit in her stomach. She’d let him down, she knew she had, she should have gone with Henry, even if it wasn’t a good Henry. She was an idiot for thinking one of the main characters from "My Cute New Roommate is Actually a God of Chaos and I Think She’s in Love With Me" would be anywhere near good enough, no matter how much they’d both enjoyed watching the show. She frowned, squeezing his hand a little. “I’m sorry Levi, I can go?” Her voice came out much quieter than she expected and she was lucky he even heard over the chatter of the crowd. Leviathan tensed, grip tightening more than he meant it to as he tugged her to look at him. “W-What? Why… Why would you leave? I-I thought you wanted to be here? Did… did you just come because you felt sorry for me? O-of course you did, who would actually want to spend time with some yucky otaku like me?” The spiral of self loathing came on fast, and it would just get worse she knew, both from her own experiences and from spending time with him. At home she could sit in the calm of his room, gently tell him all the reasons he was wrong, and if things got too bad his brothers were there. For damage control if nothing else. But here, here she didn’t think she had that time, so she did the one thing she knew would shut him up, she flung her arms around him in a tight hug, pressing her smaller body into the warmth of his. It worked. Levi flailed for a moment, startled and embarrassed and not sure what to do, before he gently tried to push her away. Gently enough that she knew he didn’t really want her to let go. If anyone in the line around them had anything to say about the sudden outburst of emotion they wisely kept quiet. “Y-you have to warn me before you do stuff like that. It’s not fair!” “Hush, you adorable idiot.” She grumbled into his chest, before reluctantly letting him go and taking his hand again. “I do want to be here. I’ve been excited about this for weeks. And I really am sorry I didn’t come dressed as Henry, I know you’re upset at me about it and…” she chewed on her lip for a second, gaze fixed firmly on their hands “and it seems like you don’t want me here. I don’t want to ruin your fun.” Levi gawped for a moment, shaking his head so violently he nearly dislodged his headpiece before pulling her back against him. “I wouldn’t have invited you if I didn’t want you here, idiot.” It was disarmingly genuine, no otaku slang or stammering or yoda speak, and that alone was enough to calm all of her frazzled nerves and let her relax against him. She was happy to leave it at that, to not push him about his silence, but he answered for her anyway. “You just, you look…” “It’s not super accurate I know, I’m sorry. Oh, hey, the line is moving! Time to get our figurines!” Whatever Levi was planning to say was lost in the excitement of limited edition Ruri-chan merch as they headed inside.

Inside Kore was happy to find it was much like any convention she’d been to in the human realm, there were official booths as well as an artists alley type area full of fan merch, special guests and so much amazing cosplay she was honestly a little overwhelmed. Levi was grinning in the way that was usually reserved for new long awaited game releases or rare exclusive merch finds. It was refreshing to see him outside, around people, and still so happy. But, she figured, these were his people. They weren’t going to judge him in the way he was afraid of, they were all here for the same thing. “Where did you want to go first? You’re the expert here after all.” Levi paused for a moment, he looked like he was thinking but Kore would have put money on him having a whole itinerary planned in his head. He opened his mouth a few times, beginning to say something before closing it again, his face flushing bright red. “Um, well, I want to see the Doki Doki☆Angel Gakuen panel, and the Devilmation one, and um, there’s a few booths I want to visit… but, but what do you want to do?” Kore grinned, her heart growing in her chest at the sheer earnestness of his desire to make her happy. Levi was a lot of things, not all of them good, but he really did try to do his best by her and the mere thought of it gave her all kinds of warm feelings inside. “As long as I get a good look at the stalls, and maybe a few of the, uh, manga booths I’ll be happy.” She paused, momentarily distracted by someone walking past with a truly spectacular cosplay of one of the armoured knights from ‘I’ve Been Sucked Into This Game as a Plot to Assassinate Me, but They Forgot I’m Top of the Server Leaderboards so I’m Having a Great Time’ “Maybe a few photos?” Levi nodded, chewing on his lip and hiding behind his hair the way he always did when he was nervous. After a few moments he announced “Do that I can” grabbing her hand again and tugging her off towards the ‘official’ stalls in search of rare Ruri-Chan merch. She followed happily, smiling softly at the way the normally quiet demon lit up with delight when surrounded by things he was passionate about. He talked excitedly with the booth owners in a way she'd never seen before. As he finally handed over his grimm, clutching the box to his chest in delight, he turned back to her. "Are you okay? You're quiet…" She smiled, cutting him off before he could try to be self depreciating. "I'm fine. I just don't think I've ever seen you so happy around so many people before. It's nice." He hid his face behind the box, shaking his head. "Come on, you need to buy stuff too!"

He pulled her along behind him, stopping at several booths along the way. To her surprise he stopped at a couple just for her. Eventually they exhausted the official stalls, taking a break and grabbing some food while they watched the Devilmation panel. Once it wrapped up, not without some grumbling from Levi about their choice of voice actor for the official adaptation of one of the manga he was reading, he gently took her hand again leading her in the direction of the fan-run stalls. "Oh wow, this is all so awesome. Hey Levi, look!" She pointed towards a stall dedicated towards some of her favourite otome games only to find he had let go of her hand. "I'll be right back, don't go anywhere." "But Levi I… and he's gone." She sighed, turning back to the stall she'd stopped at. Where did he even dash off to? We got the Ruri-chan merch he wanted… I'm so getting lost in here without him. After a few minutes deliberation she picked out a few pieces of fan merch from her favourite new otome 'My Seven Hot Housemates are Constantly Fighting With Each Other, I Think I'm in Love With All of Them and I Have No Idea What to do About it', a full sticker set and keyrings of her favourites- the shy nerd and the brash adorable idiot. She had wanted the full set, but Mammon had borrowed a chunk of Grimm from her a couple of weeks ago and hadn't paid her back yet. There was still stuff she wanted to buy so she had to be strict with her budget. Levi still hadn't come back so now seemed as good a time as any to get him a thank you gift. Slowly she moved along the stalls, making her way towards one she was pretty sure had Sucre Frenzy prints, when she heard a loud voice behind her. "Oh wow, are you cosplaying Nyar-chan?!" She paused, turning to glance at the voice behind her in mild surprise. "Can we get a picture?" For a moment Kore froze, blinking at them. It had been a very long time since anyone asked her for a photo in cosplay. Maybe it was a trap? But the pair holding a camera looked so happy and earnest, and besides there were plenty of people here… she nodded once, smiling at them. "Sure." That one yes seemed to be the start of a landslide. Suddenly so many people wanted her picture, more than a few just for the novelty of getting close to the human everyone was talking about while the brothers weren't by her side. It was overwhelming, and she barely managed to get the prints she wanted for Levi, her eyes constantly scanning the crowd for him.

"Hey there gorgeous, got time for one more picture?" She blinked up at the man, who towered over her. There was something ominous in his eyes she didn't like, but Levi was nowhere to be seen and kicking up a fuss at this point felt like it would do more harm than good. "Um, okay?" The demon grinned, his teeth looking far too sharp under the artificial lights. He gently rested an arm on her waist, ignoring her flinch as he did so. His friend took the picture and she went to move away but his grip tightened, claws digging into her hard enough to bruise. "I think I blinked, best take another right?" He looked to his friend, who nodded. Kore swallowed, holding still, eyes constantly flicking through the crowd for that familiar flash of purple. Then she felt his hand drop, no longer digging into her waist but instead dropping to cup her ass, fingers trying to dip beneath the hem of her skirt. She opened her mouth to protest when she sensed it, the dark oppressive pressure she remembered from the ill-fated TSL quiz. "Hands. Off. Her." The demon jumped away, hands in the air as he stared down a clearly irritated Avatar of Envy. "I wasn't doing nothing!" ' In which case you just admitted you were doing something ' she heard Satan's voice in her head at the double negative, chasing away the thought to quickly stride over to Levi, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Levi. Look at me. I'm okay." She soothed, squeezing gently. While his mood was warranted she knew this was a very bad place for him to lose control like that. "I promise, I'm okay. Come on, let's get some air." "But he…" "I know. We can be angry outside." She linked her hand with his, intertwining their fingers and giving him a gentle tug. "Come on." He followed with much less protest than she was expecting, letting her lead him through crowds of demons that swiftly parted, sensing the danger that still hung in the air around the third eldest of the brothers. It wasn’t long before they were outside, though she didn’t let go of his hand until she’d pulled him around to the side of the building away from any prying eyes or further interruptions. “Levi, breathe.” She cupped his face gently, pressing her forehead against his. “Thank you for rescuing me.” She couldn’t see anything but his eyes, though her skin picked up the flush of heat at her words. “I-I didn’t… it’s not like that…” He shook his head slightly. “I didn’t rescue you. Weird normie.” “Yeah, you did. I don’t think he’d have listened to me somehow.” She smiled. “My hero.” “I d-didn’t. I just didn’t want him touching you, not when you look so amazing. And I know I’m just a yucky otaku and he was all... handsome and stuff. But I wanted you to be mine today and I didn’t want him touching you and…” he huffed out a breath, the warmth of it tickling her nose “I’m not a hero. It’s not fair.” Kore just cradled his face in her hands, leaning up to press a soft kiss against his lips. “Whaaa… you’re supposed to warn me if you’re going to do that! I need time to prepare! I wasn’t ready!” “Sorry not sorry. I couldn’t resist. Now hush for a minute.” Her hands remained on his cheeks, forcing him to look at her. “You’re not a yucky otaku, you are, in fact, a very handsome and amazing otaku. Who just so happens to be one of the most powerful demons in the whole of Devildom, and the Grand Admiral of Hell’s Navy. Which makes you a badass. Not yucky. Not gross. Not any of the other bad stuff you say about yourself. Believe me, that dude was not handsome. He was gross. Not you. I think you’re pretty awesome.” “I’m…” “You’re awesome. Don’t argue with me. And… wait, did you say I look amazing.” “Y-yes?” “Okay. I’m going to kiss you again.” This time he didn’t protest, tentatively kissing her back as he pressed her up against the wall. She whimpered into the kiss, one hand tangling in the hair at the back of his head as he grew more confident, his free hand trailing down to gently stroke the exposed skin between her skirt and the long socks she wore. Panting she pulled back, resting her forehead against his as she tried to pull air into her lungs. “Was… was that okay?” There was a tremor of nervousness in his voice that made Kore want to kiss him again just to make him realise how great he was. “It was better than okay. Is this why you’ve been weird with me all day?” He wouldn’t look her in the eyes but she felt the slight movement of his head as he nodded, fingers still tracing the exposed patch of skin on her thigh. “Okay…” She paused, not sure where to go with this, there was still plenty they both wanted to do inside the convention, but the way he kissed her and his fingers trailing across her skin made her want to do all kinds of other things. “Okay. We’re going to finish up inside, and I’m going to stay by your side whether you like it or not. Then we’re going home to finish this.” A whine bubbled up in Levi’s throat and she leant up to press her lips against his, silencing him with a promise. “You know you’d be upset if you missed the panels, I’ll still be around when this is over.” “But my brothers… I know you like them more…” Kore huffed, pressing a hand against his mouth. “I don’t. Leviathan, listen to me. I like you. I like your brothers. Remember that talk we had about sharing? I know it’s harder for you, I know you get jealous, but you have to trust me.” She sighed. “Please?” Swallowing Levi nodded, letting her lead him back inside just in time for the Doki Doki☆Angel Gakuen panel.

The rest of the day went in a blur, the panel was funny and informative, they picked up a few more bits of merch, and thankfully no more pushy demons tried to feel her up. Probably thanks to Levi being near glued to her side, his hand hovering near her waist. He at least enjoyed his panel, and got photos with his favourite voice actress prompting Kore to grin at him and point out what a good idea staying at the convention was really. After all, they had plenty of time later. On the way home she bought him Bufo Egg Milk Tea and promised she'd make up for all the waiting.

Luckily the tea was long drunk by the time they walked through the doors of the House of Lamentation, Levi dragging her straight to his room with barely a hello to Lucifer who had been waiting in the entrance hall for them to return. Only when they got to his room did his newfound confidence falter, his hands hovering over her but not seeming to dare make contact. With a huff she grabbed his shirt, pressing her lips hard against his. "I can't make it up to you if you won't touch me Leviachan. And I want you to touch me." She purred, pressing herself up against him. “A-are… are you sure?” "I wouldn't be in this position if I wasn't." She paused, pulling back a little to look him in the eyes. “Do you want this? You can say no you know.” For a moment Levi looked panicked and she felt terrible, as much as she wanted him (and she really wanted him right now) she had never wanted to push him into anything. It was just with the way he behaved before she thought… But the panic fades from his face as his fingers come into contact with her sides, running gently up and down the soft fabric. He nods once, chewing nervously on his lower lip. “I… I want you.” Kore smiles, pressing up against him once more to capture his lips. This time his hands grip onto her hips, pulling her so he can grind against her. She moans at the contact, fingers clenched in his top, and it finally gives him the burst of confidence he needs to take control. One hand moves up to grope at her chest, a low growl rumbling through his throat as he finds the layers of fabric hinder his touch. He tugs until the fabric moves low enough to uncover her breasts, ignoring what he thinks was a tearing sound as his fingers ghost over the skin, finding where her nipples have hardened against his touch. He's not a virgin, like so many seem to think, but it has been a long time, and these aren't just any breasts. They're Kore's breasts. Small and soft and so perfect his breath catches in his throat and he could swear his heart skips a beat. She makes a low meaning noise in her throat as he rolls one of the stiff peaks between his fingers. He could come from those sounds alone, he thinks dipping his head to flick his tongue over the other, he needs to hear more. Her back arches, pressing her breasts towards him as she fumbles with a hand to try and palm him through his trousers. "Ah- fuck Levi! That… ah, it feels so good." His hips buck against her hand and she takes it as a sign to try and slide her hand inside, fingers wrapping around his length and stroking gently. Levi lifts his head abruptly to stare at her, expression flickering between shock, embarrassment and pure need. "I-if you do t-that I won't be able to- to hold back." The corner of Kore's lips lifts in a hungry smirk. "That was the plan. Please Levi? I need you." "But you, you're not…" She pulls her hand away and he whines, watching with wide eyes as she pulls his hand from her breast and pushes it up her skirt, pressing his fingers into the damp fabric. He slips a finger past her underwear, sliding through the slick coating her folds before pulling his hand away and staring at it in amazement. "Please? I want you." He nods in response, not trusting his voice to work enough to form words. She moved to take off her skirt but he shakes his head, earning him a raised eyebrow and a look tinged with concern. "I- um, leave it on? Please?" "Kinky." She grins, but leaves the skirt and socks in place, hooking her thumbs through the waistband of her underwear and tugging them down.

Levi tugs them towards the bathtub that serves as his bed, kicking off his trousers as he goes. He falls back into the soft pillows, tugging her down on top of him, her legs straddling his hips. His confidence grows now he knows this is happening, that she wants him like this and it wasn't all just desperate fantasies. “Are you sure?” Her voice was slightly strained, but she hovered above him watching his face. Levi thrust his hips up against her, his cock sliding through the wetness between her legs. “I need you to say it.” “Yes.” It came out as more of a whimper than he intended, but when she lowered herself onto his cock he really couldn’t bring himself to care. His fingers gripped into her thighs, leaving dents in the plush skin that would surely bruise later as she started to move. His body reacted almost on instinct, thrusting up into her warm wet heat. She moaned, back arching as she rolled her hips in time with his thrusts. “Ah, yes Levi. You feel so good.” He growled, thrusting harder into her until she was reduced to a mess of whimpers and moans. “Ah, fuck.” He groaned, tilting his head back. “I- I won’t last much-” She moaned in response, sliding a hand between her legs, flipping her skirt up so he could watch as she rubbed slow circles over her swollen clit. Levi groaned, feeling her walls start to clench around him. “Th-that’s not helping.” Kore laughed, broken and thready. “I don’t know, fuck , I’d say it’s helping. Ah fu- it feels so good.” Levi’s head was tilted back, breath coming in gasps as she started to lose rhythm, her hips stuttering allowing him to set the pace. He could feel the ripple of muscle around him as she got close, her walls clenching and unclenching a few times before they started to tighten. “O-oh, I’m close. Fuck, Levi, ah... ” Her body started to tremble, words lost in a half-coherent moan as she unravelled on top of him. He fucked her through her orgasm, not sure if he would even be able to pull out with the way she’d clamped down around him. As the last waves passed and her body started to slump he lifted her, pulling out just in time to splatter her thighs with his release, her name a low moan in his mouth. She fell forwards, bracing her weight on her arms against the sides of the tub as the room descended into quiet save the sounds of their ragged panting. “I, uh, might need to borrow some clothes.” She chuckled, looking down at the sticky mess on her costume. Levi went bright red, covering his face with his arms, shyness rushing back. “S-sorry! I didn’t mean to!” She grinned. “You did, and that’s fine. That was hot.” He peeked up at her between his fingers. “R-really?” “Mhm.” Shifting gingerly in the small space she pulled off her ruined skirt and socks, tossing them out of the tub onto the floor. “Later.” Slowly she lowered herself next to him, nuzzling her face into his chest and pulling his arm to wrap around her.

#my writing #smut #leviathan #female oc #obey me #halo.writes #halo.afterdark

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softmatcha · 4 years

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a cosmetic shop misunderstanding

eijirou kirishima x reader (cosmetic store! au)

warnings: swearing

genre: fluff

word count: 2k

a/n: ngl the idea for this story was much better in my head,, anyway!! this is my first story sO ... thank u for reading !!

“Thank you, Miss! We hope to see you again soon!” your voice rings out, as you flash a customary professional smile at the customer striding out of the shop. Unfortunately, your “Retail Sales Assistant” job has so far successfully proven to be as mundane a job you thought it would have been when you applied for it, but the location of the cosmetic shop you work part-time at is only a stone’s throw away from your apartment. Importantly, the paycheck that comes in every month has really helped to take a load off your tuition debt.

You glance at the clock hanging by the cashier. The second-hand crawls at a mockingly slow pace. It would be another hour until you could finally hurry home to the comfort of your bed. The crowd has been gradually thinning as night slowly creeps in. The large glass panel at the front of the shop gives you a good view of the streets, and you can see everyone in this bustling city rushing to their next destination. There is really nothing much left to be done in the shop now that customers are sparse, but you decide to make yourself useful by tidying up the shelves near you. Immersed in arranging the colours of the lipstick on the shelf, you fail to realise someone standing next to you.

“Excuse me!” a voice barks out from behind you, in fact, too loudly. You jump a little in surprise, and the lipsticks in your hands fall right out of your grip.

Before you can react, the owner of the voice swiftly catches them just before they land on the ground.

“I’m so sorry!” he exclaims. Looking flustered, he passes the lipstick back to you.

“It’s okay, that was a good catch though! Do you need any help?” you say, placing the lipsticks back on the shelf as you looked up to face him.

Oh my god, he’s actually kinda cute, you think as your eyes meet his brilliant red ones. He smiles at you sheepishly.

“Well, I want to get a present for someone, but I didn’t know which one to choose...” he answers. “I mean look, I picked these, but they all look the same to me!” he groans, stretching his hands out to show you the colours he has been holding in his hands.

You glance at the few colours he chose, and stifle a laugh. “Well, I’m not too sure which one the person you are getting the gift for likes. But just to be safe, let’s not choose this colour, yeah?” you respond, pointing at the bright magenta lipstick in his hand.

He furrows his brows in confusion. “But that’s the one Barbie uses..” he mumbles, but nods his head and places it back on the shelf.

Okay, he is adorable.

“Well this one,” you point to another colour on the shelf, “is really popular now and it’s nearly impossible to go wrong with this colour!”

“Really?” he chirps, eyes lighting up. He peers at it for a moment in deep thought and continues, “Yeah, I’ll take this then!”

“Sure! Is there anything else you want to get?“ you ask.

He shakes his head as you lead him to the cashier.

“Hey, thank you for helping me! I’m sure she’ll love it!” he says, as he stands across from you at the cash register.

She? Right, he’s probably getting it for his girlfriend...

Your heart drops a little. You should have known.

“Thank you for coming! We hope to see you again soon!” you chirp with feign enthusiasm as you pass him his item. You hope your smile successfully hid your disappointment.

“Well, I hope to see you again soon too,” he mutters.

“Sorry did you say anything?” You lean in, raising your eyebrows.

“It’s nothing! Thank you!” he flashes a quick smile and makes a beeline for the exit.

You don’t expect to see him a week later, but is that’s exactly what happens. Working your usual evening shift, you peer out of the large glass window of the shop again (it was a good way to pass time) to see the masses of individuals hurrying home for the night. You feel - rather, hear - your stomach grumbling and your legs aching. You took an extra shift this morning for an absent co-worker, and your body is simply exhausted from standing nearly the entire day. Suddenly, your eyes meet that of the red-haired man from the week before - the cute one who bought the lipstick for his girlfriend. You don’t remember most of the customers you have served, but his bright smile and brilliant red hair had indeed left an impression on you. He seems relieved or maybe delighted to see you, and he swiftly makes his way towards you.

“Welcome back! How can I help you today?” you grin as he approaches you.

“You still remember me?” he marvels. His eyes open a little wider.

“Yeah! Your red hair wasn’t really that easy to forget!” You chortle. And neither were your eyes or your cute smile or your adorable laughter- ok. you really need to get a grip.

“Really?” he says. A light red tinge slowly creeps up his cheeks. “Oh! Um... Well, I- I need to get...” His eyes dart around the shop. “Moscuro! Yes!” he exclaims.

You chuckle, “I think you mean … Mascara?”

He gazes at you bewildered, and his eyes shift back to the sign on the other side of the store. He squints a little.

“Yes, mascara! That’s what I meant!” He says as you let out a small laugh, leading him towards it.

“Hey…” he glances at your employee tag, “y/n, right? Is it okay if I call you that?” He asks.

“Of course!” you pipe out, beaming at him.

“You can call me Kirishima!” he says, as he flashes his confident toothy smile at you. “And I think I’ll get this!” He grabs an item off the shelf. Or rather, he blindly grabs an item off the shelf. A few moments later, both of you are at the cash register again.

“And here’s your item Kirishima! Thank you!” You smile at him as you hand his item over the cashier counter.

“Hey y/n, I was wondering if ... you know.. I could get your number?” he speaks with a little uncertainty.

Your heart soars. holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. he’s asking for my number.

He smiles at you with the silliest smile on his face.

This can’t be happening.

Doesn’t he have a girlfriend? And this whole time you thought he was a decent guy. Flirting with other girls behind her back? What an asshole.

“I’m sorry Kirishima, but employees are not allowed to give our phone numbers to customers.“ You respond tactfully as you tried to hide your scowl.

“Ah…” His lips press into a thin line, the shine in his eyes disappears. Nonetheless, he seemingly regains his composure quickly and gives a tiny smile.

“It’s okay then!” he laughs it off, “Thank you anyway!”

———

It’s been a while since you’ve seen Kirishima around, which is a huge relief. Two weeks ago, your heart would have nearly leapt out of your mouth if you saw him, but right now you are content with his absence. The last thing you want is to be involved in a drama with him and his girlfriend.

Your co-worker elbows you gently, knocking you out of your trance.

“Psst y/n, see that guy standing outside? He’s hot, right? He actually dropped by a few times last week.“ Your co-worker whispers, nudging your gaze to his direction.

You look around puzzled, before your gaze lands on a familiar redhead.

“You don’t mean Kirishima, do you? The red-haired one? He came by a few times last week?” you question.

“Kirishima? That’s his name? Yes, the red-haired one! He’s cute, isn’t he?” your co-worker replies excitedly. She continues in a hushed voice, “You weren’t there when he came, but you should have seen how disappointed he looked every time he left! I wonder what he’s looking for!”

Or rather… who. You force a smile and quickly make an excuse to leave as you hurry to a corner of the store before Kirishima could spot you. You don’t really want to engage in a conversation with him right now. Sure he is cute, but that definitely beside the point. And him coming back again? You have this gut feeling that it was for you.

“Hey y/n!” A boisterous voice calls out to you.

oh fuck.

You turn around and plaster the most professional smile you could on your face. “Do you need help with anything today?” you robotically respond.

“Yeah! I’m thinking of getting a.. a new lipstick!” he says.

“Alright-”

He interrupts, “Actually you know what? I know you can’t give me your number, but can I at least take you out to dinner?”

You take a deep breath. Unbelievable. This two-timing brat actually has the audacity to ask you out.

“Kirishima, you have a girlfriend. You can’t do this when I’m sure she loves you with all her heart and the last thing you should be doing is cheating on her. You can’t just go up to someone else and ask for her number and ask her out even if you’re cute! It-It’s wrong!” you burst out in exasperation.

Fuck. I should have thought this through.

Both of you look at each other for a solid five seconds. Suddenly, he lets out a laugh. He laughs so hard he clutches his stomach and puts his hand up in a “wait” motion as he convulses in laughter.

You glare daggers at him and wait for his laughter to die out. After he calms down, he takes a deep breath, looks you in the eye and announces, “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

You look at him with a baffled expression. “What do you mean? Weren’t all the items you bought these few weeks for your girlfriend?” You wave your hands around agitatedly.

He directs his gaze at you and cracks up again.

“Well, the last I remember, my mom isn’t my girlfriend.” he pauses, his face distorting a little at the idea of having any other relationship with his mother. He continues, “The first time I came really was to get her a present, but I guess the other times … were just to see you!”

Oh.

oh.

You are quite sure his hair colour pales in comparison to the red flooding your face. Your ears heat up. You don’t possible think you could look him in the eye now. This definitely made your list of “Top 10 Most Embarrassing Moments Ever”. Your mind is entirely blank - a big white canvas. You think about the headache you woke up with this morning. You should have just called in sick today. Maybe you should just pretend you were joking? That you were pulling his leg?

“I see. ” you blurt out.

Really? I see? That’s all I could say? You internally slap yourself in the face.

“-you for dinner later, right?” Kirishima winks at you and smiles. He eyes twinkle and he looks at you expectantly.

That was smooth.

Dumbfounded, you nod your head excitedly.

“Okay! Great! I’ll just wait for you outside then!” he says, before turning to walk out of the shop. Suddenly, he swivels sharply and turns around, waving his hands at you and with the biggest grin on his face, he shouts, “Oh and y/n? I think you’re cute too!”

Your face burns in embarrassment as you watch him continue his path out of the shop. You should apologise for the misunderstanding. And you will, when you see him for dinner later.

#eijirou kirishima #kirishima x reader #kirishima x y/n #kirishima fluff #eijirou kirishima imagine #bnha kirishima #bhna #bnha imagines #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha scenarios #mha imagines #mha scenarios #reader insert #red riot #kirishima eijirou #bnha au

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hazelandglasz · 5 years

Note

AU klaine prompt inspired by the video with the window washer playing with the cat where blaine is the window washer and kurt is the cat's owner?

The aforementioned video

On AO3

Window washing was the Anderson family business. His father did it, and then, when his back didn’t allow him to climb and wash the windows himself, he started training Cooper and Blaine to follow in his footsteps.

Cooper loved the job, but he always ended up having to go back because he left traces on the windows.

Blaine, well… It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy doing it, the physicality of it, the work-out it represents, and the happiness he brings to some of his clients.

But he could definitely do without the small percentage of clients who are insufferable.

Luckily, today is a light day, mentally.

Today is Tuesday, which means that he has to clean the Plaza building. Not a lot of offices, which he prefers, and large window panels without convoluted stone carvings to clean around.

Blaine slides down from the roof and starts cleaning the window when a small black kitten appears in his line of sight.

“Hello,” he coos, applying the soap and giggling when the kitten follows the motion of his brush with his little head. Blaine is truly delighted when the kitten trots up to him when he moves to the next window on his right, the feline walking with his tail swishing from side to side.

Once the window is clean, Blaine decides that he can spare a couple of moments to play with the kitten.

He is so focused on his reactions that he misses the appearance of two socked feet behind him.

The music notes do get his attention, though, and he looks up to find a man giggling his head off as he films Blaine and his cat.

Blaine grins at him and waves, only for the kitten to bat his hand through the glass.

The man laughs harder but looks up from his screen, waving back at Blaine.

The cat seems very interested in his owner and moves away from the window, visibly meowing to be picked up.

Blaine shrugs and waves again, this time to signal his departure, before sliding down to the next floor.

That was a very nice moment.

And that man was very, very, very handsome.

---

From that day on, it becomes a sort of tradition.

Every other Tuesday, Blaine gets to meet the black kitten (who visibly grows as the weeks go by), while his owner records their encounters.

As cute and funny as the cat is, Blaine doesn’t really know if he looks forward to those Tuesdays for the animal or for his human.

They don’t speak to each other, per se, but he feels like they are having whole conversations through their eyes and gestures.

It’s been two months since Blaine met the black cat and his owner, and he still doesn’t know their names, and it’s bothering him more than he cares to admit.

So he prepared a sheet, saying, “Hi, I’m Blaine,” in the hope that it will prompt his Mystery Man to reply.

But first, entertain the Mystery Cat while doing his job.

The moment two human feet appear, Blaine reaches into his breast pocket to unfold the paper.

The man turns off the phone and comes to sit next to his cat to read it.

It’s a good thing Blaine is firmly attached with his harness, otherwise he doesn’t know how well he would be able to maintain his balance, because…

Wow.

The man looked handsome, cute even, from afar, but up close…

W. O. W.

Look at those eyes.

The man smiles as he reads Blaine’s introduction, before pointing at himself and waving his fingers in the hair.

A vertical line; two short diagonales; then a curvy one…

Oh!

Okay, Blaine can do this.

K.U.R.T.

He says it aloud. “Kurt?”

Mystery Man nods and beams at him.

“Nice to meet you.”

Kurt waves between them while nodding. Blaine interprets it as “Likewise”.

He then points at the cat, and Kurt wrinkles his nose.

It’s adorable.

And then, Kurt lights up, holding up a finger, pointing at his socks.

“Socks?”

Kurt shakes his head, twisting his upper body to show Blaine the brand.

(Blaine is absolutely not distracted from said brand by the sight of Kurt’s backside, presented to him in the same motion.)

“Ah! McQueen?”

A vigorous nod.

Blaine makes an approving gesture before tapping the glass with all of his fingers to respond to the aforementioned cat who was busy batting the window, demanding his dose of attention.

Kurt smiles at the two of them before returning his focus to Blaine, who tries really hard to fight his blush under such scrutiny.

Kurt opens and closes his mouth several times, visibly growing frustrated with each aborted attempt.

Meanwhile, Blaine moves on to finish cleaning Kurt’s windows. When he’s done, he lowers himself until his face is at ground level for the apartment and its residents, waving goodbye and planning his next move.

The next fortnight, Blaine has another piece of paper ready for Kurt.

“Here is my phone number.”

Kurt’s smile is blinding as he rushes to take his phone and save the number, rapidly typing a message as he goes.

Blaine can feel his phone vibrating in his chest pocket, but he never takes his phone out while suspended mid-air. He makes a gesture he hopes Kurt will understand to say “later”, before cooing at McQueen who is sticking his face against the glass.

When he’s back on the ground, Blaine takes his phone out and reads Kurt’s message.

“HI! I’m so glad I can finally tell you how much you’ve brightened my days with your kindness for my cat.

I hope to see you many times, but would it be possible to do so without a barrier between us?

Have a nice day and stay safe,

Kurt”

Blaine presses his forehead against his phone (and wipes it against his t-shirt because his forehead is quite sweaty after all) before typing his answer, looking up even if it’s useless once it’s sent.

“I would love that. Tomorrow is my day off, so, you tell me?

And just so you know, cleaning your windows has been the highlight of my weeks ever since I met… McQueen.”

Yes, he’s playing coy. So sue him.

Kurt’s response is immediate. “Starlight Dinner. For lunch. My treat?”

And, not even fifteen seconds later, “I’ll make sure to let him know how much you enjoy your dates.”

Oh, okay. Two can play that game.

---

“What’s the big occasion?”

Cooper lets himself into Blaine’s apartment and drops himself onto Blaine’s couch, looking at his little brother getting dressed.

And there must be an occasion behind that outfit—Blaine knows how to highlight his assets, he learned from the best after all.

“I have a date.”

Cooper straightens up, and Blaine can’t help but smile proudly at the idea of the upcoming date. “With the cute cat guy?”

“I told you his name is Kurt.”

“Right, right.” Cooper comes to stand with Blaine in front of the mirror, handing him a different belt to tie the outfit. “And you really want it to go well?”

“Duh.”

“You know what you need to do then.”

Blaine glares in their reflection. “I am not going to serenade him with a poppy lovesong in a public space.”

“Ah?”

“Not on the first date.”

“Attaboy.”

---

Naturally, Blaine gets to the restaurant early—far too early, if he’s being honest, but he was so worried of being late, and so anxious to escape Cooper’s ridiculous advice, that he left and walked to the place—but it gives him the time he needs to compose himself and let the odd ambiance of the restaurant soothe his nerves.

And then, someone enters the restaurant and makes a beeline for Blaine’s table.

Someone Blaine has been eager to see and meet and hear, wearing the most perfect sweater Blaine could ever imagine.

“Hi,” Kurt simply says, and his voice is even more perfect than the one Blaine imagined.

“Hi.”

Kurt sits down and crosses his arms over the table, slightly leaning over it to get closer to Blaine. “I almost can’t believe this is happening,” he tells Blaine, in a tone of confidence.

“Me neither,” Blaine confesses. “I had to check and recheck your text. My brother even pinched me to guarantee I wasn’t having a very detailed daydream.”

“Oh, I hope he didn’t hurt you.”

Blaine shrugs. “Anyway, here we are.”

“Here we are.”

Silence thickens between them until they both laugh, awkward all over.

“This would be easier if your matchmaker pet was here.”

“Wouldn’t it be, though?”

“A black cat named McQueen, that is quite the statement.”

Kurt smiles at Blaine, before launching into a story of how the cat got his name.

(Long story short, when Kurt first fostered him, the black kitten would always find his way to Kurt’s beloved McQueen scarves to nestle in them, and the name stuck.)

The ice definitely breaks when Blaine pushes his side of fries toward Kurt while they eat and Kurt covers Blaine’s hand with his before devouring half of the fries, in the most inelegant way possible.

Blaine finds it absolutely irresistible.

And he tells Kurt so, while Kurt has his cheeks stuffed with fries like a chipmunk.

“You’re adorable.”

Kurt freezes, before gulping as his cheeks turn bright pink. “Oh. Really?”

Blaine leans his head on his hand. “Really.”

Kurt looks away before returning his hand on top of Blaine and squeezing it. “I, um. Me too.”

“You, too, think you are adorable?”

Kurt shakes his head. “No, you jerk, I think you’re adorable too.”

“Kind of sending mixed signals, here.”

“Oh, okay. I take it back. You’re not adorable.”

“No?”

“No,” Kurt says, his smile belying his tone. “You’re insufferable. I hate you.”

“Right.”

Kurt brings Blaine’s hand closer to him, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles. “But,” he continues, a darkness appearing in his eyes, “my cat loves you, so that must mean something about your character.”

“Oh, bless McQueen’s judgment call, then.”

“Indeed.”

Blaine nods, swiping the last fries for himself with his fork. “Didn’t mean to be a jerk.”

“Didn’t mean to call you a jerk.”

Blaine smiles. “This should make for an interesting second date.”

“Second date?”

“My turn to invite you.”

“Right.” Kurt cocks his head to the side. “A bit cocky of you, though, to assume there will be a second date.”

“I don’t assume,” Blaine replies. “All I know is that I would love to see you again, and not on my regular Tuesday.”

Kurt smiles, all bravado melting away. “I would love that too.”

“Then it’s a date.”

“It’s a date.”

“And I have to meet McQueen in person sometime in the future.”

Kurt laughs at that. “I’m pretty sure he will be beside himself to finally meet his favorite human.”

“Oh, second favorite, surely.”

Kurt smirks. “Surely, yeah.”

Two years later, when they get married and McQueen is the ringbearer, they are still debating who is his favorite human.

(The response is clearly a tie, but McQueen prefers to let them wonder.)

#Anonymous #sometimes i write #klaine au #cooper anderson is a good (wing)man #fluff

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choccos-aaart · 4 years

Text

Antag interview!

>>BASE<<

Feat. the five major antagonists of the story of April and friends: Mr Skatra, Dr Sarlife Aufel, Wyra, Eyn, and Farqua

*NOTE: Definitely got spoilers for the story I’m writing, if you’re interested :P*

**NOTE: I better’ve not written anything wrong here...**

Greetings, and welcome to the "Villians Interview Meme". Whether you like it or not, you've been brought here to answer some questions about yourself. This is a recording, pausing and starting controlled by your author, so you cannot attack me. If you begin to fight with one another, you WILL be sedated/strait-jacketed. Alright now, let's start.

Would you show the viewers a shred of kindness by allowing us to know your name(s)?

Skatra: Oh…? I’m first? Alright, then… Hello, my name is Abarran. ...Known by most as Mr Skatra.

Doc: Evening! I’m Sarlife. Others call me Doc. And, I am not sharing my surname. Who’s next?

Wyra: It’s me. Hi, hello, my name’s Wyra. I’m Sarlife’s action partner. I keep a look out for her, too.

Eyn: I’m Eyn, and I’m Abarran’s kid.

Farqua: Suppose they left the best for last, huh! Hi! The name’s Farqua Pells!

Are you male or female?

Skatra: I’m male.

Doc: I don’t conform. Next,

Wyra: I am female!

Eyn: Usually people get me all wrong, but I’m a girl. Don’t blame ‘em though…

Farqua: And I’m a man, haha!

How old are you in human years?

Skatra: Forty-nine. Almost fifty... *sigh*

Doc: I’ve existed for 77 years, but my AI depicts me as, I dunno, somewhere in my 30s? 40s? Either way, I’m a working adult.

Farqua: So ya let us know your age but y’ain’t givin’ off your last name? For real?

Doc: It’s embarrassing. Wyra, it’s your turn.

Wyra: My AI depicts me as about the same as Doc! But I could be younger. I was built in year X701 which was about 65 years ago.

Eyn: I’m 16. Well, at least I’m programmed to be 16. I was actually built six years ago. What about you, Farqua? Gonna bet you’re like programmed to be 10, haha.

Farqua: Shut up. Uhh, I’m in my 30s... In my programmin’, of course. Almost reachin’ my 50 years milestone in real time, though!

What exactly are you?

Skatra: Excuse me… what? If you’re asking whether I’m human or not, I’m human.

Doc; Yeah, a pathetic one.

Skatra: Would you shut up?! …By the way, the rest of them are androids.

Doc: You really had to answer for us, didn’t you?

Skatra: It saves time.

Do you have any powers?

Skatra: No… Doctor?

Doc: Well, a lot of medical tools can be transformed out of my arm. And I’ve built myself a little machine that can automatically mix different medicines and whatnot.

Wyra: Well, I’ve learned to use my power source abilities for things that aren’t just powering things. Something I can do is produce power from both my star-panels and my natural gas source, which I think is cool.

Eyn: Alright. Uh… My arm’s literally a toolbox. No, literally, it can like, shoot a bunch of tools out of it. Well, those tools really are just these cool things that unfold from these tiny boxes. Weird science stuff I don’t wanna explain. Also, my arm used to be for weapons n’ stuff. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention I was originally built to commit some revenge robbery or something, so I’m packed with a whole bunch of stealth n’ robbery stuff like, y’know. Too lazy to list it all down, though…

Farqua: Damnit Eyn, now you’re makin’ me feel pathetic!

Eyn: Well, boo-hoo.

Farqua: So, uhh… ‘s just my arm can transform into just a whole buncha garden n’ landscapin’ tools. That’s it, really.

Skatra: If it makes you happy, that’s every slasher film writer’s dream.

Farqua: Well, ain’t that nice!

Who is your archrival, and what do you hate about them? Do they have powers?

Skatra: It’s you, Doctor, Wyra, and all your affiliates!

Wyra: Yeah, whatever.

Doc: Ah yes, I greatly apologise for ruining your life to KEEP THE PEOPLE I CARE ABOUT SAFE!

Farqua: Well Doc, y’ain’t gonna deny that almost everyone hates your way of doin’ it, are ya? And April fights for ‘em, too.

Doc: YOU DON’T NEED TO BE INVOLVED, FARQUA!

Farqua: Shiieeeet… Calm ya farm. ...Wait, that doesn’t work in my accent.

Skatra: And also, that blasted April! I hate that child! She has and is still playing a big part of tearing my life to pieces, as if it wasn’t unbearable enough!

Farqua: Goddamn! Now everyone’s bein’ real overdramatic!

Eyn: So, uh, April’s pretty much my rival, too. And we always keep running into each other. It’s almost like some stupid rival logic you see in comics and TV and stuff.

Farqua: Ha! Imagine havin’ that happen to ya? Haha!

Eyn: … And who’s your rival, Farqua? Aren’t you just the henchman-turned-hostage?

Farqua: Shut up.

Eyn: Thought so.

Farqua: But as hostage I kept bickerin’ with Matro. Does that count?

Eyn: That’s fair. …Wait. I forgot to mention, April doesn’t really have powers. When we thought we were gonna be friends when we met the first time, I sorta turned her old stick into a weapon. Yeah. Things really backfired on me.

Do you rule over any sort of land, country, county?

Skatra: I could never rule something like that…

Doc: Oh no; I’ve got no knowledge or interest in being a ruler. I’m just a doctor.

Wyra: I can’t either, since I once accidentally caused a power outage in my old city!

Doc: And though the answer’s pretty obvious already, what about you, Eyn? Do you rule a population of some sort?

Eyn: Nah. It doesn’t even seem cool.

Farqua: Me neither. Huh! Weird that none of us are that typa antagonist?

Skatra: Now that you say it… I agree.

Why are you considered "the bad guy"?

Skatra: Well… I’ll admit, my goal is to take probably the most important thing that the building’s got, and yes, many robots were taken advantage of in the process.

Doc: And people were hurt. And you’ve committed murder before – oho, blood’s on your hands.

Skatra: DOCTOR! I thought our therapy session was meant to be confidential!

Doc: Oops, my bad.

Skatra: And it looks like we’ve got a reason why Doctor’s a part of this interview. Any more you want to say about yourself?

Doc: Ah… Uh… I forced a lot of innocents into getting involved and even fight in this mess of a situation. And yes, without their consent. Or their families’ consent. And by doing that, their lives were all at stake. Yeah, I regret it. Fly me to skuelk.

Wyra: I’m Doc’s action partner and out of the two of us, I think I’ve actively hurt April the most. And April’s still a little kid! That’s definitely given me a bad look!

Eyn: Eh, I just help Dad with stuff. And it really looks like I don’t care much about hurting people. That’s it, really. And I guess I also run into April the most, and a lot of the story’s from her perspective, so I guess I’m really put under a bad light.

Farqua: Same story! I’m one of Skatra’s guys! Except I’M THE ONLY ONE THAT GOT CAPTURED BY APRIL N’ FRIENDS AND IT’S SO FUCKIN’ EMBARRASSIN’.

Do you consider yourself purely evil?

Skatra: No! Who would?!

Wyra: Not me! I’ve just been called sadistic!

Doc: Let’s be completely real. Nobody really considers themselves evil. All of us just want to do what we feel like is right.

Eyn: Yeah, I don’t think I’m doing anything evil. I guess it’s sometimes I’m not knowing the difference between not giving a shit what everyone thinks about me versus doing what everyone agrees is morally wrong.

Farqua: Whoa! Ya got a lot of wisdom for a kid!

Skatra: And where do you think she got that from, hm?

Farqua: Stop lyin’ to yourself, she ain’t your biological daughter.

Skatra: Shut up.

What do you think of the others in the quiz room?

Skatra: Well first off, Eyn’s my daughter, the only family member I’m happy talking to, and I love her a lot. Doctor’s a bit… I don’t know. From my experience, they’ve been a very caring and genuine person at first. Wyra’s a bit of an oddball. I still think she’s a bit scary to approach. Those two are definitely people you wouldn’t want as an enemy, but then again, here I am. And that leaves Farqua, who’s probably just as competent as he is annoying. What about you, Doctor?

Farqua: WHA-

Doc: Ehrm, thanks for acknowledging that about me. Anyways, as much as I hate what you’re doing, Abarran, and mind me, I’m being as honest as I can, you’re just someone who needs help. It honestly hurts to watch you and what you’re doing. Wyra is a close friend of mine! We’re completely different, but it’s as if she completely understands me. And Farqua, you’re… You’re alright, I guess. Also, I’ve been hoping for you to just stop trying to be my “rival” ever since you read that aphorism, “an apple a day keeps the doctor away.” And Eyn, I can tell you’re hiding behind a façade; just reveal that you dress and act the way you do because you’re a fan of the Axel Duiti series. To me, you’re as easy to read as a children’s book.

Eyn: Hey! I mean… Never mind. Uh… My dad’s like the only guy that’s got my back. He’s cool. Dr Sarlife’s like, I dunno, a bit scary to talk to. Also, what’s up with the bunny ears?

Doc: That’s none of your… Alright, to tell you the truth, I worked at a children’s hospital. Let’s not get off topic, now. What are your thoughts on Wyra and Farqua?

Eyn: Oh. Uh… Wyra’s so hyper, it’s exhausting. But, I think we can get along? I dunno… I hope we do. And Farqua’s pretty cool. We get along pretty well. But cut off the “howdy” unless you’re gonna say that to everyone. That’s all.

Wyra: From what I know so far, I know I get along with Sarlife the best! Skatra’s, I dunno. All I know about him is through what Sarlife told me, and I think he’s a bit of a prick that could do with some fixing up. Maybe. I think Eyn’s cool! I think I’ve seen the Axel Duiti series on telly before, and I think that’s a good way to start talking! And now, Farqua. Um… Definitely a bit weird. But I find that endearing!

Farqua: That’s… That’s it? ‘Right, guess it’s my turn, then! First off, Doc, Wyra n’ Skatra, you’re all assholes for doin’ all the stuff you’re doin’ and for all the stuff ya said ‘bout me. And Eyn, you can still look like a badass and be open ‘bout all your apparently “less cool” self. Look at me? I look all cute n’ cuddly n’ sweet, but I’m pretty open ‘bout my reckless n’ aggressive nature n’ stuff, ya get?

Eyn: Wow… Didn’t expect a pep-talk but okay, I’ll take that.

Farqua: No prob, kiddo!

On a rate of one to ten, how powerful do you think the villain next to you is?

Skatra: Oh God, I hate rating like this. Uh… Doctor’s probably a 7.

Doc: …That’s fair; I’ll take it. I was going to say 7 for you. Wyra’s close to an 8.

Wyra: No offence Sarlife, but I reckon you’re a 6, for me.

Doc: None taken.

Wyra: Eyn’s a 9 for me. I’ve seen her with April and it’s not pretty.

Eyn: Wyra’s probably a, I dunno, 7…? Farqua’s 1.

Farqua: WHAT?!

Eyn: But with your limbs, you’re, I dunno, 8. You’re pretty strong and got a bunch of tools and stuff.

Farqua: Well, Eyn, I’m givin’ you an 8! Remember, this’s all ‘bout perspective.

Now, how powerful do you consider yourself to be?

Skatra: 4… 5…? I can’t get over it.

Doc: 6 or a 7. I don’t think I can give myself anything else after that last question.

Wyra: Tough. Probably 7? Or 8.

Eyn: 8.

Farqua: God, some of y’all don’t think that high of yourselves, huh! I’m givin’ myself a 9!

Do you have an evil laugh?

Skatra: No, that’s stupid.

Doc: Can we all agree on this and move on?

Eyn: Yeah.

Wyra: Done and done!

Farqua: You guys are borin’ as hell y’know. I sorta do have one actually! But I guess tha’s ‘cause Matro keeps tellin’ me I’m just mean-spirited. And sadistic too, but it ain’t like that!

Do ya fear death?

Skatra: Er… I’ll pass on this one…

Doc: Alright. No, I don’t, honestly.

Wyra: I agree! I don’t really care. I’ve kind of experienced it, before.

Eyn: Well, I do. I’ve still got things I wanna get outta the way and I don’t wanna miss ‘em.

Farqua: Do I fear death? Well, I guess I do! I’ve seen it countless times ‘cause I’ve been to every burial held at the buildin’ and I see everybody all heartbroken n’ stuff. Makes me worry, y’know, ‘bout all the people who care ‘bout me n’ all.

Docc: Well, to be fair, we do all have the choice to live for as long as we want, as long as we’re not seriously damaged to the point beyond repair. Well, except for Abarran, here. He’s human and we’re all bound to outlive him.

Skatra: That’s not very nice.

What's your goal, exactly? Or are you just evil for the heck of it?

Skatra: It’s quite basic, really. So, to put it simply, nearly fifty years of hard work’s gone down the drain. And to make up for all of it, I felt the need to do something big. So, my goal is to take the proclo machine and reveal it to the world as something of mine. Yes, I know I’ll be living a lie, but I just want to make an impact of some sort that’ll change the world, whether it be for the better or for the worse, and once the whole world hates me, I’ll just end it all there.

Doc: Alright… Well, I just want to keep this building, you know, ALIVE. I care about everyone and everything that has to do with this building, and I’ll do anything if it means this building lives on. And that’s it! I mean it literally!

Wyra: Everything I know about this situation is through Sarlife, really. She told me everything, and when I say “anything,” I mean it. I care about this building, a lot, too! ...Eyn? What about you? Let me guess: you just want to make your dad proud of you, right?

Eyn: That’s one of them. But also, there was this one guy that commissioned me, he gave me a mission, and I failed it. Big time. Then I got left on the shelf for years, he commissioned another robot n’ stuff, and once that was done, I was sold somewhere to do some more stuff that I didn’t do so well at either, and then I was sold again. I didn’t really feel like I had anything good to do in this world, so that sucked. And then Dad picked me up from the markets and now I’m making sure I don’t fail at anything, anymore.

Farqua: … This is awkward… I ain’t got much of a motive… I just, I dunno, work for the guy- I mean Skatra…

Doc: THAT’S BECAUSE HE MANAGED TO TAKE CONTROL OF YOUR GOAL SYSTEM, YOU ABSOLUTE BUFFOON!!

Farqua: Goddamn! Ya gotta calm down! And I thought I was aggressive!

Do you have henchmen/a henchman?

Skatra: A lot of robots, yes, I do.

Doc: ROBOTS WHO WERE MY FRIENDS THAT YOU TOOK ADVANTAGE OF, THAT’S WHO!

Wyra: They were my friends, too, you know!

Skatra: You know, you’ll both eventually end up working for me, sooner or later.

Doc: I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.

Wyra: We’ve gathered a lot of the non-robotic inhabitants of the building, anyway, to help get rid of you! And Eyn, too!

Skatra: Ooh, I’m soo scared.

Eyn: … Okay so, I work with my dad, so all those robots- I mean Dr Sarlife and Wyra’s friends are sorta my henchmen, too. Wow, that makes me sound really villainous, haha…

Farqua: So! It’s my turn, now, ain’t it? WELL, JOKES ON Y’ALL, I AM A HENCHMAN!

What do you drive?

Skatra: My little car, with a trailer attached. How do you think I got to the building?

Doc: I drive a scooter. It’s very easy to get around which is great!

Wyra: I’m not very good at driving. But, I have had a go on the hover bikes which are fun!

Eyn: I sorta know how to drive Dad’s car, but I know the anatomy n’ whatnot better than I can drive.

Farqua: Goddamnit, EYN can drive, too?! Well…! Matro said he’d teach me to drive the train later on.

Doc: What?

Wyra: You and Matro are all buddy-buddy, now?

Farqua: Sorta!

Doc: Well…. That’s surprising…

Wyra: Since when?

Farqua: Huh. You’re getting’ a little jealous now I’m spedin’ a lot of my time with your ol’ pal, ain’t ya?

What do you do when you aren't trying to do whatever you're trying to achieve?

Skatra: What do I do… Well, aside from moping in my apartment all day, I like to build machines and do some arthropod photography.

Doc: For me, you’d find me obviously doing my work. During my breaks, I take walks all around the building, and occasionally, I’d draw over my papers. I’m not a very skilled artist, though…

Wyra: I like to watch some telly! And just travel around the building while I’m not doing my work, of course!

Eyn: So, as Dr Sarlife said, you probably already know I’m a huge fan of the Axel Duiti series, so I re-watch the show, re-read the comics, and all that stuff. I also like playing bass guitar and helping Dad with building and stuff. That’s it, really.

Farqua: First off, I’m a gardener and a landscaper, so catch me up on the rooftop gardens doin’ my thing. When I ain’t doin’ all that, you’ll find me in the library reading some books about, I dunno, random stuff.

Were you ever a double-crosser (pretended to be on the opposite team, then stabbed them in the back)?

Skatra: Well, I—

Doc: THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT YOU DID TO ME!

Skatra: Doctor, there is no need to yell! Good God!

Doc: You can’t deny that it’s true, though. For me, I would never do that.

Wyra: Never done it! If anything, I like being honest.

Eyn: Well, I’ve tried doing that. It didn’t go very well… Farqua, your turn.

Farqua: Oh yeah. Mine’s damn interestin’, alright. ‘Cause if April and friends DIDN’T get to me first, I woulda done exactly that!

Skatra: I’m pretty sure I heard them say they thought you were up to something beforehand, so…

Farqua: Wh… How do you even hear this stuff?

Skatra: Your point of view was connected to my computers, why?

Farqua: …OKAY. I FORGOT. SORRY.

On a scale of 1 to 10, how often do you lie? *gives them truth serum*

Skatra: Oh God… 8

Doc: 3. Lying isn’t that big a thing for both robots and doctors, and then there’s me.

Wyra: 4. Like I said, I like to be truthful. Just saying.

Eyn: 5. I’m pretty honest.

Farqua: 6-ish.

Skatra: … You’re joking! I lie the most out of all of us?

Farqua: Well, y’gotta face it. You’re the only human here.

What color is your: hair?

Skatra: Dark green. ...For some reason.

Doc: It’s some sort of brown.

Wyra: A bit reddish-brown. Think of Sarlife’s favourite pants.

Doc: ...

Eyn: I wish I had hair…

Farqua: Ain’t that also why you wear a hat?

Eyn: I guess…

Farqua: Anyways, I ain’t got no hair too, ‘cause my design’s just like that, y’know! Gotta admit, I still pull off a cute look, huh!

Eyes?

Skatra: Dark, dark brown.

Doc: My irises are generally jet black and my sclerae are white. When I’m under the influence of an energy chip, my sclerae turn a blueish colour.

Farqua: “SCELRAE, SCELRAE,” look, ya don’t gotta go all textbook talk mode on us.

Doc: ...You could’ve at least been a little bit nicer...

Eyn: Uh… My eyes are black. Dad says I’m not allowed to have effect chips yet, so my whites are always white.

Farqua: For most of the story, I’m not on anything so you’d see my eyes are just like Eyn’s. But a lot of the time, when I’m not working, you’d catch the white bits of my eyes turned bright yellow! Forgot which chip it was but I set up a whole stash months ago!

Wyra: Um… I’ve got no irises!

Skin?

Skatra: Some sort of darkish beige.

Doc: I don’t really have skin, but I’m painted grey.

Wyra: Also painted grey.

Eyn: My paints are a bit weird. A lot of my body’s green, some areas are painted cream, my forearms and below the knees are painted brown, and my face is grey. Sorry if it’s a lot.

Farqua: I’m painted mostly red with some super light yellow in some places. I’ve got some small bits that’re this dark purply brown, too. And my upper arms, whatcha call it, are—

Doc: Your brac-

Farqua: WOULD YA— Doc, don’t do that. …Anyways, my whatchamacallits ain’t really painted at all.

Whats your uniform/favorite outfit?

Skatra: Since it’s winter, I’ve been wearing my favourite turtleneck at lot, recently. I like to pair it with my long coat.

Doc: My only outfit is my doctors’ uniform. It’d be kind of strange to see me wear anything else.

Wyra: I’ve got my work uniform. That’s it, really.

Eyn: Right now, I’m wearing an outfit based off Axel Duiti. He’s an outlaw in the old Earthian west.

Farqua: I AIN’T WEARIN’ NO CLOTHES, HAHA! And that’s ‘cause my designers made sure I was too good for ‘em.

Have you ever gone mad?

Skatra: Mad…? As in angry or…

Doc: I think they mean gone totally mental. As in you’ve lost your mind.

Skatra: Oh. Yes, I did. When, I’m not going to mention any names here, an ex-friend of mine put my years-worth of effort down the drain back in… X761, I think? What about you, Doctor?

Doc: Ah, I remember that one time… That one time Eyn nearly got me to fall under your control... And then, after that, you took all the little nurses and doctors that worked with me as prisoners... Hm, and it was a threat, too! All so I wouldn’t publicise your dastardly plan!

Skatra: Good God, you didn’t need to go into that much detail!

Doc: Anywho, what about you, Wyra? Anything similar?

Wyra: I don’t recall, really. Eyn?

Eyn: Nope.

Doc: Really? Even after everything that’s happened to you?

Eyn: Nope. And I hope it doesn’t happen to me. That’d be embarrassing.

Farqua: I ain’t had that happen to me, either! Guess that’s just a side effect of being old, huh!

Wyra: Haha!

Skatra: Excuse me?!

Doc: Farqua, you, Wyra and I were ALL programmed to behave the same age– WHAT MAKES YOU THINK YOU CAN SAY THAT TO ME?!

Farqua: Well, just like I said to Matro, “Stress. It ages ya.”

Doc: It doesn’t. …Alright, it does! But that doesn’t mean you can say what you just said!

Wyra: Wait... I’m stressed...?

If so, did you enjoy it?

Skatra: No! Of course, not!

Doc: If anyone had half a brain, even they’d know not to enjoy something like that!

Skatra: You don’t even have an organic brain and you, too, know not to enjoy something like that.

Doc: … Your daughter is right here.

Skatra: OH MY GOD, I’m so sorry!

Eyn: It’s okay, Dad.

Have any family?

Skatra: I do, back at the city. I haven’t spoken with them in almost thirty years. Eyn is the only closest family I’ve got.

Eyn: Yeah, I’ve just got him, too.

Doc: Uh, me? I can’t say. I guess if you count my model’s predecessors and successors. It makes sense.

Farqua: Same story as Doc, I guess.

Wyra: Same’s too!

Have you ever been in love? If you have, do they love you back?

Skatra: A few times I thought I did, actually. Once in high school, twice in university, and after, I realised love wasn’t anything of my interest. I’m not complaining, though.

Wyra: Definitely! I been in love before!

Skatra: Robots can… Do that...?

Wyra: Um, yeah?

Doc: I haven’t, really. Also, this might be related, but I’ve done so a few times ever since I created the lust chip, and experimented with myself.

Eyn: Lust chip…? The heck?

Farqua: Woo-hoo, Doc, who were they?

Doc: In my first trial, it was my human anatomy model, and eventually my human skeleton model.

Farqua: … What – ya didn’t go head-over-heels with anyone alive?

Doc: Of course not! Why would I experiment with those chips around people?!

Farqua: Oh. Well, I ain’t fallen in love yet. Maybe ‘cause I’ve yet to get the hots for anyone ‘round here. Even with the lust chip! Surprisin, huh! …Y’know, since I gotta admit, I do like to look a lil cuter, don’t I?

Eyn: Uh… Well, there’s this uvra girl...

Farqua: …

Doc: …

Wyra: ...

Skatra: Eyn, you’ve fallen in love?!

Can you cook?

Skatra: Well, yes! I have to eat to survive. It’s a human thing.

Doc: I’ve tried teaching myself to. It’s not that difficult, actually.

Wyra: I can, a bit! I’m not very skilled though, and people have just told me to just stick to working the gas, rather than actually working with the gas.

Eyn: Dad’s been teaching me some. He says I’m a natural, haha.

Farqua: Well, I sorta do. I ain’t that great at it, though. Shucks, I gotta up my cookin’ game!

Do you despise the Earth?

Skatra: Not really. Earth is history after all, so why should I care so much?

Farqua: Some people hate stuff from the past, y’know,

Skatra: That’s fair.

Doc: Well, despite everything, I’m pretty indifferent.

Wyra: Earth’s pretty cool if you ask me. Shame I can’t actually see it for myself, though.

Eyn: I don’t know much about Earth. But Axel lives in that place, so that’s cool.

Farqua: I’m all about Earth! There ain’t nothin else I’ve been readin’ about lately!

What's your pet peeve?

Skatra: When anyone leaves anything personal unlocked. Imagine seeing a bag or a house’s door left open. How do people even do that? I remember back in high school nobody would lock their lockers unless they actually had to. It bothered me so much to the point where I locked one of my classmates’. That was also the time I made my first enemy. Well, not really; the person barely knew me! But they swore they’d kill me.

Doc: The fact that engineers aren’t being as creative with android antennae anymore! Are they not accepting creatives into the industry anymore or something? ...No offence, Farqua.

Farqua: Yeah, fine. Whatever.

Wyra: I think my pet peeve is when people are super nitpicky and pick out really small and meaningless details, as if they’re gonna do something big. Like, what’s the point?

Eyn: When people talk over TV shows and movies and stuff. Why would you even do that?

Farqua: Hm… I think I hate when people run over plants. Y’know, like the ones that ain’t grass n’ all that. They’re alive, too, y’know! And they especially don’t get stepped on like that!

What kind of music to you like?

Skatra: I’ve enjoyed all forms of jazz. I think big band’s my favourite.

Doc: This might be surprising, but I actually prefer genres like breakbeat. Or, if I want to relax, I’ll listen to space ambiance.

Wyra: Happy hardcore, hardstyle, handsup - anything that’s energising, really!

Eyn: Rock n’ roll and blues are my favourites. Maybe some ska-punk, too. I feel like a total badass when listening to them.

Farqua: I love some good punk rock, or maybe even add somethin’ like some folkier flavour to songs like those!

What's your favorite food?

Skatra: Tiramisu. I don’t have it often, but I guess that’s why it’s my favourite.

Doc: ...I’m a robot. But I’ve always wanted to try dark chocolate.

Wyra: Me too! I don’t know what they taste like, but maybe cheese and nachos will do it for me!

Eyn: Dad’s always told me about different foods, but I think he’s described ramen noodles the best.

Farqua: I been told that honey-lemon chicken tastes great! I really wanna taste that!

Are you bored, want to kill me, satisfied with this quiz, etc.?

Skatra: I’ve been enjoying it a bit, actually.

Doc: Me too. I was afraid I’d get bored. ...Sorry.

Wyra: I enjoyed it! It was a lot of questions to get through though, but I’m still here!

Eyn: Eh, it was cool, I guess…

Farqua: I ain’t gonna kill ya, I promise! ...I mean, it was good!

Who's your favorite villain other than yourself?

Skatra: I don’t know. Why would I have a favourite villain? Or if you’re talking about the people in this group, I guess, it’s Eyn. She’s my daughter, after all.

Doc: Wyra’s one of my closest friends. Of course, I’d pick her.

Wyra: Right back at you, Sarlife!

Eyn: I guess, I’ve just got my dad. Or, if you meant it that way, I really like one named Taft Grater. He’s one of the villains of the Axel Duiti series. He’s really well written.

Farqua: Huh! This is a tough one! I dunno, maybe Wyra.

Do you think you're gonna die in your story?

Skatra: I don’t know. Like everyone else, I hope not, but I’ll just take what’s thrown at me.

Doc: Let’s hope I don’t!

Wyra: I don’t think I’ll die!

Eyn: I hope not, too.

Farqua: WELL, I BETTER NOT!!!

Well, I have to go, and I'm sure you have a lot of evil scheming to do. Peace out! (Or should I say "destruction out!" in your cases?) For your creators, go tag someone! Please, it won't take long!

Me lol: (Sorry! :’D)

Anything to add now that I'm done rambling?

Me lol: Not really, actually! but it was fun :D

Look! Please do it if you have villains, and credit me!

Please spread the word!

(I don't have much time, I have a timed session, as I'm using some random wifi server, so I'll add more later!)

#Chocco's OCs #Mr Skatra #Dr Aufel #Wyra Kappel #Eyn Duiti #Farqua Pells #Project: Proclo #Chocco does memes #Chocco's writing #Chocco's scripts #Chocco's info dumps #Dr Sarlife Aufel #Doc / Sarlife #Eyn Duiti Skatra

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phobidawg · 4 years

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TLC Holiday Lunar Bake Off- Christmas Caking

Episode 2 of The Holiday Lunar Bake-Off, where the crew starts baking. Their first challenge, Christmas cakes! As expected, this leads to many funny mishaps and mistakes.

(Yes I promised to post these every week but I got lazy I’m sorry!)

Like the first, my apologizes for typos and grammar mistakes, I wrote this two years ago, and some of them I just didn’t bother to correct for “comedic effect” in my cringy young mind. I figured that this would provide some amusement in quarantine, and it does get funnier in later chapters (as my comedic understand develops.) Enjoy!

Iko: Welcome to Episode 2 of the Holiday Baking Championship, Christmas Caking! Contestants you may enter!

*there is some shouting backstage, a voice calls “No. I refuse to wear it.” and after a struggle, another voice saying “I don’t want to be here all day so get in single file or I swear on all the stars I will shoot you!”*

Kinney: Should I alert the Captain of the Guard? Maybe they should go deal with that… *he looks hopeful*

Iko: Aren’t you the Captain of the Guard?

Kinney: Yep.

Iko: *scowls at Kinney’s tactics, but there’s something adoring about it*

*Group files out of doors perfectly in order, with Scarlet in back, a hand on her waistband*

Iko: *looking super excited* OH MY STARS YOU GUYS LOOK SO CUTE!!! *squealing as she sees everyone wearing matching pink flowered aprons*

*kinney skillfully zooms in on Thorne wearing his pink apron, snickering*

Iko: *gushing* You all look wonderful! Oms! *fails to notice how badly the apron fits Wolf, or how awkward and broodingly mad at situation Jacin looks. Cress and Winter look at their aprons adoringly, whereas Cinder rolls her eyes at the pink. Scarlet is still wearing her red hoodie, so she’s fine, Thorne wears his proudly, and Kai keeps giving Cinder a nervous glance, hoping she doesn’t judge him.*

Iko: *getting over her love of the outfits* Our first challenge today is cake! Each person will have to make a cake including and starring a secret ingredient, and favorite among the holidays… *Tressa pushes a cart with a decorative cloth and a silver platter a top it*

Tressa: *quietly* Do you like the aprons?! I sewed them myself, and forced them into wearing it. *winks at Iko*

Iko: They’re perfect Tressa, as always! *secretive smile is shared*

Tressa: *lets go of tray in front of Iko before waving at camera* Hi Liam!

Kinney: *camera shakes violently as he waves back*

Tressa + Iko: Watch the camera!

Kinney: *muttering* a guy can’t get a break around here.

Tressa + Iko: *simultaneously again* shh!

Cinder: Iko, as you were saying before?

Iko: Oh yeah! Tressa could you do the honors?

Tressa: Really?! *super excited*

Iko: Oh course! *super dramatically* and the mystery ingredient is…

Tressa: *slowly and equally dramatically lifts top* Apples!

Iko: Yay! Thank you Tressa for your marvelous performance! *starts to applaud*

Wolf: *growls at apples threateningly*

Cinder and Scarlet: *give Wolf a glance before sharing a knowing look*

Winter: I love apples!

Jacin: *looking slightly worried* After Levana’s stunt I’m still wary about apples petites and apples in general…

Thorne: Oh, don’t be such a worrywort. *claps Jacin’s shoulder* There’s nothing wrong with the candy! That was one time! Apples themselves may be a bit questionable, but I eat the candy all the time and there’s nothin’ wrong with me. Ever since Winter introduced me, and Cress found a store in the middle of Utah that sold some, I’ve been eating non-stop, and I’m fine! Great even! *flexes arm* Ain’t that right Cress?

Cress: *blushing profusely*

Cinder: Which part? The candy or the part about you being fine? Because I think I know which one you’re correct about, and it’s not the one that involves you flexing shirtless in front of the Rampion mirrors every morning.

Thorne: *shrugs* What can I say? I have a great bod.

Cress: *blushing even redder*

Wolf: Cress are you okay? You look like you’re about to turn into a tomato!

Kai: You mean like that movie where the girl turns into a blueberry and gets to be rolled out of the factory?

Cinder: *surprised* You’ve watched Charlie and the Chocolate factory?

Kai: What! Being an only child in a huge palace can get boring.

Scarlet: You mean the one where the kid wins a ticket in a chocolate bar? I used to love that movie!

Winter: *singing* who can take a sunrise?

Sprinkle it in dew?

Cover it in chocolate,

And a miracle or two?

Scarlet, Winter, Cress, and Kai: The candyman,

The Candyman Can.

The Candyman can

‘cause he mixes it

with love and makes

the world taste good.

Cinder + Jacin: stooooooop

Cinder: You guys do realize that song is like literally 100+ years old? Talk about not being on top of pop culture.

Jacin: Hear, hear.

Cress: Um, you do realize I was stuck in a satellite for the last few years? I didn’t even learn how to use a microwave until yesterday.

Thorne: *looking proud* I showed her.

Cress: *giving him a look* Wait a moment. As I was saying, being on top of pop culture is the least of my worries. And I like this song!

Winter: What’s a microwave?

Wolf: Stole the words right out of my mouth.

Scarlet: Horrible devices that are ruining good home cooking.

Cinder: Oof. My life is a lie.

Wolf: Ew. Also Scar, could you teach me that song you were singing later? You sound beautiful when you sing it.

Scarlet: *smiling* Oh, we’re totally watching Willy Wonka later.

Cress: Slumber party with 2nd Era movies anyone?!

Iko: Count me in!

Cinder: *sighs* I guess I’m coming to then, I’ll dragged there whether I want to or not.

Winter: Yay! Dear Selene your going to love it. Can we watch Snow White and the Seven Dwarves from Disney as well?

Cress: I love Disney! Especially Tangled. I can totally relate relate to her hair struggles ;)

Thorne: I got the popcorn and candy!

Winter: Jacin?

Jacin: No way in spades am I watching a movie about a bunch of kids eating chocolate and singing.

Winter: *pretty pleading eyes* Pretty please? With a bow and sour apples petites on top?

Jacin: *averting eyes carefully* fiiiiine.

Kinney: This is fun and all, but aren’t we tapping a show? I sacrificed my netdramas to keep this thing plugged in all night!

Iko: Oh yeah! Anyway, what were we talking about?

Cinder: Apples.

Thorne: Huh?

Cinder: *annoyed* Apples!

Thorne: Is your battery running low again? Because I have no intention of opening your control panel ever again *shivers squeamishly*

Cinder: No! That’s the last thing we were talking about you dolt!

Thorne: Oh, that makes more sense. Thank goodness.

CInder: *rolls her eyes*

Thorne: *throws an arm around Cinder shoulders buddy-like* Oh, you know you love me. *rubs his knuckles in her hair*

Cinder: *groans* Get off me you oaf. *shoves his arm off and pulls now even messier ponytail higher*

Iko: Okay! So on three, everyone grab a bag of apples and… GO!

*Everyone except Wolf and Winter, who are still standing where they were*

Winter: Oh, are we starting? *giggles and twirls over to grab some apples*

Wolf: *angry* I refuse!

Scarlet: *coming over with her bag* Come on, it’s just a competition…

Wolf: No! I refuse to insult tomatoes in such a way! These upstart apples, what do they think they are… *glares at Scarlet’s bag angrily*

Scarlet: Calm down, it’s not that big a deal…

Wolf: *getting worked up* Not a big deal? Not a big deal! Apples are taking over! Everywhere you look, there’s apples! Apples pie, apple muffins, apple waffles… not tomatoes, never tomato pie, or tomato muffins!

Scarlet: *placing a hand on his shoulder* It’s okay, I’m sure you can work with apples this once…

Wolf: Work with the apples! Of course not! You know what, I’ll show them, I refuse to use the tomatoes. I absolutely won’t bend to the norm of today’s world! Tomatoes will always be #1, no matter what anyone else thinks. SO you know what? *not waiting for a response* I’m going to use tomatoes instead! See how they take that! *purposefully marches toward pantry*

Cinder: *coming over to meet Scarlet* What just happened?

Scarlet: *rolling her eyes, but there’s something loving about it* Stars only know! Now, we need to get started.

*the two walk over to their stations*

*screen follows Iko as she walks over to Kai, who is gathering supplies, his brow furrowed in concentration*

Iko: Watcha doin’ Kai?

Kai: *jumps, dropping supplies* Oh, um, *bending down to pick up dropped stuff*I was thinking of making apple crumble, something that I used to make with my mom when we were little.

Iko: Aw! Have you ever made these yourself before?

Kai: Uh, no? But I’m confident in my abilities. *puts on a fake confident smile*

Iko: You don’t seem confident. But that sounds amazing! Good luck, I have my money bet on you winning! *smiles flirtatiously*

Kai: *smiles gratefully, completely not noticing Iko’s flirting* Thanks Iko!

*camera follows Iko as she walks over to Cress*

Iko: Hey Cress! What are you working on?

Cress: Hi Iko! I’m working on apple cinnamon cookies with honey drizzle.

Iko: *surprised* Wow! That sounds really advanced!

Cress: I’ve never made it before, but I would watch baking shows in the satellite and read up on different pastries in my free time.

Iko: That sounds like a smart strategy. Well played Cress!

Cress: Well, I didn’t exactly know I was going to be on a baking show in the future, but thanks. Also, best of all, I’m going to be able to use my newfound microwave abilities!

Iko: Awesome! Good luck Cress!

*camera floats over to Thorne who’s next to Cress*

Thorne: Um, Cress?! I’m supposed to put 22 cups of flour in here, right? Or was it just 2… ?

Cress: *peeks over from her own cookie supplies, where she sees Thorne with a huge bowl of flour, flour spilling all over the edges. He is covered head-to-toe in white flour, and he looks like a ghost.* Oh, Captain. *she Smiles, pecks his flour-covered cheek, and starts to wipe of his face.*

Iko: *swooning, one hand on her heart, the other at her side* awww!!!

Kinney: Are we going to interview him or not?

Iko: Stars no! I’m not getting flour on my new dress! More importantly, I’m not interrupting my ship in action!

Kinney: *groans*

Iko: What if you take the camera around while I stay over here and fangirl?

Kinney: *grumbling but the camera slowly starts to move around room*

*zooms in on Jacin and Winter, who are working side by side*

Winter: I love Christmas!!! *throws green and red glitter in air, covering both her and Jacin*

Jacin: *ducking and covering head with arms* Ah! Cut that out! *smiling to himself, but trying to hide it*

Winter: Aw, come on, have a little fun! *smiles micheviously, and throws more glitter on Jacin, who now resembles a sparkly christmas tree ornament than a person*

Jacin: *scowling* uuuugh. *scowls down at his pink apron and the glitter, cringing majorly.* I have no words to describe how bad this is.

Winter: You look like Christmas dear Jacin. *humming to herself, she starts to pour sugar and flour into a bowl, but some sugar spills out* Oops! *giggles*

Jacin: *sighs affectionately* You really are nothing but Trouble.

Winter: Thank you. *starts to clean up sugar* This apple petite cake is going to be yummier than Scar’s macaroons!

Scarlet: *looking up from her work. Playfully competitive* Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that. My apples macaroons are going to blow everyone else’s desserts out of this galaxy.

Winter: What about you Jacin? How is your dessert going to compare?

Jacin: I don’t know, they haven’t been judged yet.

*camera leaves and travels over to Wolf, who has a workplace ahead of him filled with nothing but tomatoes*

Wolf: *has five plates for all of the judges ahead of him. On each of the plates, there is one chopped tomato, one smashed tomato, and a plain tomato.*

Wolf: Perfect. Yum. *reaches to each a little bit of smashed tomato, but stops himself* No, it’s for the judges. ;(

Wolf: *goes over to blender with tomato in hand*

Kinney: Ewww *moves away to Cinder’s station*

Cinder: *tries to wipe a bit of apple of her cheek, but only spreads it more* Kai, pass me the vanilla extract.

Kai: What’s the magic word?

Cinder: *groaning* pleeeaase.

Kai: *tosses her a small bottle, and notices the apple on her face with a small smile, before turning back to his stuff*

Cinder: Hey Kinney.

Kinney: SHh! I’m not here… *waggles fingers in Cinder’s face mock mysteriously*

Cinder: *smirking* Hello Not Here.

Kinney: Just no. *leaves Cinder’s station to stick camera in Kai’s face*

Kai: *leans back a bit* Um hello?

Kinney: *no response, put finger to his lips*

Kai: *nods* Okay. *turns back to his work*

*camera zooms in on the bowl with sugar covered caramelized apples*

Kinney: *camera shakes a bit as he nods, impressed*

*suddenly, camera slips and falls into bowl of apples*

Kai: *off-screen* AH NOT MY APPLES!

Iko: *off-screen* AAH KINNEY NOT THE CAMERA!

Kinney: *off-screen* oops.

*everything comes back into view as Kinney picks up camera, but everything in blurry because of the carmel sauce on the lens*

Iko: *coming really close the screen to inspect it* Ugh. It’s going to need a new lens. Kinney!!!!!!

Iko: *over her shoulders* FIFTEEN MINUTES BAKERS! *to camera* Okay, so we’re going to get a new lens, so until next time, Happy Holidays, and please like, repost, share, and stay tuned for next time, where we’ll see who wins Challenge One, Christmas Caking! Love you! <3 ;P

#ik this one's a bit short #so I post the next soon!#I can feel my reputation declining by the second #lunar chronicles fanfic #tlc fanfic #tlc holiday lunar bake-off #linh cinder #scarlet benoit #the lunar chronicles #cress darnel #carswell thorne #my fanfic #my fic #kill me

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currentlyreadingmanga · 5 years

Text

Toilet-bound Hanako-kun: Chapter 8 - The Confession Tree

My thoughts so far: okay so I’m starting the manga on this chapter since I’ve already watched episodes 1-4 of the anime which cover chapters 1-7. The story so far is not at all what I expected (in the best way possible). I really like the dynamic we are establishing with what seems to be our main trio (I already kinda ship Hanako and Yashiro but I guess that’s to be expected). I also love the mechanic they explained regarding the rumors and the effect they have on the aparitions, it’s very cool and I can’t wait to meet the other mysteries. Also I’m incredibly curious about Hanako’s past and from some comments I’ve seen online of manga readers sobbing about the angst, I’m more that sure that this series will make me cry at some point.

Previously: We last left of with the resolution of the Misaki Stairs arc (and an adorable little peck on the cheek that I was not ready for). Also, we were introduced to two new characters, Natsuhiko and the green haired girl, which seemed to be keeping tabs on Yashiro and Hanako, and they also seemed to have a grey/black version of Haku-Joudai named Koku-Joudai. I’m curious to know if one of them could end up being an aparition like Hanako or if they could be working for one of the seven mysteries (since the girl was shown in the anime to be the one on the radio spreading the rumors about the mysteries)

Now onto the new chapter!

Okay so the chapter starts with what seems to be one of Yashiro’s daydreams about her prince charming, bless her heart

One thing I’ve found really interesting about her so far is her personality: she’s definitely a romantic person, someone whose head is on the clouds and thrives on romantic and over the top gestures and stories. But at the same time this idealistic part of her also shows us (like how she realised herself in episode one) that it’s not so much that she’s in infatuated with every pretty boy she meets but more so that she’s in love with the idea of being in love, of having the kind of romance you see in movies or read in books.

And this panel once again reinforces that idea we established in chapter one.

Kinda went on a long tangent there but anyways, she’s daydreaming and-

pffft that made me laugh. I see that Hanako’s little kiss affected her more than she wants to admit even to herself. That’s adorable omg. Poor thing can’t catch a break and starts yelling NO in the middle of class. That’s really not good since people have already seen her “talking to herself” in the hallways.

Okay but this cover page?? and this title??? I smell the romantic tropes coming and I’m totally okay with it omg

We skip to gardening class and we learn that it’s been a month since Yashiro and Hanako met and the bond was forged.

“I don’t think anything good’s ever come from it” keep telling yourself that, sweetie, but you know you like his little sassy self even if just as a friend by now.

Omg

That really hit her hard, huh? Denial is not just a river in Egypt, Yashiro dear

But she says she’s never been kissed before and I understand how much importance she puts into it. With her romantic personality, she probably wanted it to be a special occasion with someone she already had feelings for

Gotta say, it’s kinda refreshing to see that this is one of the first things she considers. Because while Hanako does seem to have a teasing personality in general (or at least it seems to me so far that he enjoys teasing her in particular), as she starts to connects all the shipping moments so far, it is a logical conclusion to reach.

Aoi arrives and oh! Yashiro actually talks to her about what’s been happening with Hanako (omiting the ghost part, I assume)

Aoi seems to agree that he seems to like her and

That’s an awfully happy reaction for you to later say that “he’s not your type” (then again, she’s probably happy already by the fact that someone likes her, but still)

“I can’t tell her he’s a ghost, so...” okay, good lol

Okay yeah, she’s definitely over the moon with the idea that he might like her

Now Aoi presents the idea of “why not date him anyway to see what it’s like”. And I’m a little conflicted, I know she means well and I know that’s not where this situation will probably go, but it could also lead to a scenario of where he feels like he was lead on.

Anyway, Aoi says that she should probably get ready since it seems likely that he will confess soon

Ah, here it is, our new mystery or aparition and Yashiro notices that something is off about this whole situation. If she doesn’t remember the tree being there, could it be because of new rumors? and also, why is she the only one notice it? I’m guessing it is because of her bond with Hanako, and that lets her have a stronger connection with the spiritual world in the school; just like during the last arc, since she and Kou were the only ones who noticed the people who had gone missing.

Nevertheless, it seems like we can see the tree work its magic right now and um-

ngl I was so confused for a second there by his lukewarm reaction lol so he’s practicing to confess to Aoi and his friend here is being a good sport about it kinda by helping him

Aoi points out how there seem to be a lot of new couples lately thanks to the influence of the confession tree

When Aoi suggests that a “special someone” could be asking Yashiro soon to meet him under that tree she’s all like “nooo of course he wouldn’t”. And that in my book means “of course he will but probably not to confess to you because come on, the couple can’t get together so soon”

And yep

Seems it will go that way. You know, the “one person thinks one thing, the other thinks another thing but both of the think they are on the same page but then they realize and it’s embarrassing” way. I kinda hope I’m wrong though because if he doesn’t confess, Yashiro is probably gonna be really sad about it and I don’t want her to be sad

Okay, next day. Yashiro is excited to tell the news to Aoi but it seems something happened that made her cry

I guess I should have seen this coming when they mentioned the onslaught of new couples but I didn’t expect that it would work even on people who weren’t actually confessing to each other. I wonder if it would work its magic on any type of confession, even the ones that were rejected, or if it worked here because even if they were practicing, his friend still said “yes”

These two are pretty cute together but it seems like Aoi isn’t taking it so well.

Apparently she knew that Akane liked her (it seems like it’s been like this for a long time since they’re childhood friends) but she rejected him. Or that’s my guess since she says that she doesn’t like him and the day before she knew that he was practicing to confess to her. But yeah, for her to be this torn over it, I think that she likes him more than she wants to admit. Huh, seems like Yashiro and Aoi have a lot in common in that regard

Anyway, it seems that Yashiro wasn’t able to talk with Aoi about her future meeting with Hanako under the tree but that’s not gonna stop her

I love Yashiro so much, bless her heart and this manga’s self awareness

This chart omg I love it pffft Poor Kou and Hanako, classified as little wild boys. I’m a firm believer of the idea that it doesn’t matter if you have a clear “type”, you could still fall for someone when you least expect it. So what I’m trying to say is that this won’t stop me from hoping that this ship comes true. I’m already invested

Now she sees it waiting by the tree and thinks “he can be pretty cool sometimes” while blushing. That’s good, Yashiro, acceptance starts with baby steps

Oh man, here we go. I think I’m right but I don’t want to be

Ahhhhhhh this is beautiful but I feel like Yashiro’s happiness is gonna get crushed real soon ahhhh

Ahhh baby she’s so happy that she was confessed to, I can’t

And there it is. Hanako is urging her to turn him down quickly and she looks so confused ;n; bby

Is he trying to get the spirit to show up by forcing it to work harder since the confession didn’t work out naturally? It would be a way to do it, I guess, and it would answer my question from earlier

Yep, that seems to be the case. And by the sounds of it the tree doesn’t sound very happy about this

I-I don’t know what I was expecting from this tree but it really wasn’t this omfg that face

Yashiro voices my thoughts by saying “gross” and the tree feels very offended by this and tries to attack her but it seems he can’t touch her.

At first I thought Hanako had stopped it, but it looks like Yashiro had a protection spell on her cheek. Well, I’m guessing that Hanako still stopped it since it says “seven” and it makes sense that he would cast something like that on her considering how prone she is to find herself in this situations

Now the tree is trying to justify its actions but Hanako replies that what it’s is nothing more than meddling with people’s lives and yeah, that about sums it up. Even if the core goal was to make the couples happy, it still went overboard like with Akana and his friend.

Aaaaand Hanako defeated it. Now it’s a really small tree. And he explains that it is a “kodama”, meaning a supernatural tree and that its methods were indeed forceful when it started gaing power thanks to the rumors.

Oh. Oh no. Now that he’s explaining everything to Yashiro he’s like “but didn’t you already now this since you were helping me?” and she’s trying to convince herself that she’s not bothered by it but she clearly is and awww baby it’s okay.

Oh nox2 Hanako realized what she was thinking and he’s gonna tease her about it but I don’t think it’s a good idea right now oh no

Noooooooooooooooooo she’s crying oh no ;n; She wears her heart on her sleeve and she was so happy, poor baby

You know, I heard that this series gets angsty later on but I didn’t expect to be fighting back tears so soon

Well, Hanako is obviously startled by this reaction. She’s so embarrassed and oh, he says that the kiss he gave her was the moment he placed the protection spell so she wouldn’t get attacked by supernatural for a while! Ohhhh that explains why the writing appeared on her cheek, makes sense

But anyway, she says it was confusing and tbh she has a point, specially when you consider it in relation of how he normally behaves around her. She’s walking home, and I can’t really blame her, even if it was a misunderstanding, she probably feels like her emotions were played with a little bit

Oh this is a beautiful double page spread:

He took his hat for the first time! and you can tell that he really feels bad about what happened. Like, yes, he enjoys teasing her but I truly believe (at least so far) that he would never really try to hurt her on purpose

Ahhh and the next close up of his face! baby boy, he looks so sad noooo ;n; and he really does look like such a young boy, which can be easy to forget due to his easy going and teasing Hanako of the Bathroom self.

He asks her to stay with him until she’s done crying since he probably doesn’t want her to leave while she’s still upset ahhhh (ಥ﹏ಥ)

“Today, at this moment, for the first time...I felt like I wanted to know more about him” (TдT) (TдT) (TдT)

#toilet bound hanako kun #jibaku shounen hanako kun #jshk spoilers #live blogging

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bazypitchandsimonsnow · 5 years

Text

Back to Haunt Me

Rating: T

Genre: Fluff/Light Angst

Word count: 12301

Summary: Simon Snow hasn't heard from his former roommate in years. So when he gets a call from him, he's equal parts confused and intrigued. Based on "I called you at 2am because I need you" request from @god-themself

Read on AO3

AN: I'm really sorry for how long these requests are taking, oy. Every time I start writing, the fic ends up getting longer and my stupid body decides to crap out and not work. Anyway, here's the latest fic. Hope you enjoy it :)

———————————————

Simon

I’m sitting upside down on my couch when I get the call.

It’s not something I do too often, just when I’m really, really stuck on something. I say that ideas pool in my feet and this lets them trickle down to my head. Penny thinks it’s absolutely ridiculous. She says it will give me headaches, and it does, but it also helps. I’ve been stuck for an hour on coming up with new lessons. This is my last resort.

So I’m laying upside down on my small couch, legs up in the air, face turning a very bright shade of red. My glasses slipped off a while ago, making me essentially blind to anything more than five feet away. My mind is swimming with new ideas for maths games and art projects, the mental images almost swirling past my blurry vision.

And when I’m deep in contemplation a new history Kahoot, my phone blares out my “Toxic” ringtone. (Britney is amazing and haters can fuck off.) I flip up way too fast, making my vision spin like water in a toilet bowl. I paw at my phone while I wobble back and forth. With the combination of my glasses on the floor and blood rushing from my head, I don’t bother to read the caller ID. Or lack thereof.

“Hello?” I say shakily, still clutching my head.

“Siiiiimon,” a low, slurring, strangely familiar voice says. Is a student prank calling me again? Dammit, I thought I scolded them enough.

“Jeremy, if that’s you, this isn’t funny. This is my personal mobile and you-”

“Aw, did you already forget me, Snow?” the person continues, and my heart suddenly freezes. “It hasn’t been that long has it? Only seven years.”

My jaw drops and I sit ramrod straight. Every vein in my body turns ice cold. Holy. Fucking, Shit. “Baz?!”

“Yes, it is I. Good evening, Snow,” he snorts, but there’s still that weird waver to his voice.

“A-Are you drunk?”

“Ding ding, we have a winner in every category,” he giggles. Fucking giggles. I don’t think I ever heard him let out so much as a chuckle in all the years I lived with him. He must be very drunk.

“Um, how did you get my number?”

“Remember when you got mysterious calls supposedly from the Babadook when we were fifteen? Surprise! That was me! Got your mobile off the school registry.”

My mouth falls open even more. “I knew that was you!”

“Duh!” There’s some shuffling on the other end. “Shush! Yes, I actually have him on the line. I’ll get him to come.” He’s definitely not talking to me. He lets out a long sigh. “I’m sorry about that, Snow. Super sorry, for everything I did back in school. So please don’t hang up.”

Admittedly, I was going to. But he sounds so pathetic and drunk, so I stay on. “Alright,” I sigh. “I’m still here.”

“Hooray!” There’s a short stretch of silence. He doesn’t continue, so I have to pipe up again.

“Baz,” I say, “not to be rude, but, uh, why are you drunk calling me? We haven’t seen each other in awhile and it’s...” I scramble to grab my glasses, then look at my wall clock. “After two in the morning. Plus, you like, hate me.”

“No,” he slurs out. He sounds well pissed. “I don’t hate you, Snow. You’re too much of a kind brave hero to hate.”

“Um, thank you?”

He laughs loudly. I’ve heard him laugh more in the last five minutes than I did our entire childhoods. “You’re very, very welcome.”

Again with the silence. I can’t believe I’m the one talking more between us. “So... why are you calling? You wanna catch up or something?”

Baz lets out a long, low groan. For some reason, I imagine him slumping against a wall or something. “I bloody wish. Stupid barkeep won’t let me leave until I call someone to get me and my stupid friends and stupid aunt won’t pick up.”

“So you decided to call me?!”

“You’re the only other person I know who lives in London.”

“Who told you I lived in London?”

“Aggie. Said you had a cute little flat and a cute little cat.” He giggles, and I can almost picture a dopey smile on his usually frowning face. It looks so weird and wrong. “Hey, that rhymes.”

I sit even more upright. “Wait, Aggie? As in Agatha?! Are you two dating now?!”

He scoffs. Now that really reminds me of our school days. “No, Snow, I’m not dating your ex. She’s not my type.”

“That’s rude. Agatha is very pretty.”

“I mean that she’s not a man, Snow.”

My face immediately turns scarlet, and this time not from being upside down. “O-Oh. You’re gay?”

“Once again, duh!”

“Fuck off, you flirted with her all the time!”

“Nuh-uh.” He sounds like a bloody obnoxious American. “Not really. Just did that to piss you off.”

“I’m hanging up,” I growl.

“Wait!” Baz shouts as I move the phone off my ear. “Please don’t hang up, Simon. Fucking hell, I need you.”

I seriously debate actually hanging up. But there’s something in his voice that tugs at my chest. It’s weird and explainable, but it’s there. I slowly bring the phone back to my ear. “You need me?”

“Yeah,” he groans. “I’m drunk as fuck and uh...yeah, I’m still bleeding.”

My pulse goes wild instantly. “Bleeding?! Are you hurt?!”

“Yeah, but you should see the other bloke,” he laughs proudly. “Bartender says if someone doesn’t pick me up and take me home, she’s calling the police to come get me. Doesn’t trust me with an Uber or something.” Baz makes a weird yet familiar sound. Is...is Baz Pitch sticking his tongue out at someone? What the fuck has happened in the last seven years?

“Alright,” I sigh. “Where are you?”

“Yay! I am...” He takes a long pause, which gives me time to rub my aching temple. “Hey, where am I?”

There’s more rustling and some muffled yelling. “He’s at XOYO,” a stern woman’s voice says. “32-37 Cowper St, second floor. We’re closing in an hour so get here soon.”

Before I can say anything else, the phone clicks off. I stay frozen for a moment. My brain is still playing a bit of catch up. So, Baz bloody Pitch has called me out of the blue after seven years, drunk off his arrogant arse, apparently gay, and needs me to pick him up. And now he’s sorry for being a dick to me through our entire time in school? That’s nice. Few years too late if you ask me, but better late than never I suppose.

I look down at all my notes, the ones I have to finish in a few weeks before the new school year. If I were a worse person, I would forget about Baz, finish my lessons, and just go to bed. He’s my former bully, I shouldn’t care. But when I think about Baz, drunk, bleeding, sitting there alone at a bar waiting for me but I never show up, my stomach plummets to the centre of the Earth.

Godammit.

I march towards the door, grab my keys, and set out to fulfill a bad idea.

Turns out this bar is right in the middle of bloody Shoreditch. Which means at this time of night (or morning), there’s lots of closing nightclubs and stumbling drunk people being sick on the sidewalk. Glad I didn’t take the tube.

XOYO is a mostly nondescript red brick building with some black panelling and a neon red sign. I park as close as I can, which is not that close. The stairs up to the club are steep and leave me panting by the end. Bloody hell, I need to get back to the gym. Chasing ten years old is not enough exercise apparently. The bar is one of those hipster places with wooden tables and old Victorian chairs and candles. There’s a few people passed out on tables, snoring with their beer glasses.

“Simon!” a familiar voice shouts from the bar. “Simon, over here!”

I turn to my left too look at the bar, and...wow. After seven years, Baz looks so different, yet so the same. Same sharp cheekbones, same long-ish raven hair, same deep sea grey eyes. He’s broader though, shoulders filling out his blood stained grey dress shirt. Far less gaunt and gangly and vampiric looking than he was in school. The shirt has the sleeves rolled up and the top two buttons undone. Weird. Baz always had his uniform buttoned to collar in school. Then I have to do a double take, because...Baz Pitch is wearing jeans? They’re dark and expensive looking, hugging his legs, which still have a footballer’s strong muscles. He has a big, dopey, drunk grin, which is offset by the small black eye and blood trickling from his nose. It’s unfortunate this is the first time I’ve ever seen him smile.

I walk towards him, hands in my pockets, shoulders nervously hunched in. Why is my heart beating so fast? Bloody hell, calm down, Simon, it’s just Baz. You know him, probably better than most people. He’s an arsehole, not evil. And we haven’t had a physical fight since we were thirteen. Plus it’s been seven years, we’re adults now. He won’t bite. Hopefully.

“Hi Baz,” I say, trying to hide my nerves. “Uh, nice to see you.”

Baz squints at me, and a pang of panic shoots through me. Is there something wrong with my face? Bloody hell, what a cruel twist of fate it would be, to see my childhood enemy after years and have pizza sauce on my cheek.

“Um, Baz, you there?” I weakly wave a hand in front of him.

“Since when do you wear spectacles?” he asks, still slurring his words.

I instinctively touch my wireframe glasses, immediately self conscious. “Oh. Since first year uni. Turns out one of the reasons school Watford so hard for me was that I couldn’t read the board a lot.”

I chuckle awkwardly, rubbing the back of my neck. I expect Baz to laugh or mock me like he used to. But instead he grins again, leaning his cheek on his bruised hand. “They look good.”

Why are my cheeks heating up? Must be bad air conditioning. “Um, thanks, Baz.”

He keeps grinning, showing off his sharp bright white teeth. (There’s a good reason I thought he was a vampire.) “Welcome.”

It goes silent again, with me standing awkwardly and Baz grinning. Christ, this is so weird. I assumed I’d never see Baz ever again, let alone drunk and bloodied in designer jeans. I have less of an idea what to do than usual.

“Ugh, finally!” a woman’s voice says to the side. I whip my head around to see who must obviously be the bartender. She’s got a deep scowl on her face and hands on her hips. “You’re Simon Snow?”

“Um, yeah, that’s me,” I reply.

“Good. Please take this arsehole off my hands.”

Baz blows a raspberry at her like a toddler. Bloody hell, he is a weird drunk. The bartender glares and flips him off.

“I’ll get him out of here,” I say.

“Thank you.” She digs under the bar and takes out a sleek black iPhone. “Here’s his phone. Took it from him after he almost dropped it in a beer glass.”

“Alright.” My brow furrows in confusion. “Do you have Baz’s keys? Or does he still have them?”

“He never had them. Searched all his pockets, nothing there.”

“Worst feel up ever,” Baz grumbles.

I rub my aching temple. “Baz, did you really forget your keys?”

He frowns and scratches his head with a bloodied hand. “Hm, yes, I think I did. I left my flat pretty fast. Maybe the super will let me in if he’s awake.”

“Where do you live?”

His brows pull together, bottom lip sticking out in a pout. Now that is certainly an expression I remember from school. It’s his thinking face. I used to glare at him while he studied all the time. “Somewhere...posh, and silver.”

I groan and drag a hand over my face. “Alright then. Well...I guess I’ll bring you to my flat.”

Baz’s jaw drops open and he shakes his head, making his black hair fan out in a strangely majestic way. “No no, you don’t have to do that. I’ll figure it out-”

“No, Baz, you won’t, you’re too pissed to think right now. I’m taking you to my place, no questions.”

He frowns. I can’t tell if he’s sad or angry. “I don’t wanna im-”

“We lived together for years, arsehole. One more night won’t kill you. Come on, get up.”

I grab his bicep and haul him to his feet. Bloody hell, does he work out a lot or something? He’s made of fucking rock. Baz wobbles back and forth and ends up leaning on me. I struggle to keep him upright.

“Baz,” I grumble, “you’re too heavy, I can’t hold you up.”

“Sorry, sorry.” He sort of heaves himself upwards, still wobbling on his feet, but at least he’s standing. That’s something I guess.

“You good?”

Baz sticks out his arms like he’s on a tightrope. “Yeah, I’m alright. Mostly.”

“Good enough. Let’s go.” I look over at the still very annoyed bartender. “Uh, thanks for taking care of him.”

“If you’re really thankful,” she spits, “make sure he doesn’t come back.”

She marches off into the back. Baz flips her off before I quickly pull down his hand. “Enough,” I grumble. “Let’s get you out of here before she smacks you.”

“Kinky,” he chuckles. God, drunk Baz is fucking weird.

Getting down the stairs takes far longer than it should. Baz has to watch his every step so he doesn’t go tumbling down. He’s like a shaky newborn fawn. It would be cute if it weren't so frustrating. Finally, we get to the bottom and I lead Baz by the sleeve towards my car. He laughs loudly when we reach it. I immediately scowl and whip around to face him.

“What?!” I snap, assuming he’s making fun of my old beat up beetle. But instead he has his head tilted upwards, laughing at the sky. Neon club signs and yellow street lights light up his smiling face. He’s like a rainbow constellation, colour reaching every crevice. Huh. Baz has always been pretty, but has he always been this pretty?

“Lights in the sky,” he laughs. “Pretty.”

I groan and tug him hard. “Come on, you drunk prat, hurry up.”

Baz stumbles along reluctantly. I shove into the passenger seat and buckle him up like he’s a bloody eight year old, then take my place in the driver’s seat. Baz is slumping, the seat belt digging into his cheek. If we crash his pretty face is going to get cut open. I debate telling him, but Baz rarely ever listens to me, and I doubt that has changed much.

I turn the engine over. Baz lets out a whoop so loud I jolt. “Allons-y,” he shouts like some deranged adventurer.

“Silence, s’il vous plait,” I reply as I turn on to the road.

“Oo, you speak French now, Snow?”

“Yes. I lived in France for a year, I learned pretty well.”

“Very nice.” For a moment I think he’s mocking me, but his smile is completely genuine, if not a bit drunken. Is it weird that I like drunk adult Baz better than sober teen Baz?

I drive through Shoreditch slowly, making sure not to hit any wayward club leavers. Baz grumbles about the slowness, but I tell him to shut up or I’ll drive us into a pole. That makes him quiet for a little while, thank god. When we hit the main drag, he decides to pipe up again.

“So what have you been up to, Snow?” he asks.

My eyes briefly flick over to him, catching his grin and glazed eyes. I scoff and look back at the road. “Really? We’re going to chit chat about life after Watford?”

“You just want us to sit in silence the whole time?”

“Maybe.”

“Boring,” he groans. “Come on, Snow, it’s been a while. Let’s catch up.”

I chuckle low in my throat. “Yes, I would love to catch up with my plastered childhood bully.”

Baz lets out a pathetic sort of whining sigh. Suddenly, something brushes my shoulder. I jolt away and briefly look over, realising it’s Baz’s hand. He’s pouting in the way his mouth is perfectly made for.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “About all the shit I did. I was a messed up prick at Watford. I’m really sorry I took that all out on you.”

I raise an extremely suspicious eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Really?!”

“It’s been seven years, Snow. Am I not allowed to learn from my mistakes?”

“Well, I mean, yeah, of course. I just didn’t expect it from you...”

“I’m a changed man, Snow,” he declares proudly. “No more picking on other people to avoid dealing with my emotional and family problems.”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “Wow, you sound like a therapist.”

“That’s because I am a therapist.”

We stop at a red light, giving me a chance to whip my head around in shock. My jaw is firmly on the ground. “You’re a therapist?!”

“Sort of.” Baz grins pointed ear to pointed ear. He offers his hand, though it’s a bit limp. “Dr. Basilton Grimm-Pitch, psychiatrist in training at University College Hospital. Pleasure to meet you.”

I can’t take my hands off the wheel, so I don’t take his, but I smile instead. Baz chuckles as his hand falls, so I think he gets the picture.

“Wow,” I sigh. “You, a psychiatrist. I never would have thought.”

“Me neither, until I took a psychology course in year 10. Then I decided I liked, y’know, mind stuff and shit. It was interesting and challenging. And I could help people with it.”

I scoff, but with a smile. “And you used to call me the overly noble hero.”

“Well, I decided to follow in your golden footsteps, golden boy.” He turns towards me, cheeks squished against the seat. He’s really going to die if we crash. “So really, what have you been up to since Watford, Mr. Hero? Storming castles? Saving damsels in distress? Travelling the world?”

That makes me laugh louder. “You have a way overinflated sense of my heroism.”

He snorts, but it’s not unkind like it used to be. Just sort of amused. “Alright. Then what do you do?”

“I’m, uh, actually a primary teacher. Year six, to be exact.”

“Oh,” Baz breathes out, sounding genuinely amazed. “That’s cool. That makes sense, yeah.”

“Makes sense?”

“You were always helping out the kids in younger years at Watford.”

I chuckle and shrug. “Yeah, guess you’ve got a point.”

“Is it fun? Teaching children?”

“Yeah. I like finding fun ways to teach them stuff. Though it’s not great they get in fights or stuck lego bricks up their noses.”

Baz lets out a barking laugh. It’s a fun, sudden sound. I’ve never heard it before, yet it works well for Baz. “Is that what people mean by ‘the joys of children?’”

“Something like that. Is psychiatry fun?”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “But time consuming. Doctors aren’t supposed to have damn lives apparently.”

“Well, good thing you found time to go to a hipster bar”

Everything suddenly gets very, very quiet. It reminds me of when we would study. Backs to each other, no noise, plenty of tension. Did I say something wrong? I used to do that a lot, but I thought I’d gotten better. I’ve learned to chew my words better over the years. But when we stop at a roundabout, I turn to see that Baz is gazing ahead, mouth a thin line and grey eyes lost in the distance.

“Pretty lights,” he whispers in awe, like a child. I guess alcohol does turn adults into children. His nose is still letting out a small trickle of dark red blood. I sigh and shake my head.

“Glove box,” I say.

Baz turns his head to me. “Huh?”

“There’s tissues in the glove box. Your nose is still bleeding a bit.”

“Oh.” He paws at the latch in front of him, floppy drunk fingers struggling to just bloody lift it. I sigh and reach over, lifting it for him. Baz takes out the little packet and flashes me that dopey smile. Why does my chest feel funny? I must be overtired.

“Thanks,” he says, then presses the tissue to his nose. It’s weirdly comforting in its familiarity. I still remember sitting in the headmaster’s office after our fights, covered in bruises and blood, glaring at each other. This is better though. We’re not fighting, in fact we’re being nice. Maybe this is how we could’ve been at Watford. Maybe we could’ve been...friends.

We sit in silence for the rest of the ride. But it’s a comfortable silence, no tension. I like it. A lot. I like all of this better than fighting.

———————————————

I pull into my spot in front of my apartment. Dragging Baz out of the car is a bit of a problem, but luckily my place has a lift, so no more stair problems. He starts leaning on me as we go up to my floor. I use one finger to push him back, and he slumps against the wall. I need to strap him to a dolly.

We go into my apartment, and I instinctively prepare for a snide comment from Baz. Something about it’s size, it’s clutter, the decor. But he says nothing derogatory. In fact, he smiles, brushing his hand against my Van Gogh print and old dining room table.

“You, uh, like it?” I ask. Wait, why does it matter what Baz thinks of my place? I don’t need his approval.

“Yeah,” Baz replies. “It’s very nice.”

There’s a thump from my room, followed by the familiar pitter-patter of tiny paws. Cherry prances into the room, all fluffy tailed and cute. She blinks up at Baz with big green eyes. Baz makes a tiny gasp and gets on his knees, holding his hand out to Cherry.

“Hello, pretty kitty,” he says softly. “Aren’t you an adorable little thing.”

Cherry sniffs his fingers, then immediately nuzzles against his hand. Baz looks absolutely elated, a big childish grin on his face.

“You like cats, huh?”

Baz nods vigorously. “I would have one if my building allowed pets.” He scratches behind Charry’s ear with glee. “What’s this little one’s name?”

“Her name is Cherry.”

“You did love those scones,” he chuckles.

I chuckle as well, fiddling with my shirt sleeve. “Still do. Though none are as good as Cook Pritchard’s.”

“Very true.” He stands up, pulling away from Cherry, and wobbles his way into the sitting room. He stands between my coffee table and ratty old couch. “So may I sleep on that couch?”

I scramble in after him and start piling up my curriculum papers. I don’t want Baz shouting at me for the mess. “Uh, yeah, just lemme fix it up a bit.”

“It’s alright-”

“No, I’ll fix it. And...maybe you should clean up a bit first?”

Baz turns to me with a confused expression. “What?” I sigh and point at is blood spattered shirt. He pulls it in front of himself, like a child who’s spilled food. “Oh, right.”

“There’s stuff on you face too...”

Baz drags a long finger over his cheek, and rubs the dried blood between his fingers. “Good point.

“You wanna take a shower maybe?”

“Is that okay with you?”

“Uh, yeah. But be warned, I don’t have any of your fancy French soaps.”

He lets out a loud short laugh, like a happy little firecracker going off. “Wouldn’t expect you to, Snow. I doubt you’ve changed that much.”

“Heh, yeah.” I rub the back of my neck, which is getting very hot for some reason. I think I need to fix my fan.

Baz wobbles back towards me. He stands a bit too close, and now that things are calm, I notice how he smells. It’s a mix of liquor, irony blood, and the very faint, familiar scent of cedar and bergamot. Seven years later and I can’t forget that smell. I guess it’s burned into my brain forever. I’m not sure that I mind.

“Where’s the bathroom?” he asks, snapping me out of my olfactory induced daze.

“Oh, uh, down the hall and to your left. There’s towels in the cupboard.”

“Alright.” He sticks his hands in his trouser pockets, a very shy gesture I’m not used to seeing from him. “Thank you. Again. I’m saying that a lot tonight, wow.”

I chuckle and shrug. “I guess so. Now go wash off that awful blood please.”

“Aye aye, Mr.Snow.” He does a mocking little American salute with two fingers. I watch as he half skips his way to the bathroom, trying not to giggle at his ridiculous gait.

The bathroom door shuts, and I let out a long breath. My brain is still playing catch up. I need to sit, relax, just process all this shit. Once I organize my papers into semi-neat piles and close my laptop, I grab a cherry granola bar from the counter and collapse on the couch. I hear the shower turn on. I glance over at the clock. Bloody hell, it’s past 3am, and my enemy is taking a shower in my flat. Well, former enemy, I guess. We’re not fighting anymore. In fact, Baz is being really nice. It’s pretty damn great. I hope we can keep this up.

Cherry jumps onto the couch, startling me from my daze. She immediately curls up on my lap, purring happily. I chuckle as I pet her. Penny jokes that Cherry is my emotional support service cat. Honestly, she’s not wrong. I don’t know what I would do without her.

“Wanna watch Dr. Who, darling?” I coo, scratching behind her ear. “Yes, yes you do.”

I grab the remote and turn on Netflix, going to one of my favourite episodes. We sit there in peaceful silence through the show. I try not to listen to the shower down the hall. I can’t help but worry. What if he slips and hits his head? What if he falls asleep and drowns? What if he tries to eat the bloody soap? All are strong possibilities. But he’s still Baz. He’s too smart and stubborn to die.

As I near the end of the episode, I realise it’s been half an hour since Baz went in. My heart beats double time, every fear racing through my head. (As well as concern for my water bill.) But the sound of water shuts off, and I breathe a sigh of relief. I hear Baz’s unsteady feet pad around the tiled floor. But then there’s rattling and muffled swearing, and I’m on my feet immediately. Cherry meows unhappily and scuttles away.

“Sorry, girl,” I say as I speed walk to the bathroom. I knock on the wooden door. “Baz? You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” his muffled voice replies, but that’s followed by a loud bang. “Bloody fucking hell.”

“I’m coming in.”

“Snow, wait-”

I push the door open and immediately freeze. All the blood in my body goes straight to my face, turning it tomato red. Because Baz Pitch is standing in front of my medicine cabinet with nothing but a towel around his waist. His hair is soaked and messy, falling adorably in front his shocked face. His legs look strong enough to crush someone. Thin rivulets of water drip down his broad, bare chest. I watch them for a few long, drawn out seconds, completely frozen. In our time living together, Baz and I made a point to never see each other without clothes on. Did he even look close to this back at school? Did I just never notice?

“Um...” Baz says, breaking me out of my daze. I whip around, hand cupped over my eyes.

“Bloody hell, Baz!” I shout. “Give a guy some warning.”

“I would have if you hadn’t come bursting in!”

“Well, you took awhile in the shower, then I heard swearing. Excuse me for being concerned.”

“I’m grateful for your concern, Mr. Hero, though not for your usual brashness.”

“Just put some clothes on, please.”

“Very well.”

I listen to Baz shuffle and grumble as I assume he gets dressed. I resist the urge to turn around and check if he can get his legs into his trousers. I’m not sure how drunk he still is.

“You can turn around now, Snow.”

I slowly turn, and my face turns scarlet again. “Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?!”

“Because mine is covered in blood,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Which I guess it is, but still he’s not wearing a shirt. Why are my hands so clammy?

Baz starts sorting through the medicine cabinet. I frown in confusion. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for bandages.” He lifts his left hand, showing off his bruised, still slightly bleeding knuckles. “You got any?”

“Uh, yeah. I’ll get it, sit down on the toilet.”

Baz stumbles over and does what he’s told (for once). I grab the first aid kit from under the sink and sit next to him on the edge of the tub.

“Gimme your hand,” I say. Baz holds out his arm, fingers limp. I try not to look freaked out. His skin is black and blue and there are many cuts, still bleeding slowly. “Why are you still bleeding? It’s been like, an hour.”

“My blood alcohol content is high,” Baz replies. “Booze is a blood thinner. Means I’ll bleed more.”

“Oh. That makes sense. Thanks, Mr. Doctor.”

Baz chuckles, a soft smile playing on his mouth. “Dr. Grimm-Pitch will do.”

I laugh as well. I take a towel off the rack and pat his hand dry, then get the antiseptic.

“I just had a shower,” Baz protests.

“Don’t care. We need to make sure you don’t get an infection.”

“I’m fine.”

I pour the clear liquid on a sterile pad. “Still doing it.”

“I’m the doctor here, dammit.”

“The doctor who is still drunk off his arse after a bloody bar fight. So shut up.”

Baz frowns, but doesn’t protest. I lightly pat his cuts. He inhales sharply through his teeth and tries to pull away, but I grab his wrist, holding still.

“Don’t move,” I say.

“It hurts,” he whines like a toddler.

“Yeah, no shit. That’s what you get for getting in a bar fight, idiot.”

He grumbles, but doesn’t move again either. Once I’m satisfied all the cuts are clean, I use another pad to get them dry, then take out the bandages.

“You get injured a lot, Snow?” He’s smirking playfully, not a hint of malice. It’s much nicer than his smug arsehole face.

“No,” I chuckle. “But it never hurts to be prepared.”

“Especially if your former enemy shows up drunk and bleeding.”

Thoughts start racing through my head. Horrible, nervous thoughts. I stop wrapping his hand for a moment, but quickly start again. Unfortunately, Baz notices.

“Something on your mind, Snow?” he asks.

I chew on my bottom lip as I secure the bandage. I gesture for Baz to give me his other hand, and he does. I slowly pat on the antiseptic and he doesn’t move at all. Slowly, I look up, and I meet Baz’s deep sea eyes. He doesn’t look mad or annoyed, just concerned. So am I.

“Baz,” I sigh, “you’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met. And considering you’re a bloody doctor now, I doubt that’s changed. So I’m absolutely astounded at how you could get so drunk and end up in a bar fight.”

Baz’s thin lips press together, and I watch his throat bob in a gulp. He leans his elbow on the sink, propping his cheek on his fist. “Snow,” he says slowly, “what do you know about my mother?”

My blood turns ice cold. I stop with the bandage completely, just looking at Baz. “Uh, not much. I know she died a long time ago. And...it was at Watford...”

Baz nods slowly. “Yes, that’s what everyone knows. But what most people don’t know is that I was there.”

And now my heart completely stops. My mouth falls open slightly. Baz’s face stays completely neutral. “You...you were there?”

“Yeah.” He leans harder on his fist. “I was sitting with the rest of the kids in the Watford nursery. Suddenly a group of men with knives burst in. They started to come after the nannies and the children. But that’s when my mother showed up with her hunting rifle. My father insisted she have it for protection when he wasn’t there. She got all of the men immediately, including the one holding me. She hit him in the shoulder so he dropped me. Another man charged her while she was distracted, and she shot him in the chest, but not before...” Baz rubs his eyes and the bridge of his nose, like I do when I have a headache. “Not before he stabbed her in the neck. She bled to death in seconds.” He drags his hand down his face. “I fell unconscious after that. When I woke up, my father and aunt were tending to my wounds, and my mother was gone. I was young, it’s all a bit hazy, but I remember enough.”

I’m left in stunned silence. Baz doesn’t say anything either, just rubbing his head. He’s not crying, but he looks on the verge of tears. I don’t blame him. I can’t believe it, can’t believe Baz went through that and no one ever knew. It’s just terrible.

“Wow,” I finally say, “that’s...wow.”

Baz chuckles quietly. “Yeah, that about sums it up.”

“I never knew that happened...”

“No one did, Snow. All the gruesome little details were kept under wraps. It would’ve been terrible if anyone found out Natasha Grimm-Pitch died in such an undignified way that traumatized her heir.”

His voice is mockingly scathing, even with his slightly slurred speech. He’s a mix between furious and mournful. I don’t understand how he feels, but I don’t think I ever could. I may never have had parents, but that’s a far cry from watching your’s die.

“I don’t know how much it means, but I’m sorry that happened to you Baz.”

The corner of his lip quirks up into a small half smile. “Thanks, Snow.”

I start wrapping his hand again, and my brow furrows. “So, uh, what does this have to do with you getting drunk and fighting? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Baz takes a deep inhale through his nose, and lets out the air through his mouth. “My mother was killed twenty years ago today.”

“O-oh. That...yeah, that makes sense.”

“Mhm. I’ve lived with it for most of my life, but this anniversary hit me harder than I expected. I had my first day off in months, so after some mindless telly, I went to that bar. Gave the bartender my card and told her to keep the tequila coming. First mistake.”

“Second one was getting in a fight?”

“Yeah, definitely.” He flexes his bandaged hand. “It was just some arsehole looking for trouble. He kept prodding at me and shoving my shoulder until I snapped. I don’t even remember what he said. I was just so angry and sad and drunk. And that arsehole was right there” He groans loudly and rubs his head. “One of the dumbest things I’ve ever done.”

“Probably. But you made one good choice.”

“Oh?”

I finish bandaging his other hand and smile at his mopey face. “You called me.”

His mopeyness melts away as he lets out a breathy laugh. Our eyes meet, and his are glinting in a way I’ve never seen before. “Yeah, I guess that was a good idea.”

We smile at each other. Something tugs in my chest, something I don’t fully understand. I’ve never felt anything like this. Maybe I’m just overtired.

Baz flexes his bandaged hands. I put the first aid kit under the sink again. Baz stands and presses a hand to his bruised eye. hissing between his teeth. “Got any ice packs, Snow?” he asks.

“Oh, yeah,” I reply. “It’s in the kitchen, c’mon.”

We walk towards the kitchen. I open the freezer and pull out my reusable ice pack. Teaching a bunch of children can result in some bad headaches. I wrap it in a napkin and hand it to Baz. He presses it to his eye with clenched teeth. As he leans back against the counter, I remember he’s not wearing a shirt.

“Uh,” I say, “those jeans don’t look comfortable. I’ve got some spare pyjamas. Want me to get them?”

Baz nods. “Yeah, that would be good, thanks.”

“Alright, stay here.”

I go to my bedroom, wading through the laundry I have to do tomorrow to get to the dresser. It takes awhile for me to find something that will probably fit Baz. Damn his extra four inches, always so infuriating. I eventually pick out some trackies and a long Chicago Cubs shirt. It’s all I’ve got. I go back to the kitchen, and come upon a strange scene.

“Baz,” I say slowly, “what are you doing?

Baz looks up from the messy, cutlery covered counter, still pressing the ice pack to his eye. He lifts a plate with two pieces of bread, both half covered in marmite. “Making a marmite and cheese sandwich. You want half?”

His expression is so innocent, not a hint of the old malice I used to know. I let out a sigh. “Sure. Let me get the cheese.”

He grins and goes back to slathering on marmite. I pull my sliced sandwich cheese from the fridge. Hope Baz doesn’t mind cheap Tesco brand swiss. I bring the package to the counter, and Baz takes out a slice without even looking. Guess he’s not as snobbish about food as he used to be. He cuts the sandwich into two slightly lopsided triangles and swans out to my dining room. I follow behind with the pyjamas.

Baz sits in a chair, leaning back with his legs spread out. I sit across from him, placing the clothes on the table. Baz snatches it. It unfolds and his brows pull together.

“You a baseball fan now, Snow?” he asks.

I chuckle and shake my head. “Nah. Micah definitely is though.”

“Who?”

“Remember that American exchange student from fourth year?”

“The short nerd with large glasses?” His voice is muffled as he struggles to put on the shirt. Drunk Baz doesn’t get along with t-shirt holes.

“Yeah, that’s one way to describe him I guess. He and Penny started dating then and have been together ever since. She lives in America with him now.”

Baz’s eyes light up. “Oh, that’s wonderful. How is Bunce? I miss facing off with her in debate club.”

“She’s doing well. She’s got a job as an assistant professor in Chicago and loves American food. I just saw her a few weeks ago on vacation.”

“Marvelous. Tell her I say hello next time you speak to her.”

“Will do.” We both take one half of the marmite-cheese sandwich. Baz takes a huge bite, followed by a happy groan. I can’t tell if he’s drunk hungry or actually hungry. Probably somewhere in between. I take a bite as well. There’s far too much marmite, but it’s four in the morning. Right now anything tastes good.

Thinking of Penny makes me think of Watford. And something else, or more accurately someone else, pops into my head.

“Hey,” I say through the marmite, “you said you talked to Agatha earlier. How are you two still in contact? She cut off almost everyone after Watford. I didn’t start talking to her again until a year ago.”

Baz quickly chews and swallows. “Funny story there. I did a semester abroad in California and ended up in the same biology class as Agatha. It was extremely awkward at first. But once we sat down over coffee and sorted stuff out, we bonded very quickly. Similar upper class British family problems and expectations.”

“Oh. That’s makes sense I guess. It’s nice you guys talk.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty good.” He chuckles, mouth gummed with marmite. “The weirdest part was telling her I’m gay. I apologised for leading her on, and you know what she did?”

I lean over the table, genuinely enraptured. “What?”

“Laughed her fucking arse off for ten minutes straight.”

I snort so hard I nearly shoot sandwich out my nose. Baz throws his head back laughing. He’s so loud he might disturb my neighbours, but I don’t care. His laugh is too incredible.

“Just like that,” he giggles, calming down.

“So she wasn’t mad?” I ask.

“No, not at all. She admitted she wasn’t really into me. She was just rebelling against her parents. We both sympathised on that front.” He sighs and leans back even more. “That’s all I wanted at Watford, really. I was under so much pressure to be the perfect son. I seriously considered yelling ‘fuck it’ and doing whatever I wanted.”

I sigh too, putting my cheek against my palm. “Yeah, I understand that. Mr. Mage put a lot of pressure on me. He wanted to prove to the Watford board that scholarship students were worthwhile, and since I was Watford’s very first scholarship kid, I had to be perfect. Every time I got a low grade he would yell at me for an hour.”

“What a prick,” Baz grumbles.

I chuckle as I nod slowly. “Yeah, total prick. Watford wasn’t an easy place to be.”

Baz slowly lowers his sandwich, looking pointedly at the plate, and therefore not me. My heart speeds up. Did I say something wrong? Did I piss him off by accident? I do that a lot. And I definitely used to do that to Baz.

“What is it?” I ask.

“I don’t mean to pry,” he says carefully. “And maybe this is me still being pretty drunk. But...I saw something in your medicine cabinet.”

I squint, trying to think what could be so concerning. “Saw what?”

He fiddles with his still damp hair. It’s an old nervous habit I recognise from finals studying. “A bottle of citalopram. I’m a future psychiatrist, I know what that medication is usually for...”

My stomach drops out. I freeze with the sandwich still in my hand. “Oh,” I squeak.

“Yeah.” He leans closer, eyes round and sympathetic. “I’m sorry I looked. And...I’m sorry if I had any part in your need for it-”

“No no, Baz.” I shake my head, leaning forward as well. “You don’t have to. It’s not your fault, it’s not anyone’s in particular, really. It’s stupid chemicals misfiring in my brain. You’re a doctor, you know that.”

“Yes, of course I know that, Snow. But I also know my incessant arsehole behaviour for seven years probably didn’t help.”

I shrug, leaning back again. “Probably. And I bet me insulting you and punching you in the face all the time didn’t help your mental health either.”

He smiles and laughs again. He looks better when he laughs. “Okay, good point.”

“Exactly. So let’s agree neither of us need to apologise. We’ll let the past be the past, move on from here.”

“So you mean a truce?”

“Yeah, I guess.” I reach out my hand. “Truce.”

Baz smiles and clasps his hand with mine. His skin is just as rough and cold as I remember it being back at school. But even after we pull apart, my skin still feels warm.

“Just so we’re even,” Baz says with his mouthful, “my favourite antidepressant was cipralex. I went off it a few months ago because it started making me too drowsy, but it worked well for years. Citalopram made me far too ill. When I first tried it, I ended up vomiting in a bloody bedpan.”

I burst out laughing. And Baz’s grin outshines the sun.

We finish our sandwiches together. Baz complains that his mouth tastes like a rubbage heap. Apparently the combination of old tequila, Tesco cheese, and marmite creates a truly awful flavour. I give him an unused toothbrush from the dentist. He goes into the bathroom and soon emerges with clean teeth and wearing my trackies. I’m back on the couch with Cherry in my lap.

“You tired?” I ask.

“Not really,” Baz replies. “Late hospital shifts have turned me into an insomniac.”

“Wanna watch some Dr. Who?”

He throws himself down next to me, long arm stretched out over the back of the couch behind me. “Sure.”

I switch to a new episode. It’s a standalone, so Baz won’t be too confused. But he still asks incessant questions. Who’s this, what’s that, how the everloving fuck can they do that and survive? No wonder he’s a doctor. He’s perfect at looking for answers, no matter how annoying he is. Eventually I have to threaten to duct tape his mouth to get him to shut up. He huffs, crosses his arms, and sinks down further.. His head ends up on my shoulder. Despite my shorter neck length and Baz’s naturally long face, his head fits perfectly in the crook of my neck. Like it was made to be there. Wait, where did that thought come from?

The credits roll, and I notice a quiet whistling noise. I turn my head to the side. Oh. Baz is asleep. His eyes are softly closed and his lips are slightly parted. I’ve seen Baz sleep before of course, but this is different. Baz had nightmares throughout our entire time at Watford. (So did I.) I don’t think he’s having one now though. There’s no thrashing or whimpers. I’ve never seen Baz look so...peaceful.

“Baz,” I whisper. He doesn’t respond at all. “Baz,” I say louder, jerking my shoulder a bit.

“Ugh,” he groans, “let me sleep in, Daphne, it’s summer.”

“I’m not your step-mum, Baz.”

He cracks one eye open. “No, you’re really not, Snow.”

“Yeah. You wanna go to bed?”

“Mm, yeah.”

“Okay.” I slowly get up, easing Baz off my shoulder. I gently lower him onto the couch. The bottom half of his face hangs off the arm. Yeah, he’s going to need a pillow. I go to my bedroom and grab a pillow and blanket. I also make a stop by the bathroom for some aspirin and make another at the kitchen for some water and a bowl, in case he’s sick. I would prefer not to clean vomit out of my carpet.

Baz is still awkwardly pressed against the sofa arm, drooling slightly. Who would’ve thought I’d see the day Baz Pitch drooled in his sleep? I wouldn’t have. Not in a million years. But apparently tonight is a time for new things.

I place the bowl, water, and aspirin on my coffee table. Slowly and carefully, I lift Baz’s head and fit a pillow under it. I drape the blanket over his annoyingly tall body. His arm hangs like a limp noodle off the side. I sigh, kneeling down to tuck it back in.

Out of nowhere, I feel long, rough fingers touching my cheek. My whole body locks up in shock. Slowly, I raise my head, and I meet Baz’s half open grey eyes and soft smile.

“Uh, Baz?” I say, not sure what else I can.

“You’re still so beautiful,” he whispers. My eyes widen and every nerve in my body is filled with...something? Fear, nerves, an absolute sense of what the fuck? I can’t tell.

“W-What?”

Baz’s hand moves lower. His thumb traces just under my bottom lip. Why does my skin feels like it’s fire? “Your face, it’s still really pretty.”

I let out a nervous chuckle. “Uh, I guess you’d know. You punched it enough.”

He laughs softly. His hand falls, pulling back under the blanket, and his eyes slip shut. “Wish I had kissed it instead.”

I don’t even have time to respond to that, because Baz is asleep in an instant, snoring quietly once again. I’m frozen in place. My jaw is slack. Baz would tell me I’m going to catch flies. Baz, who’s sleeping right in front of me, who wished he had kissed me? My brain can’t process this. I’m like a computer with an eternal blue screen. This does not compute, cannot compute, fuck fuck fuck.

There’s only one thing I can think to do.

I grab my phone, rush to my room, and close the door. Cherry is already curled up on her side. The second I’m sitting on the mattress, I click Penny’s contact.

“Hello?” Her voice immediately calms me down.

“Hi, Pen,” I say.

“Simon?! Bloody hell, isn’t it like four in the morning in London?”

I look over at my clock. “Uh, yup, just about.”

“I don’t mean to be rude, but why are calling me at four AM?”

I sigh and flop backwards. “Pen, you’re not going to believe who is sleeping in my living room right now.”

“Who? The Doctor? Boris Johnson? The Queen of England>

A laugh bubbles from my mouth. “Nah, even weirder.”

I can almost hear Penny’s face pinching together in confusion. “Who?”

“Baz Pitch.”

She gasps loudly. “What?! As in Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch? That Baz Pitch?!”

“You think there’s another Baz Pitch in existence?”

“Yeah,” she sighs, “good point. So why is your arsehole former roommate sleeping on your couch?”

I rub the bridge of my nose. It doesn’t help. I’m not sure anything can help now. “That’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time.”

I sigh, and start spinning my insane tale. From the call to the bar to my flat, how Baz and I talked and became friendly and made a weird truce over cheese and marmite. I try to say everything quickly yet accurately. Penny barely makes a noise as I talk. I can’t tell if she’s shocked or contemplative. Probably both, honestly. I can’t blame her. The more I talk, the more completely nuts it all sounds. I’m living in a bloody sitcom.

“And then,” I say, “he held my face, said I was beautiful, and that he wished he had kissed me instead of punching me!”

“Wow,” Penny gasps. “That’s...a lot.”

“I know right? I’m so confused and I have no idea what the fuck to do!”

“Okay. What do you want to do though?”

I rub my very aching brow. “I don’t know, Pen. It’s so weird. Like, is this something he’s just realised or has Baz always felt this way?”

“Probably the second one.”

I bolt upright, brows knitted together. “Wait, really? You think so?”

“Yeah, actually.”

“But why?!”

“Well, Baz has always been very obsessed with you. He would go out of his way to be around you.”

“Yeah, to torment me,” I grumble.

Penny lets out a sigh. “Yes, he did. But as you told me, Baz said he picked on you because he couldn’t deal with his emotional issues. One of those issues certainly could have been romantic feelings for you.”

“Then why didn’t he just say something?!”

“Because he was the gay son of a conservative upper class British family, which probably wasn’t easy to deal with. Plus, his father and aunt hated the idea of scholarship students, also known as you.”

My righteous anger fizzles out like a dying campfire, shoulders slumping as I fall back against the headboard. “Oh. Yeah, that’s a good point. Still shouldn’t have been a snob and a bully.

“No he shouldn’t have. It was probably half poor coping and half trying to get your attention.”

“Like a boy pulling a girl’s pigtails?”

“I guess.”

“That’s a stupid and sexist way to handle a crush. I tell my students that all the time.”

Penny sighs. “Yeah, of course it is. But I’m pretty sure Baz knows that, at least now. He’s sorry for what he did. It seems like he’s gotten a lot better.”

“Yeah.” A smile creeps across my face without thinking. It just feels natural. “He’s gotten a lot nicer. He’s not the perfect, pretty, unfeeling arsehole I thought he was. And he’s funny, at least when he’s drunk. We had a pretty great time .”

I laugh quietly, but Penny’s is far louder. She sounds like she’s muffling her giggles. I frown a bit. “What’s so funny, Pen?”

“Oh,” she keeps giggling, “I think I’ve just realised something, and it’s hilarious.”

“Realised what?”

She takes a few deep calming breaths while my anxiety just climbs. “Simon,” she says kindly. This is the way she used to speak while explaining our complicated maths homework. “Hear me out, but I don’t think Baz is the only one who feels something.”

“Huh?”

“I think you have at least a few romantic feelings for Baz.”

“What?!” I shout far too loudly, and I worry I’m going to wake up Baz. I crouch inward, like I’m hiding, but I’m not really sure what. Baz? Penny? Myself?

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I hiss.

“Hear me out,” Penny says. “I’m saying that based on the evidence, you may have latent romantic feelings for Baz Pitch.”

“What evidence?!”

Penny lets out a low chuckle, like a super villain who’s plan has come to fruition. “Let’s see. Number one: back at Watford, you spent 99% of your time thinking about, talking about, or being with Baz. I had to put a limit on how much you were allowed to talk about Baz, remember?”

“Yeah, because he was bugging me,” I mumble.

“Number two: when you talked about Baz, it was always about how annoyingly pretty, smart, and graceful he was. You hated him, yet you had so many nice things to say.”

“Well he was perfect and it was annoying!”

“Number three: During the entire time you dated Agatha, you paid far more attention to Baz than you ever did to her.”

“T-That’s not true!” Though, looking back...fucking hell, it might actually be true.

“Number four: even though you hadn’t seen him in seven years, you dropped everything at two AM to go pick up his drunk arse from a bar.”

“It was the right thing to do!”

“Number five: you just gushed about how much you like Baz now and that he’s fun to be around. And I bet you were smiling.”

“No.” I think my cheeks are turning red.

I hear some rustling, and I think Penny is leaning forward in her chair. I can almost see her kind face in front of me. “Simon, I don’t want to push anything on you, but I also want you to really think about this. I know you hate to analyse things but it’s necessary right now. Maybe it could lead to something good.”

I tug on my hair, trying to distract myself. “I don’t know about that, Pen.”

“I know. Doesn’t even have to be romantic, maybe a good friendship. You could use more friends. And I’m not saying you have to jump his bones tomorrow.”

“Penny!” Now I’m definitely blushing.

She laughs uncontrollably, snorting every once in awhile. I cover my blushing face and groan. “Oh, I’m only joking, Si,” she says. “But I’m serious, don’t shut it down. Think about it. Baz is nice now, maybe it could work.”

“Why are you so desperate to set me up with my former enemy?”

“Because you haven’t been on a date or made new friends since first year uni. And I haven’t heard you this happy about being around someone in years.”

I hate to admit it, but she’s right. I’ve had more fun with Baz in one night than I have in ages. I enjoyed talking to him. I enjoyed laughing with him. I’m glad he’s asleep in the next room, where I can make sure he’s okay.

“You may have a point,” I say.

“Of course I do.”

I roll my eyes, just like she does. “Yeah, yeah, we’ve always known you’re smarter than me.”

“Mhm. And in my smart opinion, you need to go to bed.”

“Will do.” I flop backwards. The pillow feels heavenly on my head. “Thanks, Pen. I’ll talk to you later.”

“You better. Night, Si.”

I smile, and I hope she can hear my love and gratitude over the phone. “Night, Pen.”

The phone clicks off. I let it fall to the side. I am 0.2 seconds from passing out, even with so much still on my mind. I plug in my phone and turn on my side. I pull Cherry close to me. She curls around my hand like usual. When I close my eyes, all I see is raven hair, deep sea grey eyes, and a smile I never knew was there before.

———————————————

“Bloody fucking shit!”

I wake up with a start, clutching my sheet. Late morning sunlight is bleeding through the gap in my curtains. There’s muffled banging on the other side of my door. It’s like a very clumsy little rhino is moving through my flat. But I know exactly who it is.

I grab my glasses and slowly walk down the hall, peeking around the corner. It’s weird to sneak around my own apartment. I see a familiar long, lithe back, bent over as he struggles to get his struggles to get his oxfords on. He keeps wavering side to side like a branch in the wind.

“Good morning,” I say nonchalantly.

Baz whips around so fast he nearly topples over, stumbling to the side. He looks even more disheveled than last night, hair extremely tangled from sleeping on it wet, bruise worsening under his eyes, and bloodstained shirt buttoned wrong. He looks absolutely shocked to see me, which is odd, considering this is my flat.

“Um,” he says, shakiness in my voice, “good morning, Snow.”

“Leaving so soon?”

“Uh, well, yes, I suppose.”

I lean against the wall with my arms crossed. “So you were going to go and what? Leave me a thank you note like some bad teen movie?”

He probably thinks I don’t notice, but I see him crumple up and shove something in his back pocket. “No. I-I would’ve texted you my thanks.”

“Because that’s so much better.”

Baz looks down in shame, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I know. It’s just...I didn’t want to make things awkward after last night. I’m truly sorry for the way I acted and imposing on you.”

“It’s okay.” I walk forward, hands in my trackie pockets. “I know you were pretty drunk, but, what do you remember from last night?”

Baz looks up, but still doesn’t meet my eyes. “I remember, being upset, going to the bar, getting in the fight, and the bartender screaming colourful obscenities at me.” That makes him laugh a little. It still sounds so nice. “Then I called you, you came and you had glasses. We drove to your place. I had a shower. You tended to my wounds like some war nurse.”

I giggle, nodding in complete agreement. “Yeah, I definitely did do that.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “Then uh, we ate sandwiches, watched Doctor Who, and I assume I fell asleep.”

“Okay.” I draw out the last syllable on purpose, making my doubt extremely clear. “That’s most of it, but you’re missing a few key parts.”

“Am I?” He’s trying to sound confident, but I know Baz, and I can hear a waver in his voice.

I start walking closer. “Mhm. You’re missing the parts where you apologized for being a prick in school, called my flat was good, liked my cat, said you drank because it was the anniversary of your mother’s horrible death, talked about your experience with antidepressants.” I’m only a few feet away from him now, looking him right in his pretty. “And, the part where you said that you wished you had kissed me back at school instead of punching me.”

With his complexion, it’s hard to tell when Baz is blushing. But I can see it. Scarlet creeps down from his cheeks to his long neck, eyes locked on me in stun.

“Oh,” he squeaks. “I see.”

“You really don’t remember all that?”

He rubs his brow. “Well, maybe, it’s just...fuzzy.”

“But was it true? Did you like me back at Watford?”

He visibly gulps, then looks at the floor again. He looks incredibly embarrassed and ashamed. “Yes,” he says, like he has to force himself to say it. “Yes, it’s true.”

I let out a long breath, half from relief, half to calm myself down. Okay. It’s true. Baz had feelings for me. All through school, all that time, Baz was pining after me from afar. And I never knew. Not a bit. But I think that was the idea.

“Alright,” I say.

Baz lifts his eyes slightly, cocking one eyebrow. “Alright? Is that all you have to say?”

I shrug high then drop my shoulders low. “I don’t know what else to say. That’s all. It changes a lot of things I assumed in school.”

“I bloody well hope so.” His voice is lighter, trying to lift the mood, trying to make this even slightly less than horribly awkward.

“So,” I say drawing out the o, “when, uh, did it start? You feeling like...that.”

If Baz’s blush could get any worse, I think it just did. He plays with his sleeves, his buttons, his hair, obviously looking for a distraction. “I realised it when I was 15. But I think, it started almost since we met.”

That hits me hard. The first year we met, I wore ratty old clothes and was essentially nonverbal. Baz saw me like that, a dirty silent little orphan kid, and he already liked me. He didn’t show it, but only because he couldn’t. He cared about me, even then. Even when so few truly did.

“Huh,” I say stupidly. “That’s a long time.”

He lets out a scoffing chuckle. “No shit, Snow.”

“That makes me feel even more sorry for being a prick to you in school.”

Baz shakes his head very quickly. “No, no, don’t apologize. I was a prick to you first. I just...” he sighs, rubbing his forehead. “In my family, I wasn’t supposed to be gay, let alone have feelings for someone they hated. I lashed out and hurt you because I was hurting. It was wrong.”

He sighs and sits down heavily on the couch. He looks so forlorn and ashamed, head hanging forward, his hair like a curtain. All the guilt seems to be pushing down on his shoulders, making him slump. Penny was right, as usual. But to hear it from Baz, to see him like this, it tugs on my heart. Like that time I caught him drunk in front of his mother’s grave when we were fifteen, or twice last night. He’s grown a lot and gotten happier, but a small part of Baz is still that sad kid, I guess.

Slowly, I walk towards him and sit down. Before I can think too much, I reach out and touch his hand. Baz’s head snaps up, completely terrified and shocked. Yet, he doesn’t pull away. One by one, I slip my fingers between his. Baz’s skin is such a strange contrast. My palm touches the smooth back of his hand, while fingers trace tiny rough ridges. It feels...really good.

“Hey,” I say quietly. “I know it’s been awhile, but what do you think about me now?”

I look him in the eye. I can see the way his lips shift, feel how his hand twitches. I wish I could hear what he’s thinking right now. He stays silent, so I decide to jump in.

“Well, let me start. I know what I think about you. I think,” I move closer, “that you’re kind, funny, smart, and still annoyingly gorgeous.” That makes his eyes widen ever so slightly. “And now I also know that you’re incredibly strong. That you struggled and mourned and came out okay. I mean, you’re a bloody doctor who’s going to help people work through their own problems. That’s amazing.”

Baz looks so shocked, probably both at my words and my coherency. I’ve gotten a lot better at speaking over the years. I’m so glad for that right now. “You really think all that, Snow?”

I smile and nod. “Yeah. I mean, I’ve always found you annoyingly amazing. Now it’s just not so annoying anymore.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. Is it so hard to believe?”

Baz presses his lips together for a split second. “Honestly, yes. We hated each other for years, fought like cats and dogs. I assumed I had ruined any chance of that changing.”

“Well,” I move even closer so our thighs press together, “you didn’t. Because I like this.”

“What is this?”

“This!” I gesture wildly between us. “What we’re doing right now. I like this, I like you.”

He looks so shocked, yet there’s a twinkle of happiness too. “Like me how? As...a friend?”

And he calls me oblivious. I squeeze his hand again. “That depends. I know it’s been a long time, so have your...feelings about me gone away?”

Baz stares at me, studying my face. I just watch his eyes roam over me again and again. Then he reaches forward and delicately places his hand on my cheek, just like last night. Except it feels more purposeful. And so much better.

“No,” he says quietly, “they haven’t gone away. I don’t think they ever could.”

My body feels so light and happy and indescribably full. I’ve never felt like this before. Not with anyone. It’s hit me so suddenly, yet it feels so right. I’m grinning, I can’t stop grinning.

“Okay,” I say. “I feel the same.”

Baz’s hand falls, touching my arm. He raises a perplexed eyebrow. “Okay, but since when?”

I shrug, which makes Baz roll his eyes. “I’m not sure. All I know is that I do. That’s what really matters, right?”

He sighs. His hand moves up and down my arm. I can’t tell if he’s studying me or trying to hold on. “I suppose, yes.”

“Exactly. So why don’t we give it a shot?”

“What are you saying, Snow?”

“I’m saying I want to be your boyfriend.” Baz’s lips falls open and hand slips slightly down my arm. I hold onto him tighter. “Like, fair warning, I’m not a great boyfriend. I forget things, I’m super clumsy, and I haven’t dated anyone seriously since Agatha, so my experience is limited. But I like you. And I’m not asking for something serious right now, I just want to give this a try. Do you maybe want to?”

Baz’s face is such strange, confusing mixture. His brows are tense and pulled together. They scream worry and doubt. His thin beautiful lips hang open is absolute disbelief. But his eyes, a mix of dark blue and dark green, are filled to the brim with hope.

“I’m a doctor,” he blurts out.

“Um, yeah, I know,” I reply, trying not to laugh.

He shakes his head violently. “No, you don’t understand. I’m a medical resident. I’m at the hospital almost every day. I have barely any free time, and if I do I use it to sleep. And I don’t have much experience either. I’ve had two semi serious relationships that both ended in flames. I’m terrible at everything relationship related, probably even more than you, Snow.”

Baz looks so frantic and scared, but he’s hanging on to my hand. In spite of harsh realities, he doesn’t want to let go. I think he’s expecting me to admit defeat and walk away. But what he doesn’t seem to get, is that I don’t want to let go either.

I move closer, and cup his face this time. Baz instinctively leans into it. “You called me Simon before.”

He lets out a bursting laugh, sudden and unwanted. He immediately calms down, but there’s a little smile there. “Really? That’s what you care about?”

“Yeah. Because I like hearing you say it, and I like this. So,” I squeeze his hand again, “I want to try, no matter the risks. We’ll just deal with the rest later.”

He gives me a doubtful expression. “That’s your solution? Put off thinking about the problems we may face?”

“Yup. Because I want this, you want this, and that’s all that matters.”

“I guess...”

Stupid bastard still overthinks everything. I don’t want his mind far away, I want it right here with me. I brush my thumb over the soft skin of his cheek. “Plus, I’d rather focus on other things right now.”

“Oh? What things?”

“Well, more a question.” I deliberately move my hand lower, tracing under his bottom lip. “You said you wished you had kissed me when we were in school.”

He gulps. I watch his Adam’s apple bob slowly. “Yes, I did.”

“So, do you still want to kiss me?”

His eyes flick down, just for a moment. I can feel his hot breath on my face. “Yes.”

I smile, leaning close so our noses brush. “Then do it.”

Baz doesn’t ask for anymore assurance. He just leans forward, pressing his mouth to mine. And my mind completely implodes.

His lips are colder than Agatha’s, than anyone’s really. It’s like kissing a soft autumn breeze. Just chilly enough to send shivers over your skin. Yet when he takes my bottom lip between his teeth, I melt completely, leaning closer and wrapping my arms around his neck. He clutches my sides, hanging on with a death grip. Like he never wants to let me go. (I wouldn’t mind that.) It’s an awkward position, but I couldn’t care less anymore. I run my hand through his hair. It’s soft and slips through my fingers, just like I thought it would. I clench my fist and push his face into mine. I more feel him groan than hear it. He bunches my shirt in his own fists. I like him here, under my hands, not off being sad or drunk, where I know he’s okay. I’ve got you know, Baz, I’m not letting go.

From that first press of our lips, I know I want this. Baz feels perfect and wonderful. I want to kiss him forever. It’s strange, to have something you never knew you wanted before, and suddenly need to hang onto it forever.

We both pull apart at relatively the same time, flushed and out of breath. Baz’s eyes flutter open. His pupils are blown incredibly huge, and his lips are swollen and pink. I think mine are too, at least it feels like they are. I’ve never felt so elated from just one kiss. I’m sure I never will again.

“Wow,” I breathe out.

Baz lets out a breathy laugh, so quiet and sweet. “Very eloquent.”

I chuckle too, twisting a strand of his hair. “Yeah, well, that’s all I can manage right now. I think you broke my brain.”

“Don’t stroke my ego too much, Snow. I’ll get a big head.”

“You mean a bigger one?”

Baz glares, but when I flash one grin, his entire face melts. My heart melts too. It’s in a goddamn puddle on the floor forever.

Baz presses one hand to his temple, eyes squinting shut. “Bloody hell, all the drinking and excitement is too much for my head.”

“Did you take the aspirin I left?”

“Yes, but apparently that only does so much. I want coffee.”

“I’ve got some. Probably not very fancy, but it’s good enough. That alright?”

He flashes a lopsided grin. It’s incredibly sweet, making me smile in return. “That would be wonderful, Simon.”

God, I want to hear him say my name like that a thousand times.

We reluctantly untangle ourselves, but our hands stay linked. I lead Baz to my tiny dining room table. He sits on the far side, facing the open space of my kitchenette. My hand drags across his as we reluctantly let go. I walk into the room and flip on my ancient coffee machine.

“How do you take your coffee?” I say over my shoulder. “Black?”

“Actually, I like a lot of cream and sugar.”

I laugh loudly and smile at him. “Still have a sweet tooth, huh?”

“Absolutely.”

“Of course. I still remember how you would steal my mint aeros.”

“You have no proof of that, Snow,” he singsongs.

His voice is light and joking. I look over my shoulder, and see his soft smile. I want to see that smile all the time. I want to find out every little happy expression he has, the ones I never got to see when we were kids.

“I’ll find some,” I reply..

“It’ll take a lot of coaxing.”

I lean against the counter, looking at him. Really looking at him. Baz Pitch, the former arsehole bully, now the mostly well adjusted altruistic doctor, still someone who can occupy most of my thoughts. This is all new yet so familiar.

“Good thing we’ve got time,” I say.

Baz leans his cheek on his palm. From his calm, happy expression, I know he agrees. We’ve got time to not just catch up, but start something strange and beautiful and new.

And I’ve never been so excited in my life.

———————————————

AN: Is this a bit unrealistic? Yes. Is this super adorable? Also yes. Hope you guys thought the same. I def enjoy writing drunk Baz and switching it up so Simon has glasses this time. And I like Simon's total obliviousness to his own feelings. He's a dumb romantic little shit lol. Thanks for reading, see y'all next time :D

PS: XOYO is a real bar. Hopefully they don't have to deal with drunk traumatized psychiatry residents too much lol.

#carry on #snowbaz #simon snow #baz pitch #penelope bunce #normal au #reunion #enemies to friends to lovers #getting together #mysnowbazfic

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izzy-b-hands · 5 years

Text

Aten Pt. 1

More random Ahk fic. I gave him a bf (again, because I can’t help myself, if I can’t find anyone he’s gonna at least) and we get nsfw so hold on to ur hats folks. A reminder that in my canon, Ahk is 21 (I know the movie says he’s younger but gosh darn it I just don’t believe that. He does not look or act that young to me okay. I remember being as young as they claim he is, he would need to act much sillier/stupider to be that young, but I digress. Here in Lee’s fanon land, he’s 21.)

Interspersed some themes from the opera Akhnaten, and talk about it in the fic, hence the title (the name for the sun disk deity/sort of technically an aspect of Ra but whatever that’s a lot of history to sum up right here worshipped by the pharaoh Akhnaten.)

Breaking this into parts, because this is getting longer than I anticipated lol.

ANYWAY

fic below the cut as per usual

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

He rose at the usual hour, expecting the soft lights of his exhibit, always on thanks to Larry.

It was pitch black, except for the soft glow of the emergency lights out in the hall. As he fumbled his way through the rest of the museum, grateful for the few emergency lights. He expected the exhibit spaces would be empty, and everyone else would be as confused as he was.

But everyone was in their usual exhibits, not a sign of life in them. Nothing woke them, not any of his shouting or poking or prodding.

“If this a joke, then know that I do not like it!” Ahkmenrah shouted to the apparently empty museum.

It was eerie as he walked quickly from one hall to the next, no sound but the swish of his cloak and the padding of his sandals on the tile floor.

Finally, he heard Larry’s voice, calling out for someone, anyone to answer.

“Where have you been?” he scolded as he ran to the main hall, where Larry was stood near the front desk, looking as puzzled as could be.

“I slept through my alarm, my bad,” Larry replied. “Is this uhh...a prank or did I piss everyone off, or...”

“I don’t know. I’ve tried waking everyone, at every exhibit I’ve gone by, and nothing has worked. If this is a prank, they are very dedicated to it,” Ahkmenrah replied.

Without warning, Larry screamed, as loud as he could.

Ahkmenrah stared at him, wincing at the sound. “What on earth was that for?”

Larry shrugged. “Thought it might rouse somebody. But I don’t think anyone’s awake. Which is weird, because then how are you...”

“I don’t know. Something’s wrong,” he replied.

They were of one mind then, down the halls and back to Ahkmenrah’s exhibit to check on the tablet.

“Ah,” Ahkmenrah sighed. “Look. One of the panels is wedged, someone must have tried to turn it. You think it being this high up would mean no one would try and touch it.”

He carefully tried to moved the panel back, but it was stuck tight. “I’ll need tools to move it without damaging it. The restoration expert’s tools are what i’ll need, if you can get them.”

Larry winced. “He’s at a set of conferences, for the next two weeks. Took his things with him too. I have that memo somewhere; he said in it just to leave things in need of repair in his office.”

“With all due respect to him, I’d rather repair this on my own once he’s back, and you can borrow his tools for me at night,” Ahkmenrah said as gently as he could. He knew that the restorer meant well, but he still would rather not have him touch the tablet if he could help it.

“So...that one being stuck must have changed the settings or whatever on this, right?”

Ahkmenrah nodded. “Apparently. With it moved, the magic only awakens me, not everyone else.”

They stood there awkwardly for a moment as Ahkmenrah set the tablet back in its place.

“Good night, I suppose,” he finally said, and waited for Larry to go.

“Oh. I mean...okay. If you want me to go, I can. But just because everyone else is...asleep, we could say, doesn’t mean you have to stay in here alone. Unless you want to be alone, of course, then I’ll...go sit at the front desk and just...I don’t know, honestly,” Larry said with a shrug. “If you’d want to hang out, come help me keep an eye on things, I’d certainly welcome the company though.”

“That would be nice,” Ahkmenrah admitted. He’d figured Larry might not want him tagging around after him like a puppy dog, so it was a pleasant surprise to hear otherwise.

“C’mon then! We’ll talk, hang out, I’ve got snacks and your other clothes in my locker, if you want them,” Larry said, leading the way out of the exhibit.

With the lights still off, it was eerie walking about, the museum feeling almost too bit. Larry seemed to feel the same, if the nervous chewing of his lip was anything to go by.

“So. Must have been scary, waking up in here all alone like this,” Larry said as they walked to the employee lounge. “Not that you couldn’t handle being alone in here, I mean, I wasn’t implying-”

“Actually, that was my worst nightmare come true,” Ahkmenrah interrupted. “I was so glad to hear your voice, to not be alone in here anymore. If I had no other option but to be alone...I suppose I’d have simply stayed in my exhibit area.”

“Well, I promise I will be on time every day for the next two weeks, so no more waking up alone,” Larry replied with a smile. “After you change, should we go put some music on the PA system? Too quiet in here without something on, or people in here.”

“I’d like that. You have something in mind?”

“An opera. I figure if there’s anyone who’ll listen to it with me, it’ll be you,” Larry said.

“Opera? I didn’t expect you to be that sort of man,” Ahkmenrah said.

Larry shrugged. “Not my normal thing, but I like this one. About a pharaoh, actually, by Philip-”

“Glass,” Ahkmenrah finished. “I know the opera, and I do like it. You go put it on, I’ll join you in a moment.”

He changed quickly as Larry went to the main desk. It was turning out better than expected, spending time with just Larry. Who knew how else he might surprise him.

He went to the main desk, and found the conversation flowed easily now while the opera played, echoing through the halls. About the opera (both of them wished to see it performed live) to the museum, to the city itself.

“I know you’d love to get out and see more of it,” Larry said. “I want to make that happen more, but the others-”

“I understand,” Ahkmenrah stopped him with a raise of his hand. “Not all of them can go out and pass on the streets in modern clothes, and they get understandably jealous about it. Any night you can offer me is a gift; I treasure them all.”

Larry nodded. “Y’know though, I could bring someone to meet you, Ahk. About your age, a regular here, stays so late I’ve had to ask him to go so he doesn’t see all of you wake up! But he’s a great kid, studying to work in Egyptology. He claims he only comes to your exhibit every other week for that research but-”

Larry laughed. “You’d love him. He asks about you all the time. ‘What do you think he was like, what did he look like, surely Ahkmenrah must have been wonderful.’ I have to bite my tongue not to tell him he could just meet you and see. But now...maybe I could.”

“You think he could keep it a secret? About me...” Ahkmenrah asked.

“I do,” Larry replied. “Here, let me show you him.”

He pulled out his phone, and showed a picture to Ahkmenrah. “There’s me, of course, your sarcophagus in the background, and that’s Tristan.”

His breath caught in his throat. He was cute, reddish-blondish hair and a sweet smile, and soft brown eyes anyone could get lost in. And for a moment, lost he was.

“Ahk? You good?” Larry’s chuckle brought him back.

“Yes, of course, um-” he stuttered. “He looks to be a very-”

“Cute?”

“I...I mean I’ve never said-”

“I know,” Larry said, and smiled. “But you just stopped breathing for a good minute, and you’re blushing red as a tomato. Kinda gave yourself away, buddy. And don’t worry, half the time he can’t stop talking about how beautiful he presumes you were. Especially after his last break up, with some guy named Jeremy. He was in here every day for a week straight, in your exhibit, crying or trying not to cry. Said being near you and your exhibit made him feel better.”

His heart was beating entirely too fast to be reasonable, and he scolded himself. “The poor thing. Was it recent?”

“Nah. Good year back now. Why? Are you wanting this first meeting to be a-”

“Date? That would be entirely too forward of me to ask for that,” Ahk said, then bit his tongue. “I mean, unless he’d...I don’t know, I-”

“Awww,” Larry said softly. “Tell you what. I’ll see if he can come with me tomorrow night. Let him in on this, that it has to stay a secret, or he can’t come. Not that anyone would believe him if he told anyone but, still. And you two can meet, and if sparks fly...well, there’s the couch in the lounge...”

“Larry!” he said sharply, but his mind lingered at the thought. Would it be much too much on a first meeting? Probably, but he couldn’t help but think of it.

“I’m just saying,” Larry laughed. “Whatever happens, you two have that space to sit and talk or...anything else you can think up.”

He could only nod, as he thought of Tristan’s face, and the glimpse of Tristan’s hands, lovely hands, that had been in the picture Larry had shown him.

Blessedly, Larry let the conversation drift to the snacks he’d brought with him for the night, and they ate and talked of other unimportant things for the rest of the night.

“Time to pack it in,” Larry said as he cleaned the desk. “You want me to walk you back?”

“I’ll be alright. I’ll go change and head in. Thank you for tonight Larry, for everything.”

He left quickly then, as he thought of him again, and did so all the way through changing and settling back into his sarcophagus. Trying to memorize the cute face in the picture, so it was the last thing on his mind before the morning sun crested.

****

The next night, he was up and out of his sarcophagus before Larry would arrive. Normally, he’d wait, but he couldn’t tonight. He had a good impression to make, after all.

Even with his careful dressing and primping before he went to the main desk, it was still a short wait until he finally heard Larry’s voice, and a new voice, coming down the hall.

“I can keep a secret,” the new voice said, deep but not too deep. Like a ray of afternoon sunshine, Ahk thought. Strong enough to warm one, but soft enough to fall asleep under. “I just...man, if this is real. Wow. Should I bow, or kneel when I see him?”

“Just act normal,” Larry laughed. “Yes, he’s royalty, but he’s very...chill. And excited to meet you too.”

Larry smiled as they approached the desk. “And there he is! Ahk, Tristan. Tristan, Ahk.”

He left the desk to approach them, and immediately Tristan fell to one knee.

“Oh no, you don’t have to,” Ahk said, and rushed over to pull him back up. “I mean, that is sweet of you. But it’s alright. Here.”

He took off his crown, and handed it to Larry before ruffling a hand through his curls. “Better? The crown is...imposing. And a bit heavy.”

Tristan was bright red, and suddenly grabbed his hand and kissed it. “You’re still a pharaoh though.”

“True, but not in this time. I’m just...me,” he replied, even as his heart beat at the contact of Tristan’s lips to his skin.

“I’m gonna go about things,” Larry said. “You two head on to the lounge. I’ll put this away for you, okay Ahk?”

He nodded, but his eyes never left Tristan’s.

“...okay then,” Larry said. “You kids have fun.”

As Larry walked away, Ahk led Tristan to the lounge.

“You need not walk behind me,” he said as they went, noticing Tristan apparently working to stay just behind him.

“But you’re-”

“Ahk. A new friend, who’d love to have you walk beside him,” he interrupted softly, and gestured for Tristan to come forward.

He could have screeched with joy as Tristan trotted up to be beside him. It was wonderful and sweet and made even better when they reached the couch and, thanks to how small it was, ended up as close as could be.

They were silent for a moment, then Tristan giggled.

“Gosh. You’re him! You’re more beautiful than I expected.”

Immediately, Tristan blushed again, and it was Ahk’s turn to giggle.

“Larry showed me a picture of you, last night. But you’re even more beautiful in person.”

“Oh, gosh I’m nothing compared to you though,” Tristan stuttered.

“You shouldn’t say that,” Ahk replied, and tucked a stray piece of Tristan’s hair behind his ear. It wasn’t horribly long, just a bit near the ears, and that those pieces kept popping forward was utterly adorable. “You’re handsome. Even your name is beautiful.”

“I’ve always hated it,” Tristan sighed. “It literally means ‘sad’, or at least one translation of it does.”

“That may be, but you shine brighter than the meaning of the name. We could give you a nickname, if you’d want something happier.”

“That would be...so cool!” Tristan said. “I mean, my mom calls me Stan, but I don’t like that either.”

Ahk bit back a frown. This man was certainly not a ‘Stan.’ “You remind me of the sunlight. The whole museum seems brighter with you in it. I could call you Aten.”

He didn’t think Tristan could blush any deeper, but he did. “But that’s...a deity, I mean at least he’s associated with the sun and Ra, and I am not-”

“A god? No, but if dying and living again has taught me anything, it is that none of us are. But we may bear the similarities of them, as you bear the brightness and warmth of the sun. If you would rather I not call you that-”

“No, you can, I mean...it makes me feel special. And I’m nothing special, but it’s...it’s nice to feel special,” Tristan, his Aten, interrupted gently.

This was too forward, Ahk knew it was, but Aten seemed to feel the same. And there was no harm in addressing the elephant in the room.

“I want to get to know you better. But, we both seem rather distracted by the...shall we say physical side of things.”

Aten, and though Tristan was a beautiful name, he did seem more an Aten the more Ahk used it, even in his head, nodded. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you since I got here. I thought the kiss on the hand would calm me down, because I mean, c’mon, we’re just meeting and I am not normally that sort of guy, but this has been just...magnetic and I want to get to know you too, but if you feel the same and it would be easier to talk if we get things out of our system, and-”

Ahk softly grabbed Aten’s face in his hands. “Could you just kiss me?”

And there was the afternoon sun again, in Aten’s lips and hands and hips as he pulled him close and back with him onto the couch. He heard Larry’s footsteps and the closing of the lounge door, but paid it no mind.

It was frenzied for all of a moment, before Aten stopped and hissed. “Your clothes...I can’t imagine trying to restore them, I should be careful.”

“Hold on,” Ahk said, and carefully moved from under him. Without a second thought, he pulled his sweatshirt and sweats from Larry’s locker, and changed.

It was only after he was done changing, his usual garb safely folded and set on the table in the lounge that he realized he had accidentally stepped way over the line of forward, though Aten’s face was a happy one.

“Should I have just left them off?” he asked with a smile as he returned to his spot beneath Aten.

“I...I’ve just never seen you...sweats, it’s different, not bad just...” Aten’s head dropped to Ahk’s shoulder, and he pulled him close again, running his hands over Aten’s back.

“Not very regal, but comfortable,” he said. “And on the nights Larry lets me out to explore, I have to blend in, so...these.”

Aten seemed stuck, his head lifted again, but those gorgeous brown eyes simply glued to his.

“Come. Kiss me again. We’ll talk later tonight, or tomorrow, if tonight proves too busy,” he smiled, and traced Aten’s lips with one of his fingers before pulling him gently down by the chin for another kiss.

Logically, he knew the night would have to end, but he didn’t want it to. It was too good, all of this. Aten warm in his arms, stripping him of his sweatshirt before pulling off his own shirt, their hips grinding as they kissed. He could not say all what he would do just to have Aten’s hands stay on him as they were now, moving to every bit of bare skin they could reach, toying with the waistband of his sweatpants, but he knew it was a great deal.

An alarm beeped on Aten’s watch, and he broke their kiss to look at it. “Fuck. We have half an hour left. Larry said the sun-”

“I know,” Ahk replied. “A half hour is plenty of time to end this the way I think we’d both like it to.”

It wasn’t enough time to do everything he might have been hoping for, but it was enough time to keep kissing Aten, to have him leave marks on his neck that he prayed would not fade by the time he awoke the next night, even after his body changed for the morning. Enough time to moan loudly enough at the increased pace of it all, the friction of their hard cocks against each other, kept apart only by the fabric of Ahk’s sweatpants and Aten’s boxer briefs (he’d barely been able to focus enough to undo the button and zipper of Aten’s jeans, but he was so glad he had.) Enough time to leave a mark of his own, a gentle nip at Aten’s neck that made him whimper and whine so loudly he knew Larry must have heard it. But he didn’t care, had only one thing on his mind.

Just before the second alarm on Aten’s watch beeped, he let himself go, moaning, his cum hitting his stomach and Aten’s as the waistband on his sweatpants had shifted. Aten followed a moment later, kissing him so hard as he came that he saw stars.

As they lay there, still wrapped in each other, there was a knock on the door.

“Um. I hate to break up the...well. But we’ve got three minutes, Ahk, so-”

Aten kissed him one last time, then pulled himself up and off the couch. “Come on. I’ll help clean you up before we dress you, let me get-”

“Leave it,” Ahk said softly. “It won’t matter anyways, after the sun rises. I want it on me for now. A reminder.”

Aten kissed him again, but Larry’s insistent knocking interrupted it.

“Tomorrow night?” Ahk asked softly as he changed.

“Definitely,” Aten replied with a grin. “Maybe we can even talk tomorrow.”

“Of course.”

“And maybe, keep the door shut again...I mean, in case we need a break, from talking, or...that sounds so bad, probably, but...”

Ahk smiled, and dashed from the door to him to kiss him deeply again. “Not bad at all. We can do both. Till tomorrow night.”

He had to run to his exhibit, and was barely in his sarcophagus when the heavy feeling of death came over him again.

But it had been worth it, so worth it. He couldn’t wait for the next night.

#text post #LeeH writes #NATM fic #ahkmenrah fic

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makeste · 5 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 234: Tomura Flashbacks and Giganto ex Machia

Previously on BnHA: Re-Destro lost his temper and hulked the fuck out and started breaking off Tomura’s fingers like a goddamn Kit-Kat bar. Elsewhere, (1) Twice cloned Toga in order to give her a blood transfusion, unaware that Skeptic was heading their way; (2) Spinner’s quirk of being a Gecko Man was revealed and he attempted to wall-crawl his way over to Hanabata only to be assailed by a bunch of redshirts fired up by Hanabata’s Trumpet quirk; (3) Dabi continued to battle Snoopy Sno-Cone Machine offscreen (I assume); (4) Compress was also probably doing something but who can be sure; (5) Giran was running off to safety with one of the clone Twices, and finally, (6) Gigantomachia Goron-rolled his way towards the action while Slidin’ Go stood there nervously, probably sensing that his number is coming up on the great cosmic roulette wheel. All of this happened two whole weeks ago because the manga was on break last week! But it’s finally back now, so leeeEET’S geeet ready to rrrruuuuUUUUUUUUMMMMMBLE.

Today on BnHA: RD continues to get handsy with Tomura until Tomura starts to disintegrate one of RD’s own fingers to see how he likes it. He does not, in fact, like it, so he flings Tomura away and starts thinking all of these shocked antagonist thoughts about how Tomura is stronger than he expected and his powers are ~awakening~ and blah blah blah. Meanwhile Tomura hops back onto the Flashback Train to Feels City and recalls how AFO gave him his family’s severed hands to make sure he stayed good and pissed!! And he also remembers more about his sister and how much she loved him! And his mom and grandparents who were also super nice and are now fucking dead and it’s a lot! Horikoshi is pretty fucking ruthless! Anyway so RD decides he’d better go all out and wrap this up, but before he can deliver a killing blow, Gigantomachia finally makes his entrance. At the same moment, Tomura finally remembers “everything” (?? ???!?!?), which, holy fucking shit you guys.

(All comments are my unspoiled reactions from my initial readthrough of the chapter. I did a quick edit for grammar and clarity immediately afterward, and added one or two ETAs in the process, but aside from that there are no changes.)

okay so let’s see what gruesome things are in store for our intrepid villains this week

“destroyed memories” oh? come again? you don’t say?? fancy that?? goodness me???

so is this referring to Tomura? or Dabi? if it’s referring to Re-Destro or one of his gang, I swear to god...! nobody cares about your memories RD. you’re a jerk and you suck

lol what the

aww. is this a “real” in-universe children’s book, is that what this is. did all the lil U.A. dumplings read this when they were small. and was there also a similar book called “don’t judge people by their lack of quirks” and if so why did no one read it to lil baby Kacchan hmm

anyway now we’re cutting right back to this unpleasant image! and not only that, but in the two weeks we’ve been gone things have even escalated!

we’re up to two hands being grabbed now! um. he’s really going to need at least one of those? probably?? please don’t Overhaul my deranged villain son fffff

reminder that Tomura needs to touch something with all five fingers in order for his quirk to activate (or he did before at least), so even though he still has... two...? fingers remaining on his left hand, that hand is still effectively useless as far as quirking goes. so if he suffers even the smallest amount of damage to his right hand as well, it’s basically all over for him. unless he actually was using his quirk with his feet in the previous chapter. I’m assuming not because he presumably would have decayed his way all the way down to the center of the earth if that was the case. I think @khorale mentioned this in a comment on my last recap, but yeah, seeing as the ground’s not disintegrating underneath him, it’s safe to say it’s Hands Only here

anyway I got so caught up in being calmly horrified over the current situation that I didn’t even read the dialogue. so RD’s saying that superpowers are linked to personality, and so that “don’t judge people by their quirks” stuff is in fact bullshit

um, source? are you a psychologist? in general I try to take things with a grain of salt when they’re said by pieces of shit, so yeah

fffffffff noooooo Tomura’s face sob Horikoshi you bastard

he looks so freaking young here. okay, shit. I’m starting to think I need to make plans to unwind after I finish reading this chapter. maybe get an Enya playlist in the works. diffuse some essential oils. find some cute baby animal videos

but on the plus side, it’s looking ever more likely that his are indeed the Destroyed Memories in question omg. so I will continue to get hype while also feeling very guilty and stressed

you guys I’m actually really glad RD is feeling like he has the upper hand now, because he’s starting to waste some valuable time monologuing, and with every second he babbles on, Machia is getting closer and closer to whooping some ass

so he’s asking Tomura what he’s trying to create

and well, actually, he’s not really that far off

I mean. does it count as nothing if he wants to destroy the whole world? one could argue that would be “creating” a new world in which everyone is fucking dead. idk. I might have to give RD this one; his whole point of “quirks are linked to personality and you have a quirk that destroys everything you touch so you probably just want to destroy shit” is holding up surprisingly well to scrutiny thus far

yeah so now he’s yelling “YOU ONLY LUST FOR DESTRUCTION! AM I WRONG?!” and nope. but even a broken clock, twice a day, etc.

oh shit OH FUCKING --

um, okay, (1) NO IT’S NOT, SHE WAS A LITTLE GIRL, NONE OF YOUR HANDS BELONGED TO A CHILD YOU GULLIBLE RUBE

and (2) MY FUCKING FEELS. why am I even surprised. what the fuck. I knew more angst was coming and yet it still...

just, god. okay fine Horikoshi I’m a glutton for punishment, please continue then

HAHA SOB IT’S A WHOLE FUCKING FLASHBACK OKAY SURE LAY IT ON ME!!

this really is the wildest shit though you guys. I still can’t get over it. “hello little boy I’m sorry your family is dead but don’t worry I’m adopting you and here are all of their severed hands. with little plugs on the end too or some shit. just, you know. souvenir”

I can’t fucking believe AFO played this so straight. maybe that’s why it worked. it was just so fucking out there that Tenko wound up buying it hook line and sinker. “hmm, seems a bit shady, but then again why else would a strange man I met only yesterday just randomly up and give me a dozen severed hands”

I don’t know if any of this shit is important, but it’s probably good practice to just post every mysterious thing that AFO says

yes you really did a great job healing this guy’s wounded fucking heart, Dr. Phil

oh wow, never fucking mind, even

I see, so that wasn’t meant to be a reassuring “in time you’ll get over it” speech; it was meant to be a cautionary “you’d better surround yourself with reminders of your terrible pain at all times or else you might actually stop feeling fucking miserable and WE CAN’T FUCKING HAVE THAT” speech. holy shit

I’m seriously having trouble wrapping my mind around just how terrible this is. like, it’s nearly impossible to fathom that level of cruelty. this is a four(?)-year-old child. he tracked him down, gave him a quirk that would kill his family*, sat back and watched it happen, and then let him stew in the horror of it all alone until he finally swooped in and claimed him and then raised him with the express purpose of keeping him sad and scared and angry and depressed at all times, all so he would eventually grow up and, with any luck, murder the man that his grandmother thought of as a son!

(*this is just conjecture right now, admittedly, but until I’m proven wrong I’m basically operating under the assumption that it’s true)

just. “fucked up” doesn’t even begin to describe it. god

anyways, let’s continue to read more about young Tenko’s extreme emotional abuse at the hands of the final villain I guess

OMG HANA

okay so I can’t remember where we left off on this last time, but a bunch of people said they suspected that the young Tenko wanted to be a hero when he was a little boy, and that’s why he was always clashing with his dad, because his dad’s own experience with heroes was pretty sour on account of the whole his-mom-gave-him-up-when-he-was-little-and-then-later-died-horribly thing

so yeah, I assume that’s what Hana is referring to here with the whole “I just tell Dad...” bit. so they both wanted to be heroes! how perfectly fucking tragic! great!

Tomuraaaaaa

KEEP IT UP TOMURA YOU CAN DO IT!! YOU CAN REMEMBER! YOU’RE DOING GREAT. aside from the whole “this really big man is killing you slowly” thing

yeah, this whole deal

but aside from that. doing great

OOOOOOOOOH SHIT, THIS MUMMIFIED LITTLE PUNK’S STILL GOT SOME FIGHT LEFT IN HIM YOU GUYS

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

he got him to fling him away! YESSSS TAKE THAT YOU ASSHOLE. FOOL HIM ONCE, FUCKING OUCH, BUT FOOL HIM TWICE, AND LET’S SEE HOW YOU FUCKING LIKE IT YOU BIG WAD

so now Re-Destro is belatedly realizing that Tomura is going through a very weird leveling-up process and taking advantage of the fact that he’s temporarily become the main character of the series and thus possesses all of the narrative powers that come with that venerable distinction

...that he’s the main character? yes

anyways lol there’s some real good crazyface action going on here guys

did Horikoshi take the extra time just so he could devote a little longer to nailing down panels like this because if yes, A+++

SDSKJSODIFHOIESJ

it’s mom!! wow!!

DSLKFAJSLDK ARE WE GETTING BACKSTORY ON THE FUCKING SCARS OMFG I CAN’T THIS IS TOO MUCH

SOB YOU GUYS I’M CAUGHT UP IN THIS WEIRD CROSS BETWEEN BEING HYPED AF AND ALSO CRACKING THE FUCK UP NOW THOUGH, BECAUSE:

ALL OF THIS WAS SO FUCKING BADASS, AND THEN THAT LAST FUCKING PANEL, THOUGH. LMAO WELL HE’S ON THE BRINK OF SOMETHING, BUT WHO CAN EVEN FUCKING SAY WHAT

ANYWAY HE’S ZOOMING TOWARDS RD AND RD’S THINKING “HE’S FAST!” AND YEAH, BITCH, YOU SCARED??

WHAT ARE YOU THE PRESIDENT OF HIS FANCLUB NOW OR WHAT

you guys this is the most I’ve ever liked Re-Destro. there’s something about evil nemesis characters being begrudgingly impressed by their enemies that just pleases me, idk

LJSDFIJWEOF

WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO HIS FACE HE LOOKS LIKE ONE OF THE SCARY TREES FROM SNOW WHITE

OH SHIT YOU GUYS WE’RE BREAKING OUT THE TROPES

so do we get 100% when he goes up against Machia, then? smdh, fucking power levels. well I guess Deku technically uses them too. but still, it’s not something we see in this series too often aside from that

holy shit you guys

honestly, I guess this should be really intimidating or whatever, but all I can think is that it’s about time this guy finally started taking this “pitiable gang of thugs” seriously. even if that does mean Tomura is probably about to fucking die, barring some Giganto ex Machia. that guy really needs to get a move on

oh hey

[RAISES EYEBROW AT GIGANTOMACHIA AND JABS FINGER TOWARDS WRISTWATCH] cut it a little closer next time why don’t you??

(ETA: also I didn’t notice all of Tomura’s other hands being flung away from him by the impact, but whoa. so now he’s just got the Papa Hand left in his pocket, along with whichever hand is grabbing the back of his head. and that’s it. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that his dad is the only remaining family member whose face we still haven’t seen yet. some big reveal coming up with that soon, I bet.)

oh and also guys here’s some more flashbacks. this time with loving grandparents. because Horikoshi just really wants to make sure our emotions are good and churned about

okay guys, Tenko’s very dead flashback!grandma and grandpa telling him not to cry and giving him yummy food so he won’t be sad is pretty much close to the limits of what I can take, angst-wise. I don’t know why this is hitting me so hard! this is hardly my first anime flashback! I should be a pro at this by this point, the fuck is wrong with me

but on the other hand, I think a big part of it is that I’m not just sad about Tomura’s past, but also angry. because none of this is just coincidence; all of it is actually stuff that was done to him very deliberately, and the worst part is he doesn’t even realize it. and so in addition to the usual rush of protective feelings, there’s also this sense of outrage about it all too. and I think that’s the harder part to deal with. here I am, a grown adult, getting really mad over the staggering cruelty of what was done to this fictional character when he was a child. it’s possible there’s some real-life anger and frustration over certain real-life horrific cruelties and injustices that may be bleeding over into this, idk. just, the world is a fucked up place, and my emotional support manga is currently being less than supportive and it’s a struggle sob

anyways sorry about that. meanwhile while I was having a mini breakdown, possibly the most pivotal character development in Tomura’s history was happening and HOLY SHIT THOUGH WAIT UP GUYS

sdfkdsfjwoilkkj BOY!!!!!!!

SOB HOW ARE THERE ONLY TWO PAGES LEFT I’M GONNA CRY THIS CHAPTER WENT BY SO FAST

-- HORIKOSHI WHY ARE YOU CUTTING AWAY FROM THE FLASHBACK OH MY GOD I’M GONNA!!!

FUCK ME, THIS IS WHAT I WAS WAITING FOR SO IMPATIENTLY, SO OF COURSE HORIKOSHI JUST HAD TO FINALLY MAKE IT HAPPEN RIGHT WHEN I WOULD HAVE GIVEN ANYTHING TO NOT CUT AWAY FROM THAT SCENE WE WERE JUST ON. THIS SADISTIC SON OF A...

...hee. but it’s hard to stay mad, though

... :)

:D :D :D

lol what. recall, if you may, that you guys are the ones who basically forced them to come down to your mountain city and kick your asses you dickasaurs

HAHAHAHAHAAA

SDLFKJLSDKFJ AND ALSO OH NOOOOOOOO

OH MY FUCKING GOD. AND THAT’S IT. THAT’S THE FUCKING CHAPTER. WHYYYYY

EAT IT YOU PRICKS, I HOPE GIGANTOMACHIA FLATTENS YOU ALL INTO NEXT WEEK

Tomura looks so freaking sad, you guys. he’s just standing there completely still and he looks like he’s just completely destroyed emotionally

and he said he remembered everything!?! so what the shit am I supposed to do, Horikoshi?? my boy is just standing there with seven fucking fingers and one shoe and so caught up in his sad reverie that he’s seemingly oblivious to the fact that the long-awaited cavalry has finally arrived. kid is maybe 2-3 chapters away from finally triumphing over this bald Disney tree man who talks too much. and not only that, but he’s more than likely going to finally win Gigantomachia’s loyalty in the process. which in turn means he’ll have access to Ujiko and all of his resources

so in short, this boy is minutes away from becoming one of the deadliest and most powerful forces on earth... and I’m pretty sure that right now, at this moment, none of that matters to him one iota

you guys. so what does this mean for future developments?? I’m really going to need him to define “everything” ASAP, for starters. that’s a very vague statement, and its implications could mean the difference between us just having a sadder-than-usual Tomura from this point out, or a Tomura that’s sad but also realizing for the first time that there’s a lot about his past that doesn’t quite add up, or hell, even a Tomura that’s actually out for fucking vengeance against AFO. that last one seems like too big of a jump to happen right away, but dare I at least hope for the second option though? god that would just be the icing on the cake for this fucking perfect arc

now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to go do some yoga or chant some mantras or something holy shit. this fucking manga

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