#your piece was so pretty with the pinks and the purples i thought it’d be a lot of fun to do

[jays-supersonic-dynamo]

hiii here’s my entry for @emimii ‘s dtiys!! congrats on 100 followers!

[elysianslove]

yams accidental nudes im begging crying shaking on my knees

HBSJSB OK BAE I GOTCHU ! <3

MASTERLIST FOR ALL ACCIDENTAL NUDE SEND FICS

it’s very much a simple two step process with yamaguchi the moment his phone pings with a notification from you. at first, he’s ridiculously excited. the moment he sees your name a small, shy smile paints his lips, and his heart flutters in his chest as one’s would with a stupid, silly crush on their best friend. although he’s out with friends, he excuses himself momentarily, claiming he needed to go buy a water bottle but really— he just wants to luxury of talking to you privately, without interruptions or teasing remarks.

he waits to open the message until he buys the water, the same way you would save the best piece of a crêpe or a cinnamon roll for last, dragging it out as much as you can. once the bottle’s tucked safely underneath his arm, he unlocks his phone, and opens the message.

the water bottle immediately drops to the ground.

and so, naturally, the second step is complete shock (with a wave of lust, of course).

there you are, in all your glory, leaning over the counter in your bathroom in some frilly, transparent and lacy lingerie, a confident smile on your face, your hips angled slightly and your breasts pressed close together because of your arms. your skin looks so— so soft, so smooth, so pretty. his mouth goes a little dry at the thought of his lips kissing and sucking and marking all over, painting you pink and purple and his. it’s what reminds him of the water bottle dropped on the ground, of the fact that he’s in public.

immediately, he locks the phone, and turns around, heading straight to the bathroom.

had you meant to send that? did you dress up for him, knowing he’d like it? well he does. he really likes it. if that’s what you were going for. he can’t even begin to imagine what it’d feel like taking it off you, slowly stripping you bare, unhooking the bra, trailing kisses down your chest, your stomach, to where the pretty panties sit perfect on your hips, pulling them down, down, down, kissing further, dipping lower, tasting you—

he chokes, hands fumbling with the phone and the bottle and the door handle. he rushes into a stall as quick as he can, locking it behind him, pressing against the door. he can’t stop thinking about you, and his hands tingle with the need and desperate desire to touch you, feel you, mark you.

“fuck,” he whispers to himself, blinking slowly. he repeats the curse, then your name, and then he thinks, were his feelings mutual after all? —

— meanwhile, you stare at the message you’d just sent, and at the contact you’d sent it to you. this was not the image you’d meant to send, not in the slightest, but the small text beneath the message reading Read taunts and mocks you, screaming too late! you stare, and stare, and stare, hands shaking and picking at your lips. how disastrous had this been? will it ruin everything once and for all?

too late, you remember and breathe out softly.

well, if he’s seen one, maybe he’d like to see the rest too?

[shorkbrian]

So happy your requests are open and I don't mind the wait at all!

I just really want to see a sweet quirkless omega going into heat and sending her alpha Overhaul (Kai Chisaki) into a hard rut and he just pins her to a wall and fucks the life out of her before taking her to the bedroom to knot her.

but you do know that it would 100% be like "hate sex" on Chisaki's part (even though he kinda do like it lol)

(Kinda overhaul x reader x chrono btw but only for a little bit)

Just. Overhaul being able to tolerate you being kept at his compound because one, you're his mate, whether he likes it or not.

Two, you're quirkless.

And three? You don't bother him, you stay out of the way and you have passable hygiene when compared to Chisaki's standards.

But that has to be thrown out the window the second Chrono hauls you into Chisaki's office, the man in charge of watching you when Chisaki isn't around flustered and pink around his ears.

"B-boss, your omega, she's-"

"What the fuck is that smell." Chisaki growls, eyes immediately snapping to your trembling form. Taking in the way you're gasping, sweaty, barely able to stand even with Chrono's hand tight around your bicep and holding you up.

For some reason, the sight of Chrono touching you makes Chisaki itch. Odd, that usually wouldn't bother him.

The smell is cloying; too intense and too sweet, it makes his throat burn and his skin crawl.

"I think she's in-"

"Please, it hurts." You choke out, cutting off Chrono. "Need... I need-"

Chisaki recoiled as the scent got stronger, clouding his senses, making him feel... Chisaki didn't even know. Excited? Tingly?

Uncomfortable - he decided.

"Get her out. Give her a bath too, she smells disgusting." He commanded, but Chrono stepped forward instead of back out the door.

"Boss, she's in heat."

Heat?

Oh.

Overhaul cringed.

Logically, he knew it was going to happen eventually. But on the other hand, he had hoped his omega would be different. you was already quirkless, already pure... surely it wouldn't be too far of a stretch to assume that you wouldn't be affected by the mindless heat-addling that Omega's all seemed to undergo?

His irritation was rising.

"So?"

Chrono looked at his boss with questioning eyes, unsure what to do with the omega becoming increasingly more distressed at his side.

"You'll get her over it." Chisaki decides, ignoring the bitter taste that floods his mouth as he utters those words. His eyes slide over you again, lip curling into a disgusted sneer.

"Messy thing."

Chrono is frozen in disbelief. But this isn't a test of his loyalty, Chisaki truly doesn't want to deal with the germs and the mess and the cleanup associated with omega's during their heats. Slick everywhere, pheromones staining the room, needy hands touching everywhere-

"Sit her down on the couch." He instructs his second-in-command, rising from his office chair and stepping around his desk so he can close the door. "I want to make sure you don't damage her."

That's the only reason. Only reason he wants to be present and watching while Chrono fucks you through your heat.

"You're serious then?" The white-haired man asks, removing the plague mask he wears while inside the compound, thus beginning the process of disrobing.

Chisaki waved his hand idly, resuming his position in his office chair with a tired sigh. "It'd be such a chore for me to do it myself. Aren't you an alpha yourself Chrono? You should be jumping at the chance to bed a nice quirkless omega."

Chrono shrugs off his white coat, looking up from where you're panting on the couch while he stands in front of you, eyes finding his boss. "I wouldn't want to overstep my boundaries with your property."

The brunette smiles, not that anyone can see, but it's clear he's pleased by the crinkle near his eyes, the relaxed way he slumps in his chair. "And that's why you're my favorite Chrono."

You're wearing what you usually wear - long pants, a cozy sweater. Overhaul hasn't heard you complain about the chill in the compound, but it's clear to see it affects you by the way you dress and the way your nose darkens from the cold.

You don't fight the half-naked Chrono as he helps you out of your sweater, unbothered by the temperature of the room and looking entirely too hot and sweaty.

Chisaki supposes it's good that you aren't fighting. You had at first, when he first brought you here, crying and pleading for him to let you go and leave you alone. That pathetic show was quickly shut down with a simple demonstration of Overhaul's quirk, and what he'd do to you if you didn't comply.

Now you're seemingly accepting of the situation, casting nervous glances towards Chisaki, your attention constantly getting stolen by the pale man stripping in front of you.

It takes an embarrassingly short amount of time before Chrono has his cock in you.

And you look completely blissed out, mouth open and letting out choked little gasps on each thrust, one hand desperately trying to hold onto Chrono's shoulder, his arm, his chest - anything you can reach.

The other hand is on your stomach, and Chisaki doesn't understand why until he focuses on it, sees the distention whenever Chrono swings his hips into you.

Chisaki feels himself throb.

The sounds you're making sound like music. Awful music, all discordant and rushed and pornographic, stuttered breaths and pitiful cries, high-pitched and girlish moans in between Chrono's quiet huffs.

The sweet pheromones in the air become sweeter, thicker, and Chisaki can see the direct correlation between the smell and how much slick is dripping out of you, drenching Chrono's pretty cock, his stomach, even splattering his thighs on each thrust as his cock squelches deeper.

It's disgusting.

Digusting but curiously enamoring. Chrono's got you sitting on the couch, pushed up against the back while he fucks you. It's a tall piece of furniture, and Chrono merely hikes his leg up onto the cushions to gain a better angle to fuck you with. Your slick is everywhere; Chisaki knows that couch won't be salvageable after this. Somehow, he doesn't mind.

What he does mind, however, is the way Chrono is speeding up, rhythm stuttering and practically falling apart. He's going to knot you. Chisaki had given him full permission to - that's what taking care of an omega during their heat means, after all. But jealousy is boiling inside him, blood painfully engorging his cock, he feels tingly all over, very unlike himself.

He wants to touch you.

But you're a disgusting mess, smelling sweet and fertile and sweating and dripping everywhere. Chisaki can't believe he's feeling... attracted to you right now.

"O-ohh feels good, r-right there! Yes, thank you,t-than-" You mumble out, drunk on cock as you shudder through an orgasm, cream gushing out of your cunt and further dirtying Chisaki's office.

Chisaki sees red.

He's furious - not only at you, but at Chrono for touching you, and for himself for explicitly allowing it to happen. Chrono's about to knot you, claim you, and Chisaki is out of his chair before he knows what's happening.

"That's enough." And his gloved hands are ripping Chrono away from you, sending the other man reeling as his subordinate struggles to control his alpha instincts and stop himself from fighting his boss, tearing Chisaki to shreds for interrupting his mating.

Chisaki doesn't care, he's too focused on you.

"You're so pathetic." The man hisses at you, crowding into your space. When had he taken off his mask? He wanted to smell more of you.

His gloves are gone too, ripped away in a moment so he can feel your wet skin against his hands, feel the sweat beading your brow before those same fingers snap to undo his pants.

"I hate you, I hate you." He seethes, golden eyes staring at you so intently that you start to cry, overwhelmed with the situation, still craving a knot, craving intimacy and tenderness.

You've reduced him down to barely better than an animal, tearing at his clothes so he can sink into you, closing his eyes at the way you're wet and warm inside, perfect and velvety.

Chisaki doesn't know what's come over him. Normally he'd be disgusted, absolutely incensed at having such filth be in direct contact with his skin. But right now... all he feels is pleasure ripping through his veins, clouding his head, his mind, flushing rational thought down the toilet.

"Stupid, hate you-" his words rattle out on each rapid thrust, breath uneven and labored as his muscles stretch and work to fuck you harder and faster. He's building up to his peak.

One of his hands is fisted in your hair, close to your scalp and keeping you still, the other hand clamped firmly against your hip and making sure you don't wiggle away. Alpha instincts taking over as his brain convinces him to mate, breed, cum.

"You're so fucking dirty." He gasps, voice heated and gravelly as he struggles to fight through the heat taking over his body.

He's going into a rut.

Chisaki isn't supposed to do that. He takes supplements and suppressants to ensure he doesn't have too. Ruts are messy, nasty things to endure, and Chisaki would rather lick the floor of a dirty subway than experience one.

Yet here he is.

"You disgusting, wretched thing-" And you're crying, fat tears mixing with sweat and rolling down your chin. Chisaki feels disgusting himself, wanting to lick the liquid away.

He hasn't felt this good in his entire life, this burning fever pitch rising and rising and cresting, blazing along his nerves.

He can barely thrust his hips anymore, and only then does Chisaki realizes that he's popped his knot, jammed it in deep while you cried and moaned and struggled to hold onto him.

Theres a sick sense of satisfaction filling him up, his mind clears for half a second and Chisaki thinks to look over his shoulder, seeing Chrono still standing there with a soured look on his face, cock still swollen and drippy and bobbing purple against the man's stomach.

"Get out." Chisaki orders, and Chrono knows enough to merely pick up his coat and wrap it around himself before exiting the room. He's never seen his boss like this - so feral and unhinged and debauched like some regular dirty plebeian.

But Chisaki doesn't care. Odd.

He cares about grinding against you, feeling you milk every last drop of cum from his balls, shimmying his hips to hear you gasp and moan and clutch at his body, trembling like a little lamb.

Chisaki doesn't want to stop.

"As soon as my knot goes down-" He growls, lowering his face until it's mere inches from your own, breathing into your space. "I'm going to take you to my room and knot you until you break."

[booksforevermore13]

The Mystery Girl

This is my too late entry to the Hinny Ficfest. I just got to know about it a few days ago, and I just loved the concept of something solely being for Hinny fanfiction. I haven't been writing very long, but I just had to participate.

Thank you to @clarensjoy for organizing this!

Also written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition.

Huge thanks to my QLFC teammates for beta-ing this!

Prompt 68: "Are you just `going to stand there and gawk?" / "Yes." / "Well stop it. You look stupid." Prompt 23: "I'm not afraid of your sister, you're afraid of your sister." Prompt 29: "Do you even know what a whisper is?"

Summary: "I swear, if you're Draco Malfoy or another one of his cronies, I'll hex you where it'll hurt. Badly."

"I'm not," Harry replied hurriedly, though he suspected even Malfoy would answer no to that.

Missing moment in HBP between Harry and Ginny.

Read it on Fanfiction if you prefer.

...

"She's crazy," Harry heard Ron moan, "and just when you think you've reached the bottom of her craziness, there's a crazy underground garage," and winced as the latter banged his head on the table.

That morning, when the sky was barely blue with a chorus of greys, Harry had heard Ron scream bloody murder and shot up off the bed, only to see him behind a huge oval mirror — courtesy of Neville's grandmother — and went back under the covers. He'd figured that if Ron was potentially being threatened by a crazed homicidal maniac, he wouldn't have been screaming about it while standing behind a century old mirror. So he'd gone back to bed and been woken up an hour and a half later by a snickering Fred and George on a visit to Hogwarts, who'd informed him of a very distraught Ron in the Great Hall.

Of course, he'd rushed out, slipping on a shirt backwards, and scrambling towards the Great Hall, heedless of the beautiful day outside and how perfect the wind was for a game of Quidditch, closely followed by the twins, who snickered all the way there. It was only when he reached it did he fully grasp that the situation couldn't have been too bad if the twins were snickering.

Worst case was, there'd been a prank gone wrong. Ron being on the opposite side of it.

Harry squinted as he walked forward, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to discern the misshapen blob on top of Ron's head. For a second there, it did look like a spell gone wrong and Harry felt a twinge of panic as he walked faster. It was red from what he could see, and he came to a stop as he realised that it looked frighteningly like a poorly knit hat.

"Why," Harry said, still squinting, "are you wearing that?"

Ron didn't answer, instead wailing as he buried his head in his hands. Harry shared a look with a still snickering Fred and George who'd taken a seat on either side of Ron while Harry took the seat opposite.

"Beautiful hat eh, Ronniekins?" Fred said, in a vaguely condescending tone. "Though, if I might say, a poor choice for impressing darling Lav-Lav."

Ron didn't answer and let out yet another sound of anguish which sounded more like a distraught sob than a yell.

"Are you…. okay Ron?" Harry asked a second later, out of necessity more than concern.

"No I'm not okay!" Ron wailed, "I'm not bloody okay! Do I look okay? No! I'm wearing a bloody woolen hat in the middle of May!"

"We've noticed," Harry said, as he took small sips from his mug. "Why though, are you wearing a woolen hat?"

"Oh, let us," Fred said, a sly grin on his face as he bent forward and ripped Ron's hat off.

George howled in laughter as Harry choked and spluttered out his pumpkin juice, coughing violently as Ron lunged forward at Fred, who dangled the hat at arm's reach.

"You've got pink hair," Harry laughed at the same time Ron yelled at Fred to give back his hat or go and do something he dared not mention in front of Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh, Ronnikins," Fred laughed.

"you look so awfully good —" George quipped.

"— have we mentioned?"

"Suits your brows," which were also pink.

"— and your eyes —"

"— not to mention the lips." George puckered his lips slightly, making a popping sound that only managed to anger Ron even more as he looked fit to murder.

"Mind your own bloody business," he yelled at anyone who looked twice at him, or more specifically, at his head.

"It's pink!" Harry giggled again, covering his mouth as Ron shot him a glare, before dissolving in hysterics again.

"It's lavender, I'll have you know," he grumbled.

Harry laughed harder, before finding it in himself to sober down. Fred and George, though, paid no heed as they continued laughing hysterically, Fred even going to lengths to ruffle Ron's lavender hair, met by a glare and a well-placed curse word.

"What were you trying to do?" Harry said, glancing at Fred as he bit back a smile. "Match with Lavender?"

"Sure, yeah Ron," Fred added, "it'd be even more fun to stick your tongue down her throat with that head full of hair of yours. Imagine her hands tangled in your lavender hair, her lips —"

Ron punched Fred in his side, cutting him off as he doubled over laughing, while Harry drew his legs in as Ron's flung over to kick his.

"Ginny did this, not me," he defended. "And I'm going to have it out with her, I tell you. I'll dye her hair purple, or green, or-or black —"

"Wait, Ginny did this?" Harry gaped. "Wow, I mean, bad wow, very disappointed wow," he said quickly as Ron shot him a look.

"You underestimate her," Ron grumbled, "she's the devil's spawn, that one, even worse than these two gits here." He pointed at a smirking Gred and Forge.

Harry smiled to himself, his cheeks reddening rapidly as he spotted George looking at him with a suggestive grin. Fred joined in, wiggling his eyebrows, and Harry ducked down in embarrassment.

"Won-won!" he winced as heard a shriek cut through the silence, "ohh, my precious Wonnie-boo!" He cringed as he heard Lavender making kissing noises as she ran over to where they were sitting.

"Murder me, Harry," Ron muttered.

"Yeah, no," Harry replied, "you're doing a pretty good job yourself," he shook his head as he picked up a piece of toast, quickly leaving as Lavender threw herself over Ron.

…

He was screwed.

His assurance of his screwed-ness became even stronger as he heard Filch hurrying down the corridor and calling out for Mrs. Norris. The dastardly cat was going to die a horrible death, Harry was sure of it, and he cringed as he heard another pair of footsteps right outside the broom cupboard.

The small space was cramped, just high enough for Harry to rise up to his full height, and it was dark. Pitch dark, and if this was the metaphorical colour black — as Luna so wisely commented time and again — he didn't like it very much.

Harry held his breath as hurried footsteps stopped in front of the cupboard and turned around to hide his face as the door opened, eyes blinded by the light outside. He heard the door close again.

And then the blackness resumed.

That was until he felt a hand push him backwards roughly and he shrieked, his hands going up in mock defence.

"Who the hell are you?" the person demanded, and Harry discerned it to be distinctly feminine, and familiar. Very familiar, he thought.

He stayed silent though, wary of giving his identity away to a girl in a broom cupboard. Perhaps, he thought, she'd get the memo and leave, though he couldn't for his life guess why she had been hiding there in the first place.

The girl stayed silent for a second, probably waiting for a response before she said fiercely. "I swear, if you're Draco Malfoy or another one of his cronies, I'll hex you where it'll hurt. Badly."

"I'm not," Harry replied hurriedly, though he suspected even Malfoy would answer no to that. But the girl seemed satisfied as she humphed and turned around. There was a soft mellow in the mystery girl's voice and he knew he'd heard it before, he just couldn't place where.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked, before cursing under his breath. Normal conversation generally required a 'who are you?' and mutual knowledge of their identities, but clearly, that wasn't the case here, and anyway, Harry had a slight feeling that the girl wouldn't disclose her identity even if he asked.

He waited. And then sighed as the girl remained silent.

"You're talking too loud," she said finally. "Obviously, you're hiding in here from something, or someone," she snorted there and Harry smiled, "so if you don't talk softly, then you're going to get us caught."

"Filch's cat," Harry said.

"What?"

"I'm hiding from Filch's cat."

"Oh," the girl gave a humorless chuckle, "bloody thing's going to have a miserable death. I'm sure of it."

"So I take it you're hiding from her, too?"

"Filch actually," the girl said, "and I suppose that includes the cat too."

"What did you do?"

"Set off fifteen dung bombs in his office," and Harry could swear she had a tinge of pride in her voice, and for a moment, marveled at the nerve of this girl who'd threatened to hex his parts off the first minute they'd met, now claiming to have thrashed Filch's den. There were very few in the school who had the guts to do that, and Harry felt himself flushing as he wondered whether the girl in front of him was Ginny.

Before he could say anything more though, she stepped forward and pried open the door, peeking out to look for what Harry knew now was Mrs. Norris and her owner.

He caught a glimpse of her red hair as the door opened, and his suspicions about her identity grew and almost the very next second, the girl shut the door close, and he could make out her leaning on it.

"Bloody hell," she cursed, and Harry for the second time was flooded with how familiar that sounded, and how he had heard Ginny curse like that before as he felt her push him against the back wall of the cupboard and shuffle in behind him, so that now they were just barely touching, yet not, her body shielding his. Harry felt himself smiling at how the girl, who he had now deemed about a foot shorter than him, was trying to shield him from whatever came knocking on the door. The feeling felt almost foreign for him, for nobody before the Weasleys and Hermione had ever so readily provided a shield so unanimous and here was a girl, who could very well turn out to not be Ginny, shielding him from a petty predator.

However trivial that sounded, Harry felt a warmth blossoming in his chest.

"Just remember, if we get caught, you're deaf and I don't speak English."

"Huh?"

"I think Filch's coming our way," she explained.

"What?"

"Do you even know what a whisper is?" the girl hissed, and Harry's instincts went into overdrive as he clamped his hand on what he could hope was her mouth, pushing her backwards as he shielded her petite body with his, so that he was now between her and the door.

He waited for the footsteps to pass, completely aware of how close the two of them were, and he waited with baited breath as he heard Filch's grumbles get softer. The moment the sounds became distant, Harry yelped and snatched his hand away. She'd bit him!

"Lumos Maxima," the girl whispered and her wand lit up. Harry blinked as he saw her features come into view and her bright brown eyes glare fiercely up at him before they softened.

"Harry?"

"Ginny?" Harry said, more like a fact than a question, because he'd already known who it was all the way. He just couldn't believe he hadn't recognized her the second she'd entered the cupboard. It was hard not to.

Ginny laughed, and Harry turned red, satisfaction brimming in his chest as he took in her illuminated face. Her chuckles died down as she looked up at him.

"Are you just going to stand there and gawk?" Ginny asked, a smile playing on her lips, and Harry had an unexplainable urge to just bend down and kiss her. They were just a few inches apart, probably the closest they had been since forever, and it would take him to bend just a few inches to capture her lips with his.

"Yes," Harry found himself answering truthfully.

"Well stop, you look stupid."

And Harry laughed, and Ginny joined him, and Harry found himself just looking at her and thinking how beautiful she was. And not just beautiful, she was… radiant.

His hand was still pressed beside her head and she slipped out underneath it, the light in her wand dimming as she made her way to open the door.

"Aren't you coming?" she asked as the door swung open. Harry squinted, his eyes adjusting from the dark to the light as he, for a brief second, noticed how her red hair seemed to light up against the sun, making it seem as if it was on fire.

So he followed her out, and they smiled as they met each other's eyes.

Ginny noticed him before he did.

"Shit," Ginny cursed. "We're screwed."

Filch glared at them as Mrs. Norris purred, and Harry couldn't help but agree.

…

"Oh there was a time when they used to hang students by their thumbs in the dungeons," Filch said darkly. "Those were the days."

"I suppose you were hanged like that a lot," Ginny said sweetly, and Harry nudged her, sending her a warning look.

"What did you say?"

"They probably used your toes. Seeing your thumbs weren't large enough."

"Two months scrubbing the toilets with a toothbrush," Filch screamed shrilly, and Harry pushed Ginny backwards as the man advanced on her, Mrs. Norris following him.

He stopped as he saw Harry's menacing glare. "You, boy," he said, glaring at Harry, "you're going to spend a month in the dungeons. Scrubbing the floors till they shine."

"That's not fair," Ginny bellowed, and Harry pulled her away before Filch could open his mouth. He suspected if they stayed there for a second longer, there'd be murder committed. Or at least a heinous crime.

"Two months in the toilets," she muttered darkly as they walked down the corridors, "that lying, cheating piece of scum," she growled. "And his cat—oh, I hope that cat rots in hell."

Harry laughed, and then stopped as Ginny shot him a look, both of them lapsing into silence.

"Seeing your thumbs weren't large enough," Harry chuckled, seconds later. "You don't take things seriously sometimes, you know?"

"Never take life seriously," Ginny said, and Harry looked at her, glimpsing a side of her he hadn't seen before. "No one ever comes out alive anyway."

And though those words were too crude to be true, Harry agreed with them wholeheartedly.

…

"Wait," he said as they neared the Gryffindor common room, before laughing, "you dyed Ron's hair pink."

"Lavender, actually," Ginny replied, "thought it'd match his girlfriend."

Harry chuckled, shaking his head as Ginny grinned an impish grin. "You're scary, you know." The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them. "Amazing, but scary."

Ginny laughed as she leaned against Harry's shoulder. "That's one of the best compliments I've ever received."

"One of the best?" Harry asked. "What's the best?"

"Oh. I don't know," Ginny shrugged, "probably on the lines of crazy ass she-demon who hides under children's beds."

"Really?" Harry laughed, "who said that?"

"Ron. I think Charlie agreed too."

Harry laughed and flushed as his hand brushed against hers. Instinct took over as he interlocked his fingers with hers and Ginny looked up in surprise, before relaxing into his hold, smiling happily. She was beautiful, Harry couldn't help but notice again as she swung their hands to and fro like two children.

But, he supposed, it probably wouldn't hurt being a child once in a while.

He'd never been one before — he'd at least never felt like one, even with Ron and Hermione. Like the entire world, they expected things from him, however few they might be. Ginny never expected; she'd always been the one to give without expecting anything in return. Never once, looking at him in pity or with a look that showed she understood everything he was going through.

She didn't, and she knew that and she made sure everyone around her knew it too. She tried to understand though, but if she wasn't able to, she didn't try further. Never pressed for more. Ginny, Harry had seen, was as open as he was withdrawn. What he saw was the truth — at least to him — and she was fiercely proud of that,almost daring anyone to oppose, but nobody ever did. He liked that.

Harry looked at her once again, smiling as he saw her glance at him through the corner of her eye.

"Oi, Harry!" He heard Ron's voice break through his reverie and felt a surge of disappointment as Ginny spotted her brother and let go of his hand. Ron was wearing that hideous woolen hat again, and Harry and Ginny exchanged glances, looking away to hide their grins.

"Heard you got into detention with Filch," Ron wheezed, "and you too." He pointed at Ginny.

Both of them nodded and Ron looked at them suspiciously before asking, "Were you two together all afternoon?"

"Yeah, well —" Harry looked at Ginny.

"We kind of fell in trouble together."

Harry smiled.

"Can't imagine why," Ron replied snarkily. "And you," he said, looking at Ginny, "don't think I haven't let you off the hook for this." He pointed at his hat, slightly grimacing.

"Didn't know I was on a hook," Ginny said cheekily. "I think you've lost your bait."

"Just taking pity on the number of toilets you have to scrub."

"I'll ask you for help if necessary."

Ron shook his head, exasperated. "He didn't do anything, right? Filch?" he asked, moments later.

"Relax, Ron," Ginny smiled, "I can take him any day."

They watched her walk away, a spring in her step, Harry with a smile on his face before Ron turned to him.

"I'm not going to see you with green hair tomorrow, am I?"

"I'm not afraid of your sister, Ron. You're afraid of your sister," Harry said and he grinned.

I think I'm in love with her.

...

[lunarmessenger]

Hi!!!!!!!! I just love jealous RFA so what their (plus minor duo but only if it’s not too much) reaction would be if girl confessed and they thought it’d be for RFA but turns out it’s for MC? And I love your chibi drawings that’s so precious >~<

Ohho, aren’t you precious? I actually love this concept omg thank you so much for your request!! Sorry it took me a bit to get it written out ;;; - luna xx

warnings: none really? just a bit of jealousy and possessiveness haha

Zen:

• He’s literally so butt hurt

• He’s so used to admirers swarming the two of you to get his autograph or try to pine for his number

• While he gladly gives autographs for fans and even pictures, he always respectfully declined those who asked for his number

• He just loved seeing the slight tint of red on your cheeks when you got jealous and that’s why he wasn’t normally so forceful of telling other people no when they asked for his number

• Until one day you had went to go grab some water during one of Zen’s breaks at rehearsal

• One of his coworkers, a beautiful woman with long black hair and the perfect figure strolled up she reminded him a bit of Jumin honestly

• He was actually a little nervous to tell her no because he didn’t want to cause a scene but he would do it for you because he loves you

• So he begrudgingly held out his hand and she plops a piece of paper into it, a smirk on her face as he takes a deep breath

• “Look, I know that you and I work together but that doesn’t mean I’m available—”

• “Tell them that when they’re done with you, they should give me a call.”

• That’s when it clicks for him as he notices the way her dark eyes loom over your approaching figure, her tongue licking her lips as she winks at him then walks away

• He’s so infuriated that it hurts

• “Everything okay, Zen?”

• He rips the paper into so many pieces you didn’t even think that was possible

• “How about you go home, MC; I’ll tell you about it later.”

• You laughed for ages and teased him about it for weeks because, well

• “You’re not the only hot one in this relationship, Zen.”

Yoosung

• He’s always super bashful when girls in his class try to ask him out because he rarely finds himself attractive

• You were the same in a way; you were more confident than him, but still shy when people complimented you

• So while the two of you are on his campus, you holding flashcards in front of him to help him study

• You started to smile at a girl that approached the two of you, cheeks blazing pink as she stuttered over her words

• Her blue eyes were wide as she tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, looking as if she was taking deep breaths to calm herself

• “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I’ve seen you both around for a while, and I just…well…”

• Yoosung turns just as pink, brows furrowing as he stutters over his words too

• “I appreciate it but I am taken!”

• For a moment the girl furrows her brows in confusion, adjusting the straps of her backpack as she tilts her head

• “Um…okay? Anyway, I think you’re really attractive and so; please accept my letter!”

• Both of your jaws drop as she kneels down and hands the letter towards you, hands trembling as you take it and nod

• “Aha, um…thank you?”

• She scurries off before you can even turn it over, and when you do you see your name written in beautiful penmanship surrounded by hearts

• Before you can even open it, Yoosung has snatched it out of your hands

• “Wha—Yoosung!”

• His purple eyes were clouded with anger as he rips it to shreds, an almost growl escaping his lips as he grunts

• “You’re mine. No need to read this letter when it’s gonna end up in the trash.”

• You couldn’t help but laugh at his possessiveness, tackling him in a hug and peppering his face with kisses as you shook your head.

• “What am I going to do with you?”

Jaehee

• She’s not the jealous type usually

• Like you can mention in passing that you were hit on and it won’t phase her a bit

• When it happens in front of her though? That’s a bit different;;;;

• Men tend to hit on the both of you often so that doesn’t phase her much but when it’s women?? Uh oh

• A really sweet woman was frequenting the bakery often; she would always get the same treat and the same drink, sitting at a table by the window

• She was quite pretty; short curly hair and tanned skin that had been specially kissed by the sun

• Jaehee was making the coffee for the next order when you’d gone to check on every table, stopping at hers and asking if she’d like another

• “No, thank you but…I was wondering. Would you like to go out for dinner some time?”

• Before you’d had a chance to respond you heard the sound of ceramic crashing, the mug Jaehee was holding now in pieces on the floor as she looked in your direction

• “Ah, while I’m flattered, I do have a girlfriend…;;;”

• The woman was understanding, putting two and two together as Jaehee rushed to pick up the mug and stomped into the back area

• “Jaehee! Jae, omg why are you so mad please—”

• “Because you’re my partner and how dare she think for a second that—”

• You interrupted her with a kiss and that shut her up quickly

• “You should be possessive more often. I actually like it…”

• “Shut up, MC.”

Jumin

• He has plenty of women in the business world that try to win his heart even though you’ve already done that lol

• So he’s actually quite surprised when you join him for a business meeting and he notices one of the women staring at you

• It’s so painfully obvious he’s actually offended that she isn’t hiding it

• She peers up at you through her bangs that frame her face, short hair styled perfectly as she leans back in her office chair

• Jumin couldn’t even focus and in minutes the meeting was over and she was instantly at your side

• “What?” He’s stunned, watching as she gently takes your hand in hers and kisses it

• “I’ve heard plenty about you, MC. While I’m sure Jumin appreciates you as a business asset, I would love to get to know you on a more personal level.”

• He is livid

• Before you can respond he’s wrapped an arm around you and snatched you away from her, a smirk on her face as he frowns at her

• “I’d appreciate if you let their hand go. We have business to tend to; at home. Come along, MC.”

• “Jumin oh—” He has you pressed so close to him that you can smell his cologne, your face flushed from embarrassment as she grins

• “It was nice meeting you!”

• Jumin scoffs as he escorts you out of the meeting room

• You’re shocked; he’s never lost control like that, not even when men would make passes at you during events or dinner parties

• “So, what was that?”

• “We will not be discussing this, MC. Now, would you like French, or Italian for lunch?”

• You grin as you get in the elevator with him, pressing a small kiss to his cheek

• “No matter what, Jumin. You’re the one for me.”

707

• He makes so many jokes about the women that fawn over him that he too his stunned when a woman confesses their love for you

• It was during an RFA party, and you’d worn a particularly flattering outfit that accentuated all the right places

• He was watching you from afar when he noticed a woman with equal beauty walk up to you, long blonde hair and brown eyes drinking you in as she slightly leaned against you

• “Oh, it looks like I’ve had too much to drink; maybe you’d like to take me home? I’ve been an admirer of yours for a while…”

• You’re so embarrassed that you don’t know what to say; a clutter of “ums” and “uhs” leaving your mouth as you tried to make sure she didn’t fall

• With you holding her up it gave her a chance to press against you even more so much so that you could feel and see most of her chest oh god Saeyoung help me

• “Oh~ I am also way too drunk and love showing off my boobs to make people like me!”

• You immediately drop the woman in shock when you see your boyfriend waltzing towards you in a dress, a long red wig swishing behind him as he lands on you

• It couldn’t be helped; you were laughing so hard that you nearly fell over, Saeyoung grinning as he sneered at the woman who looked at the two of you in confusion

• “Wait…what?”

• “Oh! I’m sorry miss um, but uh, this is my boyfriend—”

• “Who happily takes them home every night so if you’d please let us be that would be the most polite!” He says in a sing song voice, placing a hand on your chest as you snort

• You’d never seen a woman walk away so fast in your life

• “Good riddance…how classless.”

• “Saeyoung you literally put on a dress just to be petty.”

• “That’s different MC.”

V

• He receives admirers from all over who adore mainly his work; and it doubles when they realize how handsome the painter is

• During an exhibition he’d gathered a rather large crowd, mostly women which wasn’t surprising

• It didn’t bother you much; you trusted V, and he always made it clear that he was happy in his relationship with you to all of the women who tried to grow close to him

• You’d gone to a different section of the gallery to take a minute to yourself, staring at V’s painting of you that he’d done with a fond smile

• “While he is talented, he surely will never be able to capture the beauty of the real thing.”

• You turned your head in surprise to see a woman staring at you, red lips and sharp green eyes piercing as she held out a glass of champagne towards you

• “Oh, well um…thank you.”

• “Of course. I understand the appeal to him but…I like to think that his partner is much more enticing.”

• You couldn’t help but blush as you stared at your bubbling champagne

• Then, the familiar smell of lavender and cedar danced across your nose, your head turning to see V approaching

• “You’re absolutely right, miss. They are the most enticing, and that’s why I made them mine. Now, if you’ll excuse us.”

• He plucks the champagne out of your hand and places it on the bench beside you, whisking you away while the woman pouts and hurries off

• “Um, V?”

• He hides the two of you in a dark hallway, closed off from the gallery as he presses you against the wall

• “I don’t know how you do this all the time MC; that was painful for me to see. Promise me that I’m the only one you’ll ever look at?”

• You giggle as you wrap your arms around the back of his neck, pressing your forehead against his as you whisper

• “I promise. She’s no match for you, my love.”

• He seals the promise with a kiss, savoring your taste as he breathes out

• “Let’s just stay like this for a little longer…”

Saeran

• He’s so shy already that when he receives confessions from women he literally shuts down

• It’s even worse when women confess their love to you like what???

• He understands because he’s knows that you’re beautiful and that you’re such an amazing person

• But you’re also his like excuse me?

• You’re enjoying your lunch in the park that you always take once a week

• You were sketching in your journal while he explained the different plants you were seeing; it was one of your favorite pass times to do before it got too late

• The two of you were unaware that your sketching and laughter had gained the attention of another, who was working up the courage to confess

• She’d finally gained said courage, walking up with a brand new journal as she cleared her throat

• “Um…excuse me?”

• You both turned your eyes towards her, freckles dotting her shy face as she handed the book to you

• “I always see you drawing and, well, you’re really good. So I wanted you to have this.”

• You were shocked; such kindness from a stranger. But this was a gift you couldn’t accept.

• “Oh, thank you so much! But I can’t accept this, really because—”

• “Because I am their boyfriend.” You didn’t expect him to speak up, head snapping towards him in surprise

• He wasn’t angry just more apologetic; he’d experienced the same fear of rejection when he was pursuing you and he knew that what she was feeling wasn’t good

• “Oh, I see. Okay. Well, I’ll leave you two alone then.”

• She walked away dejected while he reached for your hand

• “I think I’ve just experienced jealousy and I didn’t like it much.”

• You giggled, resting your head in his lap as you looked at him

• “You handled it graciously, darling. Let’s enjoy the sun then head home.”

[reddiamondgamer]

A Wrightworth Fic 3

(Finally, I was struggling with this chapter since I aim for 4 pages per chapter in Google Docs. TW Panic attack)

Beginning Previous Next A03

_____________________________

Any day that he spent with his friends or his Dollie was a good day in Phoenix’s book, though, he was pretty sure he’d suck at keeping track of anything in a book about himself. He couldn’t even put together a timeline unless he had something else other than his faulty memory to look back on.

It’d been about a month, he thinks, since the arcade meet up with Miles and Larry and Butzworth, the inflatable metallic purple alien, had since passed in an unfortunate accident otherwise known as falling on him and causing him to pop. Phoenix had hung up a piece of the deceased alien’s face on his wall and was currently glaring at it while he did what felt like expelling his lungs through his mouth. He couldn’t believe he’d lost his Cold Killer X medicine after lunch with Dollie, feeling like it was just him being clumsy and forgetful again. Dollie had promised him that she’d find the cold medicine for him, but that was a couple days ago now and he was sure that Dollie had given up by now.

A knocking on his door drew him out of his cold-induced trance and he got up to see who it could be, hoping it was Dollie with the medicine.

He tripped over a small pile of clothes as he made his way to the door, his face returning the pattern of knocking with one loud thud followed by a quiet “ow”. Pushing himself back up, he opened the door and spotted Miles’s handsome- no, not handsome, well, yes handsome, but that’s not the right thing to be thinking right now, face. He wasn’t sure why Miles was looking at him like he was a stranger though, that was weird.

“Excuse me, I am seeking my acquaintance, he goes by the name of Phoenix Wright?”

“Miles, I’m Phoenix.” He answered, brushing his hair out of his face. His bedhead must’ve really confused Miles or something.

“I am making a note to ensure you never run short of hair gel, you are not recognizable without it.”

“I’m sick, why would I be using hair gel?”

“Why would you not be? You’ve done many other ridiculous things in my presence, Wright, hair gel is no different for you.”

Phoenix could only let out an exasperated groan in response, stepping to the side so Miles could enter. He noticed his friend’s upturned nose at the sight of his dorm room, a frown prominent on his face, which still was not handsome and he’d never think about that ever again.

“I feel as if I am entering a bird’s nest.”

“Gee, why not help me lay a few eggs then? You’ve clearly got your feathers all ruffled by being here, I can tell by your neck frills.”

Miles’s face tinted red and his eyebrows lowered while his eyes narrowed slightly, turning his head away from Phoenix. He wondered if Miles really would inflate like a bird, letting out a laugh at the thought.

“...I’ll have you know it is called a cravat, you uneducated plebeian.”

“If I’m a plebeian, then what’re you?” Phoenix tilted his head and rubbed his chin in thought. “Are you a publican here to tell me the taxes have increased?”

“How on earth- nevermind, you’ve always retained odd information.” Miles pinched the bridge of his nose, his head shaking as he clearly fought a smile.

Phoenix’s nose suddenly began to burn and he inhaled air before quickly burying his nose in the bend of his elbow, several small sneezes being projected into his pink sweater. He coughed afterwards, his diaphragm aching heavily. He hated being sick, he didn’t like all the sneezing, the struggles to breathe, the copious amounts of snot oozing from his heated nose.

“Have you not been taking medication?”

Phoenix shook his head in response, unable to verbally respond with how clogged up his throat felt. He grabbed a plastic cup off the counter and quickly filled it up in the small kitchen sink, drinking the water until some dribbled down his chin.

“I lost it a couple days ago, Dollie was supposed to be helping me find it.”

“Is Dollie her actual name?”

“No, no,” Phoenix coughed again, his face flushed from a fever that was popping up, “her name is Dahlia, Dahlia Hawthorne.” He didn’t notice the look of shock and horror that spread across Miles’s face, distracted by his phone ringing.

He answered the phone with a nasally greeting, his mood visibly dropping when he heard who it was. He slipped the phone back in his pocket then grabbed a medical mask, stomping towards the door.

“I’ll be right back, some guy wants to talk to me.” Phoenix said before slamming the door.

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

With that resounding slam, Miles was left alone in Wright’s dwellings, his thoughts spiraling. He was filled with worry and dread at the thought of Wright being in a relationship with a woman that had murdered her own sister and framed someone else, a woman who had faked her own kidnapping years prior with help of another. Dahlia Hawthorne was very much not good news.

He glanced around the room he was in just to ground himself, noting that every single object or item in the room forced him to remember that Wright, his soulmate and childhood friend, was most definitely not safe. He could feel himself struggling to breathe and had to flee the building, his heart racing and his surroundings growing blurrier. His fists clenched and unclenched in an attempt to stimulate his nerves. The ground would not slip away from him, not today and not any day in the future.

The birds were chirping without a worry, but the leaves had turned up to expose their veins as clouds rolled in and all he could think about was the fact that Wright had no umbrella. He adjusted his cravat with a sullen expression, his eyes red with tears that refused to flow.

His soulmate, his Phoenix Wright, was enamored with a terrible, terrible excuse for a human being. Hold on, his soulmate, perhaps there was something that could be done with the chain that bound the two. He looked down at the ever-twinkling golden chain, reaching to touch it with his fingers, but feeling it pass through his grasp with a cold breeze, similar to that he’d heard of ghost encounters. Focusing on the bond, he envisioned Wright in his mind, the atrocious spiked hair and the mismatched blue and brown eyes being the first things to appear. The rest of his face followed suit, completing the imagined picture of his soulmate. He’d never given much thought about the chain before, but found that opening up to it resulted in something unexpected.

Wright’s feelings flooded him, a sense of irritation and contempt washing over him and nearly knocking him off balance. He could just barely find a slight tinge of confusion coming from Wright as well, wondering if maybe what he’d just done was not a one-way flow. Further anger boiled over his friend, forcing Miles to sit down on the dirty steps that led up to Wright’s dorm. His head was spinning and his surroundings were screaming at him, every little noise, every small cloud of smells, they all seemed to be attacking him, his senses being overwhelmed.

Miles’s world was going darker, yet darker, his body slowly shutting down. He forced himself up onto his feet, stumbling down the steps and making his way to a quiet area. His salvation in the moment turned out to be a small public bathroom, locking the door behind him as he collapsed to the floor. His breathing grew more uneven as he was disturbed by the ringing of his phone.

Lifting his phone from inside his coat pocket, he looked at the caller identification, spotting a professional image he’d snapped of the detective that often worked with him. He brushed aside his own reflection of his face falling apart in favor of answering the phone without even a polite greeting.

“Heya, sir! We just took in a suspect from a murder case and he keeps mentioning you! Do ya know anyone by the name of Phoenix Wright?” Gumshoe’s voice was boisterous through the speaker, yet Mile’s heart grew cold with fear.

“That I do.” He finally managed to get out, if not a bit hoarse.

“You sound rough, pal, you okay?” How could such a dense detective always manage to see right through him? He felt as if the entire world was closing around him.

“I am fine, detective, tell me of what happened this instant.”

“Right. Well, this guy was found near the body of another college student named Doug Swallow. We’re waiting on the autopsy report right now, but it’s clear as day your pal’s a murderer, sir. He’s in the detention center right now.”

Miles wasn’t sure if he was capable of responding further without dissolving into an unprofessional babble, simply humming in response and ending the call. Gumshoe had always possessed a loud voice and it was only now that that voice was assisting in his current downfall, the words echoing throughout his mind and ringing in his ears. Wright had been arrested for a murder. He could feel something near devastation through the chain that now burned his wrist. What could he do now?

[sofiamantegafan110]

RATING HELLFIRE GALA OUTFITS (LONG POST ALERT!)

EMMA FROST- 1. I LIKE THE ONE-PIECE OUTFIT AND THE HEADGEAR. PLUS, THE SHOES ARE PRETTY. THIS IS MY FAVORITE LOOK OF THE THREE. 10/10

2. I LIKE THE CROWN AND THE POWER-GIRL-STYLE BOOB WINDOW BUT THE OUTFIT COVERS EVERYTHING. IT’S SO UN-EMMA. 5/10

3. I LIKE THE BEAD-STYLE DRESS AND THE GLOVES BUT THE SIDE-SLIT THINGIES REALLY PUT ME OFF. I MEAN, DOES SHE EVEN HAVE LINGERIE UNDER THERE? THERE’S A LOT OF PERVS IN THE X-MEN. WHAT IF, LIKE, TOAD OR FABIAN CORTEZ TRY TO TAKE A LOOK UNDER THERE? PLUS, NOTHING CAN BEAT THE FIRST OUTFIT. I GIVE THIS A 8/10

ROGUE- I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS OUTFIT. THE PERM, THE SUNGLASSES AND THE COLLAR. IT’S SO FITTING. 9/10

ANGEL- I MEAN, I LIKE THE HAREM PANTS BUT THE REST JUST DOESN’T LOOK THAT INTERESTING. 4/10

RACHEL SUMMERS- 9/10. I LIKE EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS ONE TOO BUT I JUST DON’T THINK IT’D SURVIVE THE COMPETITION.

CAPTAIN BRITAIN- 9/10. IT’S A GOOD OUTFIT BUT I DON’T LIKE THE ARMORED CHESTPLATE.

STORM- EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS OUTFIT IS AMAZING. I LOVE THE HAIR AND THE STORM AESTHETIC. 10/10

KATE PRYDE- 6/10. I LIKE THE SLEEVES, THE COLLAR AND THE BONE-PIN THINGIES BUT IT DOESN’T LOOK LIKE SOMETHING SHE’D WEAR.

PENANCE- 10/10. MONET IS FASHIONABLE AS ALWAYS. I LIKE THE HEADGEAR, THE HAIR, THE PANTS AND THE GLOVES.

MARVEL GIRL- ALSO 10/10. I ESPECIALLY LIKE THE HAIR, CAPE, SHOULDER PADS, SLEEVES AND THE CROWN-THINGY RADIATING AROUND HER HEAD.

CYCLOPS- 6/10. CYCLOPS ISN’T THE MOST FASHIONABLE X-MAN BUT I DO LIKE THE VISOR AND THE COLOR SCHEME.

MASTERMIND- 2/10. THE VICTORIAN ERA DOESN’T SUIT HIM. NEXT!

SELENE- SOMEONE COMMENTED THAT SHE HAD A NICKI MINAJ- STYLE PONYTAIL WHICH I LIKE AND UNLIKE MASTERMIND, THE VICTORIAN LOOK IS A BIG HIT FOR HER. BUT MEANWHILE, IT DOESN’T MATCH UP TO THE OL’ CORSET AND LINGERIE. 7/10

MADROX- 5/10. NOT SURE ABOUT THIS ONE.

SUNSPOT- 9/10. IT’S PRETTY GOOD. AND I DON’T LIKE A LOT OF HIS LOOKS.

WOLVERINE- 9/10. IT’S NOT AS GOOD AS THE OTHERS BUT I LIKE THE YELLOW AND BLUE COLOR SCHEME. THE GLOVES ARE GOOD TOO.

SYNCH- 10/10. THE JACKET IS THE ONLY THING I LIKE ABOUT THIS OUTFIT BUT IT’S TOO GOOD TO PUT ON A LOWER SCALE.

CANNONBALL- 3/10. THE COLOR SCHEME’S THE ONLY THING I LIKE ABOUT THIS.

SUNFIRE- 4/10. THE MASK IS THE ONLY THING APPEALING TO MY INTERESTS.

POLARIS- 10/10. SOME PEOPLE MIGHT NOT LIKE THAT IT LOOKS LIKE SHE’S BEING STRANGLED BY A POOL FLOATIE BUT I THINK IT LOOKS GOOD.

NORTHSTAR- 3/10. THE HAIR’S THE ONLY THING I LIKE ABOUT THIS.

DAKEN- 2/10. REALLY, DUDE? YOU’RE WAY TOO GOOD-LOOKING FOR A TUX.

AURORA- 10/10. THE DRESS IS A NICE TOUCH.

PRODIGY- 10/10. WORK IT, DAVID! HE LOOKS PRETTY GOOD PULLING OFF A DRAG QUEEN OUTFIT. I ESPECIALLY LIKE THIS WINGS AND EYE MAKEUP.

EYE-BOY- 9/10. NICE WORK, TREV. LETTING YOUR EYES SEE THE LIGHT. I LIKE THE DRESS-THINGY.

BISHOP- 8/10. I LIKE THE RED. AND THE SUNGLASSES.

SEBASTIAN SHAW- 1/10. NO. YOU WEREN’T FASHIONABLE BEFORE THE EYEPATCH AND WHEELCHAIR AND YOU CERTAINLY AREN’T NOW.

PYRO- 5/10. IT’S ALRIGHT BUT BASIC.

BANSHEE- 4/10. NO COMMENT.

ICEMAN- 3/10. NO, BOBBY. JUST NO.

PSYLOCKE- 10/10. THE DRESS, THE PURPLENESS AND THE HAIR ARE ALL JUST SO AMAZING.

MISTER SINISTER- 2/10. BASIC.

EXODUS- 7/10. GOOD BUT IT JUST LOOKS LIKE THE STUFF HE USUALLY WEARS.

HAVOK- 8/10. THE COAT IS SO STYLISH. IT’S A NICE TOUCH.

MYSTIQUE- 10/10. THE EVIL QUEEN LOOK ALWAYS SUITED HER AND THE FEATHERS HELP.

DAZZLER- 10/10. I LOVE THE SPARKLES. ALISON ALWAYS TRAVELS IN STYLE.

LOA- 9/10. THE LIONFISH DRESS AND SPINES ARE GOOD BUT SHE’S MAKING A MOVE ON MERCURY AND IS TRYING TO RUIN THE BEST RELATIONSHIP OF KRAKOA.

MERCURY- 10/10. SHE’S LIKE A PSYCHEDELIC RAINBOW. IT’S SO COOL THAT SHE CAN PULL OFF NAKEDNESS. HOPEFULLY SHE WON’T GET TOGETHER WITH LOA. REALLY, LOA JUST NEEDS TO SHOVE IT. GO CESSILY! YASS KWEEN!

NIGHTCRAWLER- 5/10- BASIC. NEXT!

PIXIE- 10/10. I NEVER THOUGHT I’D ADMIT THIS BUT THE GOTHIC LOOK IS PRETTY. AND LET’S NOT FORGET ABOUT THE PERM AND BUTTERFLIES IN HER HAIR.

MIRAGE- 6/10. NOT SURE ABOUT THIS BUT I DO LOVE THE SKIRT.

KARMA- 9/10. I LOVE THE PINK.

MAGIK- 10/10. SHE’S REALLY PULLING OUT ALL THE STOPS. IT’S AMAZING.

WARPATH- 4/10. THE SPIKY SHOULDER PADS ARE NICE BUT THE REST; NO.

MAGNETO- 6/10. I LIKE THE STEAMPUNK PIMP STYLE BUT IT’D LOOK GOOD ON SOMEONE ELSE. LIKE WIND DANCER. WHY COULDN’T SOFIA GET DRESSED UP FOR THE HELLFIRE GALA?! WHYYYYYYYYYY?????

THE UNIVERSE IS HORSESHIT.

FRENZY- 10/10. LOVE THE BLUE, THE HEADGEAR AND THE DRESS AND SLEEVES. SHE’S JUST SO AMAZING.

WIZ KID- 10/10. ONCE AGAIN, HAVING FEMALE ATTIRE WORKS PERFECTLY. ARE WE SURE WIZ KID ISN’T ACTUALLY GENDERQUEER?

KHORA- 10/10 OUR NEWEST ADDITION IS WORKING IT. THE HAIR AND THE LOLITA-STYLE IS SO AMAZING. IT’S TOO BAD SHE DIDN’T ACTUALLY APPEAR IN THE ISSUE. WHY COULDN’T KHORA APPEAR IN S.W.O.R.D.’S ADDITION TO THE HELLFIRE GALA CROSSOVER?! WHYYYYYYYY???????

THE UNIVERSE IS HORSESHIT. AGAIN.

MANIFOLD- 10/10. I LIKE THE JACKET.

JUBILEE- 8/10. THE DRESS IS GOOD BUT MAYBE SHE SHOULD DO MORE WITH HER HAIR.

GAMBIT- 5/10. JUST NO.

MONARCH- 8/10. I DIDN’T LIKE THE OUTFIT BUT I LIKE THE MONOCHROME LOOK.

GLORIANA- 9/10. PRETTY DRESS, PRETTY WINGS, PRETTY COLORS BUT I’M GETTING KINDA BORED OF THIS.

RICTOR- 8/10. THE VINE IMPRINT ON THE CLOAK IS HOT.

DOMINO AND SAGE- BOTH 9/10. I THINK THEY SHOULD’VE DONE MORE. I’M NOT POSTING THE PICS OF WOLVERINE, BEAST AND KID OMEGA BECAUSE THEY ALL LOOK THE SAME.

WELL, THAT’S THAT. ENJOY!

[ecto-american]

Prom Season

Phic Phight Oneshot for Rikaleeta and ghostgothgeek: As Prom draws nearer, Danny finds that he has competition in asking Sam to prom. Danny/Sam

Read on AO3 and FFN

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"Dude, you're staring again," Tucker nudged him. Danny blinked, snapping out of his daze, and he stood up straight, tapping his fingers anxiously on the counter.

"Sorry, dude, it's just. What the hell would Dale want with Sam?" he scowled.

The jock was standing near Sam, the two chatting idly by Sam's favorite part of the comics store, the vinyl section. Sam was smiling, nodding and agreeing with whatever Dale was talking to her about.

"Dale's been eying Valerie lately, maybe he's asking Sam about her?" Tucker suggested. He smiled politely at a customer who came into his line, promptly beginning to check them out. "Even so, why do you care? Sammy's a big girl."

"Prom season's coming up, somebody might ask her," Danny argued lightly.

"And why's that matter?" Tucker asked. In no time at all, the customer had paid and left, and the two were left standing in the mostly empty comics store.

"Dude, you know guys!" Danny grumbled, throwing his hands up as if it was obvious. "They only want one thing, especially after prom! You should know. Don't you and Star plan on finally doing it after prom?"

"Probably, but mostly because we've already been doing it," Tucker shrugged. Danny choked on nothing.

"Wait, what? How come you didn't tell me!?" Danny asked. Tucker opened his mouth to reply, only to jerk his head to Sam.

Dale had left the store seemingly, and Sam was already at the counter, clutching a new vinyl. Danny chuckled.

"This is why we can't visit Tucker at work, you'll always end up with something," he teased her. She rolled her eyes.

"But Tucker works here now, so he'll be sweet and let me use his employee discount?" she half-asked hopefully, staring at Tucker with a bright smile. He sighed, and he entered his employee discount code as he rang her up. "Thank you!"

"Anytime," he assured her. He handed her her bag. "So did Dale ask you to prom?" Sam snorted in amusement.

"Oh hell no," she replied. "He wanted to know if anybody had asked Valerie, and if I thought his plan to ask her would go over well."

Tucker sent Danny a sideways "I told you so" smirk, and Danny made an annoyed grumble.

"Either way, you ready to drag me to Hot Topic?" Danny asked.

"Only every day," Sam said. She turned to Tucker. "You close tonight, right? Do you want us to swing by and take you home?" Tucker shook his head no.

"Nah, it's okay!" he assured her. "I have my uncle's old car now, remember?" Sam lit up a bit.

"Oh yeah! Well, just drive careful!"

Tucker waved her off with a grin.

"Don't worry about me. You two lovebirds have fun," he teased. "But not too much fun."

Danny could feel his cheeks burn. A glance at Sam, and he could see her own face flushing some. However, she rolled her eyes and jokingly flipped Tucker off, getting one in response as they walked out and into the mall.

"Do you want me to carry your bag?" Danny offered, holding his hand out.

"Sure!" Sam agreed, and she handed it over. "Have you thought about the piercing? I'll buy you one if you're going for it."

"Eh, I'm still trying to figure out how badly my mom would flip if she saw that I got my nose pierced, and if it'd be worth it lecture," Danny shrugged.

"You should totally do it, then deflect it by coming out as Danny Phantom," she joked. Danny snorted. "Come on, we could match!" Sam had gotten her left nostril pierced almost a year ago, currently occupied by a tiny black skull, as well as four total piercings per ear. As expected, her mom nearly lost it over the nose charm. She poked his nose. "You could get a little white ghost charm." He couldn't help but smile.

"Now you're tempting me to risk it," he admitted.

He gestured to the Hot Topic, and Sam went inside first, him right behind her. She went right for the piercings display, looking. After a moment, she tapped on the case, looking over her shoulder for Danny.

"See? Right there, you could get that cute little silver ghost," she told him. Danny peeked over her shoulder. She pointed at another charm, one in the shape of a laptop. "Oh! And Tucker could get that one! We could all kinda match!"

"Pretty sure Tucker's mom would actually kill him if he came home with another piercing," Danny replied. Sam had already convinced Tucker of getting his ears pierced, and his mom was Very Unhappy about it. "Just like my mom would kill me if I came home with a nose piercing."

"You're already half dead though," Sam pointed out. Danny gave a half shrug and smile.

"Got me there. Alright, I'll get it," he said. Sam grinned widely, going to the counter to immediately ask for an employee to retrieve it.

They only browsed a bit more before they finally left. No sooner were they out the door…

"Sam!" a familiar voice called out excitedly. The not-lovebirds glanced over to see Paulina and Elliot coming up to them, Paulina a few steps ahead as she excitedly half-jogged over to Sam. Elliot was carrying two Starbucks cups, taking his time following. Paulina threw her arms around Sam, hugging her tightly, the goth only giving a half smile and lightly patting her back. "If I knew you were coming to the mall, I would have invited you to get your nails done with us! Look, Elliot and I match!"

Paulina pulled away to show off white nails with pink details.

"Oh they look nice!" Sam complimented. "It's okay though. Coming today was kinda a last minute thing." Or rather, they decided to hang out here after catching the Box Ghost, who was making himself home in one of the new stores that hadn't quite opened yet.

"You got me Starbucks?" Danny joked as Elliot finally came close enough to properly hear him. Elliot rolled his eyes. "How sweet."

"If you wanna give me the four dollars it costs, sure," he joked back. He handed Paulina the clear pink drink, and she took a long sip from it. Danny noticed that he did kinda match her, with black nails and matching details, only in a pastel blue.

"What are you guys up to?" Paulina asked. "We were just about to see if Macy's had any cute prom dresses out yet." The mentioning of prom made Danny's stomach feel a bit weirdly queasy.

"We're gonna go get Danny's nose pierced!" Sam replied, pointing to his nose. Danny snapped out of the feeling.

"Wait, what? We're doing that today?" he asked. Sam grinned.

"You're eighteen, they'll let you!" she replied. She reached into the Hot Topic bag to pull out the piercing. "I gotta make you put it on before you change your mind." Oh, a bit too late already.

"Ooh, that's a lot more interesting than prom dresses!" Elliot mused. "I can drive us." He put his free hand to his ear. "I've been thinking about getting another piercing anyway." Paulina hummed thoughtfully.

"Spike should be working today, so I might see if he has my new tattoo design ready," Sam mused.

Another thing that her mom, if she were to ever find out, would flip out over. Sam already had two that her family were oblivious to. Danny knew that she had a spider on a web on her ribcage; he had held her hand while she got that one done (and nearly ended up with a broken hand). The other was a black and deep purple rose and vine on her thigh, which he had only seen right after she had gotten it. Jazz, out of everybody, had gone with her to get it, and even came back with a tattoo herself. Though Jazz, like a nerd, had opted for a book tattoo. Danny had never seen it before outside of the photo Jazz took of it, but knew that it was on her ribcage and something Spike gave her as an anniversary present.

"I guess that settles it!" Elliot grinned. "Let's go to the tattoo and piercing shop!"

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After somehow surviving Elliot's crappy little car, only somewhat affectionately called "the shitbox", they were huddled in the waiting room area of the shop. Paulina, already filling out the usual safety and health and consent forms, was standing and staring at the wall of previous art done.

"You gonna get a tattoo instead?" Elliot teased her as he handed the receptionist his own filled paperwork. Paulina shot him a smile, but still slapped his shoulder.

"Papa would kill me," she insisted.

"So? Get it where nobody will see," Elliot replied. Paulina playfully slapped him again.

Danny rolled his eyes, continuing to fill out his form as he drafted all the excuses he'd have to give his mom when she inevitably chewed his ass out when he got home. Whelp, he was already bound to be grounded sooner or later cause of the ghosts. Might as well spice up the grounding reasoning once in a while.

Sam appeared from the back, clutching a piece of paper up. Spike was behind her. Sam made a beeline for Danny.

"Dude, look at how nice it is!" she told him, holding it out for him to see. Danny glanced up. It was a skull with flowers growing out of it.

"Oh, that's sick," he commented.

"I know, right?" Sam grinned. Danny smiled, returning his attention to the paperwork.

"So you wanna get that this Saturday?" Spike spoke up.

"Uh, Danny are you free Saturday?" Sam asked. Danny glanced up at her, raising an eyebrow.

"After today I'll probably be grounded," he joked, signing his name for the last time on the forms. Sam chuckled.

"True," she replied. "Hmm, ah whatever. I can tough it out." Danny quickly looked up again as it suddenly hit him why he needed to be free. Sam had already turned to Spike. "Yeah, let's go for Saturday."

"Oh, if you want somebody around, I can come," Elliot popped up.

"That'd be awesome!" Sam grinned. "This one's going on my back, so it's supposed to hurt."

"Well, you can break my hand, I don't care," Elliot assured her. Danny's chest squeezed a bit as he felt a hot flash hit him.

"No it's okay, I can just sneak out!" he said immediately. Sam glanced at him.

"Nah, it's okay. I don't wanna get you into anymore trouble," she assured him.

"I don't care," Danny quickly blurted out. Spike chuckled.

"Man, Mrs. Fenton's scary when she's pissed, your best bet is to just obey her," Spike told him. He nodded at Danny. "Did Jazz tell you about how she nearly got into a fistfight at the bridal shop a few days ago?"

"No?" Danny raised an eyebrow. "What happened?"

"Basically when Jazz went in for her dress fitting, she had apparently gained a little bit of stress weight since the last fitting, cause she's been driving herself insane over grad school applications," Spike explained. Danny nodded understandingly. "and the lady fitting her dress kind of gushed over it cause she thought Jazz got pregnant. It made her cry, and man. Mrs. Fenton went off on her, and apparently nearly began throwing hands with the manager."

"Oh man, poor Jazz," Sam said somberly. Danny couldn't agree more as he gave a low short whistle at the audacity. Between graduating early, grad school applications, and getting married, he had never seen Jazz look so stressed out. "Why don't you guys push the wedding back a bit?"

"She'll get more money from FASFA and scholarships, plus better housing, if we get married sooner, and she doesn't wanna just elope and have a party later," Spike shook his head a bit. "But uh, either way though, I got some numbing cream for ya Sam if you're worried about pain." Spike shot Danny a reassuring smile and a wink. He felt a little better. Sam sighed with relief.

"Please," she confessed. "It's not too bad when Danny's here, but if I'm alone I know I'm going to get a little anxious."

"Aw come on, I'm not reassuring?" Elliot teased. To Danny's relief, Sam also playfully slapped Elliot on his shoulder.

"Are you kidding me? You'd probably actually ruin my tattoo by making me laugh the entire time," she told him. Danny's heart squeezed again, and he got up to silently hand the receptionist the forms.

"I think I might get a tattoo," Paulina finally spoke up. Elliot's interest was immediately piqued.

"Oh?" he asked. Paulina nodded, pointing to a tattoo on the wall, a pretty collection of flowers.

"This is sooo pretty, I think I'd get something like this," she said. Sam glanced at it.

"That'd be like, what? Four hundred-ish dollars, Spike?" she guessed. Spike glanced at the reference photo and nodded.

"Yeah, give or take," he replied. Paulina made a face.

"Maybe one day in the future," she decided. "I need money for a prom dress." Sam waved a hand.

"Prom dresses are temporary, tattoos are forever!" she told her. Paulina made a noise of disinterest, and Sam shrugged.

"Danny, did you wanna go first?" the receptionist asked as she glanced at the three stacks of piercing requests.

Danny coughed a bit nervously. He glanced at Sam, and he nodded.

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"Thanks again, Spike!" Sam beamed. Spike smiled fondly at her, offering her a hug. She gladly accepted it.

"Anything for my favorite future sister-in-law," he teased. Sam's face instantly burned. Danny scoffed as he lightly touched his new piercing anxiously.

"Sam isn't related to us, dude," he told Spike. Spike gave him a weird look, then shook his head.

"You're lucky you know how to do math, man," he told him. "Also let me know if Mrs. Fenton kills you." Danny gave a nod.

"Don't worry, you'd be invited to the funeral," he joked. Spike chuckled. "Also I give you permission to tattoo my corpse before they put me down."

"Sick," Spike grinned. "I'll give you some of those lil blob ghosts the float around."

Elliot and Paulina were chatting a mile a minute outside the shop. When the not-lovebirds came out, Paulina immediately pushed her hair behind her ear to show off her new helix piercings. Danny could already see Elliot's singular orbital piercing.

"Look! I feel so punk!" Paulina gushed. Sam snorted in amusement.

"Girl, I'm gonna have to get you into a lot more black and leather before you're anywhere near punk," she teased. Paulina giggled.

"Maybe some leather pants," she mused. She shrugged. "Anywho! Elliot and I were gonna go look at the prom dresses! Wanna tag along?"

"Yeah, sounds fun!" Danny agreed.

"Yeah! I still need to get mine," Sam agreed. "I really want your opinion on a dress anyway," she said to Paulina. "Cause you know I'm going to customize mine no matter what I get."

"Yeah, I might ask you to do the same to mine, like help me tailor something if needed," Paulina mused. "I need my dress to be absolutely perfect. But we need to make another Starbucks run."

"Really?" Elliot raised an eyebrow at her. "Boo, this is your third trip today." Paulina pouted cutely at him. He playfully chuckled. "Alright, alright. I kinda want another iced coffee anyway."

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"So, has Elliot talked to you about it yet?" Paulina asked, taking a long sip of her drink as they waited near the door to the popular coffee chain. Danny made a confused "hm?" noise as he took a sip of his own. "That he wanted to ask Sam to prom?"

Danny's heart stopped, and he instantly returned his attention back to the pair of goths. They were customizing their Starbucks drink at the counter, smiling happily and chatting casually about something he couldn't heart.

God, of course! Fuck, he was so focused on every other dude that he forgot that Elliot wasn't gay. God damn it, and Sam would potentially actually say yes to him too.

"Uh. Um. I-uh." Danny coughed into his elbow as he tried to think of some way to respond that sounded normal. "No, he, um. Hasn't said anything to me yet." Nice response, Fenton.

"Oh, well, be prepared I guess," Paulina replied, taking a sip of her fancy-looking pink drink in the clear plastic cup.

Danny took a huge gulp of his coffee as he tried to process it. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He needed to think of how to reply to Elliot if the guy were to actually confront him or talk to him about it. His gut twisted. How was he supposed to reply? Elliot didn't deserve to go out with his Sam. What the fuck was that moron thinking? They were just friends.

"You guys ready?" Elliot glanced over his shoulder at them.

"Yup!" Paulina chirped. Elliot walked over with them, Sam quickly behind.

"You got your hourly Starbucks?" Elliot teased her.

"Mhm!" she hummed.

"You almost need to start working at Starbucks," Elliot told her.

"But then I'd just spend the whole paycheck on Starbucks," Paulina playfully protested.

"Fair, fair," Elliot hummed.

They exited, and they all piled into Elliot's car. Danny and Sam in the back, Paulina in her normal position in the passenger's seat.

"Do you know what kind of dress you're looking for?" Paulina asked as Elliot pulled out of the parking lot. Sam nodded.

"Yeah, definitely something black or purple," she said. "I'm really into long dresses lately, so probably a long dress, but I dunno! Short dresses are cute too."

"Oh short dresses are sooo in right now," Paulina agreed. "I want a short dress! Definitely pink, I want a really cute pastel pink maybe? But any shade of pink, I think it looks best on me."

"Hmm, yeah but greens look really good on you too," Elliot spoke up. "Like pastel and light greens?"

"They do but it's prom so I really want something pink," Paulina replied.

"Hmm, I think I look good in purple and black," Sam mused. "What do I look good in Danny?"

"Purple, black, red, and green, but like? An ecto green if that makes sense?" Danny said. Sam thought about it.

"Yeah, I really do like ecto green," she agreed. She shot him a sly smile. "Reminds me of Danny Phantom. And well. Ya know. I think he's really cute." Danny flushed, shyly smiling back.

"Ugh he's sooo cute," Paulina gushed. "His eyes are the most beautiful shade of green I've ever seen. Elliot, why are your eyes so dark." Elliot chuckled.

"Cause both of my parents have dark green eyes," he replied. Paulina huffed.

"I think that was rude of you. You should have bright green eyes like the ghost boy," she said.

"Yeah, it's pretty rude," Elliot agreed. "I'll fix that tomorrow."

"Do you actually think Danny Phantom's cute?" Danny asked Sam. She smiled, giving a half-shrug.

"Absolutely one of the cutest guys I've ever seen," she confirmed.

Danny took a long drink of his coffee, hoping that chugging some of it would help explain why his cheeks were beginning to burn.

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"Oh, this is sooo your color!"

"Oh my god! I love it! Do they have it in my size?"

"Hmm, um, lemme see...yeah! They do! Here!"

"Ugh I cannot wait to try it on! Oh! Oh look! Look at these sleeves, it's like a princess dress! I'm going to grab one to try it on."

"Ooo, that's going to look so good on you. Hm, I think I might try on that one too, cause it comes in dark purple and those sleeves kinda look witchy...Danny what do you think?"

Danny snapped out of his zoning out to look at Sam. The goth was holding up a short dress with long, flowy sleeves. It was a mid-dark purple and plain, though he had no doubt that Sam would likely customize it to her liking. She did that a lot with clothes.

"Yeah, looks good," he said neutrally.

"Oh, that'll look so good with your bat heels!" Elliot pipped up. Danny nearly forgot that the dude was sitting with him on what was dubbed the boyfriend bench near the dressing rooms. "Especially if you wear a corset over the midsection. Like if you found a purple version of that red one you have, with the black lace over it."

"Oo, that would potentially look so cute," Sam mused. She put the dress over her arm on top of two others. "I'm gonna go try these on."

"Oh, I should too," Paulina mused. Unlike Sam, her arms were overflowing with four, five? Danny counted at least ten different potential dresses if he went by the different looking fabrics alone.

"Yeah, you need to narrow some down," Sam told her.

"They're all just so pretty!" Paulina complained. "I wanna wear them all!"

"Well, let's just eliminate some," she suggested.

The girls went off to the dressing room, and Danny leaned back against the boyfriend bench. He pulled his phone out, and he replied to a message from Tucker and another from his mom. Man, was he not ready to face her later.

"So, Sam huh."

Danny glanced at Elliot.

"Uh, yeah. She's great," Danny replied shortly.

"She is, she is," he agreed with a slight hum. Elliot shifted to rest his elbows on his knees. "Ya know I was thinking about asking her to prom." Danny felt a lump stick in his throat.

"Really?" was all he could think to reply.

"Yeah!" Elliot smiled. "I mean, yeah. I wasn't the best dudes four years ago, but I feel a lot better about myself, ya know? I think I finally know who I am now, and I still really like Sam. She's funny, smart, really pretty. Love hanging out with her. Kinda wondering if she feels the same, and if she'd be down to go with me. What do you think?"

Danny bit his tongue to avoid an unnecessarily harsh reply, but he did get anger. How dare he. After all the lies he told Sam, and the way he lied and manipulated her. Sam deserved better than that.

"I um. I don't think you should go for it," Danny said hesitantly. Elliot raised a curious eyebrow.

"Why, did she tell you something?" he asked. "Or did somebody else ask her?"

"Um. Well, not exactly," he hesitated. Danny bit his lower lip. "I mean, I know she likes you. As a friend!" he quickly added. "But uh, I dunno man. Just don't think it's a good idea."

"What do you mean, is somebody else going to ask her?" Elliot asked.

"Why does it matter?" Danny nearly snapped. "You asked me what I thought, and I said it."

Elliot snickered in amusement, rolling his eyes. It only served to irritate Danny even more. Foreign phony. God, why did they even hang out with Elliot? Paulina and Elliot made sense, cause they were both huge prep kids and did cheerleading and soccer respectively, making them both jocks. But why did he have to hang out with Elliot. Well, because Sam and Paulina were friends now, and that meant that Danny also had to be friends with Paulina's friends. Of fucking course.

"What's so funny?" he demanded to know.

"I think I get why," Elliot smirked.

"What do you mean?" Danny questioned. Elliot just shook his head. Danny opened his mouth to question again.

"Hey! Whatcha think?"

Danny shut his mouth as Paulina bounce out in her first dress option. It was a bright pink dress that came to her knees, the skirt incredibly puffy and reminding Danny of a ballerina tutu, with inch wide straps.

"Oh, it looks so good on you boo," Elliot cooed to her. Paulina beamed, twirreling. "But that may also just be you, you look fabulous in everything." Paulina put her hands over her chest.

"Thank you," she gushed. "Can you take my photo? I wanna compare all the dresses I wear."

"Of course," Elliot agreed, pulling his phone out. He snapped a photo of her.

"Oh Sam!" Paulina squealed.

Danny noticed the goth coming out in a fully black dress that also came only to her knees, with a much slimmer skirt and short sleeves. It looked fairly plain, but man. Sam still made it look great. Danny was glad he was sitting, because he knew he was weak kneed.

Sam was smiling brightly, giving Paulina a light wave.

"I take it you like it?" Sam questioned, doing a quick turn around.

"Girl you always look so good in black," Paulina praised.

"She's sooo right," Elliot agreed. "It just looks so good on you, no matter what. Just." Elliot made a chef kiss motion. Sam flushed a light pink, and Danny glared at him. Dude, shut up. "No wonder you're goth. You were just made for black."

"I dunno, I think you're exaggerating," she replied. Sam glanced down at her outfit. "I mean, it's fairly simple. What do you think, Danny?"

Danny swallowed hard.

"Oh uh, I think it looks great!" he said, smiling brightly. Sam returned it. "I mean like. It's kinda? Plain but I know you'd make it something great. You always do." Sam hummed.

"Mm yeah. It's pretty plain, but I dunno if I wanna put in the amount of work it'd take to make this dress really poppin'," she mused. "I'm gonna go try another one on."

The two girls went back to the dressing room, and Danny could hear their lighthearted conversation. Soon as they turned the corner, he spoke up.

"What do you mean?" Danny demanded to know. Elliot snorted.

"Bro, just admit that you like her, and that you don't want me to take her to prom," he said.

"Where on earth would you get that idea!?" Danny scowled. Elliot rolled his eyes.

"Dude, you've been crazy about her since like, what? Ninth grade at the earliest? Paulina says you two have been making googly eyes at each other since like third grade," he said. Danny felt his cheeks flush. It had not been since the third grade. Had it?

"It's not like that," he insisted. "I just, you know. Really love and worry about her, she's my best friend."

"Best friends don't get worked up like this, this much, over a mutual friend asking them out."

Danny just glared at Elliot before rubbing his face with the palms of his hands. He took a deep breath, exhaling hard.

"How's it look?" Sam's voice asked. Danny glanced up, and his heart just absolutely flipped.

She looked amazing. Beautiful. Stunning. Like a plant goddess, a model, an angel. He felt like there wasn't a flaw to be found, and he had never seen somebody look more enchanting. Her dress made her look even more divine, emphasising and showing off the best parts of her. The purple matching her eyes, the dress fitting her absolutely perfect as it flowed almost to the floor and the strapless feature making her hair flow smoothly over her shoulders. This dress was perfect for her.

But none of those descriptors came out. Instead all he could do is nervously swallow, tongue tied as he felt his cheeks burn up. He struggled to pick just one of those adjectives, and his brain settled for just saying nothing at all and simply staring at her instead.

"Oh, you just look so lovely!" Elliot spoke up. He stood up, going over to walk around her. "It fits you perfect, like it hugs your hips just right and really shows off your-"

"Pretty!" Danny suddenly half-yelled. The group looked at him oddly, and he felt his face flush harder. "It makes you look pretty!"

"Thank you," Sam replied, pausing a bit as she raised an eyebrow at him.

"...Uh, yeah. Um, yes!" Elliot clasped his hands together. "Just stunning. I love this purple on you, it's such a beautiful color. This dress specifically was made for you."

"Dude, chill," Danny grumbled. Sam gave him a Look, and he flinched.

"Danny, can I talk to you for a moment?" Sam asked through gritted teeth.

He had no opportunity to respond, as she grabbed his arm, painfully hard owwie, and began to drag him away, towards another boyfriend bench near a jewelry display counter and out of earshot.

"What's going on?" Sam demanded to know. She finally let go of his arm, and he huffed for a moment. Instead of responding, he put his hands behind his head, pacing back and forth. She quickly grew impatient. "Well? Say something!"

"Elliot wants to ask you to prom!" he blurted out, letting his hands fall. Sam blinked.

"He does?" she asked, sounding clearly surprised and...not angry. Sam smiled a little. "Really?"

"Oh don't tell me you're gonna actually take that foreign phony up on the offer!" Danny snapped. Sam instantly glared at him, crossing her arms.

"Elliot's our friend, dude," Sam reminded him. "Why do you care?"

"B-b-because!" Danny's arms were moving wildly as he talked. "He lied to you for months, and you're just going to ignore all that!"

"That was years ago, and he apologized," she said. "He's more than made up for it. And he's a super sweet guy. I like him."

"You like him!?" Danny nearly shouted. Sam slapped his upper shoulder with the back of her hand.

"Calm down and lower your voice," she told him. "And well, yeah. As a friend. Maybe I kinda like him more than that too."

"What the fuck, Sam!?" Danny, in fact, did not lower his voice. He dry-heaved for a few seconds, briefly making Sam start to watch him worriedly. Finally, he took a deep breath, and he returned to a normal inside voice. "What does he have that I don't?"

She went from worried to a blank stare.

"Apparently liking me enough to say or do something, especially when I've dropped so many hints or made moves myself," she replied. She brushed past him and left, returning to their friends.

Danny found himself taking a seat on the bench as he tried to collect his thoughts and the wide range of emotions that accompanied them. He put his head in his hands, rubbing his face. God he was so fucking stupid.

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"And it's just! Why him! Why Elliot?" Danny continued to vent after spilling the whole story. Jazz gave a small hum of acknowledgement as she finished writing another name out on the envelope. She set it aside for Danny. "I've liked Sam for so long, and I thought she liked me too."

"You're an idiot," Jazz immediately concluded. Danny glared at her as he folded another wedding invite, slipping it into an already addressed envelope before putting the sticker on the back to keep it sealed shut, and a stamp on the other side. Both were sitting on the floor of the apartment she shared with Spike, with each sibling on the opposite side of the coffee table, with Jazz resting her back against the couch and Danny sitting within reaching distance of their TV.

"Hey!" he protested. Jazz gave him a Look, grabbing another envelope.

"I mean it. She does like you, and she has for a while," she told him. She began to write out another address. "You just always never responded. You pushed her off in favor of another girl or because of some weird commitment issue that you seem to have going on. So be honest with me, and yourself. What's the problem?"

Danny silently folded two more invites, repeating the process of putting them in addressed envelopes and putting the sticker and stamp on.

"...I'm scared," he finally admitted.

"What of?" Jazz asked, not looking up from her activity. Danny had to really think. He casually tossed the finished wedding invite into the 'finished' basket.

"I guess just...it not working out. What if it doesn't work out? What if it drives us apart, and we lose each other?"

"You won't know that until you try," Jazz replied.

"She might also reject me, cause of the same mentality. What if she still likes Elliot more, and-"

"Danny," Jazz interrupted. She finally looked up from writing. "You will never know what the future will and won't hold. Just talk to her, and let her be part of the choice rather than blowing it all off due to fear."

He thought about it, and he gave a small sigh.

"Yeah...I think she's kinda pissed that I haven't been letting her be part of the choice anyway," he mused. He glanced at the pile of envelopes next to her. "How many invites do you have left?"

Jazz checked her list.

"Least a hundred more to go," she sighed.

"What the fuck, you have like no friends! Who are these people!?" Danny cried out. Jazz glared at him, reaching behind her to grab a pillow to hit him with.

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Knock knock knock.

Danny floated awkwardly outside of her window. She didn't answer, but he could tell that she was there. Her light was clearly on, and he could hear her music playing.

Knock knock knock.

"Sam?" he called out. "Sam, can we please talk?" He knocked some more.

The longest minute of his life passed before he heard the music turn off. The curtains opened, and Sam was on the other side, staring incredibly annoyed at him. She gestured for him to come inside, and he did. His feet landed on the floor, and she reshut the curtains.

"What do you want?" she snapped. Danny exhaled deeply.

"Sam…" He took a deep breath. "I'm so sorry about how I've been acting. I've just been…"

"Stupid?" she suggested.

"Yeah. But more importantly. I." He paused. "I've been honestly such a huge coward. Still kinda am, actually. Like…" He swallowed nervously, glancing at the ground. "I've been too afraid to bring it up or to really even talk to you about it."

Sam cocked her head to the side. She took a few steps back, sitting down on her bed and patting the spot next to it.

"Talk to me," she encouraged. Danny plopped down next to her, turning human as he did so.

"I want to be with you," he said bluntly. "But just...I get so caught up in all these what-ifs. What if it doesn't work out? What if you get tired of me? What if you eventually realize that it sucks being with somebody who has to cancel dates or who ditches you because I have to stop Skulker or Technus or Ember? What if you get hurt because of me? What if…" he trailed off, not even wanting to get into deeper thoughts.

"I wish you had told me this sooner," Sam spoke softly. "We could have talked about it." Danny sighed.

"I know, I know. I just." He rubbed the palms of his hands up and down his thighs as he tried to provide some kind of a rational answer. "I'm afraid. Even now. I don't want to lose you."

"You're not going to lose me," Sam reassured him. She put her hand on top of one of his, and he stopped. "You're one of my best friends, and I love you so much."

"...I love you too," he confessed. He turned his wrist, moving to intertwine their fingers together. "I can't imagine a future without you being there in some way. And I just...I guess I've always been worried about you not wanting to be there anymore."

"I'll always want to be there," she smiled. She leaned in, lightly pecking his cheek. He sighed deeply in relief. "Even if we tried, and we found that it didn't work, that doesn't mean we can't still be friends after. But we'll never really know unless...you know. We tried."

"So, I guess that means that um...you'd be interested in maybe going to prom with me?" he asked.

"Of course, ya dingus." She lightly tapped his new nose ring. "So. How much trouble are you in with your mom?" Danny flinched.

"Man, let's just say I'm surprised she didn't fully kill me."

[luninosity]

*wanders by* Look what I worked on today...

Warnings for…NOT actual self-harm, but Jason spotting a scar on one of Colby’s hands, a scar he doesn’t know the story of, and briefly considering that possibility. (The actual story is much more of a cooking-related accident!) Plus general warnings for brief mention of Colby’s Awful Exes and family, & related emotional abuse.

#

“How’s this?” Jason waited, fingers resting over Colby’s hands in his. The hotel room wrapped comfort around them; it’d begun as nondescript, but had welcomed Colby’s rainbow cascade of scarves and Jason’s tidy unpacking. It was their home now, for these next two weeks of filming on location. “Helping?”

 “Very much helping, thank you.” Colby obediently didn’t move, holding both hands out. They were sitting on the bed, having changed into pajama pants and t-shirts—Colby’d borrowed one of Jason’s shirts, too large but in a cuddly flattering way—and the day had been long. They’d been filming into the evening, because Jill had wanted the specific light, dwindling away as Colby’s young and brilliant magician character got imprisoned and bound by iron and tortured, refusing to give up and lead the villains to Jason’s hero.

 The chains and cuffs had been fake, of course. Hollywood movie-making magic. A vast leap from real iron.

 But that didn’t mean they were soft or forgiving. They’d had hard edges, angled in spots, heavy, with no real padding. He’d had to struggle against them. He’d had to kneel while the villains shoved his hands to the floor and—cautiously, weight judged for performance—stepped upon them, pretending to shatter bones. The floor, and the impact, hadn’t been soft either.

 The bruises and scrapes and cuts were all too real. Colby winced as Jason spread healing salve across a tender spot. “Ow. Sorry, sorry, I know you’re being careful, I’m not complaining.”

 “Tell me if it’s hurting too much.” He tapped a finger over the back of Colby’s wrist. “And don’t apologize for it. Are you sure you don’t want me to get the medical people to check you out?”

 “They did, right after. I know you know; you were there. It’s fine, it’s not—ow—serious. It’ll heal.”

 “Might need some wrapping, though.” Jason eyed the bruises, the nicks. They shuffled purple and red across Colby’s skin, shame-faced. He didn’t like them existing, though he knew they weren’t anyone’s fault. “Just for tonight, to keep all this on. Not too tight.”

 “Whatever you think works best,” Colby agreed. “You’d know better than I would, as far as stunts and injuries. Ow, oh, drat, that one hurts a bit more.”

 That one was probably the worst, Jason judged: scraped raw, layers exposed, across Colby’s left wrist. The edge of that cuff had been both rough and sharp. And obviously his touch hadn’t been careful enough. “Shit. Sorry. Love you. Is the numbing part working, at all? It’s supposed to be helping.”

 “Oh yes,” Colby said, obligingly. “It’s already better. Thank you for doing this.”

 Jason sighed.

 “It’s true,” Colby protested. “I honestly do feel better. I’d tell you if not.” Hair tumbling to his shoulders in loose dark waves—not a wig, but extensions, left in for fantastical mystical effect—he was elfin and pretty and earnest, wearing Jason’s too-large shirt, eyes huge and blue and searching Jason’s face.

 “I know you would. But I also want to know if it’s not helping enough, okay?”

 “Yes,” Colby said meekly. “I’ll say so if it’s not working, I promise.”

 “Okay, then. Just checking.” He tried to make his touch as gentle as possible. He tried to be as soothing as he could: a protective bulk, not a threatening one. Hands offering care, not more harm. Weight and breadth positioned harmlessly on the bed, no demands.

 He knew Colby trusted him. He felt a small glow of pride that Colby did: enough to admit to being in pain, to wanting care. He loved Colby and would care for Colby with all his heart, all his strength, all his soul; not a question, not ever.

 He still hated seeing Colby in pain. Always had, always would.

 That’d be true for anyone he loved, of course. He’d had some discussions with their therapist about that, about grief and loss and Charlie and Jason’s own desperate need to save people, to be strong. He knew that about himself. But it was worse, it was the worst it could be, when the person in pain was Colby.

 Colby was the other half of his heart. The brightest piece of his life, the piece that’d dived in and reminded him how to swim and that he liked baking, the piece that’d made him laugh and drawn him into whimsical chattering conversations about wizards and dragons and romance and coffee. The piece that liked pink shirts with sequins on the sleeves, and anchovies on pizza, and history and stories and words that could steal an audience’s breath away.

 And Colby had been hurt before, so very badly, for so very long. Inside and out, physical and emotional bruises, day after day. Jason hadn’t been there then, hadn’t known him for the worst of it. But he knew now, at least as much as anyone could, after the fact.

 He’d seen Colby flinch from an unexpected touch, get wide-eyed at a large body hugging too tightly at a convention, and—the scariest of all—go silent and someplace else, someplace not present, at a drift of familiar cologne and a flash-flood of memory in the air. He knew what Colby had told him, which was enough to make Jason carefully store up a lot of emotions and then go down to the gym and beat the hell out of a punching bag for long enough to get his reactions under control.

 He knew about Colby’s family, too. The layers of those bruises—not physical, but emotional, a slow brutal evisceration of Colby’s sense of self and self-worth—went back decades. They were working on it; their therapist said that Jason being here, not leaving, not making Colby earn any crumb of affection, was the exact best thing he could do. Jason hoped so.

 He wished he could do more. He wished he could fight all of Colby’s demons. Like his character in this film, raising a sword. Lifting a shield. Fighting for a cause.

 He knew Colby’s hands pretty well, by now. He knew the way those slim graceful fingers felt in his, on his body—in his body, and oh that was always fun, Colby teasing him open and stroking him and pressing inside him. He knew Colby’s gestures on and off camera, the weight and shape of his palms, the backs of his hands, the old scars from period-piece swordfighting lessons and some small-scale stunt work, comedy pratfalls and in-role clumsiness. He knew about the short jagged line on the outside of Colby’s little finger on the right hand, from hopping a fence while filming a scene for that high-school coming-of-age comedy.

 He knew he didn’t know every smallest detail—he didn’t have a photographic memory—but he had a decent idea of Colby’s hands, he thought.

 Which was why his fingers slowed and came to a stop, as they felt something—as his gaze landed on something—that he didn’t recognize.

 Thin. White. Just above the heel of Colby’s left hand, across his palm. Long-healed—no texture at all, only noticeable if someone was paying extremely close attention, but enough to’ve left a line. Liam, Jason thought first, with a shock of anger like scarlet blood—but no, this was older than a handful of years, older than any injuries at Colby’s ex’s hands. Clearly so.

 Colby hadn’t seemed to notice—he’d been looking at Jason’s other hand, which had scooped up more salve—but he noticed the pause now. His eyes came up to find Jason’s, huge and flower-blue.

 Jason turned Colby’s hand more upward. Touched the line, very very lightly. His fingers shook.

 “Oh,” Colby said, soft with love, wry in the way of someone realizing, “no, it’s not what you’re thinking, and don’t say you weren’t thinking of at least two possibilities. It’s not either of those. I, er…well, I was about eleven years old and I’d been trying to prepare dinner for myself and I had absolutely nonexistent knife skills with regard to chopping carrots. And my father’s chef kept his knives very sharp.”

 “You were making dinner…for yourself?” He touched Colby’s palm again, traced the scar above the heel. It had plainly been a clean cut, straight, but deep enough to leave a mark once healed.

 Colby did that familiar nose-scrunch at him, the one that meant you won’t like this story. “You won’t like this story. But it wasn’t that bad.”

 “Tell me? If you want,” he amended. Not an order, not a demand. The freckle near Colby’s collarbone winked at him, playing peek-a-boo with the loose neck of Jason’s shirt.

 “Oh, of course. It’s hardly a secret.” Colby wiggled salve-smeared fingers at him. “So we were living in Paris then—Dad having been appointed as an ambassador and all, you know…”

 The storied instrument of his voice became, for an instant, more American than anything else, on the word Dad; Howard Kent personified the type of United States politician who embodied privilege, money, and self-interest above everything, including his marriage and his son.

 “…and my parents, being, er, my parents, did tend to do things like go on holiday without remembering that I existed, which meant the staff also generally forgot I existed, or took their cues from my parents, or assumed someone else had made some arrangements somewhere. So I was eleven and a bit, and I’d got used to making sandwiches and things, but I thought perhaps I’d try to cook, because I was trying to learn, you know, so I wouldn’t have to bother anyone.”

 Jason opened his mouth. Shut it.

 Colby lifted both eyebrows, inviting and amused. “Yes, go on, say it.”

 “You know everything I’m gonna say.”

 “I do. It’s all right; I’ve got you now.” Colby leaned against him, on the bed: easy contact, unremarkable, except for how it was remarkable, it was a marvel, given everything Jason knew.

 He wanted to cry for the boy Colby’d been, precocious and shy and so very alone.

 He held Colby’s hand. “I’m here. I’m always here. I’ll chop all your carrots if you need me to.”

 “You would, if I asked, wouldn’t you? Well, in any case, I managed to slice my hand open, as you might expect under the circumstances, and then I very nearly passed out from the sheer shock of it, and then after a few minutes I pulled myself together and found a first-aid kit and tried to patch it up, though it didn’t work terribly well because I was trying to do it one-handed.”

 “Jesus, Colby.” He could’ve demanded, why didn’t you call someone, a member of the security team, the household staff, a doctor, an emergency number, your parents? He didn’t.

 He knew why Colby wouldn’t. Not causing a fuss, not giving anyone a reason to disapprove or to not want him, not believing anyone would come or answer or care…

  His heart cracked open and bled more. Like younger Colby, huddled on a kitchen floor with a first-aid kit. “What happened?”

[itsthemoofacewriting]

The way she’s pulling you in

Good grief. I am the biggest pervert. Look away children, this is explicit.

It all came from my other story where I, on the spot, created a headcanon that Sanji would most definitely have a wank bank and it would be overflowing with Nami. (The other story isn’t posted yet, but it’s on the way and has nothing to do with this btw)

Summary: Nami was seductive, alluring, the sexiest person he’d ever seen in his life. He wasn’t proud, but it helped him in his private moments when it was just him and his hand. Rating: M. NSFW. 

This can also be found on AO3 and FFN. 

Enjoy!

Nami was seductive, alluring, the sexiest person he’d ever seen in his life. He wasn’t proud, but it helped him in his private moments when it was just him and his hand. NSFW.

Explicit, wank bank, sexual fantasies, masturbating, accidental exhibitionism, kinda, Sanji’s ridiculously attracted to Nami but what’s new, look at these tags, there is shame this time

Title: Wish you were here, With her sweetened breath, I take a moment, In the shape of you, Made your mark on me, The way that she’s pulling you in, I want to taste her lips,

The pantry was his safe haven.

He was pretty sure the crew forgot it even existed most of the time, but that was because it was tiny, cramped and didn’t hold anything of interest. However, for him, in those… private moments, it was ideal. The toilet never an option because someone always wanted to use it and he liked to take his time. So, all he had to do was wait for Luffy’s second snack of the night and he was out like a light. It worked like clockwork.

Which was exactly how he found himself towards the back of the pantry on a little stool between the bags sugar and flour, already palming himself through the material of his trousers. He was particularly desperate today; it’d been a while since he’d been able to do this and Nami had been particularly sexy today walking around in a skimpy white bikini. It’d been a feast for the eyes. Paired with the way he was sure she was touching him more, hanging around him more and this was well overdue.

To be fair, all she had to do was breath and it was too much for him.

He’ll be honest, he wasn’t sure how he held it together, but all he knew was he didn’t have to now as he undid his belt, zipper and shimmied his trousers down to his ankles. There was already a wet spot on the front of his underwear.

The first touch was bliss and he had to hold himself back from going too fast, already too desperate but unwilling for it to be over that quickly. The second touch and he was picturing Nami from today, in the white skimpy bikini and what laid beneath it. He already knew what did, the image haunted him in the best way possible. Perky, creamy breasts with dusty pink nipples that was wanted to bury his head in between and worship like they deserved to be.

That train of thought led to an outfit that made her breasts look phenomenal, whilst also putting them at risk of spilling out at any moment. But it wasn’t just her breasts though; it was her whole body. The present from the people of Zou, who he never got a chance to thank for blessing him with that view. The purple dress.

He wasn’t even sure if she had the purple dress anymore, but a man could dream, and he certainly did. The way it’d hung on her, draped over all her curves, and teased him from the low cut that showed off her breasts so well to the high cut that displayed long creamy legs and revealed that she definitely wasn’t wearing underwear underneath. It was a heart stopping dress, one that made him want to do naughty things with her. More than normal.

He couldn’t remember how many times he’d done this with the image of her in that dress. Countless times, to the point that he was wondering if it was a kink at that this stage. He knew if she ever wore it again, he’d cream his pants there and then.

Using slow, steady stokes had been abandoned the moment he thought about that purple dress, and he had to bite back the gasp when his hand circled the head of his cock, pre cum already oozing out.

And as his hand pumped down to the base, squeezing slightly as he got lost in his daydream, with the thought of just Nami melting away into him and Nami fooling around in the cramped pantry instead.

He’d be in the same spot, but instead she’d be gathered on his lap, straddling him, and so close that he wouldn’t be able to see anything other than her. He’d kiss down the soft skin of her neck as he uttered sweet nothings into her skin, drinking in her gasps.

She’d roll her hips into his and all her bashfulness would disappear at the stiffness in his trousers, instead replaced by a seductive look that promised naughty things. It made him feel heady.

He imagined the way her lithe hands would feel over his cock, the silk of her hands contrasting against the callouses she’d have acquired over the years, the press of her breasts against his chest but mostly, the steamy lidded look she’d give him. He’d seen it time and time again whenever she wanted something, but this would be genuine, filled with desire for him and only him. She’d pant his name in a breath and it would play over his face teasingly.

His hands would be free to roam, along supple thighs to her rounded behind. She’d gasp when he gave it an appreciative caress, but it would be nothing compared to when he got his hands on her breasts. He’d tease her nipples, bringing them to a point, and then roll them between his thumb and finger. Her hand would stutter over his cock, but that’d be fine because the sound of her breathy gasp of his name would be more than enough.

Sanji threw his head back, thumping against the wall of the pantry, gasping and the room was filled with the wet sound of his hand moving over his cock. His hand glided with how much pre-cum there was, almost no friction, and he imagined that’d be her wetness instead, all over his hands from working her up and then his cock as he slid into her.

He’d have her on her back, so he could watch her breasts bounce as he thrusted into her again and again. But it would be nothing compared to her face, the flush across her cheeks, the tears building in the corner of her eyes at the pleasure he brought her and the way she’d be tumbling over her words, between moaning and calling out for him. The way she’d tell him how good he made her feel.

There was no rhythm anymore, his hand moving frantically over his cock as his thoughts turned filthier by the second, his other hand going to cup his balls, rolling them as pleasure shot through his back and a heaviness settled in his stomach. He wouldn’t last much longer; he could feel himself winding tighter and tighter, ready to snap at any moment.

It certainly didn’t help when he then thought about her sitting on his face, a thought always saved towards the end because there was nothing that turned him on more than the thought of tasting her or bringing her the utmost pleasure. His view would be partially blocked but he’d be smothered in all her glory, thighs cushioned either side of his head as he gave her a front row seat to a toe-curling orgasm. She could roll her hips however she wanted as his hands on her behind encouraged her to find the best angle and he’d be buried in her-

“Nami-san!” He called out, unable to hold it in any longer, his hand moving furiously, and this was it.

And it almost was it, until he heard footsteps from the kitchen.

“Sanji-kun?” His heart stopped. The voice he’d been imagining just moments ago, but much breathier, more desperate than this real-life version calling out to him.  

No. No. No.

The door to the pantry cracked open. “What are you do-” Her voice trailed off as she took in the dishevelled state of Sanji.

It was like a nightmare. To his utmost horror, there was the object of his affections, the lead star in his dirtiest daydreams, stood at the door looking back at him. She wouldn’t be able to see everything from that angle, but she’d be able to piece it together and he watched it happen in slow motion.

As she took in his state, from the flushed cheeks to his rumpled clothing, her confusion melted into understanding. Her eyes widened, face flushing in embarrassment and mouth agape from the shock. It was a far cry from the lusty one he’d been imagining just moments ago.

And all he could do was gape at her in disbelief. Hands still down his pants and his dick had never been more confused; unsure whether to deflate from pure embarrassment or stay standing strong because the very reason for his arousal was right in front of him. In a skimpy top that didn’t help his dilemma either.

It was abundantly clear what he was doing in the middle of the night, and there was no way she didn’t not hear him just call out for her. So, there they were, both distinctly aware that he had been masturbating and to the to the thought of her no less. Great.

She seemed to come alive then, the shock subsiding. “Oh, oh! I should’ve- you’re-” her scattered speech and hand gesture in his direction was mortifying. That she was referencing it, he wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole.  

He’d never seen her so flustered.

“Nami-” he strained out, trailing off because he hadn’t figured out how that sentence was going to end before he’d started speaking. But he had to say something. Do something.  

“No, no!” She said, voice sounding panicked, and her eyes were now intent on looking around the room, at everything other than him, which was concerning but a relief at the same time. “It’s my fault… I shouldn’t have barged in. I… should’ve knocked?”

Oh god.

There was a long silence, and he was still tongue tied. At this point he had no idea how he was still looking at her.

“I’m just-” she pointed into the kitchen, now looking down at the box of coffee opposite her. “I’ll see you in the morning,” she squeaked and then she was gone. He heard her hurried footsteps across the kitchen floor, door flinging open and closing with a loud slam.

Then there was only silence. He was alone again.

His hand still on his dick, which was now half hard from the mixed signals but holding on like a trooper. He was nowhere near as turned on as he had been before and now that she knew, he couldn’t do it, couldn’t possibly finish now without feeling anything other than shame.

What had he done?

The next morning at breakfast, neither could look at the other.

-----------------------------

Welp. What do I even say? This idea just wouldn’t leave me alone and it was so easy to write! Which probably doesn’t help my case here.

Just to add whilst I drown in my sins, my friend Ray started a SaNami discord group. It’s a chill place to chat and share your love for this pairing. If you’d like to join, message me on here or twitter and I’ll send you the link. Please feel free to join, the more the merrier!

Please excuse any errors.

Thanks for reading (this filth).

[rune-writes]

Of Love and Long-Lasting Connections

Fandom: Persona 4

Word Count: 2982

Rating: G

Summary: Yu's leaving in a few weeks, and Rise wishes she could tell him her feelings.

Note: Another piece I wrote for @thezinearcana that also focuses on love confessions and flower languages

Read on AO3.

~*~*~*~*~

“These are so pretty!” Rise squealed.

It was the weekend and Rise was in Okina City when she spotted a cute little florist on the side of the street. A variety of colorful plants in pots, vases, and boxes stood on display—the pinks and reds and yellows, purples and blues and greens all giving off sweet scents.

Rise crouched down in front of them. Should she bring some back for her grandmother? It’d be nice to liven up the place. Though, maybe not at the tofu shop. The house? She could decorate the living room, or maybe the veranda. She could place them in her room if her grandmother didn’t want them in the house.

As her eyes scanned the various flowers on display, Rise found a cluster of blue ones by her feet. Potted plants, ready to take home. She absently reached over and stroked the small petals.

“Do you like them?” a voice came from above her. A man stood there, just a little to the side, wearing the amicable smile of a salesperson. She noticed the name of the shop on his apron. “Forget-me-nots,” he went on. “A flower of remembrance, they say. Of long-lasting connections.”

Rise smiled, wistful. She knew, though there was one other meaning that made her romantic self long to give them to that boy a year older than her—true love. Maybe he would finally realize her feelings for him.

“Would you like to get them, miss?”

Rise shook her head, rising from her crouch and dusting off her clothes. Turning to the shopkeeper with a bright smile of her own, she said, “I’m looking for something that’ll brighten up a room.”

***

A small bouquet of sunflowers now nestled between her hands as she made her way to the station, their long yellow petals bright under the light of the setting sun. Here, the florist had said. They’ll brighten your day. Had it been that obvious that she was feeling melancholic? She looked down to find the flowers staring back, as though trying to give her an answer. Her lips parted into a smile.

Maybe they really did have magic.

Rise brought the flowers to her face and inhaled the sweet scent. Her grandmother would love these.

“Rise?”

Rise looked up and saw a certain upperclassman with steel gray hair not six steps in front of her. “Y—Yu-senpai?!” Rise couldn’t keep the squeak out of her voice.

Yu smiled at her and she felt more heat creeping up her face.

“Are you here alone?” he asked.

Rise nodded. She waved her sunflower bouquet in front of him. “Bought some flowers for grandma,” she said, and then she looked at him, half-expecting to find the other boys coming up from behind, yelling at him to wait, but there was no one else. Yu was alone.

“What about you, Senpai?” she asked. “What are you doing here?”

A slight pause and a distinct scratch to the back of his neck before he said, “Just some things.” Yu averted his eyes, suddenly finding an interesting spot at a nearby store awning.

Rise blinked, feeling her grin widening at his obvious fluster. “Are you hiding something, Senpai?” she asked. Closing the distance between them, she peered up at his face.

Yu’s dark gray eyes captured her. She noticed the widening of his pupils and realized how close they were. She could almost see her reflections in them, grinning mischievously. And maybe she was being mischievous, probing him with questions she knew would get her farther away from hearing what she wanted. That no, he wasn’t on a date, that she was being ridiculous for even thinking so, that she didn’t have anything to worry about because he had always known how she felt and had always felt the same way. He would never forget about her.

Yu didn’t back away, and neither did she. She could almost feel his breath, smell the scent of pine trees on his clothes. A clearing of his throat brought her back to the present and Rise blinked, leaning back on her heels.

“Are you going home?” he asked. She nodded and he smiled. “Wanna go home together?”

She had thought he would only accompany her throughout the train ride to Inaba, but Yu insisted on walking her all the way to her, even after she told him he didn’t have to. It was a wonder how Rise managed to keep her emotion in check throughout their long walk—her face kept threatening to smile. So she talked about anything and everything to distract herself while he listened. But what started as a light conversation about their days gradually moved closer to the topic of their school, and when they talked about school, it naturally led to talks about their friends, and finally to his transfer.

Rise went quiet. Yu would leave once the semester ended. They only had a couple more weeks.

Just tell him how you feel, Chie had told her.

Easier said than done. How many times had she told him how she felt over the course of the year? How many times had she teased him, hinted that what she felt was real? Yu had never taken them seriously. What difference would it make now?

“Here we are.” His soft voice drew her out of her thoughts and the dark storefront of the Marukyu Tofu Shop stood before her.

“Well,” Yu half-turned, giving her one of those easy smiles, “Bye—”

“Senpai!”

Her voice was too loud, echoing off the pavement in the darkness, surprising even herself. When she looked, Yu was staring at her, eyes wide in surprise.

Be genuine, Yukiko had said.

Rise opened her mouth—

—only for the words to fail her.

Yu tilted his head to the side. “What is it?”

Night had fallen. The dim lights of the streetlamps lit his face in a way that made him seem to glow. The soft bangs falling over his forehead. His strong, high cheekbones. He was too beautiful to her, too precious. She didn’t want him to leave.

Her cheeks strained in what she hoped was her best smile. “Be safe on your way home, Senpai.”

He stared at her, brow creasing for a fraction of a second, but he didn’t pry, and after a while, he said, “It was nice seeing you again, Rise.” Rise blinked. He smiled a wistful smile and she realized this was the first time they had seen each other in a while. A lump formed at the back of her throat.

Yu lingered before he bid her goodbye, just a moment too long, like how her fans wouldn’t leave before she left. But Yu wasn’t like any of her fans, and these little gestures were the things that made her hope for the what-ifs and maybes.

***

Rise watched until Yu’s back was engulfed by the night before she trudged inside her home. Her grandmother came out of the kitchen by the time she had reached the living room, placing her sunflowers in a glass vase and filling it with water. When her grandmother saw it, she beamed. “That’s lovely, Rise.”

Rise smiled, placing the vase on a table at the corner, between the window and TV. “You don’t mind me placing it here?”

“No, not at all.” A shuffle of feet and a moment later, her grandmother joined her by her side. Silence fell as Rise watched her gently caress the soft yellow petals. But then her grandmother asked, “Narukami-kun, was it?” and Rise’s heart, which had begun to find its peace again, jumped at the name. “I heard he’s leaving soon. Is it true?”

She froze.

Thoughts of his transfer had plagued her for weeks. Everyone was sad knowing he would leave, but every time Rise saw Yu walk down the school corridor or waved at her from across the street, she couldn’t stop her heart from constricting in pain and after a while, she found it easier to just avoid him. It had gotten so bad that her usually cheerful self turned pensive every time she joined the others for Yu’s farewell party preparation.

A soft touch to her hand—her grandmother smiled at her, soft and gentle, as if she knew, despite never saying anything.

“It’ll be all right,” her grandmother murmured.

Rise heard the crack before she felt it—a painful gash deep within her heart—and tears sprang to her eyes. She desperately tried to blink them away. She would not cry. She’d told herself not to cry. But her hands began to shake and the effort to keep her emotions repressed seemed insurmountable.

Her grandmother drew her into her arms, strong and warm. A single sob escaped her lips, shaking her to her core, and any resolve Rise had to stay strong fell apart.

There, there, her grandmother whispered. It’ll be all right. She patted her shoulder and whispered soothing words to her ear, while Rise clutched at her back, the tears she had been holding back for weeks streaming down her cheeks one by one.

***

It gave her a catharsis she didn’t realize she needed. Rise didn’t know how long she stayed with her head on her grandmother’s lap, long after her crying ended and she stared into space. It reminded her of the times when she was younger, when her grandmother would hum a lullaby or tell her a story, patting her shoulder to lull her to sleep.

It gave her peace, and courage.

“Don’t dwell, Rise,” her grandmother said. “Even though he’s leaving, that doesn’t mean you can’t see him again, right?”

Rise stared at her grandmother, blinking away the stray tears from her eyes. Her grandmother was right. Why had she never realized that? Of course, her heart was still heavy every time she thought of Yu leaving, but when Chie and Yukiko got everyone together to prepare for the farewell party, Rise found herself smiling more, and laughing more, that Chie even noted that she seemed happier lately.

However, even as Rise slowly found a state of acceptance, when her phone rang early on the next weekend and Yu’s name flashed across the screen, her heart leaped into her throat, caught between excitement and apprehensiveness. She picked it up before the first ring ended.

“Hello?”

“Are you home?” His voice sounded soft and slightly husky to her ear. A smile spread across her face.

“Yeah.”

“Are you free?”

She checked the clock on the wall. It was 8 AM. She promised her grandmother she would tend the store later because her grandmother wanted to visit an ailing neighbor. “I need to tend the store around ten.”

A pause. “Okay,” she heard him say. “Can you be ready in fifteen minutes?”

“What?”

He chuckled. “See you then.”

The call barely began when it ended and Rise watched as her phone screen went dark. See you then? She let the short conversation sink in.

Did he just ask her out on a date?

Rise laughed at herself, even as she pushed herself to her feet and went to her room with a little spring in her step

It wasn’t a date, she thought, opening her drawer and grabbing a change of clothes: a pair of jeans and a warm fluffy white turtleneck.

The others would probably meet them somewhere, she told herself as she pulled her hair back into its twin tails and clipped them into place.

Rise was putting on her jacket when she heard the unmistakable sound of a motor engine approaching her house. Her grandmother was calling for her by the time she reached the front door. Yu was standing there, his breath clouding over from the chill in the air, smiling at her approach.

“Are you going somewhere?” her grandmother asked as Rise kissed her on the cheeks in goodbye.

“I’ll be back before ten,” was all she said before waving her hand and following Yu out the door. She thought they were only going to someplace near, but Yu’s scooter waited outside and Rise had to think otherwise.

“Where are we going exactly?” she asked, catching the spare helmet Yu tossed to her.

Yu’s reply was only a grin. “You’ll see.”

***

Wind whipped at her as Yu sped his scooter up the path to the mountains. Past the hilltop overlooking the town and farther still, until the smooth asphalt turned to gravel and dirt, and the trees turned to pine. Inaba was a small quiet town, where everyone knew everyone else, and you rarely heard any cars zooming past. But there was an underlying bustle different from the city that Rise only realized as Yu brought her deeper into the mountain. This was a sort of quiet she hadn’t experienced before, not when her life in Tokyo had consisted of her, her agency, and her fans.

Rise had her arms wrapped around his waist since he told her to hang tight when he started the engine, and being like this, this close, in a world where there was only him and her and the soaring trees and distant birds, Rise didn’t want this to end. She lay her head against his warm back and breathed his scent. Pine trees and winter. Rise surreptitiously tightened her arms around him. She wished he wouldn’t leave.

They reached their destination a little after they entered the mountains. At a split on the road, Yu took the path that veered off the main, leading them to a narrow and unstable one between trees and he had to slow down. The trees slowly gave away, until finally she finally saw a break up ahead.

“Where are we?” Rise asked, getting off his scooter and taking her helmet off.

Yu answered with a smile and an offering of his hand. It was such an offhanded gesture, so natural he didn’t seem to have put much thought behind it. Yet her heart still soared, even as she told herself not to think too much of it. She took his hand, hiding a smile threatening to break free, and let him lead her past the break in the trees.

Sunlight blinded her for the first couple moments, her hand reaching up to cover her eyes. The wind felt stronger here, the air chillier. A shiver ran down her spine. Rise regretted she hadn’t brought a scarf or worn a warmer jacket.

Yu let out a quiet breath. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

She adjusted her eyes to the light as she slowly brought her hand down. The sun hung low from a clear, cloudless sky. She could feel its heat slowly seeping into her bones. There were no trees or buildings anywhere in sight, just the open sky and a vast rolling hill, stretching as far as her eyes could see.

Rise blinked in astonishment. Small flowers, ones she had seen in the pots at the florist ready to take home, dotted the pale green field in clusters of azure blue. She let out a quiet gasp.

“The jeweler told me about this,” Yu went on. “A flower field in the Inaba mountains, where the flowers would often bloom a little early.” He chuckled under his breath. “He’s right.”

“It’s beautiful,” she said. She felt a gentle squeeze on her hand and she looked down, only realizing that their hands were still linked. Rise giggled to herself. “This feels like a date.”

“This is a date,” Yu replied with a chuckle.

Rise went still. She looked up from their hands and found Yu’s gray eyes already gazing at her with that softness that made her heart skip a beat.

“Here.” He rummaged in his jacket pocket and withdrew a small blue box. “I bought this for you.”

Rise blinked in surprise. She accepted the gift with trembling hands, her heart throbbing in her chest. Part of her waited for the gag, for Yosuke or Teddie or anyone to appear from behind the trees and shout surprise! But no one came, and it was just her and him and the field of blue flowers.

“Open it.”

She did. Inside was a necklace—a small blue flower linked to a silver chain. Tears burned at the back of her eyes and she tried so hard to stop it. She wanted him to see her smile, because she was happy and her heart was full and he gave her a gift she had never expected to receive.

The first tear rolled down her cheek, and Yu’s hand was already there to wipe it away.

“I wanted to buy you a bouquet.” Her voice came out as a whisper and she struggled to keep it steady. “That day I bought flowers for my grandma, I wanted to buy you a forget-me-not bouquet. I wanted to tell you I love you, and ask you not to forget me even after you leave.”

Yu slowly took her hand in his and squeezed. “That day we met in Okina City? I was coming back from the jeweler when you suddenly appeared in front of me,” he said with a soft chuckle under his breath. “I was out of my mind with worry. I wanted to surprise you.” Rise choked back on a sob, caught between a laugh and a cry. She met his gaze and saw a fondness in his smile she would not forget. “Sorry it took me so long to give you a proper reply.”

Rise blinked away the tears blurring her eyes and laughed like she had never laughed before. She threw her arms around him on instinct and smiled to his chest. “Do you know what the flowers mean, Senpai?”

His arms went around her, drawing her close, enveloping her in a warmth that drove away the coldness of the morning air. “Of course,” he murmured with a soft touch of his lips against her hair that only made her smile grow. “I love you, Rise.”

~ END ~

[whatudottu]

Because I've held this off for too long, once again it seems that @nukeli has beaten me to the punch with colour schemes. Damn my procrastination or whatever, but I only just realised that I didn't put any mention of the 'fodder' classes (Vehicons, Insecticons and I suppose Autotroopers since I'm including them) and wanted to put down my thoughts before writing this up.

An added bonus here is that certain character have different alts (based on character changes and even the heavier focus of 'robots in disguise' that these Decepticons are after) so it's not just me ranting about colour schemes.

Yes, this was why I was complaining about the wiki altmodes, so deal with the vehicles I found instead. May or may not be due to me using images as references haha.

The Autobots (you are here)

The Decepticons Part 1

The Decepticons Part 2

Going in order of my notes, we begin with Cliffjumper. He’s obviously a 1970 Dodge Challenger and what colours I’ve given him are on the image below. Nothing much to say about a definitely dead character other than I didn’t just wanna make him blue.

Next on the list is good old Doctor Ratchet. I’ve had it in my mind ever since Nuke’s one post that SG!Ratchet was like Medic from TF2, so I guess I took it and ran.

To play an opposite to regular Ratchet, he comes across as affable and friendly but is really just doing the things he loves to people he hates. Autobots, Decepticons, hates everyone. He despises Optimus Prime too, but he can’t do anything unless he wants to be cooped up in his berthroom reattaching his limbs for it. Believe him, he tried.

As for altmode and colours, I spent way too long finding that he resembles a Mercedes Benz G-Class ambulance that I was ticked to find out he wasn’t at all. I special looked for the green coloured ambulance because Synth-En, duh!

Breaking in after the Doctor comes our local wrecker Bulkhead. I don’t have much of a read on this guy, other than the fact that I thought it’d be a cool idea for him to lose a lot of his memories after ‘TMI’, ya know, from the Synth-En recipe? Certainly not set in stone, but it could very well contribute to my accidental theme of memory (which only has some small links in the posts I actually created).

With the help of my car enthused cousin I have given our not so loveable mech a Terradyne Gurkha, a little more military than the wiki’s off-roader Lamborghini that I’m too annoyed to bother to look at. I thought that the military origins and the black colour scheme sorta allude to something something mindless military man. yada yada.

Following him is our ever wonderful Optimus Prime, or maybe Lord Prime? Haven’t thought too much about that. What I have thought of is this master manipulator who mayhaps also be a little bit delusional idk we’ll decide in the car.

I always loved the idea of a smiling SG!Prime, as if there’s still hints of this benevolent leader that the original has, but it’s warped and meant to add fodder to the war, encouraging mechs to fight to their deaths all in the name of not only the Autobots, but their Prime. Also as a warped version of the original, I wanted Shattered Glass Optimus to be deluded in the fact that Megatron will change, change at least, to submit to the real leader. Ain’t happening. That’s sorta there with Ratchet too, but well, you read Ratchet’s piece didn’t you?

SG!Prime is consistently purple and black, and whilst I have found a Peterbilt Semi Truck with that wonderful colour, it comes with white instead. Think about it, this typically evil colour paired with often innocent white, that’s like perfect for what I’m going for.

Fitting that he’s next, it’s time for Prime’s Second In Command Ultra Magnus. I’ve... really got nothing for him. Maybe he’s still by-the-books but like he finds loopholes just to commit atrocities? I don’t know.

I’ve given this boy a Mack Trident alt instead of Prime’s Peterbilt, just for differences sake.

After Magnus, we got our little bug Bumblebee... or is it. Because I wanted to change his colours a bit without going into Beast Hunter territory, I wondered if bees come in different colours and, low and behold, they do!

As for the boy himself, I think he was one of the bots manipulated by Prime himself to join the cause and, given his almost rewritten personality, has only lived through to this point in the war by sheer luck. This mech is an absolute menace, feral and powered by the need for Prime’s approval, tearing others with denta and servo more often than with stingers and blasters.

Now you’ve noticed I haven’t been using his name? That’s because he’s now Blue Band (I just realised he’s still bb haha)! He gets his name from the Blue Banded bee, and I found a Chevrolet Camaro to match.

In line with BB’s younger status, feast your eyes on Shattered Glass Smokescreen! Oh boy isn’t he a delight. His hero worship has essentially turned him to a prime (pardon the pun) candidate for Optimus to form into his perfect super soldier, who already would die for this deranged mech even before laying optics on this grand Prime.

So, he’s an absolute suck up, a straight up spoiled brat that has it harder than Blue Band for Prime’s acknowledgement, and is actively showing off and bragging that he’s Optimus’ favourite (he’s not, he just encourages it because that’s the easiest way to get Smokey to do what he wants).

Almost to reflect that (perhaps another pun) I found this gaudy Chameleon Chevy Corvette that absolutely SCREAMS show off.

Regrettably partnered up with him after the passing of Cliffjumper, Arcee has run out of patience. Not everything she does is motivated by Airachnid (what kind of character would that be? not a fun one) but she does often enjoy killing those connected with her. After Tailgate, she’s gotten a little mad, but her effectiveness otherwise increased so others never bothered to ‘fix’ her.

Having lost both of her partners, when she absolutely hates another (read; Airachnid and Starscream because he still kills Cliff) the best kind of revenge is putting her opponents in her own pedes. Oh, that mech’s growing attached to one of his comrades? Slice and dice them before their optics. Oh, that femme is finally coming out of her shell and making friends? Gore out their spark and hope that humans don’t decide this would be the perfect time to practice what they preach and save the life of that same mech with a hard to perform surgery that may or may not have been lost to time.

Okay so she’s obviously a Kawasaki Ninja (haha that’s kind of fitting) and I was tempted to make her pink like other Arcee iterations, but look at this fancy stuff right here. He hoo glowy look pretty!

Almost in leu of an Airachnid archetype, Wheeljack comes in. Though still quite the wrecker and ever the bomb enthusiast, instead of actively celebrating his impacts and going solo to stop the rust settling in, he’d rather be offed whilst mechs are distracted by his pretty explosion and lay forgotten in the dirt.

I may have accidentally rooted the unintentional memory theme deeply with the wreckers (Breakdown included) and maybe just took it and ran, giving everyone else a little connection, but Wheeljack is probably the most explicit in this idea. He hates nicknames (which i super Ratchet uses to mock him here in Shattered Glass) because that’s like... naming something you’re going to keep to quote that specific fic which, honestly, I can’t remember. Wheeljack split from others to stop them from remembering him and put himself closer to a situation where he can die alone, as morbid as that sounds. No grand death, no stupid death and no straight up suicide (generally that’s a VERY impactful kind of death) so just a mediocre end is what he’s been looking for for a little bit too long.

As for his colours, I apparently have no taste and should not have a car because I really like what this image has going for it. This C3 Corvette is probably one of the few cars that fits the straight up box of a sports car that Jackie’s got, so I’m sticking to it, so no, don’t show me the wiki I’m ignoring it this was too painful to give up dang it!

Okay, finishing off the bots, I have the Autotroopers. Sure, I’m not using a reference of a car to show off the colours, mainly because there’s also going to be flier troopers too, maybe... surely... definitely. Most depictions of them are white, you know, goodie goodie, and I’m tempted to just laze around and do just that. Instead, I think a goldish colour would be fun.

Aside from sharing a key colour with Ultra Magnus, essentially a war lawyer, which is perfect for subjects made to obey, a nice glimmering finish almost feels like they’re all manipulated by Prime to believe in the Autobot cause. I suppose the special devision, if there is one, would be a nice Prime purple, sorta like if it’s Optimus’ personal guard if he actually had any belief they would do their jobs.

Oh boy this is so long...

[the-inc-den]

I Think This Could Be the Start of a New Life (The Inc Den)

A/N: Oh hi 👋🏻. Here’s the first piece I guess. Figured I’d get everyone introduced. I hope you enjoy them because I love everyone dearly. so yeah.

Warnings: None? swearing I guess, but this is SFW

Summary: River would really like to stop being sexiled from their apartment.

Word Count: 4.5K

River was lounging on the couch in the main space of their apartment waiting for their roommate Lacey to come out of the bathroom. Literally lounging as one foot was propped up on the couch while the other stayed on the floor, careful to keep their still shoe wearing foot off the couch lest Nox or Lacey throw a fit. They were scrolling through their phone and half answering texts from their work group chat, Al and Roger debating pop music influences with commentary chimed in from time to time. They tapped their foot to some mental tune they were playing to keep themselves occupied, probably something that was on Drake’s playlist that they’d heard at work. River had to wonder if Nox was in the room and waiting for them to leave before coming out, but they were probably still curled up under Lacey’s bed. River threw their head back and let out a groan as they looked at the clock on their phone, Lacey’d been getting ready for nearly an hour.

“Lace, c’mon, do you want to get to Labyrinth before last call or not?” They called. They hardly remembered why they had agreed to accompany Lacey on her night out, she was just going to meet up with Scott and then sexile River from the apartment. Then River would have to call up Drake or Roger or Al and crash on their couch and they weren’t super keen on doing that tonight, their hips still hurt from the last time they’d had to. Lacey exited the bathroom with her red hair curled and her makeup done to perfection which was really impressive, River just wished it didn’t take an hour to do.

“Please tell me you’re not going out like that?” Lacey pleaded. River looked over their outfit: ripped jeans, Converse that had seen better days if the faded canvas and scuffed bottoms were any indication, and their “River’s Fight School” t-shirt that Lacey had made them after the “worst breakup she’d ever experienced” that had ended with River threatening to kick the ex’s ass. The outfit had been what they’d worn on shift and it’d been fine, mostly because unlike Roger, they never dressed to impress at the shop.

“I am, because may I remind you I’m not keen on impressing anyone. Besides, I wanna sleep comfortably on whatever couch I have to end up crashing on.” River replied with only a dash of bitterness sneaking into their tone. Lacey rolled her eyes and slid her boots on.

“Fine, fine, c’mon,” Lacey said. River stood up and grabbed their jacket off the couch arm.

“Nox, don’t tear the apartment apart!” River shouted into the apartment as they closed the door. Their typical parting words to the shadow monster who lived under Lacey’s bed.

The duo walked to Labyrinth with little fuss, minus Lacey occasionally twirling her hair around her finger. After six years of friendship, River knew that she was nervous about something.

“Are you and Scott okay?” They asked.

“What? Oh! Yeah, totally, work’s just been a pain and I’m… wait what —“

“You’re twirling your hair,” River said, miming the gesture by twisting their bangs out of their face. Lacey looked over at her finger and immediately dropped her hand.

“Damn you Rio,”

“You love me,” they were quick to interject with a smile. Lacey chuckled as they approached the bar. Frankie was standing outside and Lacey smiled up at the rakassha as she entered and River gave a mock salute. “Evenin’ Frankie,” they said and received a nod in response. River walked in and was almost smacked by the noise. Boys Don’t Cry was playing over the speakers as the bar and surrounding tables were crowded. As to be expected on a Friday night.

“Lacey Loo!” A male voice yelled from one of the side tables. Lacey grinned as she turned to greet the voice. Decked in a red plaid shirt and good jeans was Scott, the himbo werewolf boyfriend. He was a good guy, he and River got along when they hung out together, they were just… loud when it came to nightly extracurriculars, and that was before getting into the whole “is a werewolf” thing. River nodded that they were taking their leave as Lacey went over to Scott and they found themselves going to the bar. They waited for the bartender to finish dealing with some newbies as they took their seat in their usual stool. It was a miracle that as busy as the bar was, they managed to snag it. If River didn’t know any better, they might’ve thought that Chrissa was saving it for them. They watched the orc bartender work, she eventually turned around and seemed relieved to see River.

“Finally, someone easy,” she said with a sigh. River chuckled and smiled.

“Hey Chrissa, my usual?” They asked.

“One mildly large glass of Coca Cola, coming up.” She said as she pulled a glass and the soda gun. Chrissa filled it and slid it to River with a smile, garnished with its usual orange umbrella, a mental note to whoever came on shift after Chrissa or simply any passing waiter that River wasn’t drinking. They snuck a glance around the bar, trying to spot if there was anyone they knew hanging around. Other than Scott and Lacey cozied up in the corner, the answer seemed to be a resounding no, not that it wasn’t expected. River sighed and went back to focusing on Chrissa doing her work. They’d always had a fascination with watching the bartender work, it was always interesting, trying to follow Chrissa’s hands move and grab the bottles without thinking too hard about what they were, measuring the liquor with ease that only came from repeated movements and months of training before her first shift. Laurence had hired her after he got tired of working the bar himself, roughly around the same time River and Lacey had started frequenting the place when they first moved to the city.

Chrissa dealt with some customers at the other end of the bar before coming back in front of River.

“How was work by the way?” She asked. River shrugged in response.

“Wasn’t too bad, mostly just stayed in the basement with Drake.” They said, the record shop they worked at had a light dampened basement for those who didn’t do well with sunlight, which included their vampire coworker. River just liked it because it was usually a lot quieter than working the upstairs front counter. Even if Al sometimes sent the most ridiculous requests down to them.

“No wonder you’re so fucking pale,” Chrissa joked as she cleaned glasses. River just rolled their eyes.

“Hey, I’m pale because of a lot of reasons. The basement and Nox are just two of the reasons.” They remarked.

“How is Nox by the way?”

“Good, he’s mostly keeping to himself, deep cleaned the apartment the other day and I didn’t even know he could do that.”  River remarked with a chuckle. Nox didn’t pay rent, but he usually made up for it by keeping the apartment clean when Lacey and them couldn’t. “I think he wrote something about wanting to try manifesting fully again while we were there, but we haven’t been in the apartment at the same time long enough.”

“Scott?” Chrissa asked. River groaned and nodded.

“I swear, it’d be easier if they just moved in together so I could start looking for other roommates, but they’re “still taking it slow”.” River remarked.

“Heads up, someone headed your way,” Chrissa said, her tone of voice taking on a dash of an edge. River furrowed their brow until they turned and saw a purple skinned woman stride toward them with a glint in their eyes that River had a sneaking suspicion they should fear.

“Do you?” River asked with a slight head tilt of confusion

“Yeah, if it were anyone else, I’d say run.”

“But it’s me so…”

“Oh I’m so looking forward to what comes next.” Chirssa said with a laugh as they moved down the bar a bit. The woman who finished coming over made a show of coming next to River without getting into their personal space. River watched them out of the corner of their eye, waiting to see what the play was.

“What’re you drinking sweetie?” The woman asked. She had wavy purple and pink hair with white ox horns that curved just below her chin.

“Just soda, I’m a DD tonight,” River lied. Not about the soda, but about being the DD. Really, they were waiting for the text that said they were out of an apartment tonight, but DD seemed like the safer excuse.

“Ah, the responsible friend, those are always nice to have, I’ve never had the luck,” the woman said with a smile. Her voice sounded like honey and it was pleasant to listen to. But between Chrissa’s warnings and this woman seeming to lay on thick whatever it was they were trying, River let a chuckle escape them. “What?” she asked with a slight tilt of her head.

“You’ve struck out Misae,” Chrissa said, coming back over with a martini glass with pink liquid in it. “You managed to pick the one ace human in the whole establishment.”

“I doubt that,” River remarked, the venn diagram of “ace being” and “human” in this establishment was a thin middle ground, but not one person thin. At least, as far as River knew. Misae however chuckled and smiled.

“Then I’m terribly sorry about all of that,”

“Ah don’t worry about it, you’re still pretty and I like getting hit on by pretty women even if they are trying to mildly charm me.” River said with a grin. “I’m River,” they said, offering their hand.

“Misae as Chirssa mentioned, charmed to meet you River,” She said, shaking hands with a gentle grace. When they released each other's hands, Misae furrowed her brow. “Nothing?” She asked which got another laugh out of River. “Not a thing,” they said.

“Wow…” Misae said with a sigh as she took a sip of her drink. River thought she’d leave and go find another target before a grin came onto her lips. “Would you mind coming and pranking my friends? I’ve got one who needs to be taken down a peg and I think you’ll be my secret weapon.” She asked. River looked over at Chrissa who gave a short nod.

“If it’s who I think it is, they’ll knock him down several pegs.” She said, River turned back to Misae who was still grinning, more conspiratorial than sensual, they snuck a quick glance to where Lacey and Scott were still curled up together before facing Misae again.

“Yeah why not,” they said as they popped off their barstool. Misae giggled and offered her hand, a hand that River took, as she dragged them to a booth tucked into the back of the bar, it was an eight person booth currently filled with three similar looking individuals, in so much as they weren’t human and definitely had demonic lineage. River did their best to not make assumptions, but judging on what Misae had brought them over to achieve, the members of the table were all various forms of incubi. Concubi? Was that the technical term? One on the edge of the seating arrangement was a light blue man with his horns curving up from his forehead and a darker blue coloring on his cheek that River had a hard time telling if it was a blush or makeup.

“Mis, who’s this?” He asked, his voice slightly higher than expected and a curious look on his face.

“This is River, River this is Azzy,” the light blue one who smiled slightly and River was pretty convinced that this was the closest they were going to experience an embarrassed incubus. “Kori,” a maroon inc who seemed to be the eldest of the group as he simply smiled at their appearance. He had long hair tied up in a bun and River felt a little bit more at ease seeing him. “And Joliet,” another maroon skinned being who was grinning, he also had tied up black hair, though he wore jewelry on his horns. “Where’s Rose?” Misae asked as she gestured for River to sit next to Joliet. She sat down next to Azzy across the table and River tried not to feel like they’d been suddenly thrown off the deep end.

“Bathroom.” Azzy said.

“Biblically speaking,” Joliet quickly added. River chuckled a little at the need for clarification. Something told them that for him it was actually necessary. They also suspected he was probably their target.

“Ah, well, that’s chill.”

“Mis what are you planning?” Kori asked with a slight glare directed at his friend. Ah, he was the dad friend.

“Oh nothing, just a lil bit of karmic justice,” Misae said with a grin that was anything but innocent. Joliet leaned over to River and whispered in their ear.

“Blink twice and I’ll get you out of here,” he said with a smirk. River stared at him with a smirk of their own and Joliet broke into a laugh. “Oh they’re good,”

“Seriously Mis, what’s going on?” Kori asked.

“It’s payback for Rose stealing my mark last week.” Misae said.

“And how is this gonna be payback?” Kori asked. “You just put a perfectly beautiful human in front of him, if anything all this is going to do is insure none of us sleep tonight,” he said.

“Oh you’ll see,” Misae said, throwing a wink River’s way. River tried to not blush at being called beautiful and simply kept their game face on.

“What’ll Kor see?” A navy blue inc asked. He wore a grey t-shirt and dark black jeans and River saw the issue. Between golden eyes and a charisma that dripped off of him, even as unaffected as River was, he knew who and what he was and was well aware that manipulating people was second nature. He’d been looking over at Kori before scanning the table and landing on River. “Oh… oh hello,” he said. His voice was warmer than Misae’s was, more a whiskey than a true honey, but it didn’t hit River the way they imagined he intended. “If you’d scootch in sugar,” he said. To play along, River did so, pressing a little closer to Joliet in the process. River snuck a glance at the others who all looked a little nervous, even Misae, but River softly shook their head, hiding it by pushing their bangs off their forehead a bit. “Now, hello. I’m Rosair, you can call me Rose,” he said as he offered his hand to shake. River took it with a smirk of their own.

“Nice to meet you Rose, River,” they said. Rosair took their hand and kissed the back of it and River chuckled. “You do this to all the pretty people who cross your path?” They asked.

“Yes,”

“Then I can see why Misae and Chrissa put me up to this,” they said with a chuckle. Rosair furrowed his brow to which River only grinned. “I’m ace Rose, you’re just pretty.” Rosair looked over at Misae who was grinning.

“Payback’s a bitch Rosie,” she said.

“Ah no matter, you’re still here.” he said with a small smirk that seemed to indicate he wasn’t done yet.

“Sure,” River said as they tapped his shoulder. “So, other than trying to pick up people at bars, what do you lot do?” They asked with a tilt of their head. Even Misae looked a little surprised at the question. “What? You think I’m just gonna go back to the bar and go back to sitting alone? C’mon now, you guys are not that dumb.” Joliet broke out of the stunned silence first with a laugh.

“You’ll have to forgive them, they’re very used to transactional interactions and have not quite figured out just normal interactions, I work at a tattoo parlor.” He said with a smile.

“Interesting, Kori?” River asked, glancing a little around Joliet.

“Oh uh, I work at a bakery. Mostly donuts and cake.” He said.

“I’ll definitely have to try it some time, assuming you’re any good,”

“I’m mostly the counter, but Mandy, who actually owns the place, is quite good.” Kori clarified.

“Azzy?” River asked with a raised eyebrow, watching him fight off the dark blue crawling onto his cheeks.

“I work at a thrift shop.”

“I’m a grad student,” Misae said, “mostly focusing on art and culture, and Rosair’s a mooch.”

“I think the technical term is gold digger,” Joliet commented.

“I thought it was drifter,” Kori chimed in.

“None of you are correct, I’m a freelancer.” Rosair said with a roll of his eyes.

“That’s what we said: a freeloader.” Azzy said and River had to quickly get closer to Joliet as Rosair nearly vaulted over the table to get at his friend. River laughed a little and looked over at Rosair for the first time since he sat down.

“What’s your specialty?” They asked leaning on the table and cutting off the others physically a bit, which got a gasp from Joliet.

“Graphic design,” he said.

“You any good?”

“I’ve been told so, but you’re welcome to find out,” he said with a smirk returning. River laughed a little.

“Okay, yeah, I walked into that one,” they said as the giggles subsided.

The conversation continued on like that for a while, giggles and quips and jokes at everyone’s expense. River learned that Kori, Misae, and Azzy had known each other since high school, Joliet wasn’t technically an inc but his dad had been, so his cambion status gave him a weird in when they were in college with the other three, and Rosair had needed people to help pay the rent on his, in Azzy’s words, “fucking massive” apartment which had led to their loose confederation of people. Joliet called them “the Inc Den” which only got a groan out of Kori. They were pleasant and funny, and River tried not to think about how they were the first friends they’d made outside of work in three years.

When Misae had left the table to get drinks, River felt their phone vibrate and they tried not to groan as they fished it out of their pocket.

“Careful sugar,” Rosair said. He’d tucked himself in close next to River even after the rejection and they kept their phone in the pocket next to him.

“Shut up Rose,” they muttered as they clicked it on.

From Lacey Loo: hey…. I’m sorry. Tell drake i’ll pay for his breakfast.

River tried not to slam their head on the table in response. They tried not to think about how normal it was that Lacey didn’t even have to say much for River to get the whole picture. They changed their text channels and started texting Drake.

To Drake-ula: please tell me your couch is open

From Drake-ula: sorry dude, ditto situation

To Drake-ula: a) get some, roger’ll expect a review b) fuck you fine c) please tell me it isn’t roger

From Drake-ula: you think too lowly of me, it isn’t roger. And fuck you too, see you tomorrow.

River went to change chats again when Joliet piped up, “What’s with the angry eyes Riv?” He asked.

“My roommate just sexiled me and my go-to couch did the same.” They said as they pulled up Roger’s contact.

To Roger Snake: please tell me I can crash on a pile of pillows

The lack of instantaneous reply led to River looking at the time. The fact that it was a little after midnight meant Roger wouldn't even be up, the early sleeper he was. “Fuck!” They hissed.

“Aren’t you a little old to get sexiled?” Kori asked.

“Do you want to be in the same apartment as a werewolf having sex when he’s noisy even unshifted?” River asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Fair enough,” Kori said almost immediately. River sighed and tried to think of literally anyone else who might be okay with them crashing. Derek usually didn’t want anyone in his apartment except for holiday dinners, Chasen was out of town, and Al lived with six other people and they usually had people on the couch. They felt bad for Nox, who could technically leave the apartment, didn’t like doing it so they usually just suffered in silence and berated Lacey in the mirror the following morning.

“You could stay with us sugar,” Rosair said. River looked over at him with a look of confused amusement.

“Bet you say that to all the pretty people,”

“Actually we have a “no marks in the apartment” policy,” Azzy said. “It ensures we all sleep and don’t end up in this very situation,” he added.

“Why should I?”

“Because going back to your place means a very vocal werewolf,” Rosair said.

“And we have a pull out couch.” Kori cut in quickly.

“And they think you're cute and the fact that you haven’t run for the hills after nearly two hours with us is a sign they might want to keep you around,” Joliet whispered in River’s ear. Joliet had quickly become a grounding element at the table. He seemed to translate the unspoken wants of everyone with ease of exetend exposure. River tried not to flush a little at the comment.

“Can I convince you all to swear on no funny business?” They asked cautiously.

“Absolutely, just a couch,” Kori said. River looked over at Rosair who chuckled but nodded.

“On my name, there’ll be no funny business, just a couch.” River glanced at Azzy and Misae who nodded in agreement.

“We’re with them.” Misae said. River did a quick pro-con list in their head and sighed.

“Alright, yeah, I’d love it if I could crash on your couch,” they said.  

“Then we should probably get out of here,” Kori remarked. Misae stood up and allowed him and Azzy out of the booth. Rosair did the same for River and Joliet. River quickly realized that other than Azzy and Misae, River was the shortest amongst the group, and even Azzy had his horns for a little bit of extra height. As they started walking for the door, River caught Chrissa’s eye who only slightly furrowed her brow and came a dash closer

“Rio,” she said. The group stopped and River went over to the bar, leaning over on their elbows.

“What’s up?” They asked.

“You’re fully conscious and aware you’re leaving with these people right?” Chrissa asked. River chuckled slightly and nodded.

“Yeah, Drake’s got someone over and Lacey kicked me out, they’re letting me crash on their couch,” River said. They appreciated the check, really, it was out of character for River to leave Labyrinth with anyone other than Lacey, Drake, or even Roger if they managed to catch him early enough.

“Alright, text me in the morning, yeah?” She said, which River nodded without comment. They went back over to the others and they continued their way out of the bar, River saluting Frankie at the door as a symbol that they were leaving willingly. Frankie let out a low growl but nodded as they let Kori lead the group to the apartment.

It wasn’t a far walk from the Labyrinth, probably why they favored it like Lacey and River did, and it was actually surprisingly closer to work than River’s own apartment. Which meant it was in the opposite direction of their apartment making changing before work tomorrow a challenge. Maybe they could? No, no that’d be pushing it. They’d just ask Derek to have a spare set in the back room when they got in. When the group reached the complex, River realized why Rosair had needed help with the rent, it was not an inexpensive building, even if Rosair was as good as he said he was. They all piled into the elevator with Azzy practically leaning on Misae out of exhaustion. Kori was scrolling through his phone while Joliet was fishing out the keys. They reached the sixth floor and wandered down the hall a little before opening the door.

The main space was fairly open, a decent size kitchen off to the right, a television on a stand by far wall in between two doors. There was a small set of stairs that seemed to lead into a small hallway. If River had to guess, they were going to go with the idea that that’s probably where the den’s bedrooms were.

“Bathroom’s the left door, I’ll help with the couch when you come out,” Joliet said. Having been relieved from bed duty, Azzy and Misae wandered their way upstairs. River nodded once and wandered into the bathroom that was quite well furnished for a half bath. They quickly went and splashed some water on their face and came back to Kori and Joliet waiting for them. Joliet had tugged the bed out and it looked really comfy, even by pull out bed standards, as Kori had seemed to stack pillows and extra blankets on the end. Kori then handed over a pair of sweatpants.

“Figured you didn’t want to sleep in jeans,” he said and River couldn’t tell because the apartment was dark, but they could’ve sworn Kori was a little flustered.

“Thanks Kor,” River said with a small smile. Kori nodded and untied his hair as he wandered over to the stairs, shaking it out and running his hand through it. River tried not to be mesmerized by the gesture but based on Joliet’s chuckle they were unsuccessful.

“I’m pretty convinced that’s why he keeps it tied up,” Joliet remarked.

“Probably, he could cause traffic accidents like that.”

“Wait until he reminds you he can be a whore,” Joliet said.

“Huh?” River said with a small flush of pink.

“Kori doesn’t like to advertise he’s an incubus, rather just let people think he’s a slightly tall tiefling. Hell, if he could survive without having to feed, he’d do it. But every once and a while either Misae or Rosair will convince him to dress up and it tends to lead people to have a hard time keeping their hands to themselves.” Joliet said. “But, enough chatter, I’m the door to the right, if you need anything just knock. Most of us don’t get up before noon, but I’m your best bet if you need something in the morning.

“Like a different t-shirt?” River asked.

“Oh yeah, I’ll even loot a pair of underwear if you need it.”

“I don’t think--”

“Don’t worry, Rose won’t notice.” Joliet said with a smirk. River tried not to laugh too loudly at the prospect.

“Thanks Jols,” they said. Joliet grinned and held their arm out, allowing River to come into his side if they wanted to. They did, with ease tucking themselves into his side and receiving a quick squeeze.

“No worries darling, I’ll talk to you tomorrow, yeah?” He said with a smile. River nodded and quickly disappeared back into the bathroom to change into the sweatpants that anyone with eyeballs could tell weren't theirs, but they didn't really mind. They were comfy and that was all that mattered. They tiptoed back out and carefully curled up in the pile of blankets. This.... this was good.

[galaxwrites]

That time Kaito (accidentally) seduced a dragon

Yugioh writing, this time.

crossposted on my AO3

A mix of Zexal and Arc-V

Ship: ...what's the ship name for Kaito x Shun? that's the one

Dungeons and Dragons AU!

Please, enjoy~

-------

The very way Yuto Sakaki was sitting on the throne radiated power, but... His face looked sorrowful. Kaito had seen plenty of sorrowful kings, but never one this...gloomy. Almost as if in mourning.

He did find it weird how there was no advisor or queen that sat besides him. The last time the pirate was in front of the king, he had the Kurosaki siblings at his side. But now...He was alone.

Yuma's voice snapped the pirate out of his thoughts, as the paladin spoke to the dark-robed king. "Your majesty, I am Yuma Tsukumo, Paladin of Ellipas. And me and my gang have a proposition for you."

The king raised an eyebrow. "What kind of proposition, and what is in it for my people?"

"Well, you may already know about your brothers and their kingdoms. And...The threat that Yuri's kingdom poses." Yuma stated. "We believe it'd be best to reunite the kingdoms into one. We've got King Yuya of the Kingdom of Flames on board. We want to continue with you."

Yuto rose from his throne, and walked up to the party of four. Kaito noted that his cape was...well, pretty long. "Reuniting the kingdoms would be vital to our survival, but if I am to get on board with this plan...I need something in return." He stopped right in front of Kaito. The pirate gulped. "My advisor and my queen, Kurosaki Shun and Ruri.. They've gone missing and I am assuming it has to do with the two dragons that have shown up at the edge of my territory. I wish for you to find them, and get rid of my little dragon problem."

Ryouga nodded. "Piece of cake."

The king only narrowed his eyes, at Kaito in particular. "You've been in my kingdom before, and caused quite a stir.. I don't trust you, Tenjou."

"I assure you, your highness, I won't cause that sort of trouble again." Kaito replied, having to physically stop himself from shaking by gripping his arm.

---------------

Yuto had lead the group to a dark forest he called "Raptor's Hollow". It was thick and twisty and Kaito wondered how any creature could live here.

A distant roar, that steadily grew closer as the group pressed forward, was heard. One of the dragons, maybe.

It took about an hour of walking before the group had reached it-a large, dragon-made clearing. Stumps of wood and full trees were scattered around it. Two dragons sat in the middle, one roaring in pain and the other whimpering while trying to help the other.

The roaring one was much bigger than the other. Its scales a dark green, with a lighter teal underbelly and wings. Its gold eyes shimmered with a sort of familiarity.

The other was a deep purple, with hot pink eyes and pastel purple wings. A small ribbon was tied around its tail.

The bigger one lifted its snout, sniffed the air, and roared, heading straight towards the gang. Yuto and Kaito simply jumped out of the way, with Ryouga and Astral simply running.

But like always, Yuma was an idiot and froze up, getting rammed into a tree. He cried out in pain. "OW-"

"YUMA!!" Astral yelled, obviously concerned. The paladin flashed a thumbs up.

"I'm okay! I think I broke a few ribs but I'm okay!"

Kaito sighed. That's gonna be a Cure Wounds later. For now, he had a plan. A risky one, but when were his plans ever risk free?

He took his lute, and strummed a small tune, letting the spell he had prepared be cast on the dragon. The dragon tilted its head and looked at the bard, listening to the tune. Kaito continued to just...play. Not just for his spell, to to calm himself down as well. Playing music always seemed to help.

As his tune ended, the bard put his lute back, and held a hand out to the dragon. "Hello, there." He said. "Are you hurt?"

The dragon nodded, holding up its tail. A rather large bear trap was secured on it, and dark blood still steeped out of it. Kaito winced. The thing looked painful to even look at. But he nodded and walked over to the dragon's tail. He wasn't a formal healer, but he knew a thing or two about traps and how to get unstuck from them.

He barely even touched the trap when the dragon roared. He held out his hand again. "Easy, there." He said, softly. The dragon layed his head down next to Kaito, softly whimpering. Kaito placed his hand on his head. "Try and stay still."

The smaller dragon tilted its head in confusion as Kaito got to work. With all the strength he could muster, he opened up the bear trap. The dragon roared again and raised its tail, only for Kaito to push it back down. "Let me patch you up, first." He reached into his pack and took out two large rolls of gauze, and started wrapping it around the dragon's tail.

Meanwhile, Yuto turned to Ryouga. "Are your party members always like this?"

Ryouga nodded. "Sadly, yes."

"...I am deeply sorry for you."

The siren shrugged. "Eh, I'm used to it. Though Yuma's idiocy can be a bit much."

"I figured." Yuto said.

As that went on, Kaito finished wrapping the dragon's tail. "There. You should be good for now."

The dragon bowed his head in thanks, and made a sort of friendly growl.

"...I can't understand you, you know." Kaito stated, but he got an idea. "Hang on." With a snap of his fingers, he casted a spell; Speak With Animals. "Try now."

Thank you, kind stranger. The dragon said, in its growly voice. Who are you?

"My name is Kaito Tenjo, I'm the captain of the Starry-Eyed serpent." Kaito replied. "Part time bard. And your name?"

Kurosaki Shun. I was cursed to stay in this form until someone breaks the spell placed on me and my Sister.

Kaito raised an eyebrow. "And how do I do that?"

Shun shrugged. I've no idea myself..

The bard thought for a moment. What breaks curses?

....A kiss? That might work!

"...I have an idea, but I have to ask if it's alright for me to kiss you."

In the background, Ryouga mumbled "Of course he's suggesting that." Yuto facepalmed, and Yuma just weakly cheered Kaito on.

Shun tilted his head. ...Why?

"In some of the old fairy tales I've read, the curse is broken with a kiss." Kaito explained. "It might be the case here."

...Just do it then. I can't take this form any longer,

Kaito nodded, and pressed a kiss to Shun's snout. In a flash of dark magic, the dragon-just the one, the other who Kaito guessed was Ruri was just hugging Yuto at this point-seemed to shift into a young man who was just Kaito's type. Dark hair of green and turquoise, yellow eyes, and dressed almost like a classy vampire.

Needless to say, it was pretty much love at first sight.

"Thank you, Kaito." Shun said, with a smile. His voice was smooth and deep.

Kaito took a bow. "You're welcome, Sir Shun."

---------------

After the incident, Yuto joined the alliance, and Shun joined the group. Turns out having a shapeshifting sorcerer as a teammate is a good idea. As night fell, the Starry-Eyed Serpent set sail once more, towards the Kingdom Of Winds. Kaito stood out on the main deck, the wind blowing in his coat. Most of the crew-minus Droite and Gauche- had gone to sleep. But, Kaito never slept. Not like he needed it, anyways.

As the moon and stars rose, Kaito held a hand up to one of the constellations. Gemini.

"Hang on, Gem." He whispered. "I'll find you.."

"What's all this about?" Shun asked, walking up behind Kaito.

The bard turned around, and smiled. "Shun. You need anything?"

The shapeshifter shrugged. "No, just...Couldn't sleep. Why you up?"

"I don't exactly need to sleep." Kaito stated, pointing at his pointy ears. "Just meditation every once in a while. Comes with being a half elf."

"Ah." Shun said. "...May I ask who Gem is?"

"...Gemini is one of my siblings." The bard stated. "Hart isn't my only one. We have ten others, and Gemini's one of them." Kaito explained. "...They'd be 15, today."

"...Did they die?" Shun asked.

Kaito shook his head. "No. Just...Father mistreated them and Virgo. So all of us ran away from him and...we somehow got separated. I'm still searching for them."

"What were they like?"

"Well, Gem's really bright and fun. They loved it when I sang. And Virgo was just really shy, but she got along well with basically everyone." Kaito said. "I miss them..."

"I know the feeling, dude." Shun said. "One time I lost Ruri, and I almost went insane trying to find her."

Kaito chuckled. "I can see it, I suppose."

"Yeah..." Shun gave a small laugh of his own. "One more question?"

"Yeah?"

"...Your siblings seemed to be named after the zodiacs, but you and Haruto aren't?"

"Oh, that. We chose these names to distance ourselves from our father." Kaito explained. "My real name is Sagittarius."

Shun smiled. "..Kaito fits you a bit better."

"I know, it does. Now I've got two questions of my own." Kaito stated. "One, mind calling me Kite? We're friends, now. You don't need to be so formal."

Shun nodded. "Sure, Kite. ..What's the second?"

Kaito-Kite-smiled. "....Is there anyone out there whom you like?"

The shapeshifter blushed. "..T-there's someone. Not s-sure if he reciprocates."

The pirate raised an eyebrow. "Who?"

"...W-well, it's you.." Shun confessed.

Though Kite kept his cool, he was screaming on the inside. This hottie liked him? WHAT THE HELL?

He took a deep breath, and calmed himself. "What if I said I liked you back?"

Shun's face gained a dusting of red. "...Wait, seriously?"

Kite nodded. "Why wouldn't I? You seem like a nice fellow, and it helps that you look positively handsome."

"I.. I m-mean... Oh fuck it." Shun grabbed Kite by the coat, and pulled him in for a kiss.

Kite blushed heavily, but...well, he kissed back. His arms wrapped around Shun's waist and pulled him close.

It wasn't anything big, it was just a kiss, but Kite, in that moment, felt utterly elated.

When the two had to pull away for air, he smiled. "Look at that. I seduced the dragon."

Shun huffed. "Yeah, yeah. Guess you did.."

[currywaifu]

𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: pink hyacinth 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: settsu banri/reader 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: sfw 𝐰𝐜: 2.5k words 𝐝𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨: alyssa ✨, natasha, kat

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: flower shop part-timer banri and friendly competition between him and the reader. might make part 2 if i feel like it. 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: this work is a part of the flower shop event, a series of unconnected flower shop AU one-shots

As the flower shop grew more popular, the more difficult it became for you and your boss to manage everything by yourselves. Even though it wasn’t the holiday season, the orders seemed to increase every week— plus, managing the till while making a last minute arrangement and simultaneously giving people flower recommendations? It was no easy feat, that was for sure.

“Let’s hire someone to work part time alongside you,” your boss finally decided one day as she flipped through the accounting ledger book, “it’s not always the both of us will be at the store at the same time. We need the extra help.”

You hummed  in reply, not thinking much of it at the time as you continued taking inventory. As long as they weren’t overly cold to you, you couldn’t foresee any problems. Well, except for maybe one, little thing.

“My salary won’t be lowered, right?”

…

You were expecting the new hire to be the stereotypical soft, sweet, fluffy looking person of whom grandmas would be drawn to. Instead, he was a guy wearing a purple, leopard-cheetah-whatever animal print bucket hat with a luxury brand logo right smack in the centre.

Aha, it really put the statement in the term statement piece. It certainly gave him a lot of impact.

You wanted to do something in between laughing and crying, but your boss probably wouldn’t appreciate either one. With some restraint, you introduced yourself with a  bright smile, handing him a work apron you hoped was his size.

“If you ever need any help, just let me know,” you offered, leading him to the staff room so he could store his belongings somewhere and take off that dumb hat. “It might take you a while to get used to some things, but I’m sure you’ll get a hang of it soon!”

“I’m a quick study, don’t worry.”

There was something about the way he phrased it that made you intrigued. He said it in a pretty nonchalant manner, even his expression remained relaxed, but the moment your eyes met his you found yourself growing excited. There was a certain glint there that you recognised pretty quickly, and you had a feeling he did, too.

“I think we’ll get along well, Banri-kun,” you said, grinning in anticipation of the next few weeks. It would be an undeniably nice break from the usual routine work brought upon you.

There’s a visible upwards stretch on his lips, too, and though he replied to you with a “who knows?” something in your gut told you the feeling was already reciprocated.

…

Settsu Banri wasn’t lying one bit when he told you he learned things fast. On his first day he took the time to observe you first, watching you go about the different tasks for the day— from how and for how long you watered each plant, to how you went about choosing flowers to add to a bouquet, to how you interacted with the customers and how you subtly managed to convince them that yes, they did need that new and slightly pricey fertiliser.

The way he was able to pick up on the way you did things pretty quickly was something to be envied. Although he still lacked a lot of the stock knowledge and experience you had, he easily made up for it with his skill in… literally everything else.

He wondered what your reaction would be— would you be pissed? That wasn’t really his intention but he was pretty self-aware that some people found that annoying. Though he wasn’t overly concerned of what people thought of him in the first place, it wouldn’t sit right with him either if his co-worker on one of his first jobs didn’t like him.

You stood behind him, your critical eye peering at the way he arranged his flowers. Pink ranunculus and hyacinth, as well as some other filler flowers, laid out atop the worktable. With his choice of an off white Kraft paper, the assortment of pink decorative sheets, and the silver lace ribbon, it was clear that he was a natural— or at least he had a good eye for colour scheme.

“All this fit the customer’s price range, yeah?” he asked. Truly, he already knew the answer. It was easy to estimate the amount of wrapping needed for a bouquet of that size, and the price labels per material made things even easier. He even skimmed the flower language guide printed out to make sure his flower choices were optimal.

In fact, the real question he meant to ask wasn’t even whether it fit the budget or not.

Despite his confidence, he turned his head around if only to gauge your facial expression. You stood still in your spot for a few seconds; then you quietly moved from your station behind his back to beside him, your arm brushing against his as you took a closer look. He didn’t tense up from the contact, but he’s not completely numb to the sudden closeness, either.

Though he was planning on it already, his awareness of you definitely grew as he watched your reactions from the corner of his eye.

A normal person would’ve taken one look and end up deciding then and there if it was nice or not, but as he watched the narrow of your eyes and the way the pads of your fingers felt the texture of papers he knew not a single detail was going amiss with you.

He could respect that. There was something pretty admirable about someone completely dedicated to their craft.

“Yeah,” you replied, “right down to the choice of going for a thicker ribbon instead of something thinner. It’ll turn out pretty,”

As he was about to soak up your praise and reply in stride, you ended up surprising him as you followed up with another comment.

“Though I think your flower choice could be… better,” you commented coolly.

With an eyebrow raised, he couldn’t find it in himself to be offended at all— just plain curious in what you have to say.

“The customer asked for a non-rose bouquet to tell someone they’ve fallen for them because they’re so charming, so ranunculus and hyacinths best fit the criteria,” he explained, curious of how you’d critique his decision.

“The ranunculus was a good choice, but lowkey makes the guy seem shallow?” you pointed out, a shrug soon following. “Also, I wouldn’t go for pink hyacinth— the bouquet ends up implying the guy’s just playing around with the girl. If you went with blue, it’d show that he’s sincere about his feelings.”

Banri let out a little exhale of breath, crossing his arms as he leaned against the table to look at you properly. “Sense, doubt whoever’s getting this is gonna go as hard analysing as you though.”

You rolled your eyes before mirroring his actions, “You never know with these things, but… maybe you’re just upset you didn’t make the perfect choice?”

He huffed, but a smirk rose to his face just as yours did. Were you challenging him? He can’t say he particularly hates it, not when he’s steadily growing more and more interested in you.

“And maybe you’re just paranoid I’ll catch up to your skill level quickly,” he teased, amused when you don’t back down from his provocation. He initially wasn’t serious about it, but if you were down— “I’m sure I can make you admit to my skills in a span of a week, maybe even tomorrow.”

“Oh I’m too nice for that, I’ll give you the rest of the week to make it easier on you,” you cooed playfully, before ultimately coming to a conclusion, “wanna bet?”

“With what?

Your eyes flitted away elsewhere, looking a little too pensive for such a trivial matter. “I mean, I’m broke, but just betting for the sake of pride is boring…” you trailed off, and Banri couldn’t help but helpfully supply his two cents.

“Don’t people in shows usually ask for a favour or some shit with these kinds of things?”

You stared at him blankly. “I… I get what you mean, but not gonna lie, using the word favour makes it sound wrong—“

“Oi oi,” Banri interrupted, “don’t make me out to be some kind of fuckboy.”

“Sorry, sorry,” you let out a laugh that was light, laced with a hum of amusement at the matter, “but like, we don’t have to decide on anything now? Let’s just go with the flow. I’m sure I’ll eventually think of the reward I’ll get~”

“That confident?”

You shrugged, “not really, just optimistic… so, you game?”

…

Honestly, neither of you even set any rules or guidelines for your little competition; it was just a matter of you having fun competing with Banri over numerous things.

Who could convince more people to purchase gardening products they may or may not actually need were hesitating on buying (6-9 in Banri’s favour).

Who could recommend the better flowers (8-4 in your favour).

Who could compute and double check accounting and inventory faster (5-6, you told yourself you’re making it even today).

Who could create the better bouquet arrangement (somehow, a tie. Even with his fashion sense, he was pretty good at coordinating colours and patterns. You did have to stop him from using two animal print papers in one go, though).

Occasionally your boss would walk in the two of you bantering and critiquing each other’s work. At first, you worried she’d tell off the both of you (or maybe just you, since you were technically Banri’s senior in terms of experience), but she deemed it as ‘productive noise’ and let the two of you continue, even chiming in with her own opinions from time to time.

With her encouragement, neither of you held back.

“Oh, you accidentally cut too much ribbon— what a waste,” and “you missed a row in your calculation. Let me show you,” were amongst the common statements you said to each other.

A work relationship that was neither vile nor overly friendly, teasing at very least and strangely productive at most. You were quite satisfied with this turn out, a good way to stave off the boredom work could bring, but life had other things in store for the two of you.

Beyond either of your expectations, your dynamic would soon enough evolve into something beyond little comments exchanged between one another and one-upping each other.

…

There were always hints that beneath both of your competitiveness, there was a lot of thoughtfulness as well. Helping each other out under the guise of “showing them how it’s done”, or “I can do it faster”. Neither of you ever expressed it out loud, but gratefulness didn’t have to be said to be known.

It became less about playfully competing and more about just enjoying each other’s company in your own way.

“Hahh… it’s finally over!” you exclaimed, plopping down on a chair as you began fanning yourself with the closest piece of paper you could pick up. Even in the air-conditioned room, you found yourself sweating, your body unused to the physical exertion normally not demanded of you during work. Even your co-worker seemed exhausted— if the grunting noise he made was to be taken as a telltale sign.

Banri strode over beside you, looking just as exasperated as you felt.

“What kind of dumbass—“

“—decides to buy a bunch of pots,” you continued, halting your fanning motions as your fingers began aching again, “in the evening? What the fuck would you do with 12 plant pots?”

“‘xactly? Shit, didn’t realise those clay pots were gonna be that heavy…” Banri said, your eyes immediately drawn to his fingers. Ahh, he did end up doing most of the heavy labour.

“We didn’t even have to charm anyone into buying things this time,” you commented, before moving to the real thing you wanted to ask about, “by the way… are your hands okay?”

“This much?” he put his palms up, “is nothing~ had a lot worse.”

You don’t say anything in reply, merely staring at the small blemishes newly formed. It was minimal, pretty much shallow scratches, but it was there.

“Y’worried, babe?”

It was a slip of the tongue on his part, but neither of you seemed to mind. It rolled off pretty smoothly, and if asked about it he could easily say it was just a joke between the two of you— a little ‘affection’ to show how close you’ve gotten as friends.

Well, he thought, it wouldn’t be that much of a lie.

“No, not really,” you replied, mind too carried away elsewhere to pay any mind to the new pet name, “but you should still put on a band-aid or something.”

“Already said I was fine,” Banri replied, his eyes following your sudden upright movement as you headed inside the staff room. As he took the initiative to finish cleaning up so you two could head out for the night, the sight of you coming back out empty-handed had him befuddled.

“What’d ya even do in there?”

“So apparently we don’t have any stocked up,” you explained, quickly doing one last glance at today’s revenue, “so let’s stop by the convenience store later to get some… seriously, what if one of us gets pricked by a plant or something?”

If he decided to be honest, he would’ve told you that he already had one in his bag. A certain mother hen had forced him, Taichi, and Hyodo to carry one around and he’d learned a long time ago to not resist Omi over trivial things.

Still… it was pretty cute how you impulsively decided to go buy something because of him. There was no harm in hiding something to see this side of you more, right?

“Y’want me to come with?” he asked.

You turned around to give him a look. “Obviously? Then there’d be no point of buying it tonight rather than tomorrow.”

“Then take inventory faster… or do ya need my help for that, too?”

“Banri-kun~ you totally forgot to water the hyacinths, or do you need my help for that, too?”

Both of your comments are left hanging in the air, an, oddly enough, peaceful silence encompassing the room until,

“Might as well walk you home after this,” you turned around to face him in surprise, “it’s getting pretty late.”

“Already taking me home without even buying me dinner?”

“We’re going to the convenience store anyway, I’ll buy you something, whatever cold sandwich or fruit cup salad you want— my treat,” he joked, peals of laughter bursting from deep within as your eyebrows furrowed in incredulousness.

You rolled your eyes at him, but the smile on your lips betrayed your undeniable amusement. “Awww so sweet of you, but I can’t have you one-up me there. I’ll buy you the themed plasters— how does having hello kitty’s face around your fingers sound?” you retorted, easing yourself into laughter as well.

As the two of you walked along the sidewalk, side by side, you couldn’t help yourself from saying what’s been on your mind for the past week or so now.

“What we have is nice.”

Banri released a small huff, the corners of his lips stretching upwards. Even with its vagueness, the meaning rang clear.

“Yeah, I like what we have too.”

There was no need to rush into anything.

“ thank you for your hard work today at the flower shop! here, feel free to take home this pink hyacinth with you~ ”

【 hyacinth 】 games and sports, rashness 【 pink hyacinth 】 play

“ maybe you’d like some more flowers before heading home? ”

-ˋˏflower shop masterlistˎˊ- |  -ˋˏfic masterlistˎˊ-

[magniloquent-raven]

for the I Love You prompts: harringrove, 20) “You can borrow mine.”

thank you so much for the prompt!!! hope u enjoy what i did with it lol

posted on ao3

--

It’s been two years since the Hargrove-Mayfield family moved to Hawkins, and Billy is still here. He never planned on staying this long—in fact, he started coming up with an escape route the second his boots hit the ground, and yet…

Well, plans change. He didn’t plan on getting stabbed through the chest by a thirty-foot-tall spider demon made of people sludge either, but shit happens. Life happens. Falling in love happens, apparently. Not that Billy thought it would ever happen to him.

But here he is. In Hawkins, Indiana, head-over-fucking-heels, hanging around like a pathetic stray hoping for table scraps of whatever Steve Harrington’s willing to give him. They’re friends now, and Billy’s savouring every moment he can, while it lasts.

Steve asked him, one afternoon, why he was still here. “Figured you’d take off after graduation is all. Hawkins doesn’t exactly have much worth hanging around for,” he’d laughed, a little self-deprecating. “Besides, uh, a lot of bad memories here. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to leave.”

And Billy hadn’t known what to say. Muttered something about sticking around for Max, which wasn’t exactly a lie, but wasn’t anywhere close to the whole truth.

He spends a whole lot of time in that grey area. Weaving just enough reality into his cover-stories to make them solid enough to hide behind. It’s fucking exhausting. And sometimes a dangerous line to walk.

Especially since Steve seems to buy into his bullshit less and less lately.

Maybe it’s the fact that dying and coming back changes your perspective a bit, or hanging around Steve so much is making him soft, or some combo of both, but he’s starting to wonder if maybe he could let go of it entirely, and just…live honestly.

Which isn’t an option, not really. But sometimes, in the small moments when Steve smiles at him and the weight on his shoulders doesn’t feel as heavy, he thinks maybe, maybe, it could be. And it scares him a little. How much he wants it to be an option.

It’s a cold evening in mid-November the first time he really slips.

They’re at Robin’s house, of all places. Despite Billy’s jealousy over the closeness of her and Steve’s friendship, he gets along with Robin. Almost too well, according to Steve.

So, it’s a thing. All three of them hanging out at her place.

Her dad makes awesome mac n’ cheese. Her mom is friendly, but not too friendly. And they let Robin hang out in her room with two boys without making a huge fuss about it.

It’s nice.

Billy almost makes it through the whole evening without doing something stupid, but then Steve (somehow) spills an entire can of Coke on his jacket, and Billy opens his big mouth without thinking.

“You can borrow mine.”

The thing is…Billy doesn’t really get cold anymore. He gets warm still. Way too easily. Sometimes he’ll bundle up just to remind himself he can get warm without it hurting. Without the thing inside him dying of it and destroying him in the process. So, he still wears jackets, sweaters, whatever-- probably more often than he used to, actually-- but he doesn’t need them.

Sometimes he wonders if one day he’ll freeze to death without noticing, or if frostbite isn’t a thing for him anymore. He hasn’t had the balls to test it.

Either way it’s like the world’s dumbest super power. Just another thing reminding him of shit he doesn’t want to remember.

Steve is staring at him. At the jacket in his hand. It’s his leather one. The one Max bought for him after he came back from the hospital. She’d wrapped it up all pretty with a bow and note that said “glad you didn’t die” in purple ink. Susan was mortified when she noticed it but Billy laughed so hard he nearly busted his stitches. 

He’s worn the jacket almost every day since. 

Robin is staring too, with a weird, calculating look in her eye, and he doesn’t like it.

“I…” Steve’s gaze wavers, flickering between Billy’s face and his hand again, “I can just—”

“Just take it, Harrington,” Billy interrupts, hoping the gruffness covers for how pink his cheeks are. He tosses the jacket, and Steve catches it reflexively, still looking at it like he’s not sure it’s real.

“Are you sure?”

Is he sure. That he wants to know what Steve looks like in his jacket? Yes. That he wants anyone else to know that? No.

Billy shrugs, aiming for non-committal. “Not like I need it,” he gestures vaguely towards himself, “Not entirely human anymore, remember?” Bitterness creeps into his tone without his permission.

“Hey,” Steve admonishes. Quietly, softly, but still a reprimand. His eyes are wide, concerned. Billy tries to wave him off, but Steve shakes his head and takes a step closer. “Don’t do that. You’re not a monster.”

“I—” he can’t hold eye contact anymore, not with Steve looking at him like that. He stares at the ugly yellow carpet beneath his feet instead. “Didn’t say that.”

“Yes, you did,” Steve responds immediately, tone firm and direct. Because he knows. Knows Billy better than anyone has in a long time. Which is saying something, because Billy is friends with a girl who’s literally been inside his head.

It makes Billy want to curl up in a hole somewhere and never speak again. Run as far as he can. Cry ‘til he can’t anymore. Break shit. Blow up his life and start over. Being known feels so foreign, he doesn’t know what to do with it.

But under that there’s something delicate, warm and fragile, tentative. He’s afraid to get near it. Like it’ll disappear if he looks too closely. Shatter into pieces if he tries to bring it out of hiding.

“Alright. Alright, fine,” Billy mutters weakly. “But just… wear the jacket, okay? Really. I don’t need it. Besides, it’d look good on you.”

Whoops.

Somewhere off to the side Robin makes a small, amused sound, and alarm bells go off in Billy’s head. But before he can completely panic, backpedal and pretend he was joking despite sounding entirely sincere, Steve grins.

They’ve been friends for over a year now and Billy’s world still stops for a moment when Steve smiles at him.

And then he puts the jacket on and…

Wow.

Okay.

Billy has always liked looking at Steve. He’s never really hidden that fact, just banked on nobody figuring out the why of it. He’s aware-- painfully aware-- that Steve is incredibly gorgeous. 

But this is...

This just isn’t fair.

Steve looks a little sheepish, and stuffs his hands in his pockets, hair falling in his eyes when he ducks his head. And he’s blushing. It’s faint, barely-there, just a light pink tinge to his cheeks that nobody would’ve noticed if they weren’t paying close attention, which. Well. Billy is. 

He wants to feel it under his palms, feel the warmth of it. Wants to know if he can make that blush spread, see how far it would go, chase that heat with his mouth, drop to his knees and watch Steve come undone. He wants--

So much.

He’s sure it’s written all over his face, but he can’t bring himself to care.

“Well?” Steve raises his eyebrows, grin turning teasing as he spreads his arms, glancing down at himself pointedly. 

Billy clears his throat. Blinks. “Suits you,” he answers after a too-long pause. 

“Can we go now?” Robin interjects, rolling her eyes. Her tone is more fond than exasperated, but Billy still flinches a little.

“Yeah,” he says quietly, gaze flicking over to Steve for a second before he looks back at Robin. “Yeah, let’s go.”

He “forgets” to ask for his jacket back before he goes home that night. There’s no guarantee that Steve would wear it again, but Billy can hope. 

And for once in his life, he gets what he wants. Steve starts wearing it all the time. But Billy’s starting to see why people say “be careful what you wish for” because the whole situation is a very mixed blessing. 

He keeps catching Robin giving him weird looks, and, really, he can’t blame her because he’s been so unsubtle lately, it’s embarrassing. And terrifying. Because it’s going to get him noticed by the wrong person someday. 

But he can’t fucking help it, not when Steve’s walking around looking like that. 

Though, Steve’s been acting odd too. Staring at Billy when he thinks no one’s looking, face all pinched and thoughtful. It’s getting worrying. 

Then one afternoon Billy walks into Family Video and Steve pulls him into the back room. No hello or anything, just a hand around Billy’s wrist and a determined set to his jaw. 

He locks the door behind them.

“Steve?”

“I talked to Max this morning.” 

“O...kay?”

Steve sighs, runs a hand through his hair. His other hand is still wrapped around Billy’s wrist. “She said. Um. That jacket was a gift?”

Oh.

Shit.

“Yeah, so?” Billy flinches at his own tone but Steve doesn’t move, doesn’t pull away. His grip tightens, fingertips pressed to Billy’s skin hard enough to feel his pulse pounding. 

Steve takes a step forward. They’re close enough that Billy can see the purple shadows under Steve’s eyes. He doesn’t get enough sleep. Always asking Billy if he’s still having nightmares, never worrying about his own. Billy’s heart aches, and he hopes Robin will take care of Steve if this conversation ends his and Steve’s friendship. Someone needs to look after this boy if Billy isn’t there to do it. 

He hates that thought.

“So, I… Billy, why’d you give it to me?”

“Because…” Panic hits him hard, belatedly, as he tries to imagine actually answering that question. His stomach clenches, flips, and he curls in on himself. “Because you needed it,” he finishes lamely. 

But of course Steve sees through him, of course he does. “Really?” Steve sighs, rolling his eyes.

“What do you want from me, Steve?” Billy snaps, nervous energy making him jittery, he feels cornered, caught up in all the ways this could blow up in his face, trapped. He calms down a smidge when regret hits him, and he takes a breath, hates himself a little for snapping. 

“I want you to tell me it meant something, asshole.”

Billy freezes. 

He looks up at Steve, really looks at him, sees tension in his shoulders, the nervous twist of his mouth, uncertainty in his eyes. 

Oh.

“You...really?” Billy breathes, quietly, terrified of shattering the moment. “It does--it--it did, I--” Words have never failed him so completely. He used to be good at this. It would be utterly mortifying if not for the sweet smile spreading across Steve’s face. He’s strangely okay with making a fool of himself if it means Steve looking at him like that. “I wanted…” he squeezes his eyes shut, bracing himself, “I wanted to take care of you. I always...want that. You needed something and I--I’d give you anything--” 

Steve’s hands are warm. He cradles Billy’s face gently, so careful, and tilts his face upwards until Billy meets his eyes. 

“Anything?” 

Well. No turning back now. Might as well embrace this whole honesty thing. “Yeah, pretty boy. Anything. Besides, you look hot as fuck in leather.”

Steve grins at that, eyes crinkling at the corners, and he lets out a huff of a delighted laugh. “In that case, I’m gonna need you to kiss me--”

He barely has time to finish his sentence before Billy lunges forward, crashing their lips together. It’s messy at first, desperate, Billy’s fingers threaded through Steve’s hair, pulling him closer. A whine escapes him (that he would deny later) when Steve pulls back, but he’s only gone for a second. He presses forward again, but gentler this time, slow, one hand falling to Billy’s waist and the other sliding to the back of his neck. 

Billy could’ve stayed like this forever, but a loud, insistent knock at the door makes them both jump.

“Steve, I don’t care if you’re mid-BJ right now, it’s my break, and you locked yourself in there with my stuff!” Robin yells through the door. 

Steve rests his forehead against Billy’s shoulder and he muffles a laugh into his shirt. “Goddamnit, Robin,” he mutters, and lifts his head to glare at the door, “Alright!” he calls, then turns to Billy. “To be continued?” There’s a question in his eyes, more than what he’s saying out loud.

Billy brushes a lock of hair from his face, and grins, “Count on it.”