#it started out as a doodle until i started taking it seriously halfway through it

[m0r0n-m4gn37]

I think she's neat

#dragon raja #Chen motong #Nono #My art #imagine having a consistent art style #I think this nono design is the cutest #it started out as a doodle until i started taking it seriously halfway through it

[absolutepokemontrash]

The Demon Bros Play DND!

Who’s ready for some Stupid Headcanons?

So, the Satanic Panic of the 1980s claimed that the tabletop RPG known as Dungeons and Dragons had the power to turn your children into satanists and devil worshippers. So of course, the brothers have totally played DND after hearing about all the human world nonsense.

Lucifer the Back-up Back-up DM

He’s too busy to play this game dammit, stop inviting him! What do you mean both Satan and Simeon can’t DM the one-shot? Ugh... fine.

Despite all his UUUUUUUUGGGGHHH, Lucifer is a damn good storyteller, prepare to be immersed as hell.

Also, sorry guys, he’s a rule whore. If something’s against the rules, YOU AREN’T DOING IT.

He’s also a complete sadist who will randomly get everyone to roll perception checks for NO REASON.

Lucifer has definitely stood up and slammed his hands on the table while giving a description for extra effect, Mammon screamed and nearly fell out of his seat which REALLY ruined the mood.

“Everyone, we’re rescheduling, I’m too busy.”

He’s been a player a few times, and he’s NOT good at it. All his characters end up being really generic and boring. He’s better at being the world and everything in it, not the dummy wandering around it.

Human/fighter lookin’ motherfucker

In conclusion, he’s a good DM, but he’s probably too busy to play.

Over-Powered Self Insert (Mammon)

This game is for nerds! He’s not playin’, Levi!

Fine, his character is great and amazin’ and is also him. MC! What do these numbers mean-

Mammon’s the type of player to make his character a self insert and not take it too seriously, then get really REALLY attached as the campaign progresses.

He’s the type not to make a backstory for his character either, so go wild DM MCs!

He also both purposefully and accidentally metagames a whole bunch. Like dude, YOU know this, YOUR CHARACTER DOES NOT.

Shit he forgot his dice, can he borrow some?

“Okay MC, that’s five points of piercing damage.” “I RUN OVER AND HEAL THEM! I’LL SAVE YA MC!”

Mammon goes out of his way to save MC’s character long before it would make sense in-character to do so.

“Well, as your first man it’s my duty to save your character! You’ll probably be a blubberin’ mess if I didn’t...”

He’s not the best role player, but he’s also not the worst at it either. He tends to break character when things get too serious and he doesn’t know what to do.

Notes who? He came in here with one sheet of printer paper and it’s for doodling only.

He and Asmodeus start the tavern brawls. No question about that.

Theft is very common, he’s stealing from everyone, including but not limited to: the party, the royal guards, the dead enemies, the giant fuck-you dragon that Satan dropped in there to deter Mammon from stealing...

“I’m gonna steal that crown from the dragon.” “Roll stealth.” “Nat 20 BITCHES.” “Fuck you.”

If his character dies, may the Demon King have mercy on his greedy little soul because he’s going to mope about it for a damn long time.

Over-Powered Self Insert Again (Leviathan)

His character totally isn’t a self insert, shut up! He just looks and acts like an idealized version of himself!

He’s the one with twenty pages of character info and backstory AND the amazing commissioned art.

Levi has about 40 sets of expensive blue dice that he claims gives him the best rolls but an average session with him usually leads to roughly 10 crit fails.

While his luck with dice isn’t that good, he’s the player who will get as much out of their turn as possible, AKA break out the calculators and notes we’re doing some math.

His turn goes on for at least ten minutes because of all the shit he’s doing. When you finally think it’s over he goes “I still have my movement!”

Takes notes like a madman, every bit of lore and character info is being written down, meaning it’s a headache for everyone involved if there’s a continuity error because Levi WILL point it out.

“So you all head to the east, the great Valley of-” “Hang on, valley? In the second session you said there was a mountainous area to the east.” “Levi, shut up.”

Levi is the self appointed “guys come on let’s get back on track!” player, and whoever’s DMing is grateful to have him.

Levi is kind of the opposite of Mammon in terms of character seriousness, at first he’s taking everything super seriously and then as the campaign goes on he slowly loosens up and has some fun.

Out of curiosity one day he searches up a magical girl DND class and he’s ALL OVER IT. PLEASE LET HIM BE A MAGICAL GIRL NEXT CAMPAIGN-

Damn good at roleplaying, he’s carrying the entire in-character discussion until everyone else gets into it.

The Done With Your Bullshit DM (Satan)

So, this is the game that’s supposedly summoning him all the time despite the fact that he hadn’t been up to the human world since the 50s... what the fuck is everyone on up there?

It was the 80s, probably a lot of drugs.

When Satan DMs, you can only break the rules if it enhances the story... or if it fucks with Lucifer’s really boring character.

He will fudge dice rolls every once and a while, he also gets very attached to the characters everyone has made so he doesn’t want to perma-kill any of them unless they roll a DND quadruple natural 1 sin or something.

As attached as he gets, he isn’t above completely raging, killing everyone’s characters, and ending the session if everyone’s being annoying.

Don’t worry, your characters will be safe and sound next session once everything calms down... just don’t mention how Satan burned your character sheet right in front of you. It’s your fault if you didn’t make a second copy of your character sheet!

He’s pretty decent when it comes to improv when a player stumbles into something he didn’t plan out, but that’s not going to stop him from getting a little annoyed.

Though, if you somehow manage to get to the big bad too soon... yeah sorry, he’s got a way more dramatic fight scene planned, your player’s getting conveniently blasted out of there.

As a player, Satan is pretty decent at the game overall, but he tends to be a little aggressive if there’s an overarching mystery to be solved.

He needs to understand what’s going on! He doesn’t care if it upends the plot or it’s too early to find out! He needs to know!

His character is actually distinct and different from himself, Satan thinks it’s more interesting that way. All the books he’s read have made him a pretty awesome role player!

Satan’s notebook both as a DM and a player is filled to the brim, no detail is too insignificant to be put on the page.

Satan doesn’t fear dungeon puzzles... dungeon puzzles fear Satan.

“Are you all stupid?! This puzzle is so easy a four year old could solve it!”

I ROLL TO SEDUCE- (Asmodeus)

At first he didn’t want to play, he doesn’t play these kinds of games, sweetie. He’s too pretty.

When he’s finally convinced he puts a decent amount of effort into his character, but leaves the backstory pretty open.

Asmo would probably be the bard... right? No. He’s the warlock with the magic sugar daddy patron, and the warlock patron is spoken to as such.

“Hey baby... how’ve you been? Have I been good~?” “...”

Huh! Who woulda thought that all the bedroom roleplaying would transfer so well to DND!

Simeon is the only DM that doesn’t immediately shut this down, so Asmo will be extra inclined to play if Mr. Nice Shoulders is DMing.

When he gets really into it he buys a bunch of sparkly and very pretty dice, they bring him good luck in every roll!

Asmo has a fictional harem, no question about it. It gets to the point where Satan, Lucifer, and Simeon stop describing NPCs as attractive.

He’s rolling to seduce either way, he’s turned many an antagonist into a lover. To be fair, Asmo’s horniness has gotten everyone out of a lot of jail cells... so they can’t complain.

His notes consist of really random comments about the plot and the other players. It’s also COATED with doodles.

‘Wow, this character is such an asshole, I hope Belphie kills them.’ ‘Shit.’ ‘MC looks so cute when they play their character!!!!!!!! :D’

Poor bab forgets the rules a lot... it’s just too much to remember, okay?! How was he supposed to know that he ran out of spell slots an hour ago?!

Please help him, MC...

*Dice Cronch* (Beel)

Homeboy has been given edible dice, no question. He has also eaten the non-edible dice...

Beel goes to Satan for help with making his character, and he ends up really loving the character! :D

Problem is, he’s not that good at roleplaying... D:

“Can my character eat that person?” “Beel, no- you know what? Let me check what you’d need to roll to do that.”

I’ll save you MC part 2 electric boogaloo, but when it comes to Beel, the entire party is getting protected, no matter how little it makes sense in-character.

While Beel does take notes, a lot of them don’t end up being very important for later events. For example, he’ll jot down stuff about the layout in one room, but it turns out he didn’t take notes for the room that was actually going to be used for a boss fight.

He’s always nice to the NPCs, shame Belphie doesn’t show them the same courtesy.

Murder Hobo (Belphie)

Chaotic evil.

“Belphie, your character’s alignment is neutral good, remember?” “Fuck that, this guy’s annoying me.”

If Belphie doesn’t like an NPC, it’s up to the rest of the party to stop him from derailing the campaign and killing them.

He has space themed dice because cow-man likes space and thought they were pretty.

Notes? NOTES? You think Belphegor, the Avatar of SLOTH, takes notes? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-

He’s drooling all over the notebook... ew. Someone wake him up and tell him it’s his turn.

He puts about 35% effort forth to make a halfway decent character, and approximately 4% effort to actually roleplay.

Belphie sleeps through important plot details so he’s almost always really confused. He’ll turn to MC and ask them to explain what he missed before not learning his lesson and going back to sleep.

Wake him up for the dungeon puzzles though, he and Satan love those.

“Okay, we can’t see what’s in the room because none of the conscious party members have dark vision?” “Nope, what do you do?” “...I shove Mammon inside and shut the door.” “WHAT?!”

Bonus! The Best DM (Simeon)

Our favourite angel has homebrewed this entire campaign and boy fricken howdy are these players going to enjoy it.

Simeon fudges the dice rolls to avoid anything too irreversibly bad happening, buuuuuuut he’s still a total asshole who does the random perception rolls to keep everyone on their toes.

Everyone gets a character arc god dammit, even if they don’t have a backstory, one will be provided!

He’s got a map, he’s got miniatures, he’s got dice and backup dice for the backup dice, he’s got DM notes for days!

Simeon could be a voice actor with the amount of character voices he can do, no one ever gets confused with who’s talking.

Did someone just uncover a massive bit of plot that was meant to be found out later? Good job! No harm done! Simeon’s DM improv is second to none, and the plot will adjust accordingly!

#Obey me #Obey me! #Obey me Headcanons #obey me! headcanons #Obey me Lucifer #Obey me Mammon #Obey me Simeon #Obey me Leviathan #obey me beelzebub #Obey me Belphegor #Obey me Satan #Obey me Asmodeus #Obey me MC #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date?

[totallysharkycomplete]

Waiting For You Part Six (Ford Pines x Reader) Home In Your Arms

She awoke before the dawn as usual. Under the blankets was warm. Although the boat was cold Ford’s body, which was firmly pressed against hers, provided plenty of heat. The gentle swaying of the boat would have made it easy to fall back asleep, but since the weather was supposed to be clear today, she decided to get up and watch the sunrise.

Gently slipping out of the covers, and out of Ford’s grasp, she quickly dresses into more layers before quietly stalking up on the deck. She could still hear the heavy breaths and snores coming from the cabin below. The deck was even colder than the cabin, and there was a layer of frost on the upper windows. She quickly made a cup of coffee then downed it, then leaned against the front railing, and waited for the sunrise as the clouds on the horizon turned pink.

She was lost in thought, so when someone wrapped their arms around her waist she jumped. The person behind her chuckled and she let out a sigh.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Ford’s lips are right next to her ears, his stubble is scratchy on her skin.

She lets out a hum, then turns around in his arms to face him. “You could still be sleeping.”

He begins to plant gentle kisses to her cheek. “Couldn’t without you.”

She giggles and places a hand on his cheek, her thumb runs over his stubble.

“Why are you up so early?” He almost whines against her skin, still leaving soft kisses on the small amount of skin exposed on her cheeks and upper neck.

She let out a content sigh. “Weather is supposed to be clear. I wanted to watch the sunrise. Would you like to join me?”

He moves his head up and presses his forehead to hers. “I’d love to.”

She leans forward the inch she needs to so she can plant a kiss on Ford’s lips. It’s soft, but conveys so many feelings. Love, affection, the sense of being home.

Ford tries to lean forward for another kiss but she quickly turns around. He lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Sorry, but the sun rises this way.” She teases.

Ford’s hand is on the back of her neck, moving the hair away from it so he can press more kisses to her skin.

“You’re in a very touchy mood this morning.” She comments, leaning her back against his chest.

“Do you want me to stop?” He murmurs, lips still on her skin.

“No,” she quickly tells him. “Just an observation.”

He leaves a few more kisses on her skin before her hand wraps around his. “Ford, look.”

The sun had just peaked above the horizon, brilliant oranges and yellow began to fill the sky, casting warm rays of light on the small sleepy fishing village they had docked near. Soon the warm rays fell onto her face. “Isn't it beautiful?”

“Not more so than you.” Ford tightens his grip around her waist and rests his chin against the top of her head.

She’s glad Ford can’t see the blush on her face. Even after thirty plus years had passed, he could still make her blush. She was about to say something modest back to Ford until she heard a burp and scratching noises.

“Ugh, get a room.” Stanley had obviously joined them on deck.

“We have a room.” She rolls her eyes. “I think you forget we share sometimes. Your memory is slipping old man.” She teases without moving from Ford’s grip.

“Yeah, yeah.” He waves her comment away before heading inside the upper cabin to the coffee she had prepared.

There's a moment of peace, you might almost call it pure bliss. To spend the sunrise wrapped in your lover's arms, their warm breath leaving them in clouds of hot air, the boat gently rocking them as the morning tide rolled in.

“Everytime I wrap my arms around you, it feels like coming home all over again, to where I belong.” Ford whispers.

She turns to face him again and cups his face with both her hands, and kisses the tip of his nose. “When did you become so romantic?”

Ford leans into her touch. “I mean it.” He pauses for a second. “I don’t think I ever told you, but when I first came back and saw you, my first thought was that I had died and gone to heaven. Being with you again is everything I’ve ever wanted and more.”

“If you had died and gone to heaven then that would have meant Stan was in your heaven too.” She laughs.

“He’s still her now.” He grabs her hand to hold it still so he can tilt his head and kiss her thumb.

She laughs even louder this time, then wraps her arms around his neck to draw him into another kiss. “I love being in your arms. I love being your home, because you’re mine too.”

The boat rocks them gently as the morning sun warms their bodies. Their hearts are full of love for one another. “Let’s stay like this forever, and just let the world drift away.”

Ford is about the respond before Stan interrupts.

“Hey love birds! We gonna explore some anomalies today or what?” Stan barks from behind them.

Ford's eyebrows furrow and he goes to turn his head to snap at Stanley, but her hands catch his chin and turn his face back to her. She kisses him passionately three times and he’s breathless. She untangles herself from Ford and heads towards Stan.

“What’s on the agenda for today co-captain Stanley?” She smiles.

Ford is left standing there speechless and in a daze.

“Are you coming, co-captain Ford?”

Ford looks over at her. She squinting her eyes as the morning sun washes over her features, her cheeks pink from the cold. He has never been more in love with her.

“Coming, associate co-captain.”

---------- By the time the sun was high in the sky he three of them had docked the boat and climbed halfway up the mountain. The town folks had told them about strange flying creatures that lived near the top of the mountain.

The sun beat down on them, and they soon found themselves needing to take off some of the many layers of winter clothes they had dressed in for the day. About an hour into the hike Stan speaks up.

“Hey poindexter, how bout a break?” He huffs as he wipes sweat from his brow.

“We’re very close to where the creatures were reported being seen.” Ford is warm, sweat gleams on his brow, but his attitude is chipper and he’s not as nearly out of breath.

“Even the kid needs a break.” Stan motions towards her.

She rolls her eyes at Stan still calling her a kid. She’s also out of breath, almost as bad as Stan. The high altitude is getting to her, but she wouldn’t voice it.

Ford places a hand on her shoulder. “What do you think? Would you like to take a short rest.”

She smiles and nods. “Let’s take a short rest. We wouldn’t want Stan passing out on us.”

Stan grunts but doesn’t say anything. Glad to finally have a break from hiking. The three of them sit on the ground and drink their water. Ford is sitting as close as he can to her. She shivers as a cold breeze blows past them, feeling a little cold now that they have stopped moving. Ford wraps an arm around her shoulder, she looks up at him and smiles a wordless thank you.

After a few minutes they stand up and begin to get moving again. She groans as she stretches, and once they start moving again she is behind both the boys on the path.

“You alight? You’re normally faster than me.” Stan turns his head to talk to her while they move up the narrow mountain path.

“I’m fine, my legs are just a bit sore.” She tells him.

They continue their hike until they break through the tree line. They can see the horizon on the sea, and far below them is the small fishing village where they left the Stan O’ War II docked.

She’s stunned by the beautiful view and almost doesn’t realise Stan and Ford haven’t stopped walking like she had. She scurries to catch up to them, until she sees a bush near her shake. Looking over she sees a small head of a rat pop out.

“Aww.” She says softly to not scare the rodent away. “Hey little fella.” She coos.

The rat scurried back into the bush at the sound of her voice, much to her disappointment. She turns to catch up to the boys, After a few steps she hears a strange sound. Somewhere between a squeak and a squawk. Turning around she sees the rat has raised itself out of the bush with a pair of wings. This must be the creature they had been looking for!

“Fascinating!” She says to herself and pulls out her sketchbook and begins to jot down a quick doodle on the animal. The sun catches on her silvery pen and flashes a light up at the rat-like creature. It squawks loudly then dives towards her.

Further up the path Ford is mumbling to himself and Stan is tuning him out. Both of them freeze when they hear a shriek. They both stop dead in their tracks and whip around to see she is no longer behind either of them. The brothers share a second of a glance before booking it back down the trail.

It doesn’t take them long to get back to her. When she comes into sight they can see she's using one arm to shield her face, the other is holding her notebook and waving it aimlessly behind her, trying to hit the creature that’s attacking her hair.

Stan is the first to her, he pulls her to his chest with one arm and throws a left hook at the creature, sending it crashing into a tree. There's a moment of silence before Ford is pulling her into his arms. Stan makes his way over towards the tree.

“What happened? I thought you were right behind us?” Ford’s hands are on her face, tilting her head around and looking for any sign of injury. Her hands rest on his chest.

“Ford, I’m okay, promise. You were both further up the path when I noticed the creature. I thought if I called to you I’d scare it off. So I tried to get a quick sketch, and I must have scared it because it started attacking my hair.” She can’t help as a laugh escapes her.

“You could have been hurt.” Ford’s voice is soft as he scoulds her.

“But I wasn’t.” She teases.

“Please promise me you won’t go off on your own again? I don’t know what I’d do if you got hurt.” Ford told her seriously.

She stops smiling when she realises Ford is actually upset, not with her, but by the fact she could have been hurt. She takes his hands, which were still on her face, and holds them in hers. She leans up and gives him a soft, reassuring kiss.

“I promise.” She whispers.

“Check this out!” Stan shouts and holds the unconscious ratbird in between them by its feet.

She shrieks with surprise and jumps away from Ford. “Stanley that’s disgusting!”

“What!? I thought you like rodents!” He laughs, shaking the bird closer towards her as she takes another step back.

“I wouldn’t pick up a wild rat or bird with my hands, or let it that close to my face! Who knows where that thing has been!” She scolds him. “If it wakes up and bites you I’m not helping you.”

In the commotion Ford slipped on some protective gloves from his pack. “Hold it still please Stanley.” Stan complies and Ford gently stretches its wings open and begins to list off observations about it that she quickly sketches down. “It’s wingspan is too small to carry it far. That’s probably why it is native only to this island.” He lists other things off like teeth size and tail length.

Stan gently set the animal down. “Think that’s enough for today right?”

The other two agree and they begin their trek back down the mountain. She is in front of them now to set the pace, and so the boys can’t lose sight of her. When the path begins to get wider, Ford falls back a bit to walk besides Stan.

“Thank you for earlier.” Ford tells his brother.

Stan looks at him confused. “Didn’t do nothing.”

“You were able to get to her first and protect her from the rat bird.” Ford reminds him.

Stan waves it off. “Don’t mention it.” Stan wouldn’t admit to Ford how scared he was to see her get attacked like that, he’d rather not think about it.

When they make it back to the ship the sun is already touching the horizon. It was Ford’s night to cook and the other two went to rest in their beds. When the food was ready Ford headed below deck to find them both asleep. He wasn’t surprised Stan had nodded off. Almost anytime he wasn’t actively moving or engaged in an activity he would fall asleep. But his believed fiance would normally be reading a book or be annotating her notes.

He gently brushes some hair out of her face and she stirs. She smiles up at him and grabs his hand and brings it down to her lips to kiss his palm. His heart flutters at her sweet act.

“I fell asleep.” She murmurs, voice heavy with sleep.

“I noticed.” He leans down to kiss her. “Are you feeling alright?”

“I feel perfect now that you’re here.” She giggles and he frowns. She frowns too, but only to mock him. “I feel fine Stanford. I guess today was just too exciting is all.”

“Well, why don’t we have dinner then we can go right back to bed?” He suggested.

“You’re perfect. I love you” She smiles up at him, eyes half lidded.

“I love you too.”

They stare into each other's eye, and neither of them notice the loud snoring has stopped. There’s a loud groan announcing Stan has awoken.

“If you love him so much why don’t you marry him?” Stan teases, she rolls her eyes.

The next morning Ford is the first to wake up. His love is tucked close to his side, buried under the blankets. He turns on his side to draw her impossibly closer. She makes a noise at the movement but doesn't awaken.

The bed feels a little warmer than normal. Maybe the day will be warmer than the forecast had predicted Ford thinks. Ford lays there for a while, enjoying the silence and warmth for a while until she begins to stir.

He feels her stretch under his grasp and she looks up at him eyes still droopy from sleep.

“Good morning my dear. Would you like to join me for some coffee?” Ford murmurs into her hair.

She shakes her head no. “It’s too cold.” She tries to burrow closer to Ford to get any extra warmth.

“I’ll go turn the heater on upstairs, join me when you’re ready.” Ford moves the hair away from her forehead and kisses her there then freezes. He moves the back of his hand to her forehead, then his cheek to confirm his thought. “You’re burning up!”

“No, it’s cold.” She denies.

“You must have a fever. Do you feel alright? When did you start feeling sick?” Ford doesn’t bother keeping his voice down and clearly wakes up his brother.

Stan rolls his eyes at the commotion and makes his way to the upper deck.

Ford quickly stands. “I’m going to get dressed then go find a doctor in town. With a town this small there must be one to make house calls.”

“Ford, please, there’s no need for that.” She sniffs, still laying in the bed, pulling the covers closer around her.

“There really isn’t.” Stan grumbled, coming back down the stairs, a cup of water in one hand. The other was full of an assortment of pills. “Take these.” He gruffly shoved both the water and pills at her. She obeyed, sat up, and quickly tooked the unknown pills Stan had handed her. “Go back to sleep.” She layed down and closed her eyes, rolling over to face the wall away from the brothers.

“What did you give her?” Ford whispered, concerned.

Stan places a finger over his lips and motions towards the upper deck. They sit inside the cabin where Stan had turned on the space heater.

“She of course came prepared and packed herself cold medicine.” Stan slides the first aid box across the table so Ford can examine the medicine boxes of everything he had given her. “Almost every winter she gets a cold or two. Her legs start to hurt and she gets really tired. Should have seen it coming’ yesterday but was a little distracted by the birds. She must have noticed, but she never says anything. Thinks she can power through a fever.” Stan pauses a moment to laugh. “There was one time I caught her working on the portal shivering and sweating’ bucket. Practically had to drag her back to bed. The older we’ve gotten through, the less stubborn she’s gotten at admitting she’s actually sick.”

It finally dawns on Ford just how much Stanley had taken care of her while he was gone. Sure, she had told Ford directly that he had, but he thought she was just putting in a good word for her friend. Ford knows it to be true now. He remembers once in college she went to class with a fever just to be sent back to her dorm. If Stan hadn’t been here to make her rest when she was sick, she would have worked herself until she passed out or worse.

The cabin is silent for a moment.

“Thank you, Stan.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“No, Stanley, listen.” Ford looks at his brother and there are visible tears in his eyes. “She had told me before that you had taken care of her in my absence. I hadn’t thought much about it, since she's always been so strong and independent. I know she's also stubborn. If you hadn’t been there to make her rest… Thank you Stanley, truly, for taking care of her while I was gone.” Ford places his hand on his brother’s shoulder and gives it a firm squeeze. Stan returns the action, not commenting on the noticeable tears.

“She’d probably be happy to have you back downstairs to keep her warm.” Stan says, looking away from his brother. He doesn't want to see him cry, or he knows he will cry as well.

“I think you’re right.” Ford stands and goes to join her back in bed.

---------- Ford wasn’t exactly excited to go to the carnival on the boardwalk, but her and Stan conveyed it would be fun.

“It’ll be like the one back home! Remember when we tried to join the circus with our pet possum?” Stan laughed a deep belly laugh as they made their way past the ticket booth.

“You never told me you had a pet possum.” She's walking next to Ford, his hand is held tight in hers.

“But he told you about trying to join the circus?” Stan inquires.

“I’d argue he was more your pet than mine.” Ford argues.

They make their way around the attractions, eat some fair food, and play a few games. She has two stuffed animals they boys had won for her in her hands, and is filled with joy.

“You there, miss, would you like to know your future?” A voice calls to her, and she turns to see a fortune teller beckoning her towards their tent. The fortune teller's eyes are glassy and they don’t hold her gaze, they hold a long cane indicating they are blind. She feels an arm tighten around her shoulder.

“Fortune tellers aren’t to be trusted.” Ford tells her.

“It’s just for fun,” she comments. “There’s no way they could actually know my future.”

“I’ve traveled to different dimensions. I think almost anything is possible at this point.” Ford reminds her.

“I say we do it. I’d like to know when I get filthy rich.” Stan begins walking into the tent.

She tried to follow in after him but the fortune teller held up their hand. “Only one person inside the tent at a time please.”

So Ford and her wait outside the tent. It’s only a few minutes later when Stan exits with a huff. “You’re right, total scam, they don't know anything.”

The fortune teller exits the tent again and points over to her and Ford. “The six fingered one next.” Then enters the tent.

A chill runs up her spine. The teller was clearly blind, but to call Ford out like that. She shares a surprised look with Ford, who surprisingly goes into the tent after them.

Stan is clearly still mad about whatever he had been told, so she takes his hand. “I’m sure whatever they said it wasn’t true. Like you said, probably just a scam.”

Stan looks down at her warm smile and sighs. “You’re right kid. Just a scam. I should know.” They both share a laugh.

Ford exits the tent looking lost in thought.

“You’re next girly.” The teller holds open the flap for the tent and she makes her way in. The room looks bigger on the inside and there are two chairs on either side of a table with a fake looking crystal ball.

She sits and watches the fortune teller places their hands on the ball and thinks for a second before speaking. The ball lights up and smoke swirls around in it. “I would ask what you’d like to know about your future, but I already know what knowledge you seek. It weighs heavy on your heart. Knowing the truth might be even more of a burden. Would you still like to know?”

She thinks for a second. If the fortune teller was being honest and knew what she wanted to know, what she always thinks about, then she wants to know. “Will Ford and Stan die before me? I don’t think I could lose Ford again, and well, Stan is my best friend.”

The teller nods their head and hums. “As I suspected. Losing the ones you love is a heavy buren. Unfortunately you must bear the burden again, fortunately you only must bear it once.”

“Who?” Her voice quivers.

“As I said, losing someone you love is difficult, as you know. He cannot see his brother lost again. He will go first. You will be needed to comfort the six fingered one. This universe isn’t always fair, but it seems it will go easy on you, and you will not have to lose him again.” They remove their hand from the ball and the lights and smoke fade. “Now you know, you must live with this knowledge the rest of your life.”

She looks down at her hands and nods, then stands to exit the tent. She finds her boys standing exactly where she left them. Still looking lost in thought and a little angry. She pulls Ford into a hug and draws him from his thoughts.

“What did they tell you?” Ford asks, returning the hug.

She rests her chin on his chest to look up at him with a small smile. “That I’ll get to spend the rest of my life with you, and that’s all I want.”

“They really tell you that?” Stan grunts, clearly not happy with what he was told.

“No,” she confesses. “But they didn’t have to say that for me to know it, and-” She turns to look back at the tent and sees it's gone. She turns quickly to confirm what she sees if real. Then turns back to the twins, whose jaws are dropped.

The three share a look then agree to head back to the ship for the night.

Stan tosses and turns that night. He can’t seem to sleep. What the fortune teller had told his replays in the back of his mind and he’s still pissed about it. He throws off the sheets and puts on his coats and boots and heads to the upper deck. To his surprise, he wasn’t alone.

“Why are you up so late kid?” Stan slumps down onto the bench by her.

“I imagine for the same reason you can’t sleep.” She leans her head against her friend with her sigh.

There's a moment of silence between them. The only sound is the waves gently crashing on the nearby shore and the soft groan of the boat as it moves gently with the sea.

“What did they tell you?” They ask in unison. They both breath out a laugh.

“You first.” She says.

He thinks for a moment. “They told me I’m going to die before you and Ford. Ford, I get, he’s healthy and in shape.” She elbows him. “Not implying you ain’t! It’s just, I didn’t want to die before you is all. I’ve caused you enough suffering.”

She places her hand on his shoulder. “Stanley, don’t think like that. You haven’t caused me any suffering. You’re my best friend.”

He runs his hands down his face. “It’s my fault Ford got lost in the portal for thirty years, it’s my fault you didn’t get to start a family with him like you had planned to. It’s my fault you didn’t get to get married yet. It’s my fault that-”

“Stanley!” She shouts sternly at him and he turns to face her, surprised by the authority in her voice. She takes his hand in hers. “Stan you can’t think like that. You know I’ve forgiven you a long time ago with what happened with Ford. The rest of it… It doesn’t matter, because if it weren’t for you I wouldn’t have him back. If it weren’t for you I wouldn’t have met the most amazing great niece and nephew ever. If it weren’t for you I wouldn’t be sailing the seas right now with the two people I care the most about in the world, discovering amazing anomalies like I’ve always wanted to.”

Stan’s face is turned from hers but he gives her hand that’s holding his a tight squeeze. There's another moment of silence. “What did they tell you?” His voice croaks, she wouldn’t mention how he reached his free hand up to wipe his tears.

“They told me about the same.” She confesses. “That you’ll die before me, but I’ll be here for Ford.”

Stan Turns back to look at her. “Do you…” Stan doesn’t really want to finish the thought. He doesn’t want to think about their mortality.

“I’ll go before Ford. They said it was the universe going easy on me.” She smiles up at Stan, but the smile doesn't reach her eyes.

He pulls her into a tight hug. “Should we tell Ford?” She sniffs as tears sting her eyes.

“No. He wouldn’t want to know.”

----------- “Do you hear that?” Stan asks.

Ford and her are both sitting at the table noses in a book in the upper cabin of the ship. She and Ford listen, share a glance with each other, then look back at Stan.

“No,” they chime in unison.

Stan is driving the boat towards their next destination where there had been reports of strange ocean tides. He smacks his ear with the hearing aid.

“I must be picking up radio waves again.” He grumbles.

An hour later the two bookworms are asleep as Stan still mans the wheel, this time he hears the sound again. His head feels hazy and his body feels warm. He turns the boat towards the sound and begins to follow it.

Ford and her are jostled awake as the ship hits a large wave. They’re both lifted for a second from their seats before landing back down with a thump.

“Stanley what the hell is happening?” Ford is the first to notice the situation. The weather around them is awful. Rain pounds onto the ship, the boat jumps as it passes over enormous waves, going faster than she's ever seen it go. Lighting and thunder crash outside. Stan should have seen the storm coming.

Speaking of Stan. He’s standing at the wheel of the ship, eyes glued forwards, he doesn’t even notice Ford yelling at him. Ford pushes Stan out of the way and he falls to the floor. Suddenly Stan sits up and looks around.

“Where the hell are we?” He asks, hand held to his head.

“We should be asking you that, seeing as you were the one driving the last two hours!” She barks before reaching under the chairs for their life vests. She tosses the boys theirs and secures her own, they quickly buckle theirs as well.

“I don’t, I don’t know what happened.” Stan looks lost for a second. “I can’t remember.”

Her heart hurts for her friend. She knows that must be scary for him but now isn’t the time for comfort. Ford begins to bark orders, she helps Stan to his feet.

They begin securing lines and sails, making sure all objects are secured down so they won’t cause the three of them harm.

Suddenly she hears a noise and freezes. Her head feels hazy and her body feels warm. It seems as if her body is moving on it’s own as she begins to walk towards the door and exits the cabin. A strong hand grabs her arm.

“What are you doing?” Ford screams over the rain. Stan had taken the wheel again.

Her eyes are glazed over and she tries to continue walking towards the railing. Ford begins to drag her back inside but she resits. She freezes and he stops trying to pull her. She turns and points.

“There.”

Ford turns to see what she’s pointing at, and it’s the largest wave he’s seen in his whole life. He quickly wraps his body around her and tries to make it back into the cabin before the wave hits, but he’s not quick enough. The water envelops their bodies and they are thrown against the railing. The ship pops back up over the waves again and Ford looks into her eyes.

She's over the railing, dangling off the ship, her only tether is Ford’s hand.

“Don’t let go! I’ve got you!” He shouts desperately holding onto her and the ship.

Her body is like a rag doll as it’s slammed into the ship with the waves. She looks back up at Ford, eyes still glazed, and lets go of his hand, falling into the inky water below.

The second her body pops back up from water her head clears. Her life jacket inflated when she hit the water. The last thing she remembers was she was on the ship with the boys. A wave overtook her and she pushed back under the water. When she comes back up she realises she hears Ford screaming.

It’s dark and all Ford can see is the automatic light on her life vest getting further and further from them. He’s screaming for her, and for Stan to move the boat in her direction.

She tries to scream for him but is pushed under water again. When her head resurfaces she struggles for a breath before the same thing happens again. Coming back up this time she sees the ship be covered by a wave, then herself. This time when she comes back up she sees the light of the ship are gone. She feels something grab her foot, and is dragged under the water.

Ford feels warmth all around him. His eyes fluttered open and he squints as rays of sun blind his eyes. Waves softly lap and his boots and he quickly sit up as the events that just unfolded flood his mind. He looks around quickly hoping to see his love, or his brother.

Stan isn’t far from him and Ford hops to his feet to run from him. He falls to his knees and sees he’s breathing, Ford begins to shake his brother. “Stanley! Are you alright?”

Stan’s hand comes up to swat his brother away. “Five more minutes.” He mumbles.

Ford doesn't hesitate to slap him across the cheek.

Stan is quick to sit up. “What the hell was that for?”

“Do you not remember what just happened?” Ford barks.

Stan’s eyes grow wide in horror. “She went overboard… Didn’t she?”

Ford slumps forward and his hands cover his face. “I had her, she was in my hands and she… She let go.”

“She let go?” Stan echos in confusion.

“She had the same look in her eyes that you did when we found you steering the ship into the storm.” Ford breathing is quick and ragged, the panic of what’s happened starts to over take him. “I… Oh god, I-,”

“Shut your yap,” Stan commands. “You hear that?”

At first all Ford can hear is the gentle crashing of the waves onto the shore, then he hears it. The distant call of a voice. A very familiar feminine voice.

Ford’s eyes frantically scan the beach both ways looking for the source when he sees her. She must have spotted him at the same time because she begins to sprint towards him. Ford is quick to his feet and meets her halfway. Ford pulls her into a crushingly tight hug as tears fill both of their eyes.

“I thought I had lost you.” He cries into her hair. “I don’t know what I would do if I had.”

“I’m okay. I’m okay.” She sobs. “We’re safe now.” She whimpers against his chest.”

They stay there in each other’s embrace, until Stan slowly walks over to them.

“Glad you’re alright kid.” Stan smiles.

She grabs Stan and pulls him into the hug. He grumbles something but hugs both of them. After a moment they pull back. Ford’s hands are still clutching the back of her wet, sandy shirt. Ford and her look at each other and share a breathy laugh, and begin to wipe the tears away from their eyes.

“Now that we’ve had that lovely reunion, where are we and where’s the ship?” Stan frowns.

“Destroyed, I'd imagine.” Ford clears his throat.

“Actually…” She takes Ford’s hand and begins to lead them down the beach the way she had come. “When I had gone overboard, my mind cleared when I hit the water. I saw the ship get taken over by a wave and thought the worst. Something grabbed my foot and dragged me under, but…”

They round the corner on the beach and see Stan O’ War II, unharmed, anchored off shore. Ford and Stan both notice some splashing around the ship that wasn’t like normal waves. The brothers share a look.

“How is it not damaged?” Ford is in awe of the vessel's perfect condition.

“Turns out, we’ve had a guardian angel this whole trip we didn’t know about.” She smiles.

“Who?” Stan asks.

“Mable.” She laughs as theirs another splash in the water, this time closer to the shore.

The brothers both see the end of a tail then a few seconds later, a head pops up.

“Ford, you might remember what Mable had written in the journal about meeting her friend, Mermando. Turns out she still writes to him and told him about our trip and asked him and his people to look out for us.” She waves over at the head that had popped up signaling to him it was safe.

“It’s the least I can do to repay my friend. If it wasn’t for her then I might still be trapped in Gravity Falls.” Mermando smiles. He had swum over to them as far as he could without leaving the water.

“A real mermaid, huh?” Stan grunts.

“Fascinating.” Ford muses.

“He and a few others were able to pull us to safety after we were lured into the storm.” She tells them.

“Lured?” Ford repeats.

“Yes, unfortunately two of you had been affected by a siren’s song. They’re like merpeople, only they crave violence.” Mermando shakes his head.

“We really can’t thank you enough.” She sighs, giving Ford’s hand a squeeze. “And please, don’t mention this to Mable. I wouldn't want her to worry.”

“She will hear nothing of it. You have my word. Farwell Pines!” And with that, Mermando splashes under the water and is gone.

“Darn it, I should have asked him some questions while I had him here.” Ford brings a hand to his mouth in thought.

She playfully shoves him. “I say we should be happy that we’re alive.”

“You know what I say?” Stan asks and begins stripping his clothes. “I say we have a beach day! Been forever since we were in a warmer climate like this!” He splashes into the water in just his underwear, leaving the other two behind.

“What do you say, my love?” Ford pulls her to his chest.

She wraps her arms around his neck. “Having a nice calm day after almost drowning to death? I think we deserve it.” She plants a soft kiss to his lips before pulling away and begins striping down to her underwear. “Race you to the water.”

Ford doesn’t have to be asked twice before he follows suit removing his clothes.

After hours of relaxing on the beach and playing in the water like children, the sun had begun to set. Stan had made his way back to the boat leaving only her and Ford on the beach.

Ford is laying on his back, her head rests against his shoulder. His arms are tightly wrapped around her. Her fingers absentmindedly trace the knit pattern on his sweater.

“I can’t believe out of anywhere I could be in the world right now, I’m here with you.” She whispers.

He hums and she can feel his chest vibrate under her cheek. She turns her head to look at him. His eyes are closed but there's a smile on his face.

“Are you asleep?” She giggles.

He hummed a sound to tell her no.

She breathes out a laugh and sits up. “Let’s head back before the sun sets all the way.”

He opens his eyes half lidded and smiles at her. She takes his hand and helps him sit up. His hands move to her face to draw her in for a kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

---------- “Alright, there. I think that will work.” She places the tablet down on the table she and her boys are sat at.

“Are you sure you set it up right?” Ford asks.

She rolls her eyes. “I helped build an interdimensional portal. I think I can figure it out.”

“I just wanted to make sure. You remember what happened when you tried to set up our vhs to record Saturday Night Dead.” Ford reminds her.

“That was one time! It’s not my fault the vhs caught fire!” She huffs.

“Can you two stop arguing like an old married for a couple?” Stan groans.

Ford and her share a look and smile. Their attention is pulled away from each other when the tablet begins to make noise.

“Oh, it’s ringing!” She leans forward and presses the green answer button. “Hello? Kids, can you hear us?”

She's greeted with the sound of laughter. “You’re too close to the camera. Move back a little.” She moves back and the screen reveals Dipper and Mable.

“I told you I set it up just fine!” She pats Ford’s chest.

“Kids! It’s good to see you!” Stan greets.

“You guys look so cute in all your boat gear!” Mable squeals.

“Yeah you guys look really cool!” Dipper confirms.

“How has school been going!” Ford asks.

“Great! I got accepted into some senior level classes for next semester.” Dipper cheers.

Mable pushes dipper aside to hog the camera. “And I got a boyfriend!”

Dipper shoves Mabel back to get back in frame. “Yeah, and he’s actually not awful and kinda normal?”

“Congratulations to you both.” She smiles and leans her head against Ford’s shoulder.

They continue to talk and catch up for almost an hour.

“So we can come back to Gravity Falls next summer for sure?” Dipper inquires.

“Absolutely! I've been in contact with Fiddleford and he said we are more than welcome to stay with him in the old Northwest manor.” Ford confirms.

“Soos also said you’re welcome to sleep over at the shack whenever you want.” Stan chimes in.

“I can’t wait to see you two again! You’re really the best great niece and nephew ever.” She comments.

“You’re the best graunt ever!” Dipper and Mabel speak in unison, then begin to giggle and shove each other.

“See you two in a few months!” With that they end the call.

“A month and four weeks, four days, and six hours.” Ford says precisely.

“But who's counting?” She teases.

“And only a month, fours weeks, two days, and four hours until you become my wife.” Ford pulls her close, Stan rolls his eyes and leaves the upper cabin.

“Now that I am counting down to.” She plants a kiss to his cheek. “Mrs.Pines, I love how that sounds.”

“Well then, Mrs. Pines?” He kisses her forehead, then her cheek, then her lips. “Will you do the honor of being mine?”

“I already agreed to marry you, that’s why we’re getting married.” She laughs.

“I know, but I love hearing you say it. I still can’t believe you agreed to marry me.” He jokes. “Will you say it? Say you’ll be mine? Forever and always?”

Her finger came up to trace his jawline and lead his lips to hers. “Forever and always.”

#waiting for you part six #stanford pines x reader #gravity falls reader insert #ford pines x reader #please check my ao3 for all tags and warnings #a kudos and comments would be appreciated too

[lady-literature]

ayy, so ya’ll know that Miraculous/DC crossover I screamed about a while back? I found plot for it.

It is not quite finished yet, but it’s also so much longer than I originally planned on it being. (me: I’ll just write a fun little thing to get this out of my head!

me, 13k words later: oh no)

SO! Here’s a little sneak peak!

(or, find the finished product here!)

***

There is an unspoken rule, kept by any outsider who’s ever set foot in Gotham, that you should only ever visit the city once. Most find that visiting even once was already too much.

The most dangerous city on earth isn’t kind to its residents—much less strangers who don’t know how to watch their pockets or keep off the streets after dark. It’s gotten better, perhaps, in recent years since the Bat started lurking on rooftops, but that doesn’t mean the city is good.

Normal people stay as far from Gotham as they can get.

Marinette, (un)luckily, is far from normal.

***

The touring of Metropolis, New York City, and Gotham had been going well as far as Marinette was concerned, no matter what Chloé says to her about carelessness and naivety.

She’s glad her, Adrien and Chloé all decided to take this summer trip before they started University in the fall. It sucks that it was just the three of them, she wishes more of their friends could’ve tagged along but, alas, it wasn’t meant to be.

Kagami was in the middle of training season and couldn’t come. Luka was touring with his father, learning the tricks of the trade and other things. Nathaniel had already been commissioned to paint a mural downtown before they really finalized dates. Nino was in much the same boat as Nath, just with music and pitch meetings. Felix hated traveling and Alix was doing… something. Time travelling, probably. Or at least spending more time in the burrow.

Marinette was certainly starting to notice the way she’s begun talking about ancient history like she was actually there when she goes on rants now. Felix also probably noticed but Marinette’s also sure that he’s aiding and abetting her in exchange for insider information so…

She’ll probably have to deal with that later, unfortunately. But not today.

Their tour group was going to Amusement Mile later that afternoon, but had been given free roam until then. Marinette decided to spend the time up until lunch at the park near the meetup spot in Gotham Square and Chloé hadn’t complained or vetoed that idea so the trio happily camped out on the grass.

Marinette had returned to her sketch of Lady Gotham in between eating bites of her sandwich. She thinks she much preferred the style of it to New York City’s Lady Liberty. There was just something about the Statue of Justice that inspired her.

She’d been doodling about it since they left the marina yesterday. She also had plenty of pictures of the statue for inspiration later. There’s one she especially likes and thinks she might even print out to put up on her wall at home.

She’s playing with the idea of draping fabrics for formal wear designs like the roman togas both Lady statues seem to wear when a tennis ball rolls up and bumps into her leg. She has only enough time to move her sketchbook out of the way before a large dog bowls into her, tail wagging happily and barking up a storm.

“Oof!”

Adrien’s already halfway up the tree, startled out of his light doze by the barking and Chloé only daintily moved away from Marinette, leaving her to her fate. 

Pushing herself back up so she’s not crushed by what feels like one hundred pounds of dog, she comes face to snout with quite possibly the biggest dog she’s ever seen. From there, there was really only one choice of action Marinette could have followed.

“Oh! Well, aren’t you just the prettiest boy?” she tells the dog happily, reaching up to give him scratches. “Such a big boy! You nearly bowled me over, didn’t you?”

If it’s possible, the dog’s tail begins to wag even faster, enough that he accidentally overbalances himself and decides to roll with it, flopping onto his back and letting her rub his stomach. Marinette does so enthusiastically, her baby-talk to the dog devolving into broken not-words and the occasional exclamation of good boy! in both English and French.

The dog was a great dane, and had the softest coat of black fur she’s ever seen. There was a thick red collar around his throat, and Marinette stopped furiously rubbing his belly long enough to look at the silver tag attached to it.

“Titus, huh?” she says to the dog. “Such a strong name for such a distinguished boy, huh?”

“Oh god,” she hears Adrien groan from his spot still up in the tree. When she looks up, she finds him eyeing Titus with distrust, the absolute kitten. “I hope whoever his owner is, they’ve never read Shakespeare.”

Both her and Chloé blink at the strange non sequitur.

“Uh, why? Exactly?”

“Because they have shit taste in his plays if they do! Titus Andronicus is, like, Shakespeare’s worst play.”

Chloé glares up at him. “You’re such a nerd. Now stop being ridiculous and get down from there.”

“But, Chloé! It’s a dog.”

“Adrien Agreste!”

Marinette tunes out the two blondes as they devolve into sibling-like bickering. It’s a skill she’s had to learn and learn quickly with living in such close quarters with the pair for the last few weeks and also being friends with the pair for the past three years.

“Speaking of your owner, I wonder where they are?” She scratches under Titus’ chin thoughtfully. “Should we go look for them?”

Titus' head flops to the side, almost like he’s listening for something, before he’s clambering up onto his feet to tower over her. He’s almost twice as tall as she is sitting, which is just ridiculous. Why is everything in America so big?

Getting to her feet herself, Titus still stands almost as tall as her. She can rest her elbow on his back when she grabs his collar to make sure he doesn’t run off. He leads mostly, pulling her along at a steady trot she has to jog to keep up with.

He truly was such a well behaved dog and certainly lived up to his breed’s reputation as a gentle giant.

Or at least she thought so, until the call of “Titus! Here!” echoes through the park and he goes racing off towards it, dragging Marinette along for the ride no matter how much she tries to slow down.

Titus comes to a skidding stop, and Marinette barely stops herself from falling by keeping her arm around Titus.

“And who are you?”

Looking up, she finds a young man, probably around her age, staring down at her. He does not look happy—but most Gothamites don’t, Marinette’s found. He’s also, despite the almost glare he’s giving her, very attractive.

When she opens her mouth, incoherent French comes tumbling out, much to her embarrassment.

Ah. ‘Not being able to speak coherently to people she finds attractive’, she had wondered where that particular personality trait had been as of late. Even after so many years hanging around people who should be—and are—super models, she still acts like a spaz. Why is she like this?

The man raises an eyebrow at her, looking very unamused.

She tries again. “Ah- Je suis- I mean, I am very sorry. Your dog found me sitting over there with my friends and I figured I should find his owner instead of letting him just wander around and I assume your his owner because if you aren’t this is very embarrassing for me. Not that it wasn’t embarrassing before but, oh, I’m definitely rambling and I’m going to shut up now.”

Pressing her lips together as tightly as humanly possible so her tongue will stop making horrible life decisions, she holds Titus’ bright yellow tennis ball out to his owner.

The man huffs, taking the ball from her hand. “I didn’t ask for your life’s story.”

Marinette blinks and then frowns. Her hand tightens around where she’s still holding onto Titus’ collar and she has to very carefully unclench her hand before she breaks it or something.

“I didn’t give it,” she says through clenched teeth, embarrassment abruptly forgotten. There’s no need for the man to be rude.

He scoffs. “Could’ve fooled me.”

She doesn't really have anything to say to that. Instead, she turns to Titus, who’s sitting like the good boy he is. She very seriously leans down to eye level—she does not have to lean down far—and tells him, “Your owner is an ass. But you are still a very good boy.”

She plants a kiss to his forehead that makes his tail wag, gives him one last scratch behind the ears and walks back towards her friends without looking back at the rude man. 

***

Colonel Bug: so I met kagami and felix’s lovechild today

MY HONOR: I would never stoop so low.

the evil twin: I would never stoop so low.

ShutUpTurtleMan: Nettie

dearest

the evil twin: Okay first of all-

ShutUpTurtleMan: sunshine

light of our collective lives and reason I breathe

what the fuCK

YoureUnderAgreste: Kagami, my love, how could you?

The Betrayal™

GottaGoFast: ew

Queen of Salt: ew

sneaky snake: Send pics or it didn’t happen

give me art or give me death: [a photo of the ‘right in front of my salad?’ meme]

Queen of Salt: wait

I was with you all day when did this happen?

was it the owner of the dog that attacked you?

ShutUpTurtleMan: WHAT

Colonel Bug: he didn’t attack me!

chloe stop spreading misinformation!

titus was a sweetheart!

YoureUnderAgreste: incorrect

he was, in fact, a menace

give me art or give me death: wait was Titus the dog or the lovechild

ShutUpTurtleMan: ^^^ ?

Colonel Bug: shut up adrien

all animals are great

stop being elitist

give me art or give me death: okay but seriously what kind of dog was it

the evil twin: why exactly was he our lovechild?

GottaGoFast: because of the dramatic tryst you and Kagami had obviously

keep up

Colonel Bug: because he was as pretty as he was rude actually

And gave me the feeling that he’d rant about his honor and parentage if it given the chance

MY HONOR: you say something once as an unsocialized teen

GottaGoFast: MARI YOU DOG!

ARE GETTING TAIL IN GOTHAM OF ALL PLACES?

Colonel Bug: no alix

did you not read the part about how rude he is

YoureUnderAgreste: i mean,,,,,

Felix is pretty rude and we all still like him

ShutUpTurtleMan: and Chloe

YoureUnderAgreste: oh good point nino

Colonel Bug: i hate it here

i spoke to him for like 2 seconds

Queen of Salt: Okay first of all-

YoureUnderAgreste: so i mean it’s not really a dealbreaker yaknow?

Colonel Bug: this familys a nightmare

i shoulda left you all on the street corner where i found you

YoureUnderAgreste: BUT CHA DINDT

ShutUpTurtleMan: but yA DIDNT

GottaGoFast: BUT CHA DIDNT!!

sneaky snake: but ya didn’t

***

I have every no regrets. stay tuned for more!

#my typewriter #miraculous ladybug #batfam #maribat #daminette #mlb #dc #mlb x dc

[writer-k-pop]

Study Dates - Vocal

Description: It’s finals week and you drag them to the library for a study date. Warnings: Swearing Genre: Fluff

Seventeen Masterlist | Masterlists

Jeonghan

You’re just finishing up the first assignment of the day, all-be-it a small one, when Jeonghan shows up (late). Sweatpants and an oversized shirt hangs from his body and drips with his desire to be back in his bed.

“You are going to pay for this.” Jeonghan mumbles and drops his backpack onto the table, causing a few people nearby to look over at the loud noise. 

You give him the sweetest smile and slowly shut your textbook, “But you’re grades are going to call me a god when the week’s over.” You prepare to dive into it because not even his good looks can distract you from your grades goal.

Scoffing and rolling his eyes, Jeonghan unceremoniously drops himself in the chair opposite you. “I highly doubt that.” He says and grudgingly drags his backpack into the empty chair next to him.

You pull out a notebook and opened your laptop to find the practice test your professor graciously gave out. “Take this practice test with me. Come on, you’ll be grateful for it later.”

Jeonghan crosses his arms over his chest and pouts while just starting at me. After a few seconds, he tosses his arms into the air, sits up properly, and then opens his backpack to pull out his school supplies. “Don’t expect me to be super focused like you are.”

You smile in satisfaction that A) you got him out of his bed and B) you got him studying. But he isn’t going to make it easy. He never does. And today is no different.

Halfway through the practice test, he’s drawing doodles in the margins of his notebook and then asks for your opinion on the doodles. 20 minutes later, when you’ve moved onto a different subject, he’s scrolling through his phone. And 15 minutes after that, he’s using his eraser as a hockey puck and his pens as hockey sticks to play a game of hockey that occasionally has the eraser interrupting your studying. Jeonghan giggles when you flick the eraser back at him.

“Come on, let’s just go back to my room.” Jeonghan bargains, resting his chin on the table and looking at you with pouty eyes, “I can lay in bed and you can study at my desk. It’s a win-win!” 

Joshua

“Do we need anything else?” Joshua looks around the table. You’ve set up your laptops, notebooks, pencil cases, and drinks according to your personal studying style, reading for the study session that’s about to commence. 

You shake your head, “Might need sustenance later, but we can deal with that when we get there.”

Joshua nods in agreement before he dives deep into his textbook and you do the same. 

A handful of minutes later, you find yourself mindlessly twirling your pen in your hands and staring at Joshua as he scratches his head and tries to read his professors awful handwriting. He feels your eyes on him and glances at you, catching you red handed.

“Already giving up?” Joshua questions and peers down at your notes.

“Distracted.” You correct with a smirk before lowering your gaze again.

When you both reach the subject you’re in class together for, you decide to quiz each other to find out what you each need to work on. 

“Okay, this one’s tricky.” You peer at the flashcard in your hands before flicking your eyes up at him.

Joshua breathes out in preparation for the “difficult” question and you wait a couple more seconds to show him the flashcard to add to the suspense. 

“Oh, would you just show me the card already.” Joshua whines with a laugh mixed in.

You laugh along and give up on keeping him in suspense. Showing him the card he reads the card, squints and reads the card, then tilts his head to the side and just stares at the flashcard. 

“Do you know it?” You question him.

Joshua puckers his lips and shakes his head, “I have no idea what it is.” 

Woozi/Jihoon

“I’m stealing your highlighter again.” Woozi says, more mumbles, as he reaches across the table for your green highlighter. 

“Uh huh.” You answer without words as you scroll down to another TikTok video. You are taking a break from studying with a well earned 5-minute-turned-into-20-minutes break. 

Woozi rolls the highlighter back over to your side and you decide you should at least try to get some work done on a group project before you completely give up the efforts to study. 

“What’s another word for ‘change’?” You ask Woozi as you proofread another group member’s section of the project.

“Why?” Woozi looks up at you in confusion.

“Because this person used ‘change’ like 600 times and it feels very very redundant.” You explain, “Like I feel like we could make this a drinking game. Something like take a chug every time the word ‘change’ appears.”

“We’d get drunk.” Woozi states the obvious and raises an eyebrow at you.

You point a finger at him with a knowing smile, “Exactly.”

“Oh gosh.” Woozi squeezes his eyes shut and giggles. “You’re already thinking about drinking? Finals week hasn’t even started yet.”

“It feels like it started months ago.” You joke with an eye roll, “I’ve been prepared for the post semester drunkness for AGES.”

Woozi shakes his head and turns the page in his notebook, “Adjust, modify, switch, revise. Uh...” He trails off in thought.

“What?” You ask, wondering why he’s saying random words.

“Synonyms for change.” Woozi reiterates your earlier request. “Oh, differ. And that’s all I got.” 

“Oh, right. Thank you.” You quickly jot down the words in the margin of your notebook. “You still sure we can’t make this a drinking game?”

Dokyeom/Seokmin

The math problem staring up at you without giving you any hints at what the answer could be or how to solve for the answer. It’s like it’s mocking you with its numbers and letters gathered in that one particular spot on the screen. 

“Curse you math.” You grumble and open to a fresh page to restart your attempt at solving the problem. 

“What problem are you on?” Dokyeom asks and leans over the table to peer at your laptop.

“This one.” You turn the screen so he can get a better look. 

“Ooooh, yeahhhhh.” Dokyeom drags out the words as if he’s thinking about how he solved them. Then he pops his lips, “Yeah, I haven’t gotten to that one yet.”

You muffle a chuckle and turn the screen back to face you, “Thanks, Kyeomie.” 

“Did you try starting with the theorem we learned last week?” He offers a suggestion while you busy yourself with the nth attempt of solving it.

“Yeah, I did, but it just led me in a circle over and over again.” You tell him, “Didn’t work.”

“Hmm.” Dokyeom leans his chin in his hand in thought but you pay no attention to him. That is until he clears his throat to force your attention to him.

You flicker your eyes upwards for a second before double taking and a laugh bubbles in your throat. “What-?”

“I’ve got my thinking glasses on.” Dokyeom states seriously with three pairs of glasses sitting on his face. 

“Where’d you get all those anyway?” You ask, laughing at his simple antics.

“One of them is mine, one is Minghao’s that he left in my bag, and the last pair are yours.” He explains and your hands fly to your face. No wonder your eyes were starting to feel tired. You’d been staring at your screen without your blue light glasses on. And now they are on Dokyeom’s face, assisting him in thinking.

Seungkwan

“Pencils?” “Check. Laptop AND chargers?” “Check. Notebooks?” “Check.”

“Fuzzy noise canceling headphones?” Seungkwan lists off the next item and pulls just that out of his bag.

“Fuzzy noi- what?” You look up from your backpack and see the headphones in Seungkwan’s hands. “Why do you need those?”

“It’s finals week, and I need to focus.” He waves the headphones at you, “And since SOMEONE made me come to the library, I need these so I don’t get distracted from the noise.”

You widen your eyes and go back to organizing your study supplies, “Oh-kay.” You definitely didn’t find this weird... at all....

“Judge all you want.” Seungkwan says, a-matter-a-factly, “These babies work wonders.”

You give him a half hearted nod and start your studying. He follows suit and places his earbuds on before settling the fuzzy headphones over his ears. Throughout your study session, friends of yours come up to you two and have small chats. And each time, Seungkwan is forced to take off his fuzzy headphones to be apart of the conversations with his friends.

By the 20th time, Seungkwan is annoyed and you can read the annoyance on his face like it’s a kindergartener’s book. Your friend bids you goodbye before leaving the table side and then Seungkwan lets out a sighed groan.

“How are those headphones working out for you?” You ask, trying to stifle a laugh.

“They’re working fantastic when I have them on. I just wished people would stop coming up to me.” Seungkwan whines, “I mean what part of fuzzy pink noise cancelling headphones says ‘please come talk to me while my head in buried in my notes’?” 

You smirk and joke, “I’m guessing it’s the little eyelids and eyelashes stitched onto them.” You nod towards the sides and his lips twitch in distaste at your joke.

#kpop #kpop imagine #seventeen #seventeen imagine #seventeen jeonghan imagine #jeonghan imagine #seventeen joshua imagine #joshua imagine #seventeen woozi imagine #seventeen jihoon imagine #woozi imagine #jihoon imagine #seventeen dokyeom imagine #seventeen seokmin imagine #dokyeom imagine #seokmin imagine #seventeen seungkwan imagine #seungkwan imagine #writer-k-pop

[sharkbaitsekki]

Emm, dimiclaude idea here, thought I'd throw one out there (don't feel pressured to do it!!) But what if Claude is trying to get Dimitri to chill and says "you're not perfect, just let go and do what you want" and the boi Dima is like "Ok. Ok! I can do this!" and quickly smooches the Claude and mentally Claude's like tHAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT but he's not complaining

“You look way too focused, Dimitri.”

“And perhaps you are not focused enough, Claude.” 

There was nothing new about their exchange, the two of them having had the same discussion in various ways over their study session. When Dimitri looked up from his books this time, Claude was balancing his pencil on his upper lip like a mustache. That, at the very least, was a new trick. 

“What... are you doing?” he deadpanned, watching as Claude wobbled, trying to keep his balance but ultimately failing. The pencil fell from its spot and Claude snatched it through the air, twirling it between his fingers. 

“I’m tired of studying,” he whined in response, leaning his chin in his hand. He tucked his pencil behind his ear like hanging up his weapon on a rack. “We’ve been at this forever.”

“We have been at this for an hour and a half,” Dimitri corrected, unimpressed, “For one hour of which you have been doodling cats on your course notes.”

“I also doodled the Professor and a fish sandwich,” Claude corrected, pointing out the doodles in question, “which, incidentally, I hope we’re not having for lunch today.”

“Claude,” Dimitri chided firmly. “Focus. I did not agree to study with you in order to allow myself a distraction from said studying.”

“And I asked to study with you because you always look too serious and I wanted to loosen you up,” Claude retorted shamelessly, kicking his legs up on top of the table. Dimitri swept them off without missing a beat. “Come on. You’ve really been working hard recently, so you should take a rest.”

“I don’t require rest at the moment,” Dimitri assured him, turning his eyes back down to his papers. “At the moment, I wish to understand the application of this formula in calculating catapult trajectories.”

“I’ll teach it to you,” Claude hummed, jumping off his seat and sauntering over to Dimitri to glance down over the young prince’s back. His lazy eyes sparkled with confidence, which simultaneously comforted and infuriated Dimitri. He made it all seem effortless. “On one condition.”

“What?”

“In return, I just want us to do one thing that you actually wanna do. We could go horseback riding, or go read some novels in the courtyard... doesn’t matter to me. But it has to be something you want to do,” Claude said, leaning on Dimitri’s chair. His knuckles brushed the back of his uniform and even though Dimitri couldn’t feel their warmth through his cape, he felt oddly soothed at the pressure on his back. 

“Studying is something that I want to do,” Dimitri replied, and immediately felt how off the sentence sounded. Claude felt it, too, giving him a lopsided grin that said ‘told you so’ in the most obvious way. 

“I don’t think that’s quite true,” Claude chuckled knowingly. “My guess is that studying is just something you have to do, considering how seriously you take your princely duties. Aren’t I right?”

“I don’t see how that could be a bad thing,” Dimitri insisted, crossing his arms. “I am simply being responsible. My birthright is not one to be taken lightly, after all.”

“Oh boy...” Sighing dramatically, Claude circled Dimitri again and grabbed his chair, dragging it noisily to Dimitri’s desk and plopping down next to him. At this distance, their shoulders brushed when he leaned into Dimitri’s notes. “Okay, let me show you. Maybe you’ll be a little more willing when this is out of the way.”

“I’m not-”

“Pay attention, Your Princeliness!” Claude chided playfully, and then tapped the paper with his pencil. “You have to start by determining the weight of your projectiles. Look.” He immediately began to scribble in the margin of Dimitri’s notes, and the blonde had no choice but to pay attention to him. 

Begrudgingly, he admitted that Claude was an excellent teacher, concise and patient with his explanations and guiding Dimitri into completing the exercise himself. By the time Dimitri figured out the final answer, he felt like he had actually learned how to do things on his own. 

“I’ve finished,” he announced with quiet pride in his voice, scribbling the last parts of the answer down hastily. 

“Hmm.” Claude’s voice was a little too close, and Dimitri realized that he had leaned in until both of their faces were nearly touching over the assignment. Somehow afraid to ruin it, he tried to quiet his breathing. “Well, you got it. Nicely done.”

“Thank you,” Dimitri murmured, not daring talk too loud in this proximity. His face felt hot for some reason, his eyes darting instinctively to follow the peek of Claude’s tongue through his lips when they became too dry. Claude was also looking at him, eyes glinting with something that Dimitri could not discern, and he looked away in embarrassment. “I... I suppose I should continue this series of exercises now.”

“You already got it right. No need to keep going,” Claude assured him, still not pulling away. 

“I must be able to do this on my own,” Dimitri insisted, feeling more and more tense. His heart beat fast, but not like it did in battle. Despite how wired he felt, Dimitri didn’t feel stressed.

“Come on, you’re not perfect.” Claude’s teasing hum vibrated through the air and Dimitri suddenly found himself thinking that he wanted to touch his chest and feel it in his hand. “Dimitri. Just do something you want to do, for once.”

And Dimitri finally felt it, the powerful urge to do just that, to discard expectation and follow his heart into the dark instead. His hands itched and his throat felt tight and he found himself wondering if this sort of anxiety was normal, or simply because of Claude.Claude, whose eyes still hadn’t left Dimitri’s face, still close and contemplative, warm and beckoning and taunting Dimitri to act, to discard his title and his burdens for just one second, just long enough to be himself.

Dimitri kissed him. 

He wasn’t sure what ultimately drove him to do it, but without questioning the urge, he leaned in and pressed his lips to Claude’s, soft, unsure, and brief. He couldn’t see Claude’s expression until he drew back and opened his eyes, stunned to note how wide they’d gotten. 

“Well then,” the other boy stuttered slightly, licking his lips. The action made Dimitri feel strangely hot. “I... wasn’t expecting that.”

“Is that really not what you were waiting for?” Dimitri asked, a whole new brand of anxiety sitting in his stomach. His once serene heart now felt like a storm in the making. “I-I apologize, I am notoriously bad at reading people and it is something I must improve if I hope to-”

“Dimitri.”

He stopped talking, hanging onto Claude’s every word, watching in anticipation as his stunned expression relaxed into something amused, almost fond. 

“Is that really what you wanted to do?” he asked, an easy smile stretching across his face. There was no malice to it, no trickery. Perhaps it was that genuine display that gave Dimitri confidence to continue. 

“Yes,” he answered, not expecting his voice to come out so firm. “It was.”

“Well done, then,” Claude chuckled, amused. “So... can I do something I want, now?”

“Yes,” Dimitri murmured, and even before Claude reached him, he had leaned over to meet him halfway. Their lips met again, easier this time, more instinctively. 

When he tangled his hands in Claude’s hair to draw him closer, deepening the kiss like a man starved for centuries, the pencil perched behind Claude’s ear clattered to the floor noisily. Dimitri didn’t hear it, instead breathlessly drowning in Claude, listening only for the sounds of his pleasure and realizing that this was something he had both wanted and needed for the longest time. 

#dimiclaude #claumitri #im super tired like my eyes are falling shut but i wanted to finish this so pls be lenient #awkard fumbling disaster gay x hopeful but realistic gay caught off guard #bro what if we kissed over the quadratic formula ahaha jk unless... #fire emblem #fe3h #fire emblem three houses #fe three houses #fe claude #fe dimitri #cin's writing

[writer-akihiko]

Chapter 2 - Hanging Out [STARISH]

Chapter 3 →

Otoya Ittoki

You were with ST☆RISH in their studio, coming up with their new song. Masato decided that everyone should take a break, so he, Tokiya and Syo went out to get some food for everyone.

Ren and Cecil had a costume fitting, so they went with Haruka. That left you, Otoya and Natsuki in the studio. Natsuki went ahead and took a nap on one of the couches.

Things between you and Otoya were... awkward to say the least. After completely being frozen on first contact, you didn't strike up any conversation with Otoya.

You decided to relax yourself by fidgeting with your laptop. You played around with one of the downloaded songs you had.

"That sounds great YN-san!" Otoya complimented.

"A-Ah, thanks..."

Otoya then proceeded to sing along.

"Your voice is nice Otoya-san, I'm glad I'm working with you," You complimented back. Internally, you were having a mini panic. I just complimented a guy... Your face turned red at the thought.

"Really?!" Otoya said. "I... was never that confident about how my voice sounded!"

"Trust me, it's great! Better than mine..." You said sheepishly.

Otoya asked, "Do you sing YN-san?" You shook your head. It was one of the reasons you decided to become a DJ anyway. You could make good music, but never have a voice for it.

"Then do you play any instruments YN-san?"

You nodded. "I play the [instrument]."

"Then we can do a duet together! Wait here, I'll get my guitar!" He says. He ran out, and quickly came back with an acoustic guitar.

Since your instrument was in the room as well, you went to it and Otoya struck up a chord. You knew this song. It was one of your compositions. You played along to him.

"I'm sorry about what happened earlier," he confessed.

"Don't be," you said. "I was just extremely shy. It's not a good thing really..."

"Eh? But you were really cute YN-san!"

"Really... Cute..."

Your whole face reddened to the tips of your ears. You stopped and froze like a statue in place.

"Oh no I've done it again!"

"Otoya?" Cecil says as he walks in. "What did youー"

Haruka exclaimed, "YN! Oh no, come back to me!!"

Let's just say that things continued to be awkward between you two.

Masato Hijirikawa

After finally getting a break well-earned from your senpais, you met up with Masato to show him around.

"Hey Prince Charming!" You waved over to him. He came to you with his group of friends.

"So you guys are from Saotome Arts?" You said after introductions. Masato nodded.

"Thank you for showing us around."

"No sweat. Least I could do for beating you in basketball."

A few of his friends snickered at what you said. "Stop that!" Masato says to his friends.

"What do you guys want to see first?" You said. The red-haired boy named Otoya said he wants to meet the football team.

"Sure! They're near the food stalls so we can grab a bite as well," You led them ahead to the wonderful walkway of street food.

His friends went along and left Masato with you to find a bench to sit on. He's a little stiff... you thought. I know how to get him to relax...

Once you two found a table, you went to a friend of yours on the track team. She was handling a yakisoba stall.

"Hey! Mina, add a little kick in it alright?" You reminded her. Mina nodded. You came back to his friends. You took a seat next to Haruka and handed Masato his extra 'kicked up' yakisoba.

"The best yakisoba of this academy!" You said proudly. You watched as he took a bite. He coughed, begging Tokiya for water.

You casually ate yours, pretending that you could handle the spice. "Wanna swap?"

"Please..."

"Okay, glad to see you're not so stiff anymore!" You smiled at him. You could handle your spice, so you were fine.

"You sure have the appetite YN-san," he commented.

"Are you saying something about my weight?!" You mockingly said. You laughed when he made such an apologetic face. "Sorry, you're just fun to tease Prince Charming. Your face gets all red and you just stand there..."

"I-I deny your accusation!" He said.

"You're doing it again! Also, what do you expect? I played at least 3 hours’ worth of game back there. Of course I need some compensation," You said. "Anyway, don't be so stiff! It's a festival after all!"

You left since you needed to go back to the club.

"She's interesting..."

Natsuki Shinomiya

He had come to the café again, but this time he was alone. He brought stacks of books and folders along as well.

You noticed he bought a lot of sugar filled treats today. He had his cell phone close by and was texting whenever he had a puzzled expression.

Since the shop was empty during the evening, you decided to get yourself a warm muffin and sit across from him.

"Natsuki-san?" You said, trying to catch his attention. "Are you okay?"

He continued writing.

"Exam week?"

He nodded.

You were about to leave, thinking it would be better for him to concentrate without you bothering him.

"AHHHH I DON'T UNDERSTAND THIS!!"

"Natsuki-san?"

"YN-senpai, I don't like this! Masa keeps scolding me when I ask for advice! He also talks in a language I don't understand."

"U-Uh... What subject are you learning?"

"Math..."

You pitied the teenage boy. You took a look at his notes. His handwriting... was something. It was quite cute actually.

"I think I can help," You said. You rushed to the apartment you lived with your uncle upstairs and looked through your shelves. You took out a (f/c) translucent folder.

You returned to Natsuki. You handed him the folder.

"What's this?"

"My notes from high school. I didn't have time to clean out my books, so I still have them. You can use them," You explained. "I have no need for them anyway."

"Elizabeth!" He yelled and hugged you.

"Natsuki-san, that's not my name."

"Ah sorry!" He quickly released you and skimmed your notes. "Your little doodles are really cute!"

You blushed at the comment he gave you.

"YOSH! I CAN DO IT!"

"I knew so," You said, applauding him.

You allowed him to study until...

"YN-senpai, I don't know how to solve this question..."

Ren Jinguji

You were navigating through troublesome Tokyo with your cousin. She brought the idol group she is working with since they too had some errands.

Haruka left you and Ren alone since she decided to go to the bathroom.

Ren, curious, decided to play 20 questions with you.

"So fairyー"

"I am not a fairy."

"Sorry, YN-san. So... what's your favourite food?"

"(F/f)."

"Favourite colour?"

"(F/c)."

Ren paused as he was thinking about another question. Unbothered, you asked him one since he was taking a while.

"Is there a purpose asking me all these questions?"

He coughed, "Well, to get to know you better."

"Then may I propose that we do something productive while asking them?"

"What do you suggest?" Ren asked, intrigued by your statement.

"A shogi match." You showed him your portable shogi board.

He led you to a park where there was a bench. You sat on opposite ends, the shogi board in between.

He started to ask the questions again, halfway through the game. "You surprise me, YN-san."

You eliminated one of his kyosha. Placing his piece on your side platform, you commented, "How so? The fact that I captured your kyosha or was it something I said?"

"Something you said," He clarified. "I first thought you were... a tsundere of sorts. But then throughout this trip, I found that you simply speak your mind and are open-minded as well. However, you rarely speak. Even if you do so, it's barely a few words."

You snickered. "You are observant, Jinguji-san," You said, moving your piece. "However, not observant enough."

He glanced at the board.

"Checkmate."

Cecil Aijima

You were at your rehearsal in the auditorium. With your fellow classmates, you were practicing the steps for a dance sequence.

Of course, it was a classical dance. Which you often struggled with. Your senpai ーwho was also your dance partner ー was noticing that you couldn't keep up and asked for a break.

"We'll rehearse again after a 15-minute break. Prepare for the next scene as well," He told the crew.

You plopped on the ground with your head hung low. "I just can't get it right..."

"Hey Goddess YN!" Cecil called to you. He was watching you the whole time. You forgot that tiny detail. You waved back, getting off the stage. You were slightly embarrassed at the nickname as some of your peers stared at him.

"You don't have to call me that Aijima-san," You told him.

He held out his hand to you.

"Huh?"

"Allow me to dance with a goddess," He sweetly said.

"Sure... I guess..." His smooth talking seriously caught you off and you couldn't respond properly.

He then positioned himself in the exact same dance as you were practicing just now.

You were assuming he did not know the steps and began to lead him. Once you had finished half of the steps, Cecil lifted you up and twirled you around.

"Cecil! What are you doing!"

"Hey Leader-san!" Cecil yelled to your senior. "YN can do it!"

"W-Waitー"

Your senpai was speculating the entire scene. "Your friend is actually right... You're actually better at leading! I apologise for never noticing LN-san."

After your break was over, your senior made changes to the dance breaks. Finally when rehearsal was over and everyone had left, Cecil was still hanging around.

"Cecil, I want to thank you for your help today," You bowed to him. "I would've never figured it out..."

"It's nothing really! You can get up ー I was just serving a goddess, that is all!" He said, winking.

You laughed. "You never really stop it with the goddess thing, do you?" You noticed Cecil twirling around the stage.

"Hey Cecil, I can teach you some of the routines in the play. How about it?" His eyes sparkled when you told him. "Really? I can? You're too kind! Your performances are really enchanting to watch!"

You and Cecil spent the entirety of the afternoon learning the dance. Cecil made a few jokes here and there, making you crack up. Soon, it was time for you go. "I have dinner with friends," You told him. "If I ever meet you at the twins' studio, let's hang out!"

"Sure thing..."

You closed the door.

"My goddess..." His voice echoed through the empty auditorium.

Syo Kurusu

You and Syo had grown immensely close after the shooting. Syo admired your hidden strength and you admired his determination. Weeks went by, and you went back to your shrine duties and Syo to his idol work.

You had to admit, more visitors started to come due to ST☆RISH's new release. Oh, the power of fame.

One particular day, you were about to close the shrine and a man in a suit carrying a briefcase walked up to the gate, approaching you.

"Sorry, we don't accept salesmen," You said, about to shut the door.

"Wait!" The man called out. "I'm a TV producer and after ST☆RISH's music video, I hope I can film a short variety show here!"

"What?"

"It's a short promotional show about their new album. This place was recommended by Haruka."

"Nanami?"

"Yes."

You let the businessman in and called for your cousins. As your cousins were discussing regulations with the man, you decided to call Nanami.

"Did you recommend the shrine to Mr. Kagurazaka?"

"Yes. Well, not really... Syo actually said it. I had to say it in place of the group. He said since we filmed here, why not promote here?"

After much discussion with Mr. Kagurazaka, the shrine once again welcomed ST☆RISH.

You were in no contact with Syo most of the recording. You didn't make an appearance in the show as well, for privacy's sake. You did see him once in a while.

You had finished your duties early and decided to get some archery practice in. You weren't a big fan of kendo, so you settled for traditional archery.

"You're really good!"

You yelped in surprise and turned around. Syo was watching you. You prayed that it wouldn't be for the whole time.

"Kurusu-san! You surprised me. Please don’t do that..." You said to him. He was wearing a casual yukata, most likely from just shooting the show.

"I didn't mean to! I mean I didn't want to disturb you, but you were so focused, and I didn't want to bother you, but I still wanted to talk to youー"

You smiled. "I get it. Nice to see you too.”

You two caught up which somehow eventually led to Syo wanting to try out archery. You agreed and took out another set for him.

"Don't shake. Try to steady yourself," You said, straightening his arms.

"Okay."

Syo released the arrow which landed on... a black.

"It's okay Syo! You can try again!"

You stood behind him and adjusted his arms behind him. "I can't see the target since you're taller than me..."

"I'll try my best!" He said. His voice sounded a little nervous.

He shot the arrow. It landed on a red.

"That's a good score!" You congratulated him. "Hey Syo..."

"Hmm?"

"Your face is a little red. Are you okay?"

"Y-Yeah. It's nothing! I should... go now. Masato's gonna kill me so... bye!"

"Um... Bye!"

Well, he's still an odd boy. Nonetheless you still quite liked him.

Tokiya Ichinose

You two walked around the convention and talked about the mangas you have similar interests with.

His other idol friends were dragged around by Natsuki, who wanted to check out the Piyo-chan booth. You pitied the boy in the fedora who was especially victimised.

After a tiring walk around the tables and booths of the convention, Tokiya suggested that you two went outside for some fresh air.

"To be frank, I also wanted to ask your permission for a picture or two..." He sheepishly said. "I didn't ask before since the others were around."

"Ah! Send me a copy of it too!" You said. "I'd like to rest for a bit though. We can take the photo near the fountain outside!"

He nodded in agreement. You two sat near a bench which was close to the other cosplayers who were posing in front of their photographers. Tokiya volunteered to get some drinks. You gave him some cash for your drink.

"Excuse me Miss, can I take a photo of you?" A man asked.

You agreed, thinking nothing of it. From the distance, you saw Tokiya. He was coming closer to the scene. However, when he was right behind the photographer, he snatched the camera away.

"Tokiya-san! What are you doing?!"

"Saving you," He said. He passed you the camera. This man had taken panty shots of you!

The other photographers and cosplayers nearby heard the commotion. 

A camera man spoke up, "Apologise! It's people like you that give us a bad rep!"

"Yeah! Apologise!" A cosplayer shouted. Many joined in asking the harasser to apologise. Before he could, the security had noticed the noise and came over. He took away the man and the camera.

"Thanks," You said. "You really are like an ikemen!"

His cheeks reddened at the nickname.

"Wait!"

You whipped out your pen and notebook. "An ikemen character in the fantasy series. One who doesn't look for trouble and just gets by his own way, with his good looks!"

You scribbled away and Tokiya was confused. "Sorry," You said. "I get too excited when I get inspiration for a story."

"A character... based on me?"

"Yeah! You were really cool back there." You commented. "So how about that picture?"

You two sat near the fountain and posed.

Click!

"Hey Tokiya-san, see you at school!" You waved at him, as you had to go back to your crew.

He waved back.

"Sure thing, my writer," He whispered to himself.

Chapter 3 →

#uta no prince sama #utapri boyfriend scenarios #utapri ren #utapri natsuki #utapri syo #utapri otoya #utapri masato #utapri tokiya #tokiya ichinose #ren jinguji #uta no prince-sama #masato hijirikawa #otoya ittoki #syo kurusu #natuski shinomiya #utapri cecil #cecil aijima

[starlocked01]

Rivals to Soulmates Speedrun

AO3

Masterpost- Previous- Next

Summary: Logan is confident in his ability to compete academically. He's not prepared for the consequences of ignoring his team. Content Warning: Brief swearing, Kissing, one mild nsfw mention

Day 24 Loceit- When you first meet your soulmate you see a vision of the future. Modified so that the vision happens at their first touch.

"Alright I need everyone to focus. I don't know how we managed to get this far but we did and we are not going home empty handed," Logan looked each of his teammates in the eyes. He really did not know what miracle had gotten them all the way to the championship- no wait, yes he did. It was him. The unfortunate truth of attending a small private school meant that getting on the Academic Challenge team was not so much a matter of skill or knowledge, rather it was asking to be on the team.

Logan was used to pulling more than his fair share of the burden anyway. And at least Roman knew theater stuff and Patton- well, Patton was there for moral support.

"Just remember, all answers go through me," Logan stood straight and smiled confidently.

"Whatever you say, Spock," Roman sighed, more interested in his nails than the team captain's speech, "let's get this nerd royale over with."

"Remember to have fun, kiddos," Patton grinned and clapped his teammates on their backs as they made their entrance on stage.

Logan's first thought was to size up the competition. He wasn't intimidated in the slightest but one must know their enemy.

First was a boy who looked like he'd been dragged out of the alleyway and forced on the team. If his monochromatic outfit and terrible posture matched his enthusiasm he wouldn't pose any immediate threat to Logan.

The second boy looked, in a word, deranged. His large grin and wide eyes were out of place among the serious faces of the other competitors. Logan did have to note that the frilly black and green skirt complimented him well. The boy caught Logan’s eye and winked at him. Eugh.

The third, the team captain, was on a different level entirely from his team.  Logan immediately felt utter loathing for that casual smirk. Everything about him just screamed "pretentious asshole who thinks he's smarter than everyone in the room". Logan scoffed at his socially deviant attire, which included a bowler hat and black capelet. Logan adjusted his tie. How ridiculous looking. This boy thought he was a threat to Logan. That misconception would be quickly rectified.

"Welcome to the Academic Challenge District Championship! I'm your host tonight, Thomas Sanders," the man grinned widely at the seven people in the audience, "today's game will be three rounds. Team captains, if you would step forward and shake hands."

Logan stepped forward and met the other captain in the middle of the stage. He offered a yellow-gloved hand to Logan.

"Gloves?"

"You can never be too careful. May the best team win."

Logan grabbed his hand and shook firmly, "we will."

"We'll see," the other captain smirked and turned back to his team with a flourish of his cape.

Logan smirked and pivoted to walk back to Patton and Roman who were already set up at the podium. Both boys looked absolutely bored out of their minds already but Patton at least tried to give Logan a supportive smile.

Logan gave the host a self-confident smirk, "it's game time."

They quickly ran a buzzer check for both teams and started the categories round. The other team seemed pretty evenly matched with Logan and not many points were turned over while toss-ups became a matter of who was faster to the buzzer. By the end of the round Logan had a slight lead and felt very confident.

"Alright! Now it's time for the alphabet round! Today's letter is 'N' and all the answers will start with 'n'. Teams here are your sheets, you have 4 minutes starting… now!" Thomas declared and both teams quickly flipped the list of questions.

"'Musical about the effects of mental illness on a family'," Logan read the first question aloud, "Roman, what's the answer?"

Roman shrugged, "I dunno."

"What do you mean, 'I dunno'?" Logan hissed, "this is your area of expertise!"

"Just because I'm an actor doesn't mean I've seen every show," Roman scoffed, reading down the list of questions to himself, "well I don't know any of this. Try Hamilton."

"It has to start with 'N'!" Logan groaned.

"What about 'Next to Normal'?" Patton didn't look up from his paper where he was drawing.

"Okay fine. What are you doing?"

Patton showed him the doodle, "it's a nectarine for number 17."

Logan looked dumbfounded and scrambled for the last two minutes to answer as many as possible. He glanced over at the other team to find them all talking calmly while the green skirt boy scribbled down the answers.

The buzzer sounded and both teams handed their sheets to Thomas who quickly graded the answers.

"And with that round both teams are tied! It all comes down to the lightning round. To your buzzers everyone!"

Logan only started to mildly panic when the other team got the first three answers. He knew them but couldn't buzz in fast enough.

"Help me out here, guys," he hissed at the others.

Roman rolled his eyes and buzzed in halfway through the next question, "the answer is American Gothic."

"How could you possibly know that?" Logan was furious but turned to give their official answer, "uh Grant Wood."

"No, sorry, Team B?"

The boy in the cape leaned in to the others before responding, "American Gothic."

"Correct!" Thomas replied cheerfully.

"Told you, you're on your own, wonder nerd," Roman sighed and went back to not paying attention.

Logan did his best to keep up but was falling miserably behind.

"Okay last question, where did Descartes claim the human soul resided in the body?" Thomas waited for the buzzer.

"Shit!" Logan dropped his head in shame,then heard the buzzer ring and looked up to see Patton had rang in.

"The pineal gland!" Patton blurted out cheerfully. Logan’s head hit the podium. That was the dumbest-

"Correct! And with that the final score is Team A 350 to Team B 470! Congratulations to Dark Knell High!" Thomas led the scattered applause for the team.

Logan stood, furious, and walked back to the center of the stage where the other captain stood, looking smug as hell and holding the trophy. Logan stuck out his hand for the congratulatory handshake, scowling. The boy made a show of removing his glove before taking Logan’s hand.

Logan’s back against a brick wall with that smug face inches from his. The expression softens and a finger traces his cheek before he leans in to kiss Logan. A cacophony of conflicting emotions screams through his head and settles on "wait, am I gay?" just before he kisses back, anger and humiliation temporarily forgotten in the arms of-

"Janus, my name is Janus. Looks like I'll be seeing you behind the school," Janus winked at a stunned Logan. Logan quickly straightened up and returned to his team.

"What was that about, Specs? You two were standing there for like a minute," Roman looked amused.

"I-" Logan couldn't make himself speak.

"I'm sorry we lost, Lo," Patton smiled apologetically, "they worked really well together as a team. It was going to be hard to beat them."

"No- Patton you did marvelously. I'm sorry for doubting you. And Roman, I'm sorry for not trusting you and not working together as a team. I failed you both," Logan looked down to his feet, ashamed.

"Aw, it's okay, Lo! Maybe we can practice together more before the next tournament and work together next time?" Patton gave him a reassuring smile.

"Assuming I'm even still on the team. Honestly, this sucked. I'm out of here," Roman turned to leave.

"Roman…" Patton chided

"Ugh, fine, yes we'll do better next time," he waved the others off as he left the stage to talk with their advisor.

"He'll come around," Patton grinned, "but seriously were you okay up there?"

"Patton, I think I need to go meet my soulmate. Don't let Dr. Picani leave without me," Logan was distracted by Janus slipping out a back door.

"What?? Okay I'll stall," Patton looked incredibly happy for his friend.

Logan followed Janus out the back door and soon found himself reliving the vision he'd had.

"That was a close game. I wasn't certain we were going to win until your team fell apart," Janus smiled at him, hand still in Logan's hair.

"Well, I didn't expect- you," Logan's mind was whirling.

Janus slipped him a scrap of paper and kissed his cheek before turning back to the door, "call me."

Logan looked at the phone number, "I'm Logan. And I'm sorry you're stuck with me for a soulmate."

"I'm sure we'll make it work. I was quite impressed with your performance today. Until next time, Logan," with that Janus slipped back inside and Logan realized he needed to not miss the bus back home. He sprinted around the school and found Dr. Picani patiently dealing with Patton's antics. He climbed on the bus while their advisor was distracted and collapsed in his seat.

"So where'd you disappear to, L?" Roman asked without looking up from his phone.

"Janus is my soulmate. I saw the vision when we shook hands the second time," Logan confessed.

"Oh my god! Good for you, Lo! Maybe getting laid will make you chill out," Roman smirked, texting his own soulmate.

"Wow, rude. I expected nothing less from you," Logan smirked, fishing his phone out of his backpack and programming the number in his phone before calling Janus.

"Love you, Specs," Roman grinned as Patton and Dr. Picani finally boarded the bus.

"Nice job today team! We didn't win but you gave it your best, which is what counts! Did you all have a good time?" Dr. Picani gave them all a broad grin, genuinely proud despite the loss.

"Logan sure had a good time," Roman snickered.

"I had fun!" Patton beamed.

Logan held the still ringing phone away from his ear, "today was adequate. Thank you, Dr. Picani."

"Great, let's get home," Dr. Picani turned to the bus driver and they started driving back. Logan grinned as Janus finally picked up the phone.

"Hello, Logan."

Tag List: @stoicpanther @ifrickenhatedeverythingaboutthis @idontgiveafuckaboutshit @tsshipmonth2020

#tsshipmonth2020 #Soulmate September 2020 #loceit #logan sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #dr. emile picani #c!thomas sanders #logan centric #soulmate au #high school au #academic challenge #ironically this buzzer beater... was posted late #damn my phone but I figured it out

[ghostgothgeek]

Stuck.

Wasn’t planning on posting anything for DannyMay except I realized one of my WIPs literally has the same title as the theme for today, so here we are. 

2.3k. Rated T for swearing. FFN || AO3

On a list of ways Vlad Masters could spend his day, he certainly never had “get stuck in an elevator with Samantha Manson” on it. 

The day had started like any other; there was a ghost convention in town. Ghost hunters from all over the world came to the infamously haunted Amity Park in hopes of seeing a ghost, but seeing the new inventions from the Fentons (who were a big deal in the ghost hunter realm) and sharing their enthusiasm about ghosts with others would be satisfactory enough. (They really hoped to see a ghost, though.)

Jack and Maddie Fenton had dragged their children to the convention this year, happy they didn’t have to travel halfway across the world and their children could join them this time. They wanted Jazz and Danny to experience what they had dedicated their lives to, and to support the presentation of their newest invention. Jazz naturally brought a thick book with her to read, and a notebook for detailing her people watching (and psychoanalysis of said people). Misery loves company, so Danny managed to convince his friends into coming along and keeping an eye out. If a ghost showed up, he wouldn’t exactly be able to transform into Danny Phantom at a convention filled with ghost hunters and all their new weapons. 

Vlad had shown up to keep up with appearances, and to see what pricey new inventions he could buy for Valerie. Surely, Daniel would know how to handle his parents’ weapons, but not weapons made across seas. Most importantly, though, Vlad had shown up for Maddie Fenton. 

Vlad glanced around at all of the new inventions, paying close attention to the specifications of the weapons in case he encountered any as Plasmius. He checked his watch. Only ten minutes until the Fenton’s presentation. He wouldn’t want to miss out on the opportunity to stare at Maddie for an hour and watch Jack make a fool of himself. Vlad smiled to himself as he pressed the button to call the elevator. Maybe if Jack embarrassed them enough, Maddie would finally come running to him instead. 

Meanwhile, Danny and his friends were walking the convention floor. Tucker was occupied with a game on his phone, as usual. Sam was on a mission to find the most dangerous looking weapon, and Danny was just trying to keep an eye on things. Sam excused herself to go to the restroom before the Fentons’ big presentation, telling Danny and Tucker she would meet them there. Once her bladder was empty and her lipstick was reapplied, she headed for the elevator and tapped her foot impatiently as she waited. 

It finally arrived, and Sam started walking towards the inside until she saw Vlad Masters was already occupying the elevator. She contemplated just walking up the five flights of stairs but decided the elevator would be faster and easier. “Why hello, Samantha,” Vlad slyly greeted. She sighed as she stepped inside and turned her back towards Vlad, ignoring him and pressing the elevator button repeatedly in hopes that it would make the elevator move faster. 

The elevator started moving and Sam switched to chipping some of the black paint off her fingernails when all of the sudden, the elevator stopped. It was way too soon to have gone up five floors already. “Uh oh,” she noted and tried pressing the elevator button again with no success. 

“Oh, look what you did.” Vlad groaned irritatedly and pressed the call button. He waited through several rings before accepting the fact that this convention center was severely understaffed. He would have to remember to do something about that. “Well, it was nice seeing one of Daniel’s young friends, but I’m afraid I can’t stay and chat.”

“Hey! At least have the common courtesy to phase me out, too.” Sam glared at him, seeing he was about ready to ditch her when she added, “Just imagine how grateful Mrs. Fenton would be if you saved one of her son’s friends from imminent boredom.” 

Vlad considered the offer, pursing his lips and deciding it would put him in good faith with the Fenton Family if he helped Daniel’s pathetic goth friend. He completely forgot about the fact that he wouldn’t even be able to tell Maddie exactly how he helped the dark child, but that wasn’t important right now. “Very well,” he grabbed her arm and was about to transform into his ghostly counterpart until he noticed a camera built into the corner of the elevator, with the little red light on signaling it was recording and pointing directly at him. He sighed and let her go. He could try to find a way to find the footage and destroy it, but he couldn’t risk getting caught at a ghost convention, of all things. Not to mention, there was likely a ghost shield up.

Sam followed his gaze when he let go of her arm and sighed, “great.” She slid down the elevator wall to sit on the floor, pulling her phone out and texting Danny in hopes he could find some way to get her out. Vlad pulled his phone out as well, and shut his eyes in annoyance as he discovered it was dead. Sam’s phone pinged and she read the message, sighing in defeat and putting her phone back into her pocket. “Danny said they are aware the elevator is stuck and are waiting for the maintenance guy to come back from his lunch break and fix it. It may be awhile.” She adjusted herself on the floor so she was at least remotely comfortable. It could take ten minutes or it could take two hours for them to be rescued. 

After a few minutes of silence, Vlad smirked and spoke up. “Well, since you’re here and are forced to listen, how about we discuss how you can convince Daniel to be on my side and-” 

Sam cut him off and stood up. “You’ve got to be shitting me. Danny will never want to join you! He thinks you’re creepy, which you are. I mean, you want to marry his mom and have him be your child? That’s weird. You’re a grown-ass man, you need to get over this shit already. Mrs. Fenton won’t leave her husband, especially for you. You are a moron to think otherwise.” 

Vlad stared at the girl wide-eyed for a moment before opening his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it. 

“Honestly, you’re so pathetic. You hurt and fight with Danny, who is old enough to be your child. Do you really have nothing better to do with your life? Don’t you have anyone else your own age to pick on? Because fixating on a child is just gross. And, you can’t even fight him yourself! No, you choose another child to do it for you. Lame.” She rolled her eyes at him. 

Vlad didn’t know what to say. He was shocked into oblivion. 

“Really, you don’t have anything better to do with your time or money? Do you know how much good you could do if you donated money to charities and organizations benefiting the environment? Instead, you choose to dress up like a vampire and be an asshole. Like Mrs. Fenton or any woman would fall for a guy like that. Plus, your whole vampire look? It’s so corny. Believe me, I’ve seen my fair share of vampire movies and read up enough to know they wouldn’t dress so stupidly. A cape? Really? Are you seven?” 

“I-”

“You really need some hobbies. I mean, what have you even done with your life since you got ghost powers, aside from preying on and manipulating children and trying to grossly seduce a married woman who has zero interest in you? Seriously, get a life. Also, please actually stop with the whole vampire thing, you’re ruining it for me.” She sat down once again and smirked at Vlad’s agape mouth. She had the opportunity, she was going to take it.

“I mean, you aren’t terrifying or gruesome at all,” she continued, “you’re half dead and you aren’t even scary or even vaguely threatening. I’m sure more people are afraid of me than they are of you. I honestly don’t see why some of the ghosts in the Ghost Zone tolerate you; they certainly don’t respect you.” Sam picked at a scab on her arm.

“But...I’m scary! People respect me!” Vlad interjected. 

“People only pretend to respect you because you’re the mayor, and you only won that by cheating. And ghosts don’t give two shits about you, the ghost who released Pariah Dark then fled at any hint of a challenge. Danny had to clean up your mess. Honestly, so pathetic.” Sam shook her head and watched as she flicked her scab across to Vlad, who flinched, and watched fresh blood rise to the injury. “And you are far from scary. My mom is more terrifying. And she’s a small woman who wears pink. Seriously, people see her coming and they move in the opposite direction. Oh gross, I guess that’s one thing I have in common with my mom…” She trailed off and made a face.

“I’ll have you know, Vlad Masters is well respected in the state of Wisconsin and Plasmius is feared in the ghost zone!” 

“Survey says...no.” Sam whipped out her pocket knife from her boot and started carving some doodle into the floor. Vlad stared at the girl with wide eyes. What kind of fourteen-year-old girl carries a knife around to doodle?! “Danny beats you all the time and he’s younger than you. You’ve even been half ghost longer! Danny is less experienced and he still whoops your ass, seriously why are you so cocky?” She pointed the knife at him and he grimaced. “You’re just a pathetic little man-child who throws tantrums when he can’t get what he wants,” she rolled her eyes and finished with a “seriously go fuck yourself”. 

Danny was pacing by the elevator door. It’s been 45 minutes and there’s no telling what Vlad could be doing to Sam in an enclosed space! She didn’t even have many weapons on her. He knows she’s tough and can hold her own but still! Vlad had been looking for every opportunity to get back at Danny, and holding Sam as a hostage would be a very good way of doing so.

“Come on, man he wouldn’t be stupid enough to pull something at a ghost convention,” Tucker started confidently, “er...right?” 

Danny groaned, “I don’t know! I wouldn’t put it past him. God, if he hurts her, I swear-” 

“I got it!” Some random maintenance guy pried open the elevator doors with a crowbar and stuck his arm inside to assist.

“Finally!” Danny ran over to the elevator and breathed a sigh of relief when he heard Sam scolding the man for touching her. At least she was alive. 

The man quickly backed away and Sam popped her head out of the elevator, which was stuck between floors. “Hey Danny, hold this for a sec,” she tossed him her switchblade, which he fumbled in his hands and miraculously caught without stabbing himself or anyone else, as she climbed out of the elevator. She grabbed her knife and stored it back in her boot. 

“Did he hurt you? Are you hurt? Tell me what he did I’ll-” 

Sam ignored Danny’s questioning and she glared at the maintenance guy who was backing away slowly from her. “‘I got it’ my ass,” she mocked the man, “the only way you were even able to get a crowbar in the gap is because I made you one with my knife.” 

“SAM!” Danny started shaking her, “are you okay?!” He looked at her arm where it was lightly bleeding. “You’re bleeding!”

“Stop. SHAKING. ME!” Sam shook him back until he cut it out. “I’m fine, this is from the other day with the Box Ghost. Vlad didn’t touch me.” 

“Speaking of Vlad, is he still in there?” Tucker glanced back at the elevator. 

After a few moments, out came Vlad Masters, looking as pale as a...well, you know. He was visibly shaken and looked quite disturbed. Once his feet were on solid ground, he took a deep breath and composed himself. When his eyes caught the lavender ones of the goth, he flinched. Sam smirked, while Danny and Tucker each raised an eyebrow. 

“Are you alright, Mayor Masters?” 

“God, Sam, what did you do to him?” Tucker quipped. 

“Nothing! We just had a nice little chat is all…” Sam crossed her arms over her chest. 

“I’m perfectly fine! I kept the child calm while-” Vlad tried explaining himself but with one look at Sam and one look at him, it was pretty clear who was shaken up about the whole thing. She cocked an eyebrow at him, as if to say “try me”. “I, uh, I’m fine. I gotta get going, lots of things to do…goodbye, Daniel. Daniel’s friend...Miss Manson, I’m so glad we came to an understanding-” 

Sam lunged for him and he ran in the opposite direction. Danny gently held her back with one of his arms, “jeeze Sam, and to think I was worried about you in there.” He chuckled.

“You were worried about me?” Sam challenged. 

Danny blushed, “I mean...we both, Tucker and I, worried, you know.” 

Tucker laughed as Danny babbled, “Okay, but really, Sam. What did you do to him? He looks like he’s going to throw up!” 

“Or shit his pants…” Danny added. 

“Or cry…” Tucker continued. 

“Funny,” she said sarcastically. Sam shrugged, “I just talked to him, gave him some of my Sam Manson charm.” 

“Oh god.”

“Poor guy.”

#AKA Sam just roasts tf out of Vlad #also you can pry the 'AU where Sam carries a knife at all times' from my cold dead hands #Sam Manson #Vlad Masters #Danny Fenton #Tucker Foley #Danny Phantom #Stephanie writes sometimes #DannyMay #DannyMay2020 #am I doing this right idk

[greasykookietree98]

Worth the Wait | bbh

Pairing: ceo!Baekhyun x chef!OC (named)

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, Baekhyun being the cringey dad we know he’ll become one day; also some slight angst if you squint real hard

Word Count: 7,5K

Synopsis: It was a calm Sunday afternoon in the Byun household, before Baekhyun got all sentimental again.

A/N: So after years of not writing shit and deleting all my old, cringey work, here I am, back with a fresh, new, cringey work. Consider it my “Hey! I’m back! Happy Valentine’s or whatever!” gift. Hopefully 5 years of English at a university helped me somewhat – constructive criticism is well appreciated!

  “Dad, why do you keep calling noona a monkey?” the toddler inquired, sparkling eyes wide, munching on his favorite banana chips, while comfortably sitting on his father’s lap. Baekhyun brought a hand up to ruffle his son’s soft hair, earning a soft giggle from the 3-year-old. The house was peaceful this Sunday afternoon, almost idyllic even. Jaehyun was paying attention to his favorite cartoon while cuddling his father. Mina sat on the carpet in front of the couch, doodling mindlessly to her newest glittery notebook, occasionally taking a sip from her juice box. From the kitchen he could hear the clanking of dishes, the contact of knives and wooden cutting boards, a sure indicator that Mirae was working on something delicious.

  Upon Jae’s question, Mina put her crayon down and turned with her entire body towards the two Byuns, her lips slowly forming into a pout. “Yeah Dad, why do you call me a monkey, but not Jaehyunnie?”

  “Well princess, it all has to do with the time your mom and I started dating. Story time?” Baekhyun patted the couch next to his free leg, signaling for the 10-year-old to sit and cuddle him as well. With both kids in his arms, his smile widened as he fondly remembered the very beginning of his happy family.

  “It’s so useless, Chae. He won’t want a second date after he finds out. Why put in all the effort?” Mirae sighed, defeated almost, as she threw the black dress on top of the pile of rejects on her bed. She was really getting tired of this whole procedure – getting all dolled up for a man, just for him to zoom out the moment she spoke out about her life, leaving her empty, unwanted, hopeless until her best friend came up with another potential date. Rinse and repeat. See, the problem didn’t inherently lie with Mirae. She was 28, lead a healthy lifestyle with a decent diet and regular workouts. She had a steady job, one she was actually enjoying, one she could be proud of – not everyone from her culinary classes ended up as chefs in top restaurants. She had an at least okay personality, she liked to think at least. All her previous first dates seemed eager to get her on a second date, until her worst (best?) trait came to play. Honesty. She couldn’t leave a date without spilling the truth about her little secret. The little secret weighed 16 kgs, liked to have her chocolate brown hair in pigtails and couldn’t go a day without her Tigger plushie. Her little secret was Shin Mina, her daughter from a previous relationship.

  It always ended the same way. The men usually let her down slowly. Kind smiles, small promises of ‘see you soon’ before never texting her again. There were some, of course, who were appealed that she did not have this information readily available from the first second, did not have it plastered on her forehead – or her cleavage, for easier visibility for that matter. These men got angry that they wasted precious time and money on a women who already gave birth to someone else’s spawn – their words, not hers. She tried to react the same way to all of them. A small apology, a gentle smile and a tiny goodbye. She then entered her small apartment, went straight to Mina’s room to check on her sleeping daughter, pressing a soft kiss on her cheek before going out to the living room. The living room where her best friend, frequent babysitter and constant matchmaker, Chaeyon waited for her with tissues, ice cream and warm hugs. It always ended the same way.

  “Well for a start, this guy actually had the guts to ask you out – in person! Not on a dating app, not with some horrible pickup line, what if he’s really different?” Chae reasoned enthusiastically, throwing another dress Mirae’s way. It was rich coming from her, considering she was the one running Mirae’s dating app accounts, “filtering out” candidates before setting dates up for her. But she had a point. This guy, Byun Baekhyun, really was different. Never had a customer in the restaurant she worked at complimented her cooking while also noting her lack of wedding ring and asking smoothly for her number. Never had a man asked her every hour or two whether she was having a good day and if she remembered to drink enough water – even before their first date. Baekhyun was a natural charmer, which could’ve made everything easier. Instead, Mirae felt it would just be an even bigger disappointment when he deleted her number from his contacts with disgust in his eyes.

  Because let’s face it, Baekhyun was perfect. Fit, handsome, easygoing, yes. He was the CEO of his own company, Privé, one of the region’s hottest fashion and skin-care brands. If she were to go by the loud laughs of the friends he was dining with, he seemed fun to be around and for some reason she got the impression he would be amazing with kids. With his own kinds, preferably, she added. Cause why would a man of his caliber want to have to do anything with someone else’s child?

  “I can’t build my daughter’s future on what-ifs, Chae… I’m sure it’s not good for Minnie either. Seeing her mom go away for nights and seeing her all sad the next morning. I think I should just stop. Mina’s enough for me, I will always have her and she will always have me. Yeah, I don’t need a man to live a happy life!” She started rambling as she suddenly got up from her bed.

  “Okay, okay, calm down, fighter. You’re not wrong, you’re independent, you’re strong, you don’t need anyone. I’m also sure Mina is more than content to just have you and no one else. But! Mommy needs a little love sometimes, too.” Chaeyon winked, earning a slap on her upper arm from her friend. “Seriously, don’t leave Baekhyun hanging. Just this one last time, give this whole ordeal a chance. If it doesn’t work out with him, either, I promise to delete your dating profiles and not set up you with anyone, ever.” She promised, a hand rising to his chest.

  “I’d really appreciate that, Chae. I really appreciate you. Thank you for everything you do for me, for us.” Mirae pulled her best friend into a bone crashing hug, then grabbed the silky dress from her hands and went into her bathroom to get ready for her last date ever, potentially.

    Baekhyun waited anxiously in front of the restaurant. Wasn’t this too cliché? Bringing a chef to a restaurant for their first date? He scolded himself for listening to Jongdae’s advice – “You can get to know her the best this way, also, a way to anyone’s heart is through their stomachs”. Sure, Jongdae already had a family, so his advice should’ve sounded legit. Well, she didn’t seem to protest, even let him pick the location. She didn’t let him pick her up, tho, insisting that she can just take a taxi.

  Honestly, Baekhyun was never one to ask someone out so openly. Sure, he knew how to use his charms and words to his advantage, as it was how he fought his way to the top of his field, but flirting never came to him so naturally. What was he even thinking? Sure, his friends wanted to compliment the chef personally, a practice he always found cringeworthy, but the moment he saw her, all common sense was thrown out the wall-to-wall window of the five-star establishment. She gave him the time of day though, so he must’ve done something right.

  Just as he lifted the bouquet of yellow tulips to his nose – for one last closer inspection, he told himself -, a car stopped in front of his black Audi. If he didn’t know any better, he would say it was an angel emerging from the taxi – in his mind, he wasn’t too far off, it was her. Thanking the driver one last time, Mirae fixed the strap of her black bag on her shoulder, scanning her surroundings carefully before meeting Baekhyun’s gaze. Her lips perked up into a small smile, and she made her way quickly towards him, him doing the same so they could meet halfway. Shy greetings were exchanged before Baekhyun handed her the bouquet. He blushed slightly, thankfully hidden in the darkness of the night.

  The date was – for a lack of a better word – exceptional. While Mirae was completely ready to listen to endless hours of boring business talk from the young CEO, Baekhyun seemed a lot more interested in getting to know her than most of her recent dates. He asked about her childhood dreams, her deepest fears and most memorable trips and told her about himself in return. The conversation was balanced and Baekhyun was not opposed to taking her recommendations in consideration when it came to choosing appetizers, wine or dessert. Dessert! She couldn’t even remember the last time she and her date stayed until dessert. However, the closer the end of the date seemed, the more tense she got. It was soon time to tell him. It was soon all come crashing down again.

  “Let me drive you home” Baekhyun spoke up, breaking her out of her momentary haze. Seeing as he was just putting away his credit card, it was clear he has paid for everything already.

  “Did you really pay for all of this? Let me pay half of it” She protested, not even reacting to his initial proposition. A smile creeped up on his face upon seeing her surprise. Gosh, did he wanted to surprise her more in the future.

  “Maybe I’ll let you pay on our second date” He mentioned while helping her put on her coat. “If you’ll want to meet me again, that is.” He added, a glimmer of hope etched into his voice.

  It won’t depend on me, honestly, she wanted to add, but chose to just smile at him kindly. They exited the restaurant and Baekhyun didn’t need to do much convincing to let him take her home. She could enjoy these last few minutes with him; and it would be easier to just walk up to her apartment with her heart broken once more.

  The car round was silent on her part. Baekhyun played music on a low volume, but tried to upkeep small conversation. He could sense that something was off. He couldn’t have imagined this spark between them back in the restaurant. He could swear her smiles and laughs were genuine and she truthfully seemed interested in him. Byun Baekhyun, the 29-year-old human, not Byun Baekhyun, the CEO, the ATM on two legs. Did he say something? Was she offended that he paid the bill?

  “Hey, is everything alright?” He questioned after parking the car right in front of the address she gave him. “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable. If I did, I’m terribly sorry.”

  “No, no, that’s not it-“ Mirae took a deep breath and unbuckled her seatbelt. Turning towards him, she inhaled deeply once more. “I really enjoyed everything today. I can’t even begin to tell you, how much. You’re wonderful, so I think you deserve full honesty from me.” She fumbled with her fingers, voice suddenly small. “This is the part where all of them change their mind, so don’t feel bad at all, I understand.” Baekhyun would’ve lied if he said her words didn’t concern him. What was she talking about? After another deep inhale, she looked up, deep into his eyes. “I have a daughter, 4 years old, from a previous relationship.”

  “Okay, and?” was Baekhyun’s immediate response. He was honestly expecting something truly terrible, jarring, something a lot worse.

  “And? You’re not – I don’t know – mad? Disappointed? You don’t want to kick me out of your car as soon as possible?” She queried, absolutely puzzled by his reaction. “You really don’t have to act nice, I sincerely understand if you never want to see me again.”

  “I feel like you’ve had some pretty big assholes bring you on a date before, hm?” He gave her a lopsided smile. “If anything, I admire you even more. You’re a single mother, you work a tiring job and still make time for hopeless men like myself. But I think this is a bigger topic, something we could discuss on our second date. What do you say?” He leaned over to her, pressing a small kiss on her cheek. Her exes grew twice their size – because of his words or the small peck, she wasn’t sure.

  “I-… You really won’t stand me up, right? Because if you’re planning to do that, just do it now. It would be easier for both of us.”

  “Hey, I promise, this is not me pushing you away with an empty promise to never call you again. This is me, wanting to hear you full story, in a place and time you’re comfortable in. I don’t think my car’s the most ideal. How about this? Give me your phone?” She was so dazed, she put her phone in his palm without question. “This is my address. Which night are you free this week? Our second date can be at my place, I can cook us something, we can eat and watch a movie, and when you’re comfortable, you can tell me everything about her.” He gave back the device, sure enough with an address typed into her notes.

  “I could make my Wednesday night free, if that works.” She answered shyly. The inside of the car was getting hotter with every second. Or was it just her? Was it because this man could not be real?

  “Perfect, it’s a date then. Want me to pick you up or do you just want to drop by at 7?”

    “Chae, you don’t understand, he’s perfect.”

  This night, tissues were not spared. Ice cream was eaten, but not in sorrow. Mirae felt like she was floating on cloud 9. Maybe she was. Maybe it was all a dream – it sure seemed to good to be true.

  “Oh, is he now, Miss I Don’t Need A Man?” Her friend teased smugly. Oh, she was never gonna live this down.

  “No, really, I still can’t believe he wants a second date. What if it actually works out?”

  “Oh, we’re building on what-ifs now, Drama Queen?”

  “Shut up!”

    “Mommy, you look really pretty!” Mina exclaimed excitedly as soon as her mother exited her bedroom in her light jeans and blush colored blouse. She felt a lot more relaxed than in last week’s beautiful but restricting dress. “and happy, too!”

  “Thank you, sweetie” she cooed before she swept the little human in her arms. “Do you promise to behave for eonnie while mommy’s not home, like you always do?”

  “Of course, mommy!” She clapped her tiny hands together, right before leaning in and leaving a big smooch on her mom’s cheek. “Who are you meeting, mommy?”

  “I’m just visiting a friend I met this weekend, honey. I might be home late, so go to sleep with Chaeyon eonnie, okay?”

  After making sure Chae had all necessities at hand to deal with her little princess, Mirae put on her boots and coat, kissing her daughter one last time before exiting the apartment. This time, she decided to drive to Baekhyun’s instead of calling a taxi. She was a bit early, as she liked to be, when she parked in front of the simple family house in Gangnam. Was it really where Baekhyun lived? Wasn’t he living alone? Before she could question herself any longer, Baekhyun’s tuft of chocolate hair appeared at the front door, cheerfully waving towards her car. Quickly exiting and locking the vehicle, she hurried to the door with a bottle of wine in her hand.

  Baekhyun really outdid himself with the preparation. The table was set nicely for the two of them, and from the dining room she could see the living room couch decorated with soft looking pillows and blankets. While he was opening the wine bottle, she took a good look at the table full of side dishes and delicious food. Baekhyun’s soft voice, only slightly above a whisper, snapped her out of her thoughts. “I realize this is now the second date I took a chef on a date where she had to eat food probably worse than she can make at home, but I hope you don’t mind too much.”

  “And this is the second date I’m wearing my own clothes instead of the ones you designed, yet you don’t seem too bothered about it either” she joked lightly, hoping to ease his nerves – and simultaneously her own, too. A genuine smile appeared on Baekhyun’s face before his chuckle filled the whole room.

  Once they sat down and started eating they easily fell into conversation. How their week went so far, the plans they had for the rest of it. It was so easy talking to each other, almost like they’d known each other for far longer than the week they actually had. And just like before, Mirae could feel the heavy topic of her private life creeping up on her. As if reading her mind, Baekhyun spoke up, wine glass in one hand. “You know, you don’t have to tell me anything you’re not comfortable with. But I’d really like to know about your story, your daughter.” And yet again, with only a few words he managed to put her mind at ease, as if it was the easiest thing on Earth to tell him everything. He suggested moving to the couch, leaving the empty dishes on the table. He started clicking buttons on the remote of the TV, a seemingly endless list of movies appearing on screen shortly after. While he was reading through the titles, Mirae made herself comfortable between the pillows and blankets. “Have you seen Enola Holmes? I never got around to watching it.”

  “I haven’t either, we can watch that” she replied, smiling at him when she realized he turned his whole body towards her when he asked for her opinion. After starting the movie, he also made his way to the couch, sitting down a bit further away from her than he would’ve originally liked to, but he didn’t want to invade her personal space. Not yet, at least. He grabbed a pillow and put it in his lap, pulling his legs up on the couch so that his body was turned towards her. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, her body also turned towards him, her lips curling into a nervous smile. “Mina’s 4 years old. She’s going to kindergarten now and she absolutely loves it. She only made two friends, but she plays with them all the time and I’m really happy she could fit in. I was really worried, her not having a father when all her peers are picked up by theirs almost every day. She still sees him once every month, but I don’t think she enjoys spending time with him.”

  “Oh, so he’s dad is around?” slipped out of Baekhyun’s mouth before he could think it through. Eyes widening in panic he tried saving the situation. “I mean, that’s good, right? Or is it? I’m sorry, I don’t even know what I’m saying” his rambling earned him a hearty chuckle and a small smile.

  “Yeah, I’m happy that he finally came around and wanted to see his daughter. I mean, I wasn’t expecting much when he left with another girl only a week after I told him I was pregnant” she mentioned bitterly. It was a hard topic, not something she could take lightly, but it was her kneejerk reaction to stress. They continued like this, Mirae talking about her horrible experiences, white slight jokes sprinkled into the stories and Baekhyun reassuring her for the best of his abilities. Honestly, he could’ve easily gone out and beat the guy to a pulp for what he has done to her and her daughter. He knew better though, he knew she was fully capable of dealing with that jerk as much as she needed to, but he just couldn’t help this overwhelming urge to protect her at all costs. He was sure once he met Mina, he would feel the same about the little girl, too.

  “Do you want to see some pictures of her?” she asked shyly, and Baekhyun accepted within a fraction of a second. She scooted closer to him on the couch, his legs returning to the ground to give her space beside him. With her phone in hand she opened her gallery, full of pictures of food and a little girl. With every picture she showed came a small story – it started raining when we were in the park, she loves puddles, so she immediately jumped into one and she wanted to dress as Remy from Ratatouille, but we decided to stick with Colette in the end. With every little piece she revealed of herself, Baekhyun’s arms inched closer and closer, to the point where it was no going back from hooking his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. While caught off guard, she didn’t seem to dislike his close proximity. The movie still played in the background, but neither of them knew what the story was about. She put her phone away after a while, cuddling into his side and leaning her head on his shoulder. It all just felt right. With her previous dates, Mirae was always cautious about skinship and touching, but with Baekhyun it all seemed to come naturally.

  Once the end credits started rolling, Netflix already recommending the next movie to watch, Baekhyun reluctantly left his comfortable cocoon, and with that, her embrace, to turn the streaming service off. Mirae was almost dozing off underneath the warm blankets, and he hadn’t the heart to disturb her peace. When he started walking towards the dining area, all intentions of cleaning up, she also rose from the couch, following him with a smile plastered on her face. “Need help?”

  “You’re the guest, no work for you here” he answered softly, pestering a small kiss on the top of her head. His gesture made her cheeks heat up, momentarily speechless as he started cleaning up the aftermath of their dinner. With him refusing her help, she sat down on a chair next to the dining table, watching him move around the space smoothly. “There’s a carnival just outside the city, do you think Mina would enjoy it?” A kitchen towel was flung across his shoulder, dirty plates in one hand, empty wine glasses in the other. The implications of his question were deeper than she was prepared for. She honestly hasn’t thought much about introducing anyone to Mina lately, since she didn’t have any worthy candidates. Baekhyun, however, was different. She had no doubt Mina would warm up to him easily, he seemed to have that effect on anyone he wanted to. Wouldn’t it be too soon though? How long should she wait? These times, she really wished there was a guidebook to dating as a single parent, telling her exactly what was right and what wasn’t. But there wasn’t, and she decided then and there: she would give Baekhyun a chance.

    “Mommy, can I bring Tigger to the carni-war?” Mina asked excitedly, jumping around the living room with her favorite plushie in her hand.

  “It’s called a carnival, honey” she corrected her, pulling down her fluffy baby blue sweater to make sure she was properly covered in the chilly autumn morning. “And I think it’s best if Tigger stays home today. What if we lose him? He’ll wait for you to come home, right here” she placed the toy on the couch, sitting up. “Now go grab your bag, sweetie, Baekhyun will be here soon.”

  She didn’t even need to finish her sentence, her child was already running down the corridor, towards her room. Last night they had the big talk. Mommy’s friend, Baekhyun was coming over and taking them to the carnival. Mommy’s friend, Baekhyun is really nice and she doesn’t need to be afraid of him. Mommy’s friend, Baekhyun is really excited to meet her, so she should behave. Mommy really likes her friend, Baekhyun, just like in the movies, so she needs private agent Mina’s help to determine if he really is a good man. She hoped being a girl on a mission would ease Mina’s mind enough to not be too nervous around Baekhyun. She wasn’t particularly afraid of strangers, but she tended to be shy. Mirae was also afraid she would associate spending time with a grown man to spending time with her father, which she always threw a fuss about. She always said her dad was boring, that they just watched cartoons and ate fast food when she was at his place. Mirae scolded him every time for this, but things never changed. Just as Mina arrived at her feet, Hello Kitty backpack on her shoulders, there was a knock on the door. “Woo, he’s here!” the toddler exclaimed and Mirae couldn’t help but chuckle as she went to open the door. There he stood, dressed in his own streetwear, eyes shining, grin wide, with a bouquet of yellow tulips in his hand. After letting him in and thanking him she excused herself to the kitchen to search for a vase. When she came back, to her biggest surprise, Baekhyun was crouching in front of Mina, handing her a very small bouquet of various colorful flowers.

  “Shin Mina, what do we say?” She scolded playfully, arms crossed in front of her chest.

  “Thank you!” She bounced happily, running towards her mother with the flowers in her hand. “Mommy, look”

  “It’s really pretty, sweetie” Mirae picked her up, the little girl already too heavy for her to carry for longer periods. “Let’s find a glass you can put them in so they don’t get sad.”

  After putting their flowers in water, the two girls returned to the smiling CEO, Mina still having an excited bounce in her step. They were soon leaving the apartment, Baekhyun carrying Mina’s car seat to install in his car before letting Mirae strap her in the proper way. The drive to the carnival wasn’t too long, especially since Mina for some reason couldn’t keep her mouth shut. She kept telling stories to Baekhyun and asking him questions he never thought he would have to be ready for – Baekhyunnie do you think the sky is so blue because there’s so much water in it? Baekhyunnie why is unhealthy food so delicious and healthy food so- so- broccoli!. Mirae heavily enjoyed how flustered he got when trying to answer her nonsensical queries, trying his hardest to please the toddler with his answer.

  Saying that Mina went wild at the carnival would be a big understatement. Colorful rides, delicious smelling treats at every corner, it’s safe to say she was nearly overwhelmed with excitement. She wanted to sit on every ride, eat a sample of all the food and never rest. Mirae also learned a lot about Baekhyun on that date. Like when they were buying sandwiches and Mina offered him a bite of her own, Baekhyun almost accepting before realizing with disgust written all across his features that it had cucumbers in it. Or when you were on top of the ferris wheel and he let it slip how utterly terrified he was of heights, only to let Mina drag you two into the line for the rollercoasters. The fact that he was trying tens of times harder to make sure Mina was enjoying her day than her own father ever did really warmed Mirae’s heart. That’s why when the end of the day approached and Baekhyun dropped them off she didn’t refuse the idea of a fourth date, and didn’t hesitate to lean up and seal their goodbye with a kiss.

  From then on, Baekhyun was an engraved part of the Shins life. He would bring Mirae on dates every week, each of them drawing them closer to each other, and every week he would come over and spend a day with her and Mina. Sometimes they went out and did some outdoors activities – hiking was Mina’s favorite -, sometimes they just stayed inside and had fun with games and movies. That’s why Baekhyun’s revelation came as a shocking surprise after three months of officially being a couple.

  He hadn’t finished his military service yet, meaning he would have to enlist within the next 6 months. Enlist, for 20 months. He was terrified to tell her this. He was too focused on starting his own company in the beginning of his twenties, so he pushed it off for as long as he could. He was horrified of what her reaction could be. Would she hate him? She told him her biggest secret on date one and he waited three months! What was he thinking? She, however, was absolutely understanding. A bit sad, a little upset, of course, but inherently she understand his want to focus on his career beforehand. She made him promise to contact her every week when he could use his phone and to not get hurt while he was serving in the navy. The moment she kissed him softly, reassuring him that she would wait till the day she came back, he knew she would be the one he marries.

    The past 20 months were terrible for her, sure. Only speaking on the phone once per week, not even being able to see his face, since photographs were still strictly prohibited in the military, really took a toll on her. But being a grown woman she understood that he had to do this, that he will be back soon. Mina, now 6 years old, was a whole different story. She didn’t understand why Baekhyun stopped visiting, why he missed both two of his birthday parties since she knew him, why he was only calling once a week – not even videocalling, like her grandparents, but just calling! She really missed him, Mirae could see that. Never in her 6 years of life did she miss anyone like this. She had friends move away from their neighborhood, hell, she saw her real father only once a month. But this was different, Baekhyun was different. Mina could see how much her mommy missed him, too, and seeing her sad only made the little girl sadder.

  “Does Mina know I’m coming home next Thursday?” Baekhyun asked at the end of their hour long conversation. Mina was already asleep, seeing as it was near 10PM. He would soon need to hang up.

  “No, I didn’t want to tell her until you knew the exact day you were arriving. She really misses you, you know?” She smiled fondly, playing with a strand of her own hair. One week. He’ll finally be coming back in seven days. He’ll be discharged on Wednesday, but his base is so far from Seoul his friend, Chanyeol would have to drive late at night. So they agreed they’ll stay in a hotel near the base for the night, then drive home in the morning. You offered to fetch him yourself, but he insisted on surprising Mina, and he said that would give it all away. He may’ve had a point.

  “Is she the only one missing me?” he joked. ”Good, don’t tell her. When can you pick her up from school? 4? Gosh, she’s already in school, I’m sure she’s grown so much…”

  “Yeah, I can’t even pick her up properly, she’s so heavy” she giggled at his rambling. “She’s almost 120cms now, she really grew a lot. I wonder if you’ll even recognize her when we go to her school.”

  “She has your eyes, of course I’ll recognize her! I really can’t wait, I missed you both so much. I have to go now, curfew, you know… I’ll text you when I’m near Seoul” he promised, a hopeful sigh prominent in his voice.

  “Okay, take care. I’ll cook your favorite, no cucumbers.” She winked and even thought he couldn’t see, she was sure he knew. “I love you”

  “I love you too, see you soon.”

    “GPS says 34 minutes.”

  “28 now!”

  “Only 24 minutes and I’m back!”

  “19 minutes, I can’t wait!”

  She giggled, looking at her phone and the seemingly endless messages, before typing her response. “Wow, Chanyeol must really want to throw you out the window right now haha Door’s open, soldier.”

  His messages didn’t stop, if anything they picked up in frequency. 17 minutes, 14, 13, 10, 8, 7, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, I see the convenience store, I see your street, I see the building…

  By the time Chanyeol parked his car in front her complex she was already waiting on the sidewalk, immediately running to him and jumping into his arms after he exited the car.

  “Fucking finally, if I had to spend another minute with him in my car, I might’ve driven into a tree on purpose.” Chanyeol’s grumpy voice sounded from the rolled down window. She let out a chuckle, thanking him for not killing his best friend before inviting them both inside. Chanyeol declined, taking out Baekhyun’s bags before waving goodbye and driving off. She smiled at him fondly, arms still around his waist. He bulked up a bit in the past year and a half, his shoulders broader than the last time she saw him. His skin was also a bit tanner, probably thanks to the time spent in the sun. What haven’t changed, thankfully, was his boxy smile and sparkling eyes looking deep into hers.

  They spent the entire day in each other’s arms, exchanging kisses left and right, talking about anything and everything. Minutes before 4PM they were already outside of Mina’s school. Loud screams and laughter sounded from the playground at the back porch of the school, so they headed there straight away. Upon seeing Mirae, a teacher called out to Mina – Mina, mommy’s here – and the moment her big eyes found the pair at the entrance, she ran like her life depended on it, straight into the arms of Baekhyun who was already crouching down with his arms open. “You’re back!” she cried out, small sobs shaking her entire body. Baekhyun hugged her close, smiling up at Mirae sheepishly, clearly fighting his own tears. Giving them a minute of privacy, Mirae walked towards the teacher overlooking the crowd of playing children, to collect Mina’s coat and backpack.

  “So is he the Baekhyun the whole school was hearing about lately?” she smiled at the mother knowingly. She knew Mina couldn’t shut up about how her Baekhyunnie was in the army and would be coming back any time now. Mirae nodded happily, exchanging a few words about Mina before she walked back to the two loves of her life. Mina’s arms were still tight around his neck, but he was standing up now, holding her in his arms securely.

  “Honey, you’ll have to let go of Baekhyun eventually, or he won’t be able to drive us home” she cooed, pressing a reassuring kiss to the little girl’s cheek, rubbing her back slightly. “It’s okay, honey, you don’t need to cry.”

  “Will you leave again?” Her voice sounded barely louder than the slight wind playing with her hair, but they both heard. Baekhyun kissed the top of his head, making sure she wouldn’t fall from his grip.

  “No, princess, you won’t be able to get rid of me from now on.”

  They stood there for five minutes, Mina not budging a milimiter, but her tears subsiding, before Mirae decided she would drive, while Baekhyun could sit in the back with Mina in his lap. By the time they approached Baekhyun’s driveway she was soundly asleep on his chest, him rubbing her soft hair slightly. Once parked, Mirae opened the back door and tried to get Mina off him, but even in her sleep she still wouldn’t stir. Once Baekhyun carried her into his home – cleaned biweekly by a cleaning agency for the past 20 months –, he sat down with her on the couch, waiting for Mirae to join them. Cuddled together, they talked in whispers, not daring to wake up the exhausted little girl.

  For days after Baekhyun couldn’t get her to stop clinging to her like a koala – not like he really minded. He did need to go back to work though, having been running his company remotely with the help of his right hand, Chanyeol. Mina also needed to go to school, but he made it his mission to leave early enough every day and pick her up from school. He even had to carry her out to the grill party they organized in his backyard that weekend, a small event with family and friends to celebrate Baekhyun’s return. Well, that was the reason Mirae knew. For Baekhyun, this small event wasn’t precisely about greeting his parents and brother, his niece and nephew or even Mirae’s parents. He wanted them all there for one reason, and one reason only. The reason was snugly tucked away in the inside pocket of his blazer, the gem precisely cut, the size determined sneakily by sneaky texts with Chaeyon.

  Mirae and their mothers were in charge of the side dishes and desert inside, while their fathers did the grilling. Baekhyun always loved seeing their parents getting along well – it seriously was more than he ever hoped for. Baekhyun sat down at the makeshift sandpit where his niece and nephew were already playing, supervised by his brother and sister-in-law, and encouraged Mina to join them. “Nervous?” his brother inquired, a hand resting on his shoulder.

  “More than I imagined I’d be.” Baekhyun sighed, watching Mina enjoy her time with the two kids who he hoped could become her cousins soon. “What if she thinks it’s all too soon? I mean, it is, I just… Why wait when I know I want to be with her forever?”

  “Hyunnie, you grew up quite a lot, didn’t you?” His brother’s grip on his shoulder tightened reassuringly, a proud smile sitting on his lips. “I can see she loves you as much as you love her. And I mean technically, you’ve been together for 2 years already. Sure, most of it was long-distance, but you both fought through it. Her kid also adores you, which I think is already a selling factor.”

  “Still, I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous in my life-“

  “Why are you nervous?” Mina appeared in front of him, hands full of sand, eyes full of wonder.

  “Oh, nothing monkey, I just need to ask your mom a question after dinner.” he replied, grabbing her and pulling her onto his lap.

  “But mommy’s not scary, I ask her questions all the time” she added innocently, snuggling closer to him. “Want me to ask it for you?”

  “No, honey, Baekhyunnie has to ask this. And this is our secret, okay, monkey? Mommy can’t know I want to ask her anything.”

  “Okay!” she playfully zipped her lips, before jumping off him and running back to play in the sand some more. He looked after her with fondness in his eyes, totally forgetting about the conversation he had with his brother before – or the presence of the older man for that matter.

  “See? It’s like she’s been your daughter all along.”

  “Should’ve guessed I’ll find you in the sandpit with the kids” Mirae appeared behind her, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pressing her lips to his cheek. “Food’s almost ready, could you get the kids to wash up and sit in their chairs?”

  “Of course, love” he turned in her arms, pressing a quick peck on her lips. “Need help with anything else?”

  “Oh, no, your mom is running around like a rabbit on steroids, I think her and my mom got the table all set up already.” Oh, his mom. When they arrived earlier that day, Baekhyun pulled her aside – just like he did with his father and Mirae’s parents individually later on – to let her know about his plan. She was overjoyed, just like the rest of the parents, but he guesses she couldn’t fully contain her excitement like he asked her to do.

  Dinner was going as smoothly as it could, with family member and friends talking in small groups about whatever they deemed worthy. Mirae turned to Baekhyun midway, looking at him like he brought down the stars for her, and kissed the corner of his lips. Did she knew? Did one of their mothers let it slip out? Maybe he shouldn’t have asked for their permission to begin with, it’s all ruined now- “I was thinking about switching workplaces. The restaurant chain is opening a new location in Gangnam, I’d have a lot more regular hours and I could be closer to you, as well.” She ran her hand down his lower arm until their fingers tangled together under the table. His surprised expression only caused her smile to widen. “What do you think?”

  “I think you should definitely take the opportunity. And you should definitely move here, with me, you know, so you could be closer to work.” he answered dreamily, not believing how well this all played in with his plan. “Your lease is coming to an end either way, right? The elevator hasn’t been working for a while either, did they fix that already? And Mina could play out here every day, without you having to bring her to a park. And you know, we could wake up next to each other every morning, so that’s an added bonus-“

  “Calm down, I was convinced by the time you mentioned the elevator” she joked, pressing another short kiss onto his lips. “Let’s talk about this after everyone left, hm?”

  “Yeah, let’s” he spaced out, touching the hidden pocket with his free hand. “Actually” he let go of her hand suddenly, standing up from the table. Everyone looked at him, some expectantly, some curiously – including her. “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time now. I-… I never thought that I would find the love of my life when I went into that restaurant two years ago. Honestly, I wasn’t even looking for a relationship, I was planning to finish my military service and then maybe start looking but then I saw you and everything changed. I was terrified of everything, of this newfound confidence you gave me, of disappointing you, or Mina, and when I was lying on my bed in the navy every day, I was terrified of one day losing you. I-… I don’t even know where I’m trying to go with all of this, I should’ve practiced more, but you just had to surprise me today, as well and… Just please, will you marry me?” He blurted out, now on one knee next to her chair, with the velvet box opened in his palm. He was too afraid to look at her for a second, but then remembered it’s her, he shouldn’t have to worry about anything. Both of Mirae’s hands were covering her face, tears quickly gathering at the corners of her eyes. Gosh¸ she wasn’t expecting this, not today at least, not for a while longer honestly. But just thinking about spending the rest of her days by his side made her extremely happy. She had no doubt Baekhyun is the one – but wasn’t this all too fast? Or was it? What more was she waiting for?

  Without uttering a word she threw herself onto him, arms wrapping around his neck and suddenly she couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. Free hand wrapping around her waist, Baekhyun tried shushing her, to comfort her. “I kind of need an answer here, sweetheart.”

  “Yes, of course” she choked out, hugging him even closer before he grabbed her left hand, slowly sliding the shiny ring on her fourth finger before leaning down and enveloping her in the most romantic kiss they ever shared. Friends and family cheering, kids ew-ing, it all couldn’t be more perfect.

  That was, until a year later, a day before their wedding Baekhyun was panicking, walking up and down the living room – their living room –, worried that they must have missed something during planning, something will go wrong and she will hate him forever. “Honey” She ran her arm up his arm, slowly wrapping both arms around his neck and tangling her hair into his soft, black hair. “It’s going to be fine. The wedding planner took care of everything, most guests are already in their hotel rooms, your tuxedo and my dress are waiting for us at the venue and I made sure the wedding cake is the best they could make. Everything is going to be just fine” she tried reassuring him, pressing kiss after kiss on his pouting lips. “Besides, I don’t need my husband breaking down on our wedding day, leaving me to take care of our two kids on my own.”

  “I’m not going to-“ he protested, clearly not registering right away the secret in her last words. “Wait, what, two?” His eyes were wider than she’s ever seen them, and she could swear if she didn’t know he was nearing 32, she would believe he was 9 going by how cute he was.

  “Oops, did I say two? Might have spoiled the honeymoon surprise” she added cheekily, carefully watching as Baekhyun’s smile widened to his ears before she could feel his arms crushing her bones as he pulled her close.

  “I love you, so, so much.”

  “I love you too, honey. You were absolutely worth the wait.”

    “So, Dad, I’m monkey because I was clinging to you when you came back from the army?” Mina asked, pushing himself away from her guardian.

  “Yes, sweetie.” He answered proudly. Jaehyun was already snoring soundly on his shoulder.

  “Then why did you not just say that? Why did I have to listen to your whole story with mom again?” Mina whined. Just as she was about to give him a piece of her mind – like the scary, independent, full of anger 10-year-old she was – Mirae emerged from the kitchen, an apron still draped around her front. “Mom, dad is the worst!”

  “Tell me about it, monkey” Mirae picked her up, ruffling her hair. With a big puff of air escaping her small lips, Mina crossed her arms.

  “I hate that nickname.”

#baekhyun #baekhyun oneshot #hi i'm back? #forgot how i used to tag shit

[gisachi]

Can you do number 30?

Thank you for patiently waiting! Before I start, I need to mention that this is a completely self indulgent drabble, heavily inspired by one of @detectivegeekshin‘s ShinRan doodles. This one. Damn I really really loved it, literally how can a doodle make my heart thump so fast!! So I hope you don’t mind me making a fic out of it!🥴❤️ And for Anon, forgive me if this kinda feels all over the place because halfway through I kinda did some paragraph vomit and derailed...lmao but I hope this still suits your taste, somehow! 😉

30. Weak, sweaty kisses because it’s unbearably hot. (1,726 words)

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Shinichi and Ran have a super secret routine after class.

After Shinichi’s return for good, everyone could’ve correctly guessed that the two would be back to being inseparable like bread and butter, so wherever Ran goes, Shinichi goes, except in the bathroom or in club activities.

No one ever questions this, understanding how much time they need together now that they’re making up for what they lost, not to mention how all their classmates find these two incredibly adorable together that they will deliberately go out their way just to see them both being happy spending time in each other’s company.

Which pretty much makes everything nice and convenient for them and their secret routine.

Because no one - absolutely no one - must know about it.

It all started three weeks ago when Shinichi accompanied her to the filthy storage room to return some cleaning equipment after her Tuesday cleaning duty. Idly, he dusted the back of her uniform just below her nape, noticing unnecessary cobwebs that might have clung to the fabric when she moved some big boxes away.

Nothing harmless about doing that, given that the public is a witness of how comfortable they are being innocently touchy with each other. But both realized touches like that translated differently when it’s just the two of them alone. As normal as how he intended it to be, somehow at that moment the sensation of his deft hands grazing her warm back made their breath hitch, throat dry, chest tighten with an overwhelming emotion they couldn’t quite silence at will.

Like any other curious teenage couple, there’s something about being physically close to each other that compels them to just...be closer, as if the knowledge that they’re already in each other’s personal space isn’t enough. Yes, there’s nothing implicative of her boyfriend stroking her back to clean some dirt away. But his hand rested there longer than it should have, and she heard his slow, steady breathing—or hers, she wasn’t so sure—amidst the thick silence of the dim room, nothing but the passage of light from the half-opened door as source of illumination. Instinctively, she turned around and it hit her that they were sharing the same space, same air, same look…

There was barely light but she clearly saw the dangerous glint in his dark irises, longing getting the best of him. He didn’t say anything, but his message came through loud and clear.

All she knew afterwards was the mention of her name escaping his and her hand pulling his tie and his hand on her waist and mouth over her lips and—

Thus the birth of their super secret routine. Just like that.

Ran is no stranger to stories like this. She’s already in high school, and she knows things like this happen to couples their age. As a matter of fact, she does hear stories from Sonoko about sneaky couples going for it on campus and finishing undetected. But never did she expect that they will be one of the guilty ones. She’s always trusted their self-control, believing they’re mature enough to at least keep their hands to themselves until they’re in the privacy of his own house (not in her house where holding hands isn’t even an option, unless they want to give her father a heart attack). But voila, all that is gone, simply because there’s something thrilling about stealing kisses in public that makes her not want to stop.

“Hide your lips, Ran. They’re swollen,” Shinichi warned and teased the first time after they emerged from the storage room, acting all calm and collected as if he wasn’t on high adrenaline tasting her mouth minutes ago.

“Mou, Shinichi! Don’t come with me anymore!” Ran replied, face turning red immediately after recounting how shameless they’d been in there.

But Shinichi would still come, and Ran would let him, and then they’d do it again—

—And still do it, three weeks later.

In terms of intensity, she doesn’t consider them on any high scale; what they do is a lot more innocent compared to what she imagines other more daring couples do. That’s how she knows that they still have their self-control in check. Nothing but kisses, lots of them. No hands under clothes. She isn’t ready for the next step yet and Shinichi knows it from the fact that getting her face to tone down the red takes even longer than the deed itself. Likewise for Shinichi, but months of practice allow him to perfect his poker face that could rival some magician thief the moment they step out the storage room.

Today though, Ran feels a little braver. While she’s pinned between him and a dusty cabinet, she forcibly yanks his tie so it gets a little looser, almost dangling from his neck. That’s the first time she hears him gasp audibly; before, it’s just her. She feels proud of what she’s done, and returns her lips to his.

But then they hear faint footsteps approaching and Ran instantly regrets why, of all days, she has to do the yanking that day where it’ll make it harder for him to hide any evidence of impropriety.

“Caught you!” a shrill voice exclaims, booming in the room like a megaphone.

Sonoko.

Of course, it has to be Sonoko.

The only one who’s brave enough to get in the way of their alone time, just so she can tease them about it later.

Ran should’ve known.

Fortunately, Shinichi has known.

Otherwise, Ran won’t have found herself getting dragged by him inside that old cramped cabinet she was leaning onto seconds ago.

It takes a while before she fully grasps the situation they’re currently in.

Sonoko’s in the storage room, her expectant voice telling enough to let them know that she knows they are in there, while she and Shinichi hide from her in some very narrow cabinet, with little to no air circulating and with space so tight even liquid water cannot seep in.

They wait impatiently for Sonoko to leave. She must leave now, or else Ran’s going to lose her mind over how incredibly intimate and embarrassing their position right now is. Her body literally squeezes his, her hands blocking her chest, while his right hand, for lack of a better space to place it on, grips her waist.

She isn’t sure if it’s her whole body shaking or just her rapid heartbeat vibrating at an outrageous rate that can shatter glass. It’s really warm yet she feels cold sweat dripping down her neck and temple, and Shinichi must be feeling the same too because she hears him curse under his breath, his palm on her waist rubbing it over the fabric of her uniform as if wiping it off of sweat. She sees nothing in the dark despite her eyes wide open, but she can sense his head facing the side, probably due to the cramped space, and she’s close to his ear so she whispers as quietly as she can, “How did she know we’re in here?”

“Beats me. But I figure this is bound to happen,” he shrugs inwardly.

The more they wait, the more the air expands. They hear shuffling sounds outside indicating that their friend hasn’t left yet. As if the heat and tension aren’t enough to kill them, he attempts to start a conversation.

“Seriously, yanking my tie?” He mutters, more air than voice.

“W-Well if I had known I shouldn’t have d-done that!”

“Shh.”

His grip on her waist tightens as the shuffling sound gets closer to them. She doesn’t know how much air she’s holding until she senses his head slowly, soundlessly turning to her. In that instant, every fine hair on her neck tingles to his breathing, and she’s sure he’s wearing a smirk as reckless words roll out from him,

“Wanna be daring?”

His left hand springs out from where it rests behind her, successful in finding her lips in the dark, tracing before parting them slightly, and before Ran can even tell what’s going on, she feels something warm and moist press against them. Weak, tentative, cautious at first. Firm, thorough, unrelenting the second.

Only then does she realize he is kissing her, right then and there.

All while their friend is literally inches away, looking for them.

Oh, her nerves.

Oh, the thrill.

She crumples his uniform under her sweaty hands and hums, his mouth absorbing her nervous plea. Her world zeroes in on his lips kissing her, and everything around her spins and spins like she’s spiraling into some black hole, dragging Shinichi along whom she feels smiling through his goddamn arrogant mouth. What if Sonoko suddenly opens the cabinet and catches them red-handed? Does he have an excuse? Will she think of an excuse? Can they think of an excuse?

They can’t. They’re much too busy indulging themselves.

Perhaps too busy that they fail to notice the shuffling noise disappear little by little. Only when Ran claws on his shirt to ask to breathe for air do they realize that the sound is completely gone and Sonoko has already left.

“Shinichi! What was that for!” Ran half shouts, breathless as they push themselves out the cabinet, her joints and muscles aching all over.

“You didn’t like it?” Shinichi chuckles, mischief in his tone brutally evident, and Ran turns vermillion red.

“Sh-shut up!“

“I’m saying you did tug my tie so hard,” he fixes his tie while Ran hurriedly flattens her hair into something presentable, “and if Sonoko sees us like this she definitely won’t shut up about it.”

She agrees. She doesn’t even want to think about Sonoko’s incessant teasing once she finds out she and Shinichi have this kind of arrangement after class.

“You did something daring today so might as well be daring too.”

With one final touch, Shinichi swipes his lower lip with his thumb, eyeing her playfully while he smirks in satisfaction, before walking to the door. “Let’s go, before she gets even more suspicious.”

Damn. She’s doomed. He knows she’s going to want more of those next time. Every session just keeps getting dangerously better and better.

As they exited the storage room, the only thing in Ran’s mind is how much she cannot wait for the day of Shinichi’s cleaning duty. This guy better prepare himself for her payback.

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#shinran #fanfic #kiss prompts #this self indulgent fic went longer than expected #no regrets tho hehe #hope you like it Anon!

[alkae]

They were Roommates

Chapter Five

Months passed and Varian and Hugo settled into a comfortable friendship.

Despite Professor Xavier’s better judgement, the two remained lab partners although Professor Xavier did keep a close eye on them. Hugo now read the packet front and back after he and Varian were told that every piece of equipment they wrecked would be replaced by them and come out of their own pocket.

Hugo had complained about that for nearly 2 weeks. “I don’t even have a job!” he had groaned one night to Varian. He was sprawled out on his bed, long limbs covering the entire perimeter. Varian had been at his desk, trying (and failing) to pointedly ignore him.

“Then get one,” Varian had said. In response, Hugo had groaned louder.

Needless to say, not a single piece of equipment had been damaged since that first incident. Hugo and Varian were good, obedient students.

Except for the times when Hugo didn’t come back to the room until extremely late. Varian would stay up those nights, waiting for him. He’d come in at 2 or 3am and the two would do homework until 4 and then pass out on the floor or with Hugo on the bed and Varian halfway on the bed with his legs on the ground.

“That’s sweet,” Nuru said when the two met up again in the library. They were bent over their computer science homework. At least Varian was. Nuru was doodling something in her notebook. Some girl she had a crush on. Probably her new roommate. Anyway. “So you’ve been getting along a lot better I see.”

Varian nodded. He couldn’t believe he was saying that he and Hugo McCoy were friends but things changed he guessed. “It’s been… nice,” he admitted. “He’s gotten slightly less annoying.” Hugo still made comments about his height but it stung less now that they were friends and constantly insulted each other. When Hugo called him Shrimpy, Varian called him Beanpole.

It was a beautiful friendship.

Nuru leaned back in her seat and tilted it as far as it could go without falling over. “I’m glad, V.” She smirked. “I’m so glad you have other friends besides me.”

Varian shoved her and her chair fell over. She shrieked and the librarian shushed her. Varian put his head down and couldn’t stop laughing until Nuru stood again and hit him.

~~

It was going to be another late night for them when Varian saw Hugo pulling out his nice shirt from his closet. He suppressed a groan as he collapsed onto his bed. “Hugo, it is a Thursday.”

Hugo pulled out some jeans from his drawer. “So?”

“So we have school tomorrow. Do you really want to push this again?”

“Yes.”

This time, Varian let his groan loose. Hugo threw a pair of socks at him. “It’s just a party, Ruddiger. Don’t worry, I won’t be stumbling home drunk tonight.”

“What makes you think I’ll believe that?” Varian asked skeptically. Even though Hugo had never come home drunk since they met officially.

Hugo turned to him and grinned. “Because you’re coming with me!”

That one statement had Varian choking on air and nearly rolling off his bed. When he collected himself, he saw Hugo rolling his eyes at him. “Jesus and you call me overdramatic.”

“Hugo,” Varian said slowly. “You know me. I can barely stand being in a crowded cafeteria. What makes you think I’ll be able to stand a party.”

“Because you’ll be with me,” Hugo answered simply. Varian leveled him with a glare before rolling over onto his stomach. Hugo huffed. “Seriously, Ruddiger. It’ll be fine. I’ll know everyone there and trust me, nobody I know are creepy perverts or creepy drunk perverts.”

“Besides you,” Varian muttered.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.” There were footsteps and suddenly a weight on Varian’s lower back.

Varian grunted. “Hugo, get off.”

“I won’t get off until you agree to go to the party with me.”

“Why do you want me to go so bad?”

There was a pause. Then, “Because we’re friends. And friends go places together.”

That made Varian freeze. It was the first time either had acknowledged that they were friends. Admittedly that was strange but that was how their relationship worked. And now Hugo said it himself. Varian could sense him fiddling with his fingers. He hated to say it but a part of him started to soften.

“We’ll stay there,” he said slowly, “for one hour.”

Hugo cheered and Varian shushed him. “One hour. I will set a timer. If we stay a minute longer, I won’t tutor you for a week.”

“Deal!” The weight on Varian’s lower back disappeared. He turned onto his back and watched Hugo start to dig through Varian’s closet.

“What are you doing?” Varian asked.

“We’re going to a party and you certainly aren’t wearing that.” Hugo gestured to Varian’s outfit: a blue sweater and jeans. Varian looked down at it.

“What’s wrong with my outfit?”

“Uh, Ruddiger, you look like a nerd.” Hugo snorted. “I mean, you are a nerd but the least we can do is make sure you don’t dress like one.” He ignored Varian’s death glare and continued to rifle through his closet. “Don’t you have anything trendy?”

Varian slid off his bed and stood, joining Hugo at his closet. “Trendy?”

Hugo pulled out a different sweater. “Something not like this.” Varian hit his arm. “Sorry, sorry.” He dug through the back and then pulled out a dark blue button up. “Got any slacks?”

Varian nodded and Hugo pushed the button up into Varian’s arms. “Alright then! You can just wear sneakers. And also, do something with your hair.”

Subconsciously, Varian scrubbed a hand through his hair. He never really thought about it that much besides the morning when he brushed it. “Don’t talk about hair to me, Undercut,” he snapped back instinctively.

Hugo put a hand to his heart. “You strike me to the core, Hairstripe.” He smirked and clapped a hand on Varian’s shoulder. “Now get dressed, Party Boy!”

Varian groaned and pulled away from Hugo’s grasp. He headed to the bathroom and changed quickly. He brought the button up along in case he had a job interview or something. He never thought he’d ever go to a college party but here he was. It was form fitting and a plain dark blue color. It was a bit small on him and he left the top button open so he could breath. The pants fit just fine and he slipped his worn out gym shoes back on.

When he got out of the stall, he checked his hair in the mirror. His hair was slightly ruffled but didn’t look that bad. He combed through it with his fingers and prayed it passed Hugo’s approval.

Not like he cared.

He returned to the room and saw Hugo with a white shirt, gray jacket, crisp jeans and boots. He stopped in his tracks. Hugo was always good looking but somehow, someway, he looked better. More handsome. He wore the same ponytail and Varian was, for some reason, grateful.

Hugo was zipping his jacket up halfway when Varian entered the room. “Ah Ruddiger! You’re-” He stopped mid sentence as he and Varian locked eyes. “Oh.”

Varian cocked his head. “Oh what?” He felt himself grow insecure. Did he look bad? “Should I change?”

Hugo shook his head a little too quickly. “No no no! You look fine. I’m just…” He hesitated. “Surprised a little nerd like you could clean up so nice.” He muttered the last part.

“How nice.” Varian rolled his eyes. “Now can we go? I have a test tomorrow.”

“Fine. Jesus, Ruddiger, you’re so impatient.” Hugo grabbed his room key from off his desk and soon the two were walking in the chilly autumn air. Varian wished he’d brought a coat or something with him. He caught Hugo’s eye and Hugo took off his jacket and handed it to him.

“Hugo, that’s not necessary,” Varian said.

“I insist.”

It made Varian’s face warm but he put on the jacket and zipped it up all the way. Since Hugo had about 6 inches on him, the jacket was a little large. But it smelled nice. Like apples. It kind of reminded Varian of the first time they met when Hugo spilled the coffee on him.

Ah memories.

They got to the house in no time and Hugo banged on the door. Varian swatted his hand away. “Don’t bang, Hugo, we’re guests. Be polite,” Varian chided.

Hugo didn’t answer as soon a boy with curly black hair and gray eyes was opening the door. “McCoy! My man!” His dark eyes landed on Varian. He felt himself shrink a little behind Hugo. “And who’s this?”

Being the unhelpful boy he was, Hugo pushed Varian in front of him. “This is my roommate, Varian Ruddiger.”

“Hey,” Varian said, trying to keep his voice calm. On the inside, he was screaming.

The boy waved. “Hey.” He stuck his hand out to Varian. “I’m the host dude. Name’s Tyler. Hugo and I were in computer science together last year.”

This made Varian frown and turn to Hugo. “Last year?”

For some reason, Hugo refused to make eye contact with Varian. Tyler was oblivious. “Yeah man! When we were freshman.” Now Tyler frowned. “Didn’t you tell him you were a sophomore?”

Hugo coughed into his fist. “It never came up in conversation.”

Before Varian could say anything, Hugo pulled Varian inside and Tyler closed the door. “Well anyway, my dudes, enjoy the party! Drinks in the kitchen. Hugo, you know who is in the living room.”

Varian thought saw Hugo’s face redden slightly. He couldn’t tell, since the lights in the apartment were dim. “Good to know. Come on, Ruddiger.” As Hugo led Varian further into the house, he heard Tyler say, “Nice to meet you, Var!”

The second they were out of earshot, Varian pulled Hugo down to his level. “Why didn’t you tell me you were a sophomore?” he asked. He wasn’t angry. This wasn’t going to change anything between them. But then… why were they in the same class?

Hugo shrugged, still not looking at Varian. “Never came up in conversation.” Now he looked over, gaze slightly hesitant. “Is there something wrong with that?”

Varian shook his head. “No. I don’t care. But why are we in the same chemistry?”

“I forgot to take it last year. Stupid I know,” he said quickly before Varian could intervene. “But hey, good thing I did because then we wouldn’t be lab partners.”

“Oh however could I cope with that?” Varian drawled. Hugo nudged him and soon they were in the kitchen.

“Punch, Ruddiger?” he asked.

It was probably spiked and Varian hated being drunk with a burning passion. He got drunk a total of one time and it ended with him throwing up in the bathtub of his friend’s house. He remembered nothing else from that night. Or the morning after. And that frightened him. So he declined at the risk of Hugo scoffing and screaming, “Nerd!”

Luckily, that didn’t happen. Hugo just shrugged and said, “Kay. Suit yourself.” before pouring himself a glass. “It’s really good though. Tyler’s boyfriend makes it.”

“Yeah, I’ll still pass.”

The two went into the living room where everyone else seemed to be. There were college students everywhere, some on the couch, some on the ground, some standing around in groups of 3 or 4. He caught a few people making out and he blushed at the sight. He shoved himself against the wall, acting as if he wanted to sink into it and disappear. Hugo looked at him disapprovingly. “Are you going to stand there all night?”

“For one hour.” Varian pulled out his phone and set a timer. “When this goes off, we’re leaving.���

Hugo closed his eyes and sighed. “Alright. Geez you’re so strict.” He looked out at the crowd of people. He seemed to be scanning for someone, Varian noticed. He recalled what Tyler said.

“Looking for you know who?” Varian asked calmly. He ignored the sharp stab of jealousy that reared its ugly head at the question. Just because Tyler said you know who, it didn’t mean it was a romantic interest. It could just be an ex friend. Or an ex partner.

Hugo flinched. “No,” he said too quickly. His face looked guilty and Varian felt himself mirror the feeling. He shouldn’t keep Hugo to himself when a possible friend could be waiting for him. That was selfish.

“If you want to talk to them, go ahead.” Inwardly, he was wincing.

Hugo seemed surprised. “Really? You sure?”

Varian shrugged. “I’ll just be here. You know where to find me.” His face grew serious. “You have-”

“One hour, I know.” Hugo smiled a smile at him that, for once, wasn’t a smirk. Whoever he was looking for must be special to him. Varian smiled back on instinct. “Thanks Ruddiger.” He patted Varian’s head before disappearing into the crowd of people. Varian leaned further into the wall and exhaled loudly.

Okay. He was going to be okay. He just had to stay here and ignore everyone else.

That worked for a bit. He stared into the crowd, eyes glazed over, as party music flooded into his ears. He kept his mind going to keep him occupied. The homework answers, the chemistry lab they had today… who Hugo was going to meet.

He shook his head. He had no right to be jealous. Sure they almost kissed but that could’ve just meant nothing. And whoever this was must be close to Hugo or else he wouldn’t have wanted to meet them that urgently.

“Hey handsome.”

Someone was speaking to him. Who was this? He jerked his eyes away from the crowd to see a girl with dirty blonde hair grinning at him. He already felt wary. “What brings you here?” she continued.

Was this flirting? He was used to Hugo flirting but not other people. He shuffled his feet uncomfortably. “Uh, my friend,” he said. “He begged me to come with.”

“Thank god he did,” the girl replied unashamedly. “Where is he?”

“Oh uh.” Varian glanced around the room. He didn’t see Hugo anywhere. “I’m not sure. He disappeared a while ago.” How long ago was it? He wanted to take out his phone to check the time but he didn’t want to be rude. Although he wasn’t very comfortable here. He felt even more so when the girl cuddled in close to him, wrapping her arms around his and leaning in so their cheeks were almost touching.

“Good. I’d hate to have an audience,” she purred.

That was it. Varian squirmed out of her grip and backed up so quickly he nearly tripped. “I uh I uh I need to uh.” He pointed around nonsensically before he dashed into the crowd. He looked around as he walked, eyes searching for a blonde undercut in a ponytail. After searching the living room, he wandered around into the kitchen and stopped short. He found Hugo…

Pressed against the counter kissing a dark haired girl who’s back was to him.

Varian’s stomach clenched and he felt like he was going to vomit. He couldn’t move. He felt frozen in place as Hugo’s arm came around the girl’s waist, pulling her closer. So this must be you know who. Varian backed up slowly, head blank, feelings a jumbled mess. Somehow he found himself at the front door and then on the walkway back to his room. He didn’t know how he got there.

He was stupid. He felt stupid. The incident in the bathroom probably was just that. Stupid. Stupid stupid. He blinked away stubborn tears and bowed his head.

He never should’ve gone to the party. He never should’ve let Hugo talk him into it.

And why did he talk Varian into it at all? Because they were friends?

They were. Friends. His heart hurt.

When he got back to his room, he sat himself right at his desk, not bothering to even take off his shoes. He busied himself with his homework, head spinning.

Who was she? Did Hugo meet her last year? Why didn’t he hear about her ever? He searched his brain for any mention of a girl’s name and came up with nothing.

He put his head on the desk, tears swimming in his eyes. He wiped at them with his sleeve and then looked down. This night had been so hectic that he completely forgot he was wearing Hugo’s jacket.

A part of him felt smug because that girl wasn’t going to get Hugo’s jacket tonight. He instantly smacked himself for thinking that. If Hugo was happy, then Varian shouldn’t be upset. Hugo was his friend and despite everything, he cared for him. Friends cared about each other. And that’s what they were. Varian closed his eyes as tears spilled. Friends.

Previous Next

#varigo #varian/hugo #varian and hugo #varian and the seven kingdoms #tts varian #hugo #alchemy boyfriends #tangled hugo

[desdemonafictional]

Sunstorm

We’re currently working on a pretty long fic but I REALLY want to show you this part because I’ve been holding on to it since like March

Banners from the Turrets AU, set after Apotheosis

--

Rung peered through the viewing window, a long pane of reinforced crystal with enough radiation shielding to make the room beyond look fuzzy and gossamer. It was a shame, then, that the vision beyond was no image of gods and glory out of a golden age light sculpture. It was only a young jet-engine in an otherwise empty room, in that scrawny stage as his last round of frame growth endeavored to pad his armor out around his protoform.

“You can’t seriously mean to keep him in there,” Rung said, taking in the absolute lack of enrichment material. Not even a pad to doodle on, honestly. “He’s been picking at his paint, look there, you can see he’s scratched off a whole section over his thruster. This is no place for a growing mechanism.”

“We gave him all his post-natal downloads,” one of the doctors said, resentfully. “He’s got plenty of material to review if he wants.”

The sparklings were coming out of the new hotspot at whatever rate they were growing, which was normal. This one was from an earlier protoform harvest, but not long ago, judging by his armor growth. He would have been moved through the nursery into the creche by now, normally, but...

“Cybertronians are intensely social beings, Kaput,” Rung said, pressing his palm to the window. “Maybe a war-hardened soldier with a lifetime of experience behind him can handle days of unbroken isolation, but look at that bot, doctor. He’s barely grown in his cladding. He’s been out of the dirt for what, a week?”

The golden seeker looked up, optics zeroing in on Rung’s palm at the window pane, and then his wings started to vibrate. His biolights swelled with so much light that just imagining their heat output was enough to make Rung wince. And then the mech started to cry.

Rung turned a hard look on Kaput. The sparkologist scowled and shuffled, avoiding Rung’s eye. The rest of the attendant nurses backed up and found other things to look at.

It must be difficult for them, caught between their immediate supervisor and--for all intents and purposes--God. Rung frowned at the new-build, who had begun to emit waves of radiation on a near visible spectrum.

Glit, off to the side of the gaggle, made a polite little noise. Rung turned with some relief to the beastformer, who has always been one of the more communicative members of Rung’s wartime staff. A familiar face was helpful. Facilities where Rung was not in charge had become unexpectedly difficult for him to navigate, over the years.

“The thing is,” Glit said, “we can’t let him out. He’s too dangerous. If he starts to get worked up like that around anyone who isn’t designed for long term space exposure, he’ll melt the circuitry right out of them. He’s a walking timebomb. And we don’t have any shuttles cross-trained as medics, so I can’t even get anyone in there to examine him.”

“Another belated gift of functionism,” Rung murmured. They shared a moment of pained resignation, two off-mode medics more than fully aware of how little they’d ever had to work with.

“So we thought,” Kaput cut into the moment, “maybe you could go in there. Bring us back some close readings. You were a medic during the war, right?”

Rung turned on him. “You want me to go in there?” he rapped the window with a knuckle. “Is this some sort of very polite assassination attempt? Doctor, I’m certainly not shielded for interstellar flight.”

“Well no,” Kaput said. “But you, ah, you are God aren’t you? You’re immortal, basically. Everyone’s heard about how you grew back half your head after that terrorist blew it off.”

Rung pushed his glasses up and rubbed his eyes. This was the kind of manner the medical practice had come out of the war with. Truly disheartening.

Rung was lost on how to deal with the whole divinity problem, such as it was. In fact he was fairly sure he could be killed--an impressive healing factor was no guarantee of true immortality--but would letting people make their own assumptions about it discourage other trigger-happy atheists with a bone to pick? Or would it only tempt hotheads to try their luck? He didn’t know, he couldn’t say, and meanwhile Starscream was halfway to reinstating a theocracy on his behalf.

He looked at the hiccoughing newframe in the isolation room, radiation pouring off him, and thought about the medical examination of his own scheduled for later that day. If he slagged anything, surely Wheeljack would notice and address it before it became too dire.

“Alright,” he said, pulling off his glasses with their delicate mechanisms, “I’ll go.”

In the next several minutes Rung experienced deep space preparations in amazingly short order. Before he could think twice, he was sprayed down with an aerosol protective coating, bagged into some kind of hazmat suit, and shoved through the thick lead door into the room beyond.

For a moment Rung worried that the jet was going to rush the door, and given his size--easily as tall and heavy as Starscream’s earlier war frames--but then he fell back, curling into himself, as the door closed behind Rung. The whole place smelled faintly of singed circuitry.

Rung held out his opened palms. “Hello,” he said. “My name is Rung. I’m here to help you.”

The jet regarded him with a helpless expression. “My name’s Sunstorm,” he said.

“That’s a lovely name,” Rung said, and meant it. “My very good friend is a seeker, like you. I know a little about jet engine frame types. Would you let me take a look at you?”

“Are you going to jab me with something?” the jet said, wings flaring as if to make himself look bigger. “They were jabbing me with things and then I started to burn them, so they put me in here. I finished my testing files. I didn’t do anything wrong. They didn’t have to stick things in me.”

“Oh, sweetie,” Rung said, “they weren’t punishing you. They were just trying to get your levels, for medical reasons.”

“I passed all the cultural data tests,” Sunstorm insisted. “I even passed the test on historical figures, and some of those classical composers had really confusing names!”

There was a growing physical discomfort inside of Rung’s frame, hot and staticy. He winced, and tried to ignore the smell of charred circuitry inside his olfactory receptors. He took another step closer, palms out, trying to seem small and harmless. “Those can be confusing, can’t they? The names? Some of them are written in old Cybertronian, and I bet you don’t have the language database for that yet, do you?”

“No,” Sunstorm said, and wiped some fluid from his face. “It’s a different language?”

“A different writing system,” Rung said. “Well, a different form of the same language too, but if you knew how to pronounce the glyphs, it would still make the same sounds. But don’t worry about that right now. Did they give you anything about more recent history? The last couple thousand years, maybe?”

Sunstorm shook his head.

“Okay,” Rung said. “That’s okay. Some of the medics haven’t dealt with young people in a long, long time, you see? So they don’t remember that sometimes, it can be scary when you don’t know what’s going on. It’s okay to be confused.”

“You’re not angry?” Sunstorm said.

“Of course I’m not angry,” Rung said. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Everyone was really mad before,” Sunstorm said. “They locked me in here and they won’t let me out.”

“I’m sorry it’s been a stressful first week on the planet,” Rung said. His more delicate components were starting to sizzle faintly. “I’d like to get you out of here as soon as we safely can. Will you come down here? I’d like to take a look at you.”

Rung reached up. Sunstorm glanced nervously at the viewing window.

“What are you worried about?” Rung asked.

Sunstorm curled back from him. “When I touch people, they scream. And the nurses grab me and drag me around. I don’t want them to come in.”

“It’s okay,” Rung said again. “They sent me in here to get readings, no one will be mad at you for touching me. Come on, kneel down.”

“I’m sure you’re not doing it on purpose, but do you feel that difference in the air now?” Rung asked. “Do you feel how hot it is? Can you feel something happening inside you that’s different from how you were a few minutes ago?”

Sunstorm closed his hand around one broad shoulder. His mouth wobbled.

“That’s radioactivity,” Rung explained. “There’s something inside of you generating these radioactive waves, and it’s very dangerous to the rest of us. They can’t let you out until they know how to stop people from getting hurt by it.”

Sunstorm’s face screwed up in acute distress, his fingers squeezing his shoulder reflexively. “You mean I’m hurting you? Right now?”

“Shh, sweetie, it’s okay, don’t worry about me.”

“But I’m hurting you!”

“It’s alright, I’ll be alright,” Rung said. He took Sunstorm’s face in his hands and gently pulled it into the crook of his shoulder. The bagging that Glit’s nurses had wrapped him in immediately melted open, exposing his shoulder to the hot jab of Sunstorm’s nose. “Relax your wings, sweetie. That’s good. There you go. Now open up your vents. Don’t worry about me, just try to get your frame to cool down.”

Slowly, as Rung walked him through the venting exercises he had taught to countless patients before, Sunstorm began to cool off. First it was just the heat of his out-vents, but then it was a gradual cooling in the air around them, and then the low grade itch of radiation dying away. A little at a time, Rung’s delicate circuitry stopped sizzling under the stress. 

#banners from the turrets #wip #transformers

[cannibalisticapple]

So around a week or two ago I sent an anonymous ask to @corndog-patrol suggesting Villain Mic finding a Cat!Shouta. When I saw it on my phone in the car, I had to stop myself from reading until I could get home and look at it in full on my computer. It has been so much better than I could have ever imagined.

Seeing all the doodles and artwork so far has been a HUGE inspiration for me, and I ended up writing this over the past week. Because I am physically incapable of writing anything short, it kinda ballooned to almost 8k words, partially because I ended up adding to it as more art was posted. The majority of it was written before the bowtie pic though, including the opening scene. (Fun fact: I originally called Shouta “Pepper”.)

It’s been a while since I’ve posted, well, anything to Tumblr, so apologies for any weird formatting issues! And thanks again to @corndog-patrol for making such a great Villain Mic AU! Anyways, enjoy!

The Adventures of Puddles

           Given his known fondness for cats, most of Shouta’s friends and colleagues often teased him about how getting hit by a Quirk that turned him into a cat would be a dream come true for him.

           They were wrong.

           The hero-turned-feline felt thoroughly irritated as he loped down the street, the heavy downpour soaking him thoroughly and weighing down his thick black fur with water. He’d been turned into a cat while heading to UA just that evening, and since then he’d been rather unhappy. Nemuri had laughed her head off when she found him halfway to her apartment with his goggles around his neck and his capture weapon dragging along the ground behind him, which really hadn’t helped much.

           Considering he’d been found by Nemuri relatively fast, he should be safe and dry right now, but then Nemuri had taken him to UA. Logically it made sense of course, Shouta would be safe there and he’d have easy access to a support network to find a way to reverse the transformation. Unfortunately, he hadn’t accounted for how the kids would react. One of them had sighted Nemuri carrying him inside, and Nemuri had no hesitation dumping him on the student with a sadistic grin while she went to meet with the other staff.

           After spending an hour being assaulted by his students cooing over him and ruffling him from twenty different directions at once (literally), he’d desperately craved some space and alone time. The sight of Snipe and Cementoss sneaking around with cameras and phones ready, clearly intending to take photos of his ordeal, had been the last push he needed to jump the wall and get away from UA for a bit. He knew the area well enough, he should be safe to walk around a couple hours even as a cat. Key word: should.

           It was just his luck he’d get chased by someone’s dog for what must have been half a mile, ending with him lost in an only vaguely familiar part of town. His attempts to find his way back had only succeeded in making him more lost over the ensuing hours, the vaguely familiar scenery giving way to buildings he absolutely did not recognize. And of course, it also had to start raining shortly after that.

           Right now, he just wanted to get out of the heavy rain. He was wet, cold, tired, and felt sore in ways he didn’t even know possible until being turned into a cat. Turns out having your body undergo a radical physical transformation tended to put some stress on muscles and preexisting injuries. Go figure. At least his dry eye hadn’t seemed to transfer over, but that didn’t make him any less stressed.

           The feeling only amplified when he stepped in a puddle and proceeded to plummet into it with a startled yowl, water splashing everywhere. Of course this sidewalk would have a giant hole in it that flooded with water and turned into a miniature, cat-sized bath. The hole was deep enough his head barely stuck above the water, the chilly temperature making him shudder. He scrabbled at the edges with an annoyed growl, trying to pull himself out.

           “Hey, you okay little buddy?” The voice behind him made him freeze, the fur on his back standing on end. Shit. He knew that voice. His head whipped around to see a man crouching behind him, and while he wasn’t wearing his costume, Shouta couldn’t think of anyone else with a loud voice who also sported a stupid mustache like that. This had to be Present Mic.

           Great, just great, he thought sarcastically. For some odd reason the idiot wasn’t wearing a raincoat in this weather, his long blond hair partially pulled into a bun with the loose strands plastered to his face and shoulders by the rain. How the guy could even see with all those water droplets on his glasses was beyond Shouta. “Oh man, I always said someone was gonna fall into this stupid thing. Come on, let’s get you out.”

           Shouta silently glowered at the villain as he reached out to him but made no effort to push him away. Trying to get a good grip on the pavement was tricky with the rain making everything so slippery. Maybe if he could figure out how to get his claws to pop out, but he’d yet to figure out a lot of his new form’s functions. Frankly, the fact he could walk at all was a miracle considering he’d never used a four-legged body before.

           So the sulking cat allowed the blond villain to carefully slip his hands around Shouta’s... armpits? Well, his hands went between around the edges of his front legs and shoulders, so, close enough—and pull him out of the hole. Rather than put him down like he expected though, Mic shifted his hold to carry the grumpy feline, turning to walk to a nearby apartment building. “Come on, let’s get you inside so we can dry you off. My place is just over there!”

           ...And now Mic was taking him to his apartment. Crap. Shouta naturally began to struggle, wanting to get the hell back to UA instead, but Mic had a surprisingly strong grip. In the end he gave up and just sulked in the villain’s arms with a grumpy scowl as the blond draped a towel over him, resigned to his fate. At least he was out of the rain.

           “Oh man, you’re lucky I found you!” Mic commented, looking down at him with a concerned frown. “A lil’ fella like yourself could drown in all that rain!” He switched on the light switch by the door, illuminating one of the most rundown and shabby apartments Shouta had ever seen. And considering his meager salary as an underground hero, he’d seen a lot of crummy places while apartment hunting. “You’ll be safe here, just make yourself at home you little cutie!”

           Shouta just silently scowled at his current predicament. He just wanted to get warm and dry and take a nice, long nap until this stupid Quirk wore off. (It better wear off.)

           The Quirk did not wear off.

             Morning found Shouta still very much a feline, much to his ire. He woke up well before Mic, the blond snoozing away in his bedroom (Shouta had chosen to sleep on the couch, which had literal patches sewn on it, he’d never seen that outside cartoons), and Shouta felt no small amount of irritation at the fact he still had this stupid feline body. At least he was warm and dry now. That didn’t make him any happier about the situation though.

           A glance at the bathroom mirror had revealed himself to be particularly mangy and stocky rather than sleek and agile-looking like most cats. His long hair had turned into thick, shaggy fur, the black coloration adding an air of dirtiness as opposed to the soft and fluffy feeling exuded by Mic’s actual cat. Sprinkles, if the name written on the food bowl was accurate.

             Speaking of the food bowl, Mic was now beaming down at Shouta as he sat next to the now-full bowl. “Come on, it’s safe to eat!” Mic goaded—nay, practically pleaded with him, his mouth pulled into a pout as he looked down at Shouta. “You have to be hungry, little guy!”

             Shouta just glowered at him, ignoring the bowl. Nope. Not gonna eat that. He might be a cat for now (seriously this stupid thing better wear off on its own), but he was NOT going to eat cat food.

             Mic sighed, seeming to accept the fact as he turned to begin rifling through the cabinet. Good, looks like he got the picture and was looking for something else to feed him. “It’s the bowl, right?” he muttered. Wait, what? Mic turned around holding a cracked plastic soup bowl, dumping another scoop of kitty kibble into it before setting it next to Shouta. “There! This bowl doesn’t smell like Sprinkles, so it should be good, right?”

             He beamed down at Shouta, clearly proud of his understanding of cats. Shouta just stared at him blandly, making no move to touch it, and Mic soon deflated. “Eh, you’ll get hungry try it eventually,” he muttered, turning away with a sigh and trudging off to his bedroom. Shouta watched him leave with a blank face, still pointedly ignoring the bowl of cat food.

             As he sat there Sprinkles sauntered over and plopped down on the floor next to him, blinking her large eyes at him as she studied him curiously. Normally, Shouta would be happy to be in the presence of a cat, especially one who seemed as sweet and friendly as Sprinkles. Seeing as he himself was currently a cat, however, he found his joy slightly diminished. He couldn’t exactly pet her with paws, which sucked since her fluffy white fur looked particularly soft and silky.

             For now, he settled for patting her leg with his paw to try to satiate the urge. Sadly, it did not have the same effect as running his fingers through her fur. He sulked up until he heard a gasp, and turned to see Mic staring at him with sparkly eyes from the door to his bedroom. He bounced over with a giant grin and bent down next to them. “So adorable!” he gushed, rubbing Shouta’s head affectionately.

             At this point, Shouta’s broody mood outweighed the urge to claw off his hand.

             “So, I already have Sprinkles,” Mic mused aloud, “So what do you think of the name... Pickles?”

             Scratch that. Shouta proceeded to do so literally, highly satisfied by the startled and pained yelp from the blond.

             “Ow! Ow! Okay, not Pickles! Ouch, that really hurts!”

              Day two of being a cat. Shouta was now covered in clothes while Mic loudly rooted through his dresser.

             “Where is that shirt?” Mic grumbled to himself, tossing a pair of jeans over his shoulder. Why he apparently stored pants and shirts in the same drawers, Shouta had no idea. Why did a person need this many clothes? Granted, he barely bothered with more than the minimal amount needed himself. But still.

             Also, what was that guy even aiming at? Shouta was sitting in the doorway, not even fully in the room!

             Mic made a sound of triumph as he held up a shirt in an eye-searing chartreuse, on the more yellow end of the spectrum. A fact Shouta knew only because he’d spent an hour arguing with one of his students over demanding to use the color in their costume two years ago. Why. Why did anyone have clothing in that shade.

             Mic turned around with a grin, but his smile quickly faded to a look of confusion. “Puddles? Puddles, where are you?” Shouta’s eye twitched, still displeased with the name (seriously, what was with this guy’s preoccupation with English words?), but it beat literally every other suggestion the villain had. Even if he didn’t like the whole reminder of being pulled out of a puddle.

             He gave a displeased mrow and Mic blinked and bent down next to the discarded pile of clothes, lifting up a pants leg to see Shouta’s eyes glowering up at him. “Oh, there you are, you silly baby!” Shouta glared at him, willing all his disdain to show through his eyes. Mic was unfazed. “Aw, geez, now I need to wash the hair off this stuff!” Mic playfully scolded as he started picking up the clothes.

             You literally threw it on me, Shouta thought silently. You have no one to blame but yourself for this. He waited patiently for Mic to lift the clothes off him, depositing them on his bed to be washed later. Shouta took silent pleasure in the glimpse of black hairs stuck to them.

             Mic pulled on the eye-searing shirt while Shouta continued to sit and brood, chattering all the while. “Man, I am so stoked to see this band tonight! I feel kinda bad leaving you alone here all day when you’re still getting used to the place, but you’ll have Sprinkles to keep you company so you shouldn’t be too lonely!” He grabbed what Shouta presumed to be his work uniform and folded the shirt over his arm, giving Shouta a final pet as he strode past him. Shouta remained in place, pointedly ignoring him as he continued to sulk and brood.

             Approximately ten seconds later Mic returned, looking notably dejected. “Your bowl is still full,” he said glumly. “Are you seriously on some sort of hunger strike?” Shouta made a rumbling noise halfway between a meow and a grumble, and Mic groaned, dragging his hand down his face. “C’mon, Puddles, I’m on a limited budget here! Do I need to steal expensive food for you?”

             Shouta responded with a pointed glare. He would NOT condone Mic stealing cat food for him. As a hero, he couldn’t allow even the most trivial of crimes, even if they had good intentions behind them. Plus, he had a feeling the blond would try feeding him a wet canned food next, and the thought of the slimy-looking can-shaped meat chunk just made him want to shudder.

             (He pointedly ignored the fact he stole one of the pieces of chicken from Mic’s dinner last night when the blond wasn’t looking. He was a cat right now, cats did not need to obey any laws, and snagging food from someone’s plate wasn’t exactly illegal anyway.)

             “I still have that concert tonight so it’ll have to wait until tomorrow,” Mic sighed, and then nodded to himself with a look of renewed resolve. “I can’t let you starve though! We’ll have to improvise for now!” He marched off to the kitchen, and Shouta followed silently, letting himself feel a glimmer of hope. That hope was soon rewarded when he found Mic rooting through the fridge, pulling out a can of sardines.

             Not my first choice but I’ll take it. Shouta trotted over as Mic put it on a paper plate, hopping onto the counter to begin chowing down before he could even pick up the plate. Relief visibly flooded Mic’s face as he ate, his shoulders slumping and a breath of air escaping him. “Oh thank goodness, I was getting worried there! Kinda picky for a stray though, aren’tcha?” Shouta just rumbled in the back of his throat, too busy eating to respond otherwise.

             “Welp, I gotta run if I want to get to work on time,” Mic said, glancing at the clock. “See you later, cool cats! Sprinkles, make sure Puddles doesn’t get into trouble while I’m gone!” The white cat meowed in response, and with a jaunty wave Mic departed, the click of the door shutting and locking ringing particularly heavily in the ensuing silence. Shouta’s head snapped up, eyes locking on the door.

             Okay, he’s finally gone. Time to see if I can find an escape route. Shouta had no intention of staying here absolutely longer than necessary; the sooner he found someone he knew, the better. Finishing off the sardines, he leaped off the counter and made his way to the door, determined to get out.

             Ten minutes of trying to open it later, he found his resolve faltering though. Cat paws just weren’t good for turning round doorknobs, even with the advantage of knowing how they worked. And that didn’t even account for trying to just reach it. There were no convenient surfaces near the handle to stand on, so he spent most of those ten minutes just hopping up and down trying to reach it.

             As he found himself clinging to the knob with all four limbs trying desperately not to slide off, he finally conceded this probably wouldn’t work.

             Letting himself fall to the ground, he proceeded to sullenly slink to the rest of the apartment to search for an alternate route. He’d neglected to explore the apartment the previous day beyond the bathroom and the main living space, as he’d rather not look around a villain’s place too much. Beyond the whole “don’t intend to stay more than a day” thing, he didn’t really feel keen on the “invasion of privacy” thing. The man might be technically a villain, but honestly, Shouta viewed him as more of a nuisance than dangerous.

             After checking the window in the living room and confirming it would be even more of a hassle to open than the front door, he reluctantly turned his attention to the bedroom. The door was half-closed, and he felt apprehensive as he crept towards it because, again, invasion of privacy. He’d only sat outside the door that morning because Mic was being noisy and he was curious. He hadn’t been able to see a window then, but there could be one on the wall outside his view, and if he got lucky it would be open.  So he nudged open the door, looking around, and—

             ............

             That was a lot of Eraserhead merchandise.

             Shouta just stared at the collection of posters and other objects in the corner where two dressers met, as if staring would make it disappear or somehow become... something else. Anything else. But nope, it all stayed in place, from the folded shirt to the homemade banner with ‘ERASERHEAD’ written in large English letters.

             I don’t even HAVE merchandise. What the actual hell. Those looked like replicas of his capture weapon and goggles, though the color was slightly off, and... Was that a plushie of him? Hopping onto one of the dressers and prodding at the small doll curiously, he confirmed it was, indeed, a hand-made plushie of him.

              Mic returned several hours later to Sprinkles pawing at Shouta as he hid under the couch. Mic, naturally, just assumed Shouta was spooked and proceeded to spend about half an hour trying to coax him out. Shouta pointedly ignored his cooing and just remained curled up in the safe embrace of the darkness, wishing desperately he could unsee what he had seen.

              Day three of being a cat. Shouta had finally emerged from his spot under the couch to dine on more sardines, having resumed his usual cool demeanor after the initial shock and embarrassment at seeing the shrine. What shrine? Shouta saw absolutely no hand-made plushies or other merchandise of himself, Mic’s room was absolutely normal. Well, as normal as a bedroom belonging to Present Mic could be.

             More important than nonexistent merchandise, he was starting to wonder if the Quirk had a time limit. Was he doomed to be forever a cat? No, no, he’d give it a week before he started to panic. A lot of long-lasting Quirks had a week-long time limit, there was no reason to assume it didn’t have a limit. No need to freak out just yet—

             What was that spot?

             Shouta froze, transfixed by a yellowish dot moving on the floor next to him. Gaze following it intently, he tentatively slapped his paw over it, only for it to appear on top of it. He blinked in mild surprise, and when he withdrew his paw the spot didn’t move with it instead, remaining in the exact place on the floor.

             Had he been human he would have frowned at it, so for now he settled for squinting. What is this thing? After a few seconds the weird spot moved away and bounced in a small circle along the tile floor. Eyes narrowing, he slowly crept towards it and pounced again, only for it to once more appear atop his paw.

             Another confused blink, and he quickly retreated, circling it warily. He slowly reached out to tap it, watching the spot overlap with his dark fur before quickly withdrawing his paw. Nearby he heard Mic give a soft giggle, which he chose to ignore as he inspected  the spot more thoroughly. Obviously it wasn’t a bug, or even anything physical.

             Is it a light? he thought. It was the most reasonable explanation. But what kind of yellow light is that small and able to move like that? The only light he could think of were—wait.

             Shouta abruptly froze as the spot zoomed away, just staring into space as gears clicked into place in his mind.

             Did I seriously fall for a laser pointer? he thought in disbelief. Another soft giggle from Mic drew his attention to the blond, and he confirmed his suspicion instantly upon seeing him pointing a pen-like device towards the wall. His left hand pressed against his mouth as he watched the two cats from a distance, an amused smile peeking through his fingers.

             I fell for a laser pointer, Shouta mentally reiterated in mild shock.

             In his defense, his new eyes had a more limited range of color so he couldn’t exactly tell the light was red. Had he been able to see its color, he would’ve made the connection right away. Somehow, his newfound red-green colorblindness had slipped his mind with everything else going on. Come to think of it, that hideous shirt Mic wore yesterday might not actually be that hideous. Huh.

           As Shouta stared at him Mic’s smile faded, his hand lowering from his mouth as he frowned. He looked kind of... disappointed? Shouta blinked, briefly confused by the change in expression, until he saw the laser zoom past his paws again. Oh. Mic was still trying to play with him. Yeah, Shouta got pretty dejected too when his own cat lost interest.

             As he watched Mic’s shoulders slump he felt a twinge of guilt, and decided to take pity on the man. He abruptly spun and pounced onto the light, the laser bouncing wildly as Mic startled. As the laser swerved away and Shouta chased after it, he snuck a glance at Mic to find him grinning brilliantly, his eyes sparkling. That looked much better than the sad look he’d been sporting.

             Shouta was only doing this because he was bored. Cats had very limited options for mental stimulation, it was only logical to take advantage of a distraction when he had the chance. The fact it made Mic happy had nothing to do with it. Nothing at all.

              Day four of being a cat.

             Shouta was learning more about Mic than he ever wanted to, and not just because he was forced to inhabit the same space as the man. No, Mic had apparently decided that cats made perfect receptacles for venting.

             Shouta felt ready for a villain to burst through the wall and end his misery now as Mic laid on his bed, venting to him in a manner eerily reminiscent a teenage girl. The comparison was more apt than Shouta expected actually, given the man’s obsession with appearances and melodramatic tendencies in his villain persona. He kind of reminded him of an unholy fusion of Ashido and Jirou.

             So far he’d heard everything. Rants about the awful music selection played at the convenience store on the way to his job. The atrocious battery life of his cell phone and the hassle of carrying a charger everywhere. The apartment manager who always drew out and loudly over-enunciated her words after she first noticed his hearing aids, making it even harder to understand her (actually a valid grievance, Shouta admitted).

             And Shouta just sat there with a grumpy look, trying to convey his utter lack of interest through his sour glare. Part of him contemplated just leaving, but he had actually been quite comfortable sitting on this pillow before Mic came in and flopped onto the bed with an exasperated, “You won’t believe the day I’ve had!” Aside from the noise, this pillow was still quite comfortable, much moreso than the couch, which was worn enough he could feel the springs creak under his weight. So he just tried to ignore the venting.

             It was not as easy as he hoped.

             “—And then there’s my shitty job—god I hate that place!” the blond muttered, poking Shouta’s ear. His ear twitched away from the touch, just squinting at him with disdain. You seem to hate a lot of places, he thought sarcastically. “They treat me like shit!” Most “villains” would try destroy a place if they really hated it that much.

             “It’s all just so horrible!” the blond finished with a dramatic groan, while Shouta watched on with absolutely no sympathy. Screw this, the couch is lumpy but at least it’s quiet there. He was about to get up and leap away when the blond perked up, a bright smile lighting up his face. “But y’know what makes everything better?”

             No, what? Shouta thought sarcastically, knowing he’d find out either way.

             “Eraserhead!” Wait what? Shouta tensed at the mention of his name, staring wide-eyed and starting to feel rising panic as Mic began gushing about him. “Seeing him always makes me so much happier!” Okay, he really should have seen this coming, since the villain was pretty overt about his romantic intentions towards Shouta in... literally every encounter they had. “He’s my boyfriend y’know? Sooo cute!” Wait, wait, what—no, back up!! We’re not dating— “He kicks my ass a lot but only ’cuz that’s his job!”

             Don’t say it like! That makes it sound like an abusive relationship!! A distressed hiss nearly escaped Shouta, but it was silenced by the all-consuming panic and embarrassment that had gripped him. Mic had a dreamy-looking smile on his face, his eyes almost glittering as he loudly proclaimed, “I love him a lot!”

             Oh my god. He really IS a teenage girl. Shouta felt like he was watching a disaster movie play out in real time, and in a way he was. The disaster that was Mic’s delusional take of their relationship. Did this idiot even understand how healthy relationships worked!? Why do you even love me so much!?

             Maybe his feline features were more expressive than he thought, or maybe Mic was just in a mood to gush over him, because the blond gave a dreamy sigh and proceeded to elaborate.

             “Man, you should see him in action. He’s so graceful and agile, like a cat.” More literally than you know right now, Shouta thought sullenly. “And he totally doesn’t back down even if the other guy’s, like, ten times his size!” That would be a sixty-foot-tall person, Mic. That would be unrealistic and just makes me sound reckless. “And he manages to take them down with nothing but his skills and his awesome scarf!” I wish I could take down a sixty-foot-tall giant with just that.

             “And plus, he totally punched a reporter in the face this one time!” Mic continued, and that one admittedly caught Shouta’s attention. Usually people highlighted that incident as a bad one, not a good quality. “It’s just, there’s so many heroes out there who only seem to care about the press, y’know?

             “Don’t get me wrong, I love big and flashy stunts as much as the next guy—I mean, as long as I’m not, you know, actually facing All Might myself, haha, oh thank god he’s retired now and that won’t ever happen—but some of them just feel... hollow.” Mic waved his hand with a vague frown. muttering. “Like, they do it more for the cameras than a feeling of doing good, I guess?

             “But Eraserhead,” he breathed with a small smile, rolling onto his side to gaze at the totally nonexistent shrine as he rambled, “He doesn’t care about that stuff. He’s willing to put his life on the line to save everyone! Hell, that poster of him over there” which does not exist “doesn’t show it, but he has this big scar under his eye. Like this, see?”

             He twisted his torso to face Shouta again and traced a crescent-shaped line under his right eye, mirroring the one currently visible on Shouta’s face at that very moment, seriously how dense could a guy be!? “And you know how he got it?” Mic asked, and yes, he did. It was hard to forget having his face slammed into the pavement and ground against it by a Noumu while his students were watching nearby—

             “He got it protecting his students, barely even a full week after meeting them.”

             The sheer reverence in Mic’s voice silenced any snarky internal commentary, Shouta just blinking slowly. Any lingering traces of the dopey smile had faded by this point, replaced by a more serious look he rarely saw on the blond. “Eraserhead almost died then. I heard he was lucky to even still be able to see. I sent him a card of course, and took over his patrol route for him until he got better,” wait, was THAT why there wasn’t a massive spike in crime while he was gone, “but man, it was such a close call...”

             He sighed, letting his head flop back onto the mattress as he stared into space. “It’s just... He went to work expecting a normal day, and instead he ended up facing a giant ambush of, like, two dozen guys or more. And he just went in anyway, knowing he’d probably die. And that—that takes a lot of guts. Guts, and heart.”

             Shouta remained silent, just... staring at him. Slowly he slumped atop the pillow and rolled onto his side, staring into space. He had a lot to think about now.

              Night four of being a cat. Shouta was currently in Mic’s bed. Repeat: Shouta was currently in Mic’s bed.

             Don’t move, he silently commanded himself, staring wide-eyed into the darkness as he remained perfectly still. At some point after listening to Mic confess his undying love he’d fallen asleep, and apparently Mic had taken it as invitation to use him as a teddy bear. The sleeping blond had one arm tossed over Shouta essentially trapping him in place, the hero-turned-feline pressed close to his front. By “close”, he meant he could feel Mic’s breaths tickle the fur on his ears, feel his steady heartbeat against his back.

             Had he been human Shouta would probably be blushing right now. Actually, he might still be doing so underneath the thick fur judging by how warm his face felt. This was the most intimately close he’d gotten to another person in... well, ever. Aizawa Shouta was not a tactile person by any means. ...But even with his limited experience he’d never been this physically close to someone.

             They were sharing a pillow, for crying out loud!

             Part of him wanted to worm his way out and abscond to the couch, pretending this never happened, but... at the same time, he didn’t really want to move. Mic’s body felt so warm. The arm draped over Shouta didn’t feel heavy, but instead oddly comforting. The rhythm of Mic’s heartbeat and the steady rising and falling of his chest gently pushed against his back, providing a silent lullaby that put him strangely at ease.

             This was so illogical. Mic was a villain—well, more of a public nuisance, but still—Shouta shouldn’t feel so safe around him. But something about being pressed so close to the blond, half-covered by the blankets and with his head laying against the surprisingly soft pillow, just filled him with an odd sense of contentment.

             He could feel Mic shift in his sleep, unconsciously pulling Shouta just a little bit closer. “Soft,” he mumbled, the word slurred and quiet, barely recognizable, yet still full of a deep fondness that tugged at Shouta’s heart. He exhaled slowly before closing his eyes, willing the tension to fade from his body as he curled a little closer to Mic.

             Just one night won’t be too bad. I just need to make sure he never finds out I’m the cat.

              Day five of being a cat. Shouta took back anything nice he ever said about Mic.

             “How do you like your new bowtie Puddles?” Mic asked enthusiastically, hugging a very unenthusiastic Shouta with a giant grin.

             “Mow,” he replied dejectedly. This is the worst thing I’ve had to endure in my entire life.

             “I agree!” Mic proclaimed cheerfully.

             “Mow.” No, you don’t, or you wouldn’t be doing this to me.

             Now that he was aware of his current colorblindness, Shouta had no idea what the bow tie actually looked like, but he didn’t think any color scheme could make it look less tacky. It had polka dots. Nemuri might claim Shouta had a horrific fashion sense (not that he cared enough to agree or disagree), but even he acknowledged that a polka dot bowtie was the epitome of stupid looking.

             Sprinkles mewed loudly as she pawed at Mic’s leg, blinking up at them with those large green eyes of hers. Similar to Shouta, she also wore a bowtie, this one a sparkly sequined thing that might be either green or pink. Unlike him, Mic positioned it so the bow was on the back of her neck, which Shouta found to be a perfectly practical and overall lovely choice for a female cat. Clearly she was used to being dressed up, as she made no fuss over it.

             “What’s that, Sprinkles?” Mic asked, bending down and finally releasing Shouta from his hold. Shouta promptly began tugging at the bowtie with his paw, silently cursing his lack of opposable thumbs to aid in removing it. His tiny toes couldn’t get a good enough grip to do anything but pat it, much to his dismay.

             While he sulked over that Mic held out his arms, Sprinkles jumping into his hold without further prompting. As she did her poofy tail coincidentally whacked Shouta in the face, making him jolt and sneeze. He shot her a sour look, while Mic just laughed as he swept her up and hugged her to his chest. “Hey, you did that on purpose, didn’t you?” he accused playfully. The white feline meowed and bumped her head against his chin, eyes sliding shut as she purred.

             The accusation made Shouta’s eyes narrow, his glare growing harsher. Mic snickered at his expression before turning his attention back to Sprinkles, his grin softening to something more gentle and fond. “I get what you’re doing. You’re just jealous of all the attention I’m giving Puddles, aren’t you?” He adjusted his grip to scratch her chin and Sprinkles seemed to melt in his arms at the attention, a look of pure bliss on her face. “But you don’t need to be jealous. You’re still my adorable sweetheart.”

             As he watched the pair Shouta felt his ire melt away, replaced by a sense of peace and contentment. The love and adoration in Mic’s face as he gazed down upon Sprinkles was nothing but genuine, the relaxed slump to her body an indication of total trust and happiness.

             A guy who cares about cats that much can’t be that bad, he thought to himself quietly.

             Half an hour later, he rescinded that thought when Mic posed with him and Sprinkles, all three wearing matching hats and bowties as he tried to angle his phone for a good selfie. He silently vowed to get his paws on that phone and dump it in the toilet as soon as he had the chance.

              Day six of being a cat.

             Mic had returned from his job a few minutes prior, which was just as well since Shouta had unfortunately confirmed that operating a laser pointer without thumbs was hard. He had a feeling Sprinkles had been more frustrated by the erratic movement and blinking of the dot than usual during his attempts to play with her. At some point she’d clocked onto Shouta as being the source of her frustration, because she had decided to ignore the laser in favor of jumping at him.

             “Wow, you two did a lot of roughhousing today, huh?” Mic asked as he sat on the floor with Sprinkles in his lap, running a brush through her fur. Strands of black had gotten mixed into her otherwise pristine white coat, the usually fluffy and silky texture more ruffled and messy from their small wrestling match. Shouta himself looked no better; he could see white furs spot his paws, almost seeming to glow against his own pitch black coat.

             He had taken refuge atop a cabinet in the far corner to get away from Sprinkles, and now took advantage of his vantage point to just... observe them. Mic clearly brushed Sprinkles often judging by her reaction. She purred contently as he gently dragged the brush along her head, her ears briefly flattening beneath the bristles before popping back into their usual perky position. She leaned into the strokes, arching her back slightly while her cheek rubbed against his chest.

             The sheer love in Mic’s expression was visible to anyone, his smile so much softer than Shouta ever thought the loud and hyper man to be capable of. Plucking a few lingering strands of black fur, he set the brush down and lightly nudged her off his lap. Sprinkles hopped off his lap and strutted away, the blond watching with obvious fondness.

             Those warm green eyes turned to Shouta, making him stiffen. “Okay, your turn,” he said, patting his lap invitingly. When Shouta didn’t move he got up and walked over, stopping next to the cabinet. “Come on, time to get down.”

             “...Mrow,” Shouta responded in a surprisingly meek way. I would, but I’m kinda stuck, he thought sheepishly. Climbing the cabinet had been one thing, but now that he was on top of it... well, the drop to the floor looked much higher than he thought.

             This is so illogical, he thought sulkily. As a human he’d made plenty of larger jumps (with the support of his capture weapon of course), but as a cat the drop seemed a lot bigger. He also lacked the fine-tuned reflexes and familiarity with his body he’d developed from years of training with it, so he felt considerably less confident about his ability to safely jump from such a height without hurting himself in some way.

             Mic seemed to pick up on his unease, a small frown settling on his face. “Hey, Puddles, are you nervous?” he asked. “Here, come on, just hop on down. I’ll catch you, okay?” He held out his arms, and Shouta blinked, slow and catlike. Seriously? He was asking a cat to jump into his arms? The rational part of him scoffed, since he knew a normal cat wouldn’t be able to understand such a thing.

             But... the less rational, cat-loving part of him, understood. How many times had he tried to coax a cat to jump down from a branch, to leap right into his open arms, logic be damned? Seeing that earnest look on the blond’s face, the encouraging little smile silently asking him to trust him... It made something feel content in Shouta’s chest.

             And so, he jumped.

             His jump was clumsy and awkward, his mobility just as hindered by his lack of familiarity with this body as he suspected. One of his hind paws ended up catching on the edge of the cabinet, turning a would-be graceful leap into a fumbling tumble. Mic shot forward and caught him, the drop to his arms nowhere near as long as it would be to the floor.

             Shouta blinked dumbly as he stared up at the blond, cradled almost like an infant. He had a perfect view of the blond’s smile, relief clear in his face. “Oof! Almost slipped there! Don’t worry though, I got ya buddy.” He carried Shouta over to where he’d left the brush and sat on the floor, rolling Shouta onto his stomach with the feline settled in his lap. He picked up the brush and pulled off the fur already caught in the bristles before he began running it through Shouta’s fur, the strokes light and gentle.

             Shouta tensed, memories of painful attempts to brush his own hair flashing through his mind. Tugging his brush through particularly bad knots sometimes felt just as painful as getting slammed into the wall by a villain, and he didn’t look forward to feeling it all over his body. To his surprise the strokes were light and gentle though, each one strangely soothing, and—dare he say it... nice.

           He practically melted in Mic’s lap as the bristles stroked through his thick fur, Mic using his free hand to pluck individual white furs that the brush couldn’t capture. “I bet you’ve never been brushed before, have you?” he mused aloud. “You look like you’ve lived your whole life on the streets, you poor thing. Don’t worry though, those days are over.”

             Shouta gave a throaty hum, his eyelids sliding shut. It was exactly the kind of thing he had told his own cat when he’d first brought her home, some distant part of his mind noted. He didn’t know how much time passed with Mic brushing him, his mind slipping into a content haze.

             It felt like all too soon Mic finished, setting the brush down. He didn’t nudge Shouta off just yet like he did with Sprinkles though, instead pulling Shouta into a small hug. The mellow haze which had consumed his senses lifted slightly at that, a single golden eye peeking open as he felt the blond scratch his ear.

             “Hard to believe it’s been a little under a week since I found you.” Mic had a gentle smile as he stared down at Shouta, his eyes soft and lidded. “It already feels like you’ve been part of the family a lot longer.” His hand fell away from Shouta’s head, joining his other arm to wrap around him in a slightly tighter hug. “It might be silly, but I’m glad you’re here—it gets quite lonely at times. Pathetic, I know.”

             The blond gave a self-deprecating chuckle while Shouta just sat in his arms, staring forward blankly. Right now, he could feel nothing but pure love radiating from Mic, his genuine and powerful fondness for what he believed to be a normal cat quite evident despite only knowing “Puddles” for less than a week. And hearing him call himself pathetic so easily didn’t sit right with Shouta.

             Before he knew it he’d twisted in Mic’s hold and bumped his head against the man’s chest, purring lowly as he rubbed his head against him. He could feel the blond perk up, sitting a little straighter. “Oh! You’re a cuddly kitty!”

             Shouta just kept purring, eyes sliding shut as he felt the blond gently scratch his back.

             This, he thought distantly, was contentment. This was happiness. Just being in the arms of someone who cared about you, and showing you cared about them back, even if just a little.

             Maybe being stuck as a cat wasn’t so bad after all.

              Morning seven found Shouta rousing to consciousness slowly, his eyes feeling crusted shut and refusing to open. His muscles felt notably more sore than they had the past week, making him groan lowly and curl up a little tighter. Ugh, stupid cat body... He forced his eyes to blink open, and for a moment he was confused.

             Doesn’t the room seem a bit... brighter? He frowned, squinting blearily at the shrine (not a shrine, what shrine, those were just random posters of a random guy who happened to resemble him) which seemed a bit more colorful than he remembered. The sand crusting his eyes made it hard to focus, and he reached a hand to rub it away before pausing. Wait a minute, is my hand human?

             Behind him Hizashi slowly stirred to consciousness as the mattress shifted, a distant part of his mind registering it dip heavily to the side. A sleepy little moan slipped past his lips, barely audible to even the keenest ears, his eyes drowsily fluttering open to see something dark and furry in front of his face.

             Puddles? he thought hazily, but as his vision came into focus his still-drowsy mind quickly registered that it was not his feline. No, it was the back of a human head, a man sitting up on the other side of his bed. A flash of peach near the blankets drew his eyes to an arm with a starburst-shaped scar on the elbow, the blanket falling slightly as the man lifted his torso and wait his back was totally bare, holy shit this guy’s totally naked and he’s in my bed. Any lingering drowsiness vanished instantly as he bolted upright.

             “What the fuck!?” Hizashi screamed as he bolted upright, Quirk unconsciously activating in his shock.

           Shouta flinched and sat straight up, his hair whipping around his face in the voice-fueled blast of wind as he gripped the blanket against his chest. Well, the Quirk finally wore off at least. Okay, he doesn’t have his glasses yet. Hopefully he won’t be able to recognize you and you can just run before he gets them—

              “Wait, wha—ERASERHEAD!?”

             So much for that. As Mic’s voice devolved into a high-pitched squeak of horror Shouta rubbed at his eyes with a quiet groan, doing his best to ignore the sudden silence that fell over the room. After a few seconds past he turned his head slightly to look at the blond, finding him staring at him with an ashen look of shock and disbelief, mouth open but for once producing absolutely no noise. Only took waking up next to me in bed to finally get him to shut up.

             “So,” Shouta said awkwardly. “Got any pants I could borrow?”

#erasermic #aizawa shouta #aizawa x hizashi #yamada hizashi #mha #fanfic #my hero academia #boku no hero academia

[shadowthrone-ammanas]

I got this idea while doodling the Conductor (I don't know if this is a drabble request or not I just HAD to share this idea) But What if on top of being half fire spirit and having fire powers, the Conductor Also has claws and when he gets stressed or board he uses a scratching board like a cat. What if shortly after learning about his Fire powers and having a crisis Grooves finds out he uses a scratching board and has to take another moment to process the new info. Con just thinks it's normal.

Thank you for the request! I had to deem it one because I really wanted to write it because it’s DiscoTrain and fire magic Conductor.

Fire and Claws

“I-it won’t light,” the owl said as he looked up from his attempts to set the pile of wood on fire. “I think the wood might be damp.”

Grooves sighed. It wasn’t even halfway through the day yet and things were already falling apart. All they wanted as a darn campfire scene but everything was breaking. First the monster had broken and needed repairing on top of the actor controlling it being late, now the firewood was damp. And if it was damp the rest of it probably was too because what little they had, they kept stored all in the same place in the basement. Meaning they had to send someone out to get a fresh bundle from the store. Which would take an hour at least.

“You’re pecking incompetent,” the Conductor growled as he stood up. “Let me do it.”

“Conductor darling,” Grooves said, “How many times have I told you not to swear at the actors or set people? It’s not his fault. And if the wood is damp, I doubt you could light it any better than he can.”

The Conductor ignored him as he marched over to the unlit campfire, the owl kneeling besides now cowering as he held up the box of matches he’d been using to try to start a fire. The Conductor didn’t take it though, instead he put his hand over the firepit and snapped his fingers. Suddenly a fire blazed to life, engulfing the damp wood as if it were dry as a desert. He then marched back over to sit beside Grooves again as if whatever he’d just done was no big deal.

“What the peck you all looking at?” he snapped breaking the silence that had come with his stunt or whatever it was with the campfire.

“Uh… we’re looking at you because… what the heck was that?” Grooves asked, unable to stop staring himself because honestly what was that?

“You mean the fire? You peck-necks seriously have never seen fire magic before?”

“Con darling, I as well as I’m sure many of the fine people here have seen it before but not from you. And some of us have known you for a very long time and are only just now finding out that you have… fire magic?” Grooves had known him probably longer than anyone else currently alive. How was it even possible that he hadn’t found this out before? “Is that it? Do you seriously have fire magic? Really?”

“Yes. It’s not my fault you didn’t know, I use it whenever I need it. Now everyone stop gawking and get the peck to your proper places. The fire’s pecking lit so you don’t have any more excuses to be standing around.”

From there, the Conductor took the lead in directing the scene because Grooves was a bit too distracted. How was it possible for him to not know the Conductor had fire magic? And how did he have it? What was he? Grooves had idly wondered that a few times because he was not any kind of bird Grooves had ever seen before but had determined it didn’t matter. And it still didn’t but… was he even a bird at all? Maybe he was a phoenix? Feathered dragons were supposedly a very rare thing, right? Maybe that’s what the Conductor was? Or maybe he was half bird, half something with fire magic? Like half fire spirit perhaps? The most common being with fire magic. But made of fire, could they even reproduce with a flesh being? There were also a number of other beings that the Conductor might be related to that would give him fire magic. It was impossible to know what the answer might be.

Grooves wanted to know more, no, he needed to. It was fascinating but befuddling mystery. He’d always found the Conductor an interesting fellow but now he was even more so. Asking him for more info might lead nowhere but they were friends now, working together on movies, so it might lead somewhere too. Grooves couldn’t know unless he asked. Which he probably shouldn’t do while they were working, they had to get this scene filmed. And it’d be better as a more private conversation.

So he eagerly waited until lunch break finally rolled around. He ate as quick as he could without it looking like he was trying to hurry before heading to the Conductor’s dressing room. He let himself in because the Conductor had said he didn’t care if he came in as long as the door was unlocked, which it was.

Inside, the Conductor was standing with his back to the door, facing the rear wall. He’d propped something up against the wall, a… board of some sort? It had a weird texture to it and… the Conductor ran both hands down it, making an uncomfortable sound. It was very odd and the Conductor repeated the action. It seemed to be something he was just doing. But what was it and why was he doing it?

“Uh… what is that?” Grooves asked instead of giving the greeting he’d been planning on because he was confronted with something new about the Conductor for the second time that day.

The Conductor turned to face him. “It’s me scratching board. What else would it be?”

“Uh… I don’t know. I’ve never seen one before.” And he certainly never would’ve thought he’d see one for the first time under these circumstances. “But… why do you have one?”

“Because you made me quit drinking so much. What else am I supposed to pecking doing when I’m stressed out, sit around and twiddle me thumbs the way you seem to do?”

Grooves could tell him that that’s not what he did when stressed but honestly, he was still trying to come to terms with the fact that using a scratching board was apparently just a normal natural thing for the Conductor. Which would’ve been only mildly odd if it wasn’t also paired with the fire magic. Really, Grooves had learned more about the Conductor today than he had in a long time. Stuff that wasn’t new either, just new to him because he’d somehow never seen the Conductor use fire magic or scratch a scratching board before today. It left him with more questions and a deeper fascination. He was going to get to the bottom of this for sure.

For this drabble event.

#My Writing #Ahit #A hat in time #DiscoTrain #the conductor/dj grooves #fire magic Conductor #clawed Conductor

[queen-scribbles]

🖊?

You, dear patient anon, get me rambling about my boy Phillip, bc I’ve had this brewing in me pretty much since my fist time through the @speakergame​ demo and I need to let it out, just kept procrastinating about actually doing so :D

I need to gush about his friendship with Lily, bc even if there was no crushing involved on his end, she was a very, very important part of his life until they got split up.(and also maybe a bit about his teens in general. It sort of all ties together.) 

Phillip was noticeably less reserved as a kid than he is now. He was never especially bold or sought out the spotlight, just more... willingly social. He’s always been an introvert, but I guess you could say he went longer before needing to recharge his batteries as a kid. And he had(still has) a mischievous streak that pretty much solidified him as Lily’s best friend when they were, like, three or four. He helped her plan and perpetrate pranks of all kinds through their younger years; everything from glitter bombs in bullies’ desk to a couple fire-alarm pulling stunts that were close enough together the pair of them got suspended and very nearly got expelled. Phillip was almost always the distraction/lookout, being equally good at thinking on his feet and talking,  absolutely ride or die committed to having Lily’s back. Seriously. There was one time when they were eight he did the whole “Whoops, I fell” thing to distract a teacher and actually nicked his ear on a metal cabinet door he hadn’t noticed was partially open. (It didn’t even hurt that bad, but it did bleed like crazy, and he will absolutely joke their friendship scarred him for life, even as he winks at her or gives her a side hug etc. :P) 

The one time they switched roles they were about.... nine; Lily played lookout so Phillip could sneak into the teachers’ lounge and swap both the sugar and the powdered creamer for salt. >:) They absconded with the sugar for personal enjoyment, but the powered creamer was put to nefarious purposes.

Lily’s also to blame/thank for his artistic bent; she’s the first thing he drew when it started being more than just doodling in notebook margins. It’s not very good (better than he thinks it is, though), and he’d probably die before he showed it to her. (His mother is the only person other than him who knows it exists. Far as he knows.) He has several notebooks from the last year or two before they got split up where the margins and covers are full of doodles or sketches of the two of them--some serious, some silly, most with “SHENANIGANS” written over their heads with a rainbow or sparkles or something (Steph’s addition, to tease him).

And then came the split. Sure, the school probably had a system that was fair and impartial behind deciding who went to which school, but trying telling that to a thirteen year old boy who just found out he’s not gonna get to see his partner in crime best friend every day anymore. He was convinced he and Lily got split up on purpose, because they were Too Much Trouble when they were together. Also, he hated the new school. He got in three fights in the first two months bc kids wouldn’t stop picking on Stephanie for being “weird” and he’s extremely protective of his sister. He did’t win any of these fights--his finesse is a BIG FAT 0--but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t stand up for her anyway. (He can’t make the visions go away, so protecting her from other stuff is the best he can do.) 

He didn’t go sulky-quiet in the new surroundings, but he did get a lot more insular those first couple years before he balanced out to “introvert with a wicked, dry sense of humor who could charm the socks off just about anyone if he had a mind”. He started drawing and reading more(already things he loved doing, they just got more of his time bc he didn’t click friendship wise with anyone), spent all of high school trying and failing to work out time to hang out with Lily somehow; their schedules were just too different; he’s busy when she’s free and vice versa. It still takes a while for him to finally give up. (They came really, really close once when he was seventeen, but then Steph Saw something imminent and terrible and their family had to go blazing halfway across the country last minute to stop it. That was what did it. Even when everything else in life is willing to cooperate, what- or whoever is behind those damn vision thinks it’s funny to fuck things up so FINE. He’s so pissed at The Universe he deliberately doesn’t try for four months. Which turns into five... six.... a year and, well... *gestures at the story*)

After that, after he finishes school, after his and Steph’s parents move, he still thinks about trying to reconnect, but now they’re in that zone when it’s been long enough it would be weird. Awkward. He doesn’t know if she’s moved on and made other friends, maybe she’s... outgrown(?) their friendship and it’s one of those cherished memories but not something she’d want to renew, so he chickens out(”For now, maybe I’ll try later...”), and the longer he puts it off, the more awkward it feels like it’ll be without a Good Reason. He can’t just call her out of the blue after all this time; that would be like stalker-weird, wouldn’t it?

And then Steph has the RK vision and it drops the perfect excuse to reconnect with the Cowles family in their laps and he jumps on it. He and Lily slip right back into their friendship without missing a beat. Like they didn’t spend a decade apart. And Phillip is very grateful his overthinking induced worry couldn’t have been more wrong. He missed her.

#phillip prince #speaker