#Thinking About A Potentially Awkward Interaction With An Old Friend

[amateuraspect]

"this time away has taught me that I like this distance from you"

— Crywank, Thinking About a Potentially Awkward Interaction with an Old Friend

#crywank #Thinking About a Potentially Awkward Interaction with an Old Friend #just popping in to say hi #lyrics #contained

[angry-things]

I don't think my brain deserves it To relive what I have left behind

#Crywank #crywank lyrics #Lyrics #Thinking About A Potentially Awkward Interaction With An Old Friend #Just Popping In To Say Hi

[naeviskz]

“ PRETTY , PLEASE ” ๑‧˚₊ ─── FLX

synopsis ; you think your roommate is really pretty, but you think he’s even prettier when he whines and begs for you.

genre 숌 virgin!felix x fuckgirl!reader | roommates AU

words - 4.0k+ tags/warnings 숌 fluff, pwp, smut, (slight age difference: felix is 23/reader is 25), sub!felix/dom!reader, noona kink?, perv!lix, oral (m), solo masturbation, corruption kink, edging, dacryphilia, rlly cute & soft ending tho <3

☆ 彡

Have you ever met someone so pure and innocent that you feel the need to shield them from any and all bad influences that might corrupt them?

Those were your exact thoughts when you first locked eyes with your new roommate Felix. You thought he was the most precious little bean ever ;( His shy, timid nature made you want to coddle him like a baby, and always spoke in such a polite, well-mannered tone due to you being his senior. At first Felix didn’t talk very much when he moved in and was constantly cooped up in his room doing god knows what, but eventually he’d warm up to you and the two of you soon became really good friends.

You don’t particularly like most men, you tend to get annoyed with them easily, only using them for a quick fuck because that’s all they’re good for. Personally, you didn’t care to start getting serious with anyone at the moment, prioritizing work and other future goals instead of boys who come and go. Felix was quite literally the only exception to this. You genuinely enjoyed his company and valued him as more than a friend, he was so easy to talk to and could make anyone in a room feel comfortable with his presence.

You loved how he never made a fuss about chores when you didn’t feel like doing them. He was never rude or brought strangers over, and he kept to himself most of the time— the perfect roommate ever. Felix was studying biology at school to become a veterinarian as he’s told you many times he loves animals before. You were already out of school by now, as you graduated 2 years ago but you didn’t mind living with someone a couple years younger. He’s very mature for being in his early twenties, even more than some of the 30+ year old “men” you’ve slept with in the past.

One thing you’ve noticed since he’s always keeping to himself, he takes his schooling very serious and constantly studies. He never drinks, smokes, or goes out to parties, but he doesn’t act better than anyone either, it’s just how he is. You’ve never seen someone so dedicated to their work, wondering in the back of your mind if he even knows what taking a break means. You’ve tried getting to invite him out to other social events but he would always say that studying was far more important, you seriously never seen someone be so obsessed with school. Before you graduated, you weren’t a straight A student by any means but you did care about your grades, overall you still managed to balance a social life within.

Felix was never the judgmental type, he didn’t care if you brought a lot of friends over or the occasional hook up you’d have, he would just turn a blind eye to most of those things. You didn’t think it’d ever impact the way you both interacted but unfortunately after a while things have started to get a bit awkward between you. He’s been awfully more quiet these days and whenever you two would walk by in passing he could barely even look at you. Any time he did, it was if he’d seen a ghost or something— the way his face went pale from being drained of all color and would immediately hurry back into his room.

You don’t know what’s up with him but the more he’s been treating you this way the more you feel like he doesn’t seem to like you very much anymore. This weekend you plan to have a quick chat with him about everything and to clear up some potential misunderstandings. Little do you know the real reason why he’s been keeping his distance from afar…

God he feels like such a creep for eavesdropping on you having sex with someone else right now.

It wasn’t supposed to end up this way, he simply walked past your door without a second thought but as he came closer he heard what is presumably you moaning out another guy’s name. That’s when it piques his curiosity to listen further, he’s only heard this type of stuff from watching porn but it’s a whole different experience when in real life. He should feel more than embarrassed about doing this, ashamed for invading his roommates privacy in such a horrid way but he doesn’t move. Only continuing to press his ear up against the mahogany door, getting a clearer sound of your wanton moans, feeling something shift.. a familiar throbbing sensation causes the sudden constriction in his pants.

He’s far too gone to even think about stopping at this point, subconsciously dragging his hand further down as he comes in contact with his hardened cock. All he could hear was skin slapping, imagining you bent over the bed while taking it from behind, arching your back as you pant louder for them to go faster and faster. Felix continues to feel himself through the constraints of his clothing but it wasn’t enough for him, it wasn’t enough to alleviate the discomfort down there. So he ends up going back to his room to finish his little fap sesh, ridding himself of everything, t-shirt, sweats, boxers— ready to finish what he accidentally started.

“___, please..” he’d stir in his bed, going to town on his cock as he pumps his hand around it, thinking about you on top of him. “Noona.. m’so close…” he whimpers out desperately, feeling so overly sensitive that his body’s buzzing with pleasure.

Felix was so overwhelmed in his thoughts he barely noticed the precum leaking out and spilling around his small hand, his eyes were completely shut and zoned out in utter bliss. He wishes nothing more than to have you doing this to him instead, wondering what it’s like to have a girl as hot as you jerk his cock for him, he’s never experienced what it’s like but he’d want you to be his first if he ever does. It frustrates him that he can’t have you in the same way those other guys do, they’re more experienced and can please you better than he could.

One thing he knows now is that he’ll never be able to look at you normally again after doing all of this.

Things just couldn’t get any worse for him at this point. He’s now found a pair of your underwear which has mistakenly ended up in his laundry somehow. He didn’t do know what to do … if he tells you it accidentally got mixed in with his stuff then you’ll probably accuse him of stealing them as an excuse. Plus he didn’t want to face the embarrassment of even handing these back to you. It was a really pretty pair too, a red lace thong with black trim and a cute satin bow on the front. He wonders how your ass would look in these panties, secretly getting so jealous of all your hook ups and how they’ve all got to see you naked.

Felix decides the best course of action is to quickly return them in your room before you finish showering. He’ll simply sneak into your room, put them back in your underwear drawer, and he won’t have to think about it again, this was going to be the easiest plan of execution. Boy could he have been any more wrong. He couldn’t find which drawer they were supposed to be in, essentially wasting more and more time trying to find where to stash them. He honestly could’ve hid them anywhere but he was paranoid about that seeming suspicious too. Then he just considers possibly keeping them for himself. Playing with the fabric in his hands as he thinks of the idea to jerk his cock with your underwear wrapped around it. If only you knew the things he wanted you to do to him..

“What’re you doing in my room Lixie?” You question your roommate’s intentions as you walk in from getting out in the shower. You catch him holding something in his hands but quickly stuffs the object away in his pockets.

Fuck he’s totally screwed. There’s no going back from this now.

“Uh- nothing! I was just about to leave actually-” just as he attempts to make a run for it, he turns around and comes face to face with you in just a bath towel.

He’s legitimately gone crazy now, stopping dead in his tracks to gawk at your beauty. You exude high levels of sex appeal without even trying, it’s almost intimidating being in the same room as you. Felix thought you look absolutely gorgeous in your natural state, noticing the fresh water droplets still glistening on your skin and wet strands of hair sticking to your face. He really wants to know what’s underneath that singular layer, sensing another uncomfortable situation down there.

“Don’t be silly Lix, you looked like you were looking for something. What’re you holding?” You continue asking but he refuses to give any solid answers, telling you over and over how it’s “nothing” and he wasn’t lying but something didn’t seem right about his behavior.

You saw he put something in his pocket from earlier, so without a second thought you reach into that same pocket to grab whatever was in there. Everything happened so fast Felix didn’t even have time to process what was going on, mortified when he sees you pulling out a pair of your underwear from his sweatpants.

“Why do you have these?” Your expression was stone cold, you genuinely looked pissed off and it was starting to frighten him. He didn’t think you’d actually be upset about this but now he wishes he had just hid it somewhere randomly.

“It’s not what it looks like ___, you’ve got the wrong idea!”

“No I definitely know what’s going on here. Didn’t ever really take you as the type to be such a perv,” you chuckle at his horrible attempt in making any excuses. Coming closer to him now, placing both palms on his shoulders, you get all the way up to his ear and whisper, “I like perverts though ‘cause I’m one too.”

His face burned a crimson shade, growing flustered at your sudden dirty confession. The only thing he could do was gulp out of nervousness, even more worried if you discover the massive hard on he’s sporting in his pants. A subtle smirk forms onto your lips, debating where you should kiss and mark first but you want to take your time with someone like Felix— he’s too pretty not to. You lightly brush your lips against his neck, as if he’s so fragile and delicate, making him tremble from the sudden cool air you blow against his skin.

Felix felt his heart beating out of his chest, internally panicking at what’s soon to come. It’s not like he didn’t want any of this to happen, he’s just worried out his mind and tends to overthink everything. Those anxious thoughts were soon adjourned with a pair of soft lips against his trembling ones, eyes bulging out from the sudden shock of your actions. He stood there awkwardly for a bit as he’s never kissed someone before, he doesn’t know how he should react but he mimics your movements. You deepen the kiss even further, gently caressing the side of his face into your palm— his body was so stiff it made you feel self conscious about you making the first move. He was kissing you back but it didn’t feel like there was any emotion behind it, everything he’s doing seems so robotic and manufactured. You’re starting to think he may not actually be enjoying this.

“Something wrong?” You cautiously pull away to voice concern, regretting everything if he’s uncomfortable by your advances.

He mentally curses himself, feeling more upset at you thinking you’re the problem. “N-no… you’re perfect. This is perfect, it’s just- I’ve never done it before..” His voice trails off towards the end, embarrassed by his lack of experience.

“You’ve never had sex before?” You blink in confusion, it was seemingly impossible for someone as attractive as Felix to have never had a single sexual encounter in his life. However, you’d be more than happy to change that.

“No.” He shook his head, frowning at his sad revelation that he’s a 23 year old virgin.

“Awee, s’cute. I get to be your first!” You couldn’t help but find that to be so adorable, you haven’t took someone’s virginity since freshman year of college, it excites you all over again.

He’s seemingly surprised by the way you respond, “You’re not put off by that?” Most girls in your position wouldn’t want to deal with someone like him. He needs to be trained, taught exactly how to please a woman the way she needs to— which you’re more than capable of doing.

“No, why would I be?” It’s not everyday you hear a guy as handsome as Felix say that they’re a virgin, it intrigues you in some capacity. You want him to become your cute little plaything, someone only you can corrupt exactly the way you want.

“So you’ve never pleasured another girl before? Like not even fingering?” You delve deeper with more questions, wanting to know everything he’s done or hasn’t.

He shook his head yet again, “no, I’ve never done anything.”

This was unlike anything you’ve seen before, at least the other guys you knew who were virgins had actually done a few other things but this was new for you. The fact he was able to confide in you with something so personal made you want to be his first so badly. Maybe this was perfect— you were way more experienced than him so you can show him the ropes, how it’s really done. You express to him that it’s okay he was inexperienced, it’s nothing to be ashamed of and he’s in good hands now.

“What if I don’t do it right?” Felix looks so worried, his adam’s apple bobbed each time he nervously swallowed.

“You won’t because I’m here,” you reassure him by placing an affectionate hand on his shoulder, flashing a warm smile. “I’ll show you how to, don’t be shy it’s fine baby. Just lye back on the bed and I’ll take care of you pretty.”

He did everything he was told, all instructed by you. Lying down on the bed with his back against your pink silk pillow, the black tee he wore slightly rode up, causing you to get a glimpse of his tummy. It was too cute not to touch, your nimble fingers travel up his waist to raise his shirt higher, feeling up his lower body.

Felix felt so powerless as you hover over his frame, both your legs on either side of his, enclosing him in such a tight space. Taking slow, deep exhales, he grows more tense as you slide your hands north, it’s a whole new sensation he’s never felt before. His breath hitched at you suddenly coming in contact with his nipple, brushing over it ever so slightly to elicit a subtle reaction. You love how sensitive he’s become to any minor touch you provide, feeling your arousal leak further down to your thighs as you think of turning him into your personal slut.

“Should I take this off?” You suddenly propose an idea, referring to the bath towel that was hanging on you by a thread. It was seemingly already coming undone as you didn’t tie the front properly, he was able to get a good view of your chest peaking out at the top.

“Mhmm..” Felix hums in sexual frustration, unable to get a clear word or sentence out in any possible way.

You oblige, biting your lip seductively at him as you reach to untie the loose knot, slowly prying the towel off your body that’s now completely dry. “Let’s start off with something easy,” you carefully suggest, traveling your hands down to the band of his gray joggers, lightly tugging them down to reveal his boxer briefs.

The tiny, blond, freckled boy is staring up at you with his big bambi eyes, he can’t believe there’s a naked girl on top of him while he’s still partially fully clothed. All the blood surges to his cock, making him so painfully hard he’s never been so desperate for someone to touch him in his life. Hips bucking into nothing as he humps the air for any stimulation, you couldn’t prevent the giggle that escaped your mouth. Finding him to be so utterly pathetic.

You lean in to kiss him again, never quite getting enough of the yummy taste of him. Tracing your index finger over the outline of his bulge, you feel him pulse underneath as you keep teasing him with more light touches. He could feel you smiling into the kiss, biting down on his lower lip as your free hand gets tangled in his platinum locks. You eventually sprung his cock freely out the constraints of his briefs, watching it stick straight up from being so unbelievably hard. His cock was gorgeous, about 6 inches in length and 2.5” thick, his tip was an angry, ruby red but the rest a blush pink color. Your fingers laced around his shaft, getting closer to spit directly on it before giving him a few moderate pumps. Felix threw his head back slightly, gripping the bedsheets in utmost pleasure, whimpering loudly as he ruts his hips to match the movements of your hand. Unable to hold back from just how good you’re making him feel he calls your name out again and again. His deep voice only gets raspier, a beautifully stark contrast to his angelic face being stuck in euphoria. As your pace increases he only gets more vocal, panting heavily while begging to cum as his jaw slacks wide open. Flashes of white invade his vision, everything around him becomes to fade into a blur. That’s when it all gets abruptly ripped away from him, soon as your hand withdraws his cock he opens his eyes again. His lips quivered in devastation, feeling as though he could cry from this.

“W-why’d you stop?” He whines out of frustration, wanting so badly to cum all over your hand.

The sight of him made you so incredibly turned on. Obsessed with the mess you’ve created so far, his flushed, rosy cheeks with drool seeping down his chin, his precum has leaked out everywhere.

You don’t answer, only chuckling at his misery. It’s fun to play with him, see how far you can push him in getting to do whatever you want.

“Want me to suck your cock, hmm? Say pretty please and I’ll make you feel so good.” Never breaking eye contact as you say it, getting off on the fact you have all the control and he’s totally helpless in your hold.

Felix is reluctant to speak at first, but he chokes up the courage to stutter out a plea, “P-pretty please.. Noona please...” lifting his hips just to feel something— you aggressively force them back down with your hand.

A devilish smirk forms across your face, you didn’t know he was the type to call you that. You want to reward him even more but only if he can be good and does everything exactly your way.

“Don’t cum ‘til I say you can. Got it?” You flash a look that’s anything but merciful, getting a rush from this dominant role you happen to take on surprisingly well.

He nods obediently, understanding what the consequences may be if he doesn’t listen. He wants to try his best to please you in any way he can, it’s the least he can do when you’re the one doing most of the work.

Wrapping your lips around his tip, you feel him twitch instantly inside your mouth, opening just a bit to swirl your tongue along his member. His cock feels slightly sore from being edged once before, gasping when he feels the plushness of your lips on him. Sinking further down, you fully take his length in your mouth now, head bobbing up and down to get the entirety of his cock down your throat. Felix couldn’t move, think, let alone breathe properly— he’s so far gone that the only thing consuming his mind is you.

“Like getting your cock sucked baby?” You coo, bringing your hand to gently caress his balls, making him cry out even more.

He only frantically nods in response, too weak and too lost in the feeling to speak, “Mmm…” he mumbles, he’s so close but he can’t cum, he has to resist the urge but it’s so difficult. There’s no way he’s going to be able to keep this up for much longer.

“Use your words Lixie,” suddenly pulling away from his balls, “or else I’m going to stop again.”

He’s back to being whiny again, not wanting to be edged so cruelly like last time, he finally chokes out a reply, “Y-yes.. I love it.”

You really love the way he sounds, you could listen to him like this all day. Back to what you were doing previously, your mouth completely takes him in, lashes fluttering up at him while you’re doing the most unholy act there is. His brain goes fuzzy as he can’t get over how amazing this feels, broken moans escaping his throat from the warmth of your tongue enveloping his cock. Humming around him in response to his constant throbbing, Felix hisses from the vibrations throughout his body. He’s trembling with so many nerves hitting all once, it’s all so new to him; this might just be the most intense feeling he’s ever had.

“Nggh… gonna cum- can’t hold it anymore..” he meekly warns, tears roll down his face as it begins to be too much for him to bear.

You decide to let him this time, feeling a little sense of sympathy for a cutie pie like him. There’s always next time you can edge him and break him down until he babbles and cries even harder. Your core aches just thinking about all the fantasies you’ll bring to life soon, it’ll never be a boring day from now on.

“Go ahead baby, cum in my mouth,” you urge him to finish by going faster, sucking him off like your life depends on it.

He can feel the coil in his stomach tightening, pushing him to the edge as he’s thrashing around the bed, moaning and crying out all types of profanities. The last words he spoke before he came was pure gibberish, too busy focusing on his release shooting out— he lulls his head back into the pillow from exhaustion. He doesn’t think he’s ever came that hard in his entire life. His eyes rolled back as you greedily swallow his cum, still continuing to suck like he wasn’t mewling for you to stop. More of his load comes out as you keep going, milking every last drop of him until he’s all drained out and empty.

Finally letting go of his cock, you pull away as you make a loud ‘pop’ with your mouth, a thin string of saliva still connecting you to his crotch.

“You did so good for me Lixie,” you praise sweetly, coming up to kiss his pouty lips after you’d just sucked him dry. He kisses back immediately, getting a taste of his release on your tongue, “c’mere puppy,” you motion him to come along once you pull away.

He’s not sure what you have in mind but he follows anyway, blindly letting you boss him around at this point. Felix enjoys every second of it though, you may have unlocked something he never knew he needed.

Your hands run over his shoulders, “How ‘bout we run you a bath, yeah?” Your voice is as low and gentle as a whisper, sounding as though you didn’t just do those unspeakable things minutes ago. He’s more at ease you’ve turned into a sweeter, more compassionate version of yourself now, “I think my precious baby deserves it.”

- 完 ︎♡︎

#felix smut #felix x female reader #felix x reader #skz smut #skz x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids x female reader #skz x female reader #felix scenarios #sub!felix #felix drabbles #skz drabbles #skz scenarios #skz imagines #felix imagines #skz fluff #lee felix smut #lee felix x reader

[zzencat]

Your Person’s Qualities (SFW) - Timeless⏳

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Choose from left to right. Applicable to current or future lovers. Very prone to change—could be a temporary relationship.

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Pile 1.

It seems like this person is really into simple people or things. They could even be simple themselves. Old-school person or love? I saw apple picking. Maybe your person walks with their hands in their pockets often. A very chill and friendly person. Enjoys the presence of others, but is completely content in solitude. Enjoys walks in nature. I’m picturing the type to walk through a vacant Asian street market alone out of curiosity. Does this person wear plaid by any chance? Hair on the lighter side—light brown or generally, brunette? Or a ginger. Hairy arms. Someone of European descent is very heavy. This person can be prone to facial hair. Seems very balanced and in touch with their emotions. May be good at planning. Detail-oriented. Helps others without a second doubt, even to a fault, but they don’t mind; the type to shrug it off and won’t think much of it, hands back in pockets, if the help-ee didn’t thank them. Doesn’t dwell too long on problems and probably not the groveling type. This person seems perfectly content with who they are, what they have, and what they’re doing. However, this person may be…too nice? Like boring? Like too nice, too reserved, too forgiving? And the jokes are on the kinder, much, MUCH cheesier side. If you like this though, might be your person fr. Vanilla kind of person (in every meaning of the word), but nonjudgmental and ready to learn more. Also, very platonic vibes…maybe you started out as friends, initially thinking they weren’t your type at all, because perhaps you prefer someone more wild or impulsive, but you may slowly start to fall for them, especially noticing the little acts that they do for others.

Points of Interest: rain, jungle kind of smell, damp, wet grounds/roads, lanterns, dusk, one big red apple (temptation maybe?), rolled up sleeves, plaid, one food stall still open, hands in pockets, alleyway, no specific numbers.

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Pile 2.

Giving hook-up vibes. Probably parties a lot. Are they short? Or average height? If it’s a guy, I’m getting 5’8. Not that mysterious; they can be awkward as hell or don’t know how to continue a conversation without steering it into NSFW territory. A drink could help them relax with hitting people up. Could meet or could’ve met this person at a party and they want to stay in contact. Same school? Don’t expect too much out of this interaction because they seem very emotionally unavailable. Misunderstood a lot in childhood. Lonely. More timid than you’d expect but does what they can. You somewhat stand out to them out of the rest. Probably looks at you as someone of more to offer (like real love or an actual relationship) but is still scared of committing and it’s not ending soon. I think you feel it too, like there could be a potential connection, but either they’re too scared to reach out for something more or their ego is a shield that protects them from looking weak. Likely has a conflicting relationship with their parents (not being around emotionally or too busy to sit down and have a real conversation with them.) Definitely a lot of hesitancy, maybe from both sides. Maybe you don’t want to get hurt either. Uncertainty about the future, about them, about what relationship this could evolve into. “Do they like me or not?” type of frustration. This pile in general feels a lot less mature and figured out than Pile 1. You could both be pretty young and very focused on the present, or have an immature, naive mindset. Understatement of the year: Commitment would take a lot of time, effort, and tears from both sides, especially from your person (because they are so scared.) One or both of you could be used to acting nonchalant about things, or that something’s not bothering you, but it really does.

Points of interest: masc figure not much taller than fem figure, baggy jeans(?), junkie vibes, neglectful parents, too much time on their hands, image issues, not feeling good enough, “just walk away”, “it’ll never happen again”, trying to make someone jealous, “whatever”, lots of effort for no reason or no progression, back and forth, selfishness, high skirts, seduction, platform shoes/heels, chains, accessories, trying to look cooler than they actually are.

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Pile 3.

Ambivert? Likes taking walks at sunset, holding hands. Trying to get out there more. A very shy person inside, reserved at home. Round glasses? Struggles with a bit of social anxiety, fidgeting, or stutters. Enthusiastic. People pleaser, nice, quick to do things when told. Could be sassy at times or have quick comebacks. Dramatic. Doesn’t like to appear hurt in front of people. Sensitive inside. Suppresses sad feelings or tries to ignore trauma/triggers. Plays off struggles, self-deprecation. Maybe have a large group of friends, in a lot of clubs or doing well academically to impress parents or distract them from negative feelings. Knows how to talk to girls; may even have a lot of female friends/female influences. If you are someone who gets jealous easily, this might annoy you a bit. Can get really awkward if talking about trauma or mental health is brought up. Probably romantically prefers someone with more boy-ish, masculine qualities/personality—or someone that doesn’t care about what others think and pursues what they want. This person probably also likes loud people, extroverts, go-getters, daredevils, prone to anger, or people who pressure them into doing something risky.

Points of Interest: *gasps dramatically*, “At least I’m better than you at [….]”, tense, “it’s fine. I really don’t mind!”, isfj, esfj, estp, lies, secret nerd, excitement, “it’s what society wants”, fake friends, insecure, excuses, “I’ll go if you go”, everything has to be perfect.

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**Teddy Note: Feedback is very much appreciated as it will help me hone my intuition and become as close to accurate as possible as a WIP reader! Let me know if it resonates with you, and don’t forget to leave what doesn’t! I will only do these in a well-balanced energy. Thank you for reading :)

#daily tarot #pac tarot #tarot reading #tarotblr #pick a pile #pick a card #tarot

[theambitiouswoman]

SELF TALK. Replacing the NEGATIVE things we say to ourselves with POSITIVE words 🦄💜✨✨

When we say bad things about ourselves, our minds and bodies pay attention and start believing those things. It's like a cycle. When we keep telling ourselves we're not good enough or can't do things, our minds start thinking it's true. These bad thoughts can make us act in ways that match what we believe, like avoiding things because we think we'll fail. Over time, our brain gets used to these thoughts and they become a regular part of how we see ourselves.

But if we say good things to ourselves, it can be really helpful. When we're kind in how we talk to ourselves, it can make us feel better and stronger. It's like giving ourselves a little boost of confidence. When we're positive, we can handle problems better and feel less stressed. When we believe good things about ourselves, we might do better in different situations. So it's important to notice how we talk to ourselves and try to say nice things, even if we don't always feel that way.

Negative: "I always mess things up." Positive: "I sometimes make mistakes, but I also learn from them."

Negative: "I'm so stupid." Positive: "I'm smart and capable; everyone makes errors."

Negative: "I can't do this; it's too hard." Positive: "I can handle challenges with effort and perseverance."

Negative: "I'll never succeed in anything." Positive: "I have the potential to achieve my goals through hard work."

Negative: "Nobody likes me." Positive: "I have people who care about me and value my company."

Negative: "I'm a failure." Positive: "I've achieved many things and will continue to grow."

Negative: "I'm not good enough." Positive: "I am enough just as I am, and I'm constantly improving."

Negative: "I'm a burden to others." Positive: "My presence and contributions make a positive impact."

Negative: "I always mess up social situations." Positive: "I can connect with others and enjoy social interactions."

Negative: "I'll never get over this." Positive: "I can heal and move forward from difficult situations."

Negative: "I'm so ugly." Positive: "I am unique and have qualities that make me attractive."

Negative: "I'll never be as good as them." Positive: "I have my own strengths and talents that are valuable."

Negative: "I'm a loser." Positive: "I have the courage to try and the ability to succeed."

Negative: "I'm always so awkward." Positive: "I am learning and growing in social interactions."

Negative: "I can't handle criticism." Positive: "I can learn from feedback and use it to improve."

Negative: "I'm too lazy to accomplish anything." Positive: "I have the energy and determination to achieve my goals."

Negative: "I'll never be happy." Positive: "I can find joy and contentment in the little things."

Negative: "I'm a failure as a parent/friend/partner." Positive: "I care and do my best to support those around me."

Negative: "I'm too old/young to do that." Positive: "Age doesn't define my ability to pursue my passions."

Negative: "I don't deserve good things." Positive: "I am worthy of happiness, success, and positive experiences."

Negative: "I'm a failure because I haven't achieved enough." Positive: "I'm on my own path of growth and accomplishments."

Negative: "I can't handle stress." Positive: "I am resilient and can manage stress with effective strategies."

Negative: "I'll never be as talented as others." Positive: "I have unique talents that make me special."

Negative: "I'm so clumsy." Positive: "I am improving my coordination and skills."

Negative: "I'm too shy to make friends." Positive: "I have qualities that others appreciate and I can connect with people."

Negative: "I'm not good at anything." Positive: "I have strengths and abilities that I can develop."

Negative: "I'm a burden on my family." Positive: "My family supports me and we help each other."

Negative: "I'll probably fail, so why bother trying?" Positive: "I have the courage to take on challenges and learn from them."

Negative: "I can't trust anyone; people always let me down." Positive: "I can build meaningful and trustworthy relationships."

Negative: "I'll never find love." Positive: "I am deserving of love and can create meaningful connections."

Negative: "I'm not creative at all." Positive: "I can express my creativity in different ways."

Negative: "I'll never be able to speak in public." Positive: "I can develop my public speaking skills with practice."

Negative: "I don't deserve success." Positive: "I am capable of achieving success through hard work."

Negative: "I'm so disorganized." Positive: "I can improve my organization skills with time."

Negative: "I'll never be happy with my body." Positive: "I can make healthy choices and appreciate my body."

#self talk #self development #self esteem #self worth #self help #self improvement #self love #personal improvement #personal growth #personal development #positive mindset #think positive #positive quotes #affirmations #law of manifestation #how to manifest #manifesation

[hier--soir]

under the night | one

summary: joel miller is a grump, but he likes to think old dogs can be taught new tricks pairing: joel miller x f!reader, set in jackson after the end of tlou part I warnings/tags: [18+ only, minors dni] language, nightmares, discussions of sex, slow-ish burn, age gap [20ish years], grumpy!joel, potential jealousy word count: 7.3k series masterlist | main masterlist a/n: first time i've posted any of my own stuff in ages, but i've been loving writing for joel so thought i'd share!

Wyoming was a state you had never visited before the outbreak, so it was strange that 22 years on, it had become your home. It was Summer when you and Cal arrived in Jackson, and six months on, you could feel Winter’s grip steadily descending upon the town. The area seemed to be cloudy year-round, but the way the air had begun to chill as of late was something you’d not quite experienced before. Cold as it was, living there was quiet, and peaceful.

The settlement was led by a strong woman named Maria, and her husband Tommy, who had welcomed you and Cal with a wary kindness. Offered you safety, and a place to live, in exchange for hard work and your dedication to supporting the community. After so many years travelling the barren, infected country alone, the pair of you were awkward, and fumbled your way through meeting so many new people.

Jackson wasn’t the first place you’d tried to settle down in. Over the span of a decade, you’d crossed the country what felt like twice over, relying solely on each other, but never quite feeling like anywhere was home except for when you were alone together. This place proved you wrong though – the people proved you wrong. They were self-sufficient here, a working community, where everyone was equal, and the leaders were kind, and trustworthy; two characteristics that you and Cal hadn’t encountered in other people in a long time.

The home Maria and Tommy provided you was modest, and a fixer-upper if you had ever seen one. God, the day they’d arrived, you’d let out an exhausted laugh when Tommy pulled on the knob of the front door, and it cracked off its hinges.

“Nothing a good screw won’t fix,” Cal had chuckled, wanting to appear optimistic in front of Tommy.

Regardless of the state of the place, you and Cal made it your home in quick work. Cal made friends quickly, the way he always had. He was tall and gangly; all long limbs and sandy blonde hair, and he had a crooked toothed smile that endeared people to him almost instantly. You, on the other hand, were blunt, your body lean and strong as a result of years of physical exertion, and you were always the more stubborn of the two. You were a perfect dichotomy beside each other; sweet and salty. Stony, and withdrawn, you had always used your closest friend as a crutch during rare social interactions. You were familiar with all of the violence, and pain that came with the world, and as you grew up, had become so delightfully unsure when it came to being shown warmth.

Maria took you under her wing, introducing you to the people at the stables you would be working alongside, and encouraging you to find solace in the group of warriors that made up the women of Jackson. For the most part, people were kind and welcoming. With time, they didn’t pause and stare when you walked along the street, unsure of the newcomers.

People shared stories about others who had come through Jackson before you and Cal, and about the histories of those who still lived there. Sometimes, as you sat on the porch of the house, you’d watch people walk by, share a polite wave, and try to pin the stories to the faces you were seeing.

“I met Tommy’s brother today,” Cal started one evening. “Bit of a prick.”

Your eyebrow raised slightly, amused that someone could piss off one of the more jovial people you’d ever known. “What’s wrong with him, was he wearing double denim?”

Cal lifted his bowl of soup to his mouth and slurped down the last few drops. Wiping his mouth messily, he shook his head. “I don’t know about that guy. Remember Tommy told us about him?” You did remember Tommy vaguely mentioning that his brother had arrived on the settlement a year or so before you and Cal arrived.

“He keeps to himself for the most part,” Tommy had jested, his eyes glazing over for a moment as he thought of his brother. “But he’s a goodin, does good work for this town.”

“Whatever,” Cal changed his tune. “I shouldn’t let it bother me, he was just rude is all. Called me newbie twice, even though he knows my name. Seems to like being a big dog around here.”

You hummed to show you were still listening, tearing off a piece of bread and stuffing it in your mouth. “Seems only fair that if Tommy is kind, his brother would’ve turned out an ass. Isn’t that how we work?” He snorted out a laugh, and that was the last you spoke of it.

It wasn’t for another week or so until you met the man yourself. It’d been a long day spent at the stables, basking in the beating sun while working alongside a few others. The horses were huge creatures, and it took you a while to get used to their nature. It’d been so long since an animal hadn’t been a threat to you, but a few weeks on, and you’d found yourself ending the workdays by taking a ride around on your favourite mare Dot.

You and Cal’s home was on the opposite side of town, and on your walk through you passed faces that had become familiar. You small talked and smiled until your jaw ached, and by the time you bumped into him, you’d already reached your pleasantry quota for the day.

He had a bag of vegetables hung over his shoulder in a linen sack, and was making quiet conversation with his brother, when you walked by.

Tommy called out your name, waving you over to them. Your feet and shoulders ached, but you slapped a half smile on your face as you sidled up to the pair. “I’d been hoping to catch you, Maria’s wondering when you’re free for dinner this week.”

“Oh, whenever she wants me,” you nodded, chest warming in an odd way at the invitation. Your gaze flitted curiously to the tall man standing beside Tommy. You’d seem him around before, many times actually, but never realised he was the infamous brother.

Oftentimes, you’d noticed him because, 7 times out of 10, the same young girl would be plodding along beside him, chattering away incessantly. You had assumed they were a father and daughter on those occasions, but now understanding this was Joel, you knew better. Cal had explained it to you when he found out, about how Tommy’s brother had a kid living with him, but it wasn’t his. The idea of it didn’t seem too strange to you, considering most of the people living in Jackson were found families, not blood. 

He was tall, taller than Tommy, with a more wrinkled and tanned face. Dark hair with streaks of grey, and a short beard. Obviously. the older brother. Thicker than Tommy too, the invasive thought flashed through your mind, as your eyes glanced over his arms.

Ignorant to your curious eyeballing, Joel jerked his head in your direction, and asked, “The other newbie?” He had a distinctly husky Texan drawl, and his voice was deep, as if he spoke from the very depths of his stomach.

“Yeah,” Tommy nodded, and introduced the two of you with a smile. “She’s doing some great work for us round the stables, the horses have taken a good liking to her already.”

You shared a polite nod and held out your hand for greeting. Joel barely met your eyes, before gripping your hand once. One firm shake, before dropping it like it stung him. You thought you noticed him even wipe his hand off on his jeans. Rude motherfucker.

He didn’t say anymore, and seemed to just wait for you to go so he could continue his conversation from before you showed up.

“Well,” you said. “I’ll get out of your hair boys. Be good.” A short laugh fell from Tommy’s mouth, and you thought you caught a surprised expression on Joel’s face as you turned and continued walking in the direction of home.

You crossed paths a few more times that Summer, but always briefly. He constantly had somewhere to be, or a job he was on his way to completing – never without an excuse to cut a conversation with you short. You didn’t particularly mind his disinterest in small talk. In fact, you found it somewhat refreshing after a few interactions with him. Finally, one other person in this town who wasn’t friendly, or willing to fake interest in you just because you were new in town.

One day you and Cal went on a ride along with Tommy as he patrolled the area surrounding the settlement. Nothing serious, just him showing you both around the area, telling you about what abnormalities he kept an eye out for when he went out of the safety of the gates.

The trio had been out for an hour or so before a rustle in the woods a hundred metres back caught their attention. Your hackles rose, and you reached for the gun strapped to your hip instinctively, prepared to see an infected emerge from the brush. But Joel Miller rode up to your group quickly, a deep scowl settling on his face when he spotted his brother’s company.

“What’s wrong?” Tommy asked his brother.

“Maria wants you back home,” he said gruffly. “Said it’s getting late; said if you’re not back in time for dinner she’ll lock your ass out.” His gaze twitched quickly over to you and Cal, who were watching him curiously. “Why are the newbies with you?”

Joel wasn’t afraid to talk about you two as if you weren’t there, didn’t care how it came across, and you understood this was probably why some people in Jackson weren’t very fond of him.

“Just showing them the area, they oughta know what we get up to out here every day,” Tommy said amiably. “The real question is, why are you doin’ my wife’s bidding?”

He huffed in response, shaking his head ever so slightly. “Maria’s the boss,” is all he said, before gripping the reins and encouraging his horse to take off in the direction he came from. When it was just the three of you again, you felt your shoulders sag, and let out a low whistle, as if to say, jeez, lighten up.

Not a week later, Cal told you, “His face has the same thing yours has, you know.” You were sharing lunch outside the stables, when Joel had shown up to take one of the horses for a patrol.

“What the fuck does that mean?” you’d asked incredulously. He held his hands up in defence, coughing lightly around his mouthful of food.

“No, no, don’t bed mad,” he paused, laughing more. “But… c’mon, I couldn’t help but notice…”

“Notice what? Why the fuck can’t you finish your sentence.” You were impatient, and the sun was beating down on you, and Joel was only 10 metres away, saddling up.

“You both have this set of wrinkles in between your eyebrows,” he finally admitted, smirking. “I’d say it’s because you’ve both been frowning for the past twenty years straight, if I had to guess.” You relaxed the frown on your face instantly, making Cal laugh harder. A warmth rose in your face as you realised you’d attracted Joel’s attention, and he was glancing at you from across the grass.

“I don’t frown all the time,” you muttered under your breath, giving Joel a courteous nod goodbye as he rode out on the horse.

“Of course you don’t, sunshine, my mistake,” Cal had agreed sarcastically, waving a hand at Joel in farewell.

After that, whenever you saw him, your lips twitched as you noticed the wrinkle in the middle of his forehead, and you reminded yourself to relax your own. Not enough room in Jackson for two permanent frowns, you thought to yourself, and his takes the cake. ‘Grumpy’ was a good descriptor for him. On the rare occasion you saw him smile or laugh, it was when the girl was around.

You had noticed the way she’d tell him a joke and a begrudging smile would grace his face, only for him to cough, or reach up and place a hand over his mouth, to avoid anyone else taking notice. Of course, you would notice the girl grinning with glee at making her companion laugh. It was sweet. The fondness between them was palpable, and you had to fight the curiosity inside you that wondered what had brought them together.

When, at long last, you finally met Ellie, it all made sense. The girl was insufferably chatty with some precocious snark to boot, and she had an impressive attention to detail; a 5’4” spitfire with a mess of mousy brain hair. She was no bullshit, and you trusted her instantly.

“I was wondering when I’d meet the newbie I’d been hearing about,” Ellie had smirked, holding out a sweaty hand in greeting.   

“Sorry it took so long, everyone wants a piece of the me these days,” you feigned a sigh, smiling when the young girl laughed.

“Do you like it here?” she asked inquisitively, and you nodded. “I’ve seen you a few times, but you always seemed busy, or were with that other guy.” “Jackson is great, me and Cal are happy to be here,” you confided. “I’ve seen you round a lot too, with your-“ you cut yourself off before the word ‘father’ came out. “With Joel.”

“Oh, you know Joel!”

“No, not really,” you clarified quickly. “He pops up here and there… what a laugh that guy is.” For a moment you were worried the joke wouldn’t land, but when a squeaky laugh pealed out of Ellie’s mouth you relaxed, and laughed with her.

“You’re telling me!” the girl barked, shaking her head.

Through those first six months in Jackson, life slowly started to make sense again for you. For the first time since the outbreak happened all of those years ago, you found yourself with a proper home, and a community of people around you who you had come to know and respect.

But even with newfound light in your life, the darkness inside of you wasn’t going away quickly. Even a friendly place like Jackson couldn’t stop the nightmares that plagued you. After spending over a decade traversing the United States with Cal, seeing death and decay and infection firsthand, you had to train yourself to focus on the good.

When you passed by a group of kids on the street, you urged yourself not to see the faces of Cal’s late brothers, whom you grew up with. Had to fight the memories of the settlement not unlike Jackson that you spent years in, only to watch it burn to the ground. Not everything ends badly, you would whisper to yourself. People can be trusted.

As insistent as you were with opening yourself up to the light, the nightmares still came fast and hard. It was the same one, most nights. The same memory. In time, Cal had begun to sleep through you crying out for help in your sleep, after learning years ago that being woken up by him sometimes scared you just as much as the dream itself. Sometimes, solitude after an awful night was the only remedy.

You woke slick with sweat, your shirt sticking uncomfortably to your skin. Heart racing, you stumbled out of bed and gulped down some water in the kitchen. Through the light fog outside, a warm orange glow lit the street, as the sun rose slowly over the town. Thank god, you thought. Early, but not too early to rise without worrying Cal. You dressed slowly, limbs heavy with fatigue, and walked numbly toward the stables. Winter had crept into Jackson like a thief, and the morning’s icy cold breath licked at your hands and face, stealing all the warmth you had to offer.

A few of the horses startled awake when you arrived, and you soothed them quietly, your voice hoarse from crying only an hour prior.

“It’s just me,” you murmured, kissing Dot’s speckled nose.

A morning ride seemed a good way to wake up all of your senses, so you set to saddling up. But only a short while after your arrival at the stables, a sound outside made you start. A flash of the nightmare shot through your brain, and your heart stuttered. Footsteps, padding softly through the grass outside, could clearly be heard. Dot’s ears pricked up, and her large head swung toward the stable doors to watch. Although you had been sure you heard someone approaching, when he stepped into view, you still let out a yell of surprise. 

“Woah,” Joel held his hands out in alarm, eyes wide. “I didn’t expect anyone to be here.” His arms lowered as he recognised you, warily noting your defensive stance, positioned half behind Dot with tensed fists.

You didn’t say anything immediately, breathing heavily out of your mouth, and still trying to calm your racing heart. You watched each other from across the space, and he took a few slow steps inside. “I’m sorry I scared you,” he apologised genuinely, in a tone gentler than you’d ever heard him use.

You ignored his apology. “What’re you doing out here so early? The sun’s hardly up.”

An eyeroll. “I could ask you the same question.”

You contemplated lying, but exhaustion wore on you heavily, and you found yourself unable to think of a fib worthy of his time. “Bad dreams,” you settled on, not caring how childish it made you sound.

He nodded slowly, looking unsurprised by your admission. After a measured pause, he offered, “I get those too, sometimes.”

Your heart, which had only just slowed down, found itself beating out of time again, although you weren’t sure why. This was the longest conversation you and Joel had ever had, and by far the most private one – if you didn’t count the horses listening in. When you didn’t answer him quickly, his hand raised to scratch awkwardly against his beard. Not for the first time, you were hit with an unwelcome thought about how handsome he was.

“You look cold,” he changed the subject quickly, and with a down turned mouth. He was wearing a thick brown jacket, which made the thin jumper you were wearing look like a sheet of paper in comparison.

“Cal’s been borrowing my good jacket these days, since it’s gotten cold.”

Joel watched you speak, and it seemed like he didn’t how to respond. His hands settled on his hips, and he mumbled something under his breath that you missed. When you prompted him to repeat it, he just said, “You spend a lot of time with Dot.” You were happy to finally shift the topic of conversation away from yourself, and agreed. 

“Yeah well, Percy over there isn’t too fond of me,” you gestured behind you to a tall grey horse, who you had discovered months earlier would huff loudly and rear his head up whenever you stepped near him. In that respect, Percy reminded you somewhat of Joel when the two of you first met.

“Percy’s old, he’ll warm up to you with time,” he advised.

“I thought the saying goes that you can’t teach an old dog new tricks?”

A small huff of air escaped his mouth, and if you weren’t so sleepy, you would’ve sworn it was the start of a laugh. Quietly, he said, “I’d like to think that’s not true.”

It was the next morning, after you’d awoken from another nightmare, and stepped outside to head to the stables again, that you saw it. A gift, or maybe a token of understanding.

A large black jacket, folded neatly on your doormat.

Winter kicked in like a punch in the gut, but you decided you liked the festivities that the cold weather inspired in Jackson. Suddenly every morning your windows had a delicate layer of frost over them, hiding the view of the street, making every day a new surprise, waiting for you to discover when you finally stepped outside. It didn’t rain often, but you could sense how the clouds seemed to sag, and knew that snow wouldn’t be far around the corner. You wore Joel’s jacket most days, and appreciated how the cold made your face tinge red, so that when he spotted you in it, he wouldn’t notice you were blushing.

To celebrate the changing of the season, Maria had organised a bonfire night to bring the town together. She enticed you to come along with promises of mulled wine and live music, but the truth was that you had already promised Cal you’d go along.

“She is going to be theeeere,” Cal had sung dreamily from the kitchen, a week before. You had been lounging on the chair in your living space, drowsy from an impromptu afternoon nap, and it took you a moment to understand who he was talking about.

“Luisa?”

“Luisa,” he confirmed wistfully, sipping a cup of tea as he stepped into the room. “She invited us, and you have to come along, you know. I can’t go without my wingman.”

“If she invited you, you probably don’t need a wingman,” you laughed, but agreed to go nonetheless. It was sweet watching Cal talk about Luisa over the past few weeks, and watching his crush develop more every day that they spent time together. Not for a long time had either of you been romantically involved with someone, and it made your heart sing for him. Of course, you would go. For Cal, you’d probably go anywhere. 

Jackson was a hub of excitement when the day finally rolled around. During your shift at the stables, the women you worked with chatted keenly about wanting to dance to live music, and it caused a bubble of excitement to form in your own chest. It had been so long since you’d seen a musical instrument, let alone seen someone play one with any skill. On your walk home, people were toting around decorations, headed towards a big open dirt field, where you knew a set up effort had already begun. You passed Joel’s place halfway through town and smiled upon spotting him on his porch, rugged up and chatting away with Tommy and Ellie.

Since that morning in the barn, you and Joel had settled into a sort of comfortable ease with one another. There was less rigidity when you spoke; less apprehension when it came to sharing things about yourselves, and your days. Being around him became a source of calm, rather than tension. You never sought him out for conversation, but you found yourself quietly elated when he appeared on one of your aimless walks, or passed by the stables unexpectedly and chatted to you while you worked.

The more you came to learn about him in those quiet moments, the more you appreciated him. You felt that you had formed a kind of mutual understanding between you; that you wanted the same things. A shared desire to enjoy this quiet life that neither of you felt you deserved, but were both lucky enough to have fall into your laps.  It was true that you hadn’t made friends there the way Cal had – people gravitated towards his energy naturally. But with Joel, you felt understood.

“Well don’t you lot look cosy,” you called from the street, and were met with a round of friendly waves. “What’s on the menu?” you pointed at the mugs they all gripped, eyeing the hot steam that rose out of them.

“Just a second.” Joel disappeared inside for a few minutes, before returning with a cup of coffee for you. You leaned against the banister and sipped at the hot liquid greedily, nodding in appreciation.

“How are you doing?” Tommy asked you genuinely. You liked the sweet crow’s feet that appeared next to his eyes when he smiled. You chatted absently about work and patrols, and how one of the families in town were expecting a new baby in a few months, before finally the topic of the bonfire came up.

“Oh, you’re coming right?” Ellie pondered eagerly, sitting up in her chair.

“Only if you’ll be there, kid.” Her face lit up at this, grinning smugly at Joel and Tommy. You could feel Joel’s eyes on you, but held your gaze steadfast on Ellie. It felt like your skin burned a little when he was looking at you – you could always sense his stare.

“And Cal too?” Ellie asked. She always asked you about Cal, and you’d just come to understand that she liked to be in the loop about most things. She held that teenage curiosity to know about everyone, and all their comings and goings.

“Yes,” you smirked conspiratorially. “He mentioned wanting to see Luisa.” The younger girl raised her eyebrows suggestively, garnering a chuckle from even Tommy.

“Can you believe,” Ellie suddenly chuckled out, sticking out a hand and placing it on Joel’s shoulder. “That Joel thought you and Cal were married or something?”

As you and Tommy laughed, you thought you noticed Joel gently kick his boot against Ellie’s shin, as if to say, shut the hell up kid. He didn’t quite meet your eye when you looked at him, and appeared somewhat embarrassed as he turned to glare at Ellie.

“Well, he wouldn’t be the first to think that,” you conceded. “With the amount of years we’ve known each other, we might as well be married at this point.”

Joel looked at you properly then, his curiosity getting the better of him. Tommy asked the question that seemed to be on his lips.

“Remind me how many years you’ve been together? I can’t remember what you told me all those months ago.”

“We’ve known each other for something like two or three decades.”

Ellie let out a low whistle, eyes wide just thinking about that many years. She was so young, and you felt a quick pang in your heart to remember it.

You drained the last of your coffee, and placed the mug softly into Joel’s outstretched hand before stepping off the porch. “Speaking of the old ball and chain, I’d better get home to make sure he hasn’t burned the place down in my absence.”

“See you tonight,” Joel shared a half smile, and you nodded, before turning and heading in the direction of home. As you walked, you listened to their conversation start back up again.  “Oh kiddo, I almost forgot. Tommy told me this joke yesterday that reminded me of you. You’re gonna love this…” And then you were too far gone to hear the rest.

After giving Cal advice on which shirt to wear, the pair of you made your way toward the field where the party was being held. He was adamant you had to arrive casually late, so that he didn’t seem too eager. You went along with his ideas amiably, happy to please him. And although you didn’t tell Cal, you could admit to yourself that you weren’t going just for his benefit anymore – there were other people looking forward to seeing you. You couldn’t help but wonder if you would get to spend any time talking to Joel, and your heart squeezed in a way you chose to ignore.

The sun had set hours ago, and the party was in full swing when you arrived at the gathering. Flames blazed high into the air from two huge bonfires, crackling loudly and lighting the wide-open space with a warm orange glow. Small twinkling lights had been strung up through the surrounding trees, providing more light. A small group of musicians stood off to the side, playing soft folk music that flowed beautifully into your ears.

Busy marvelling at your beautiful surroundings, you were shocked back to reality by Cal thrusting a warm mug into your hands.

“Liquid courage,” he winked, taking a swig. You stared at the deep red steaming liquid in your own cup, and sipped it tentatively. Soft notes of cinnamon and star anise hit your tongue, mixing with the tart red wine, and you hummed happily. “Oh, there she is!”

Cal bid you a quick farewell and wandered across the field to sit beside Luisa on a thick log. You watched as the pair embraced, but averted your eyes quickly when Luisa leaned in and pressed a kiss against Cal’s cheek. He would tell you these things in his own time, and deserved his privacy. Allowing your eyes to flicker over the rest of the crowd. It seemed everyone in Jackson was there. Families talking and laughing, couples and friends swaying together near the band. A feeling of intense loneliness hit you in a sudden wave, but as quick as it came it was gone, as you spotted Joel sitting alone, staring into the fire.

Before you could convince yourself not to, you found your legs meandering in his direction, as if out of your own control. You half hoped someone would stop you for a conversation along the way, but everyone was distracted, and you seemed to blend into the crowd without drawing much attention. Ellie could be seen watching the band play with some other people around her age and hadn’t noticed your arrival. In less than a minute, your black boots were stopping a metre behind where Joel sat.

He wasn’t aware of your presence yet, leaving you with a moment to take him in. Although you couldn’t see his face yet, you admired his broad strong back, and thought absently that either all his clothes were too tight, or he must’ve been built like a brick house underneath them.

Unsure of yourself, and feeling awkward in your own skin, you hesitated for a moment too long. A quiet crack sounded as you adjusted your footing, and crunched onto a wayward twig, making Joel’s head tick ever so slightly to the side.

“Hey there,” you rushed, not wanting to spook him, and he turned fully to see you. He looked handsome, wearing his normal brown jacket, and holding his own mug of ruby red liquid courage. The corner of his mouth quirked up and those earthy brown eyes took her in quickly, flicking from her head to her feet, and back up again in an instant.

“You gonna sit down or just stand there all night?” You were torn abruptly from your reverie when he spoke, and you hoped that the darkness hid your blush. Stepping over the log he was on, you sat down beside him heavily, holding out your free hand to feel the warmth of the bonfire. You were close. Not enough to touch, but enough that the sleeves of you jackets brushed ever so slightly when one of you moved your arm.

“You havin’ a good time?” you enquired quietly, realising that from this vantage point, you could actually see Cal and Luisa, on the other side of the fire.

“Better now, I’ll admit.” You turned her head to look at him, surprised by his forthrightness, and he held your gaze evenly, still doing that half smile that put you at ease. “The people in this town are so friendly, but you run out of things to talk about after knowing them all for a year and a half.”

“Well lucky for us,” you suggested. “I’ve only been here 7 months. We haven’t exhausted all avenues of conversation yet, have we Joel?”

From behind the rim of his mug he chuckled quietly, his eyes shining with the fire’s reflection. “I’d say we haven’t, no.” Considering his height and broad stature, he always held himself in a naturally authoritative manor. But sitting there beside him, you enjoyed seeing him look so relaxed, lounging comfortably, with a few drinks in his system. It was a version of him that you hadn’t met before, and you liked it.

“How is he?” Joel asked, nodding in Cal’s direction. You looked over to see him and Luisa chatting together, their foreheads knocking together as they leaned into one another. You smiled.

“He’s good. Fitting in like no one’s business,” you snorted, shaking your head in a sort of wonderment. “Doesn’t surprise me though. People always liked Cal, everywhere we went.”

“And they didn’t like you?” His tone was disbelieving. A prickling heat tickled across your face, and you knew he was staring.

“Not that they didn’t like me, I’m just…” you trailed off, trying to choose your words carefully. “More of an acquired taste, I suppose.”

“An acquired taste.” He repeated gruffly, and made a scoffing noise from deep in his throat.

“Ah, you know what I mean.”

“I don’t think I do.”

“Well, even then, I suppose the saying goes... about acquired tastes getting better with age… or something like that.” You looked at him out of the corner of your eye and relished in seeing his large frame shaking with silent laughter.

“We can agree to disagree on this one, but I’m happy to let you chop together sayings to fit your idea of not being likable.”

You stared at him a little longer, enjoying the tight-lipped smile on his face. Gaze locked onto his mouth, your brain suddenly filled with ideas about his lips, and what they would feel like. He was so rough, so brawny, but you liked to imagine they’d be soft, like he was now that you had gotten to know him more. His tongue darted out to wet his lower lip and your eyes drifted up, to find he’d caught you staring. Joel exhaled heavily and reached up to scratch at the little scar on the bridge of his nose. You wondered how he’d gotten it.

You’d noticed plenty of scars along his arms, during the warmer months in Jackson. It seemed he had a long history of violence that you knew nothing about, but you certainly wasn’t surprised by it. Even as you grew closer to him, and to Ellie, nothing was ever revealed about how they came together, or what led them to Jackson. It almost made you want to keep your own history private, until he shared more with you. But then he smiled at you, and your heart did that skipping a beat thing it was always doing these days around him, and your defences would lower again.

Across the fire, your attention was caught by the sound of Luisa laughing loudly at something Cal whispered to her. You and Joel watched them silently for a moment, both entranced by the giggling couple across the field.

Joel raked a hand through his hair and cleared his throat quietly. “You and Cal…”

“Me and Cal what?” you prompted.

“You two, did anything ever…” he seemed to hesitate; his eyes boring into the dirt in front of you while he struggled to articulate himself. It was bizarre to see such a strong man seem so unsure. “You never… anything more than friendship?”

A beat of silence. you wondered how much to tell him. Certain memories of you and Cal ran through your mind and you shivered a little. It had been a long few years since you’d thought about that time in your lives.

“It’s complicated,” you spoke slowly, not wanting to lie to Joel. “We were alone for so long. Sometimes there would be other people with us while we travelled around, or when we lived in other settlements, but…”

“But they were temporary?”

“Temporary,” you nodded. The band were playing an upbeat song, and you were momentarily distracted by the contrast between the group of people lively dancing a few metres away, and you and Joel sitting there talking in hushed tones.  

“They would get themselves killed, or infected, or…” you paused, feeling your eyebrow twitch at the thought of some of you and Cal’s past acquaintances. Of one in particular, whom you was still plagued with visions of while asleep.

Embers from the fire were floating through the foggy air, and you inhaled a deep breathe, watching as they disappeared into the night sky. Little pieces of crackling sparks, shooting up and evaporating. The smoke from the fire burned your eyes and throat. Don’t think about it.

“Or…” he pressed. He might as well have poked you with a stick to bring your attention back to the conversation; his curiosity rolling off him in waves. Joel with a few drinks in him proved far nosier than sober Joel. 

Your gaze stayed on the sky. “Or prove themselves untrustworthy.”

Joel was smart enough to read between the lines, and not push any further on the matter. You observed fondly that when you were speaking to him, Joel angled his head ever so slightly to have his left ear closer to you. Upon noticing, you remembered it was true that whenever he’d approached you in the past few weeks, he’d position himself on your right side. You figured the hearing on his right side was a little shoddy. 

For a few moments you just sat and watched the people around you. Some of the families started to leave, herding little ones away from the band, and in the direction of town.

“So?” Joel prompted, with a deep wrinkle in his forehead that let you know he wasn’t happy about having to ask again.

“You really want to know?”

You couldn’t read the expression on his face. He fiddled with the mug in his hands and nodded once.  You didn’t like the way he’d gone from relaxed and boozy, back to his regular grouchy countenance.

Your tongue clicked against the roof of your mouth in acquiescence.

“We’d been friends for twenty years before it, and we’ve been friends for a decade after it. It happened twice, or… or maybe three times. It gets a bit hazy in my memory. We figured we knew each other so well, and after so many years alone, it had started to seem like there would never be anyone else to…” you trailed off, uncertain of how much to reveal. Joel waited.

“As much as we wished it was more it just wasn’t. It never could be.” It was impossible not to picture those times, as you talked about them. Your stomach rolled remembering the way you and Cal had stood awkwardly together, skimming stones over a lake you’d stumbled across, agreeing to never do it again. It was one of the worst moments of your friendship; both fearing you were about to break your only friend’s heart. “We love each other but… there’s a barrier there, in our heads. All the memories of us as kids, of playing soccer on the weekend with him and his brothers, of watching each other grow up and become the people we were going to be…” You rubbed the itchy corner of your eye with grimy fingers, taking a breath. Joel’s eyes flicked over to see Cal and Luisa standing up, and the pair began walking away from the bonfire hand in hand.

“When we fucked, the first time, it was just a tension release, I suppose.”

Joel flinched beside you, his shoulders tenser than they had been a moment before. A twinge of regret tickled in your chest, for using such matter-of-fact language. You weren’t trying to push him away, but it felt sneaky if you were to lie about your past with Cal. There was no denying what had happened; not if you wanted Joel to know you, truly. It was a part of your story, and neither of you could afford to be ashamed of it. 

“And after that, we tried again but it just… didn’t work. We couldn’t be together that way, as much as we longed for the connection. He may as well be my brother. Thankfully, the sibling sentiment was mutual.”

You turned to watch Joel’s face. His stoic expression was hard to read, but the wrinkles around his mouth were made prominent by how he clenched his jaw, and you could sense an undercurrent of thoughts and emotions clearly rolling under his skin. Yet he stayed silent, brooding. Jealous? You shook the invasive thought off. No.

“I don’t say it lightly, that I would die for Cal,” you said quietly, your voice as firm and wary as the day you arrived in Jackson, eyes glancing away for a moment to watch Cal’s back as he disappeared out of the field. “Him being here, happy and safe… it’s all I’ve ever wanted for him.”

Silence swelled around you, heavy with the weight of all that you had revealed. Goosebumps rippled over your skin as the band started to play a song you recognised. One from before outbreak day, that your mother used to sing to you on the settlement, in those early years after everything changed. If Joel noticed your demeanour shift, you didn’t care, letting your eyes fall closed as you gently sang along to the opening of the old song.

Oh, Kentucky, I miss you

Your night sky, black and tired

But wild like a live wire

The horse is never leaving the pond on its own

You got to open the gate and let it loose to run

Faster than the clouds on a windblown dawn Faster than you left me alone to long

You trailed off slowly and reached up to wipe a stray tear from your cheek. An image of your mother’s face flashed through your memory, but you shoved it down, unsure if it was even an accurate idea of what she had looked like. After a decade and a half without her, you couldn’t be sure your memories were trustworthy.  

“And what do you want now?” Joel finally spoke, his voice hoarse. “Now that he’s happy, and safe. What do you want?”

“For myself?” you whispered, voice thick with emotion. “I haven’t let myself want anything in a long time now. There’s no use; nothing good comes from it.”

Your cheeks were warm and red, and little bits of ash were dotted through your hair. Joel’s mug had been abandoned to the ground, and his fingers fiddled together in his lap, the way they always did when he was trying his best to actively listen. He was present, and this way his way of showing it. No messing around, no object or weapon in his hands to put a barrier between himself and another person. Just his hands, scratching and tracing each other, to calm himself. It made your heart beat out of time for a second, whenever you noticed him doing it. Until one of his hands lifted and held in the air for a second, and then he reached over to place it gently on your knee. Your heart stuttered as he gave it a gentle squeeze, and left it to rest there.

“I felt the same way for a long time. Thought there was no use in hoping, or wanting anything good, or feeling like I deserved to be happy.”

“And now?” you asked, staring down at his large hand on you. You wished you had the confidence to reach down and take it in your own. “Do you still feel like that?”

His thumb made one slow stroking movement along your knee, making the skin underneath your jeans tingle sharply.

“Jackson changed things. Ellie… Ellie changed things. And…” He paused, and his forehead finally relaxed. You pursed your chapped lips and didn’t look away from him, urging him to continue. “Jackson continues to change things.” Is all he said.

And it’s all he needed to. You understood. 

Take me to the track, I want to lose all my cash

This beating in my chest is all I need to stash

And why shouldn’t I?

Cause when I’m alone

We’re still looking at the same moon

Under the night

Are we two people never getting together?

I will follow your roads

As wide as the air, as wild as a storm.

part two

#joel miller #tlou #the last of us #the last of us hbo #joel miller fanfiction #ellie williams #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfic #joel miller angst #joel miller smut #joel miller series #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #my writing #under the night

[k-femdove]

First Love : Day 1 || H.RJ

pairing :: sub!renjun x afab!reader 

warnings :: first love au, light kissing/making out, drinking, light profanity

word count :: 2k | not beta read

sypnosis :: In a world where your family can see who their first love is going to be, you are unable to love anyone until you end up with that person. Not a big deal, right? The only problem is that your first love is moving and you only have a week to make him fall in love. 

or; my take on the soulmate au

playlist link here! or listen to ‘lover’ by taylor swift

prologue, day 1

You looked up from the table. Sitting across from you was Renjun. He quickly avoided eye contact, looking down and fidgeting with his thumbs. You looked back down.

Despite your seemingly confident manner, you were never the most social person. If you were being incredibly honest, most of your friends were people that had been introduced to you.

Then there was Chenle. Chenle had been your friend for years now. You could remember the day he moved here perfectly.

It was a hot summer day, and your AC was on full blast in your home. Being a young teenager, you were more than bored. The older kids would play basketball under the scorching sun, laughing over god knows what. The small kids would play in the community pool, their colorful floaties and chatty parents crowding the area.

You had only moved a year before and had yet to make any friends. No one in your neighborhood was around your age. You were too old to play with stuffed animals, but not mature enough to hang out with the others.

You sighed, glancing outside the window and shielding your eyes from the sunlight. A loud ding suddenly interrupted your thoughts and you ran to the door.

When you opened it, you were met with the sight of a young boy, only a tad bit shorter than you. He smiled, reaching a hand out to you.

“Hi, I'm Chenle! I'm 13 and I just moved next door. I heard you were my age, so why don't we hang out?”

Ever since then, Chenle and you were stuck together like glue. Not only that, but he constantly dragged you to places with him, resulting in a lot of interesting encounters.

That's why you and Chenle had a very similar friend group. He introduced a plethora of people to you, and they just so happened to vibe with you.

You usually weren't awkward with potential friends because Chenle was there, which made interacting with Renjun even harder.

Your embarrassing cycle had been repeating for a good 5 minutes. The silence was painfully awkward.

You cursed under your breath. The day began when Chenle invited you over. He claimed that Renjun wasn’t home, and he wanted to talk. It’s fine, right? Wrong.

The moment you walked into the apartment, you knew Chenle had lied. He wasn’t even home.

So here you were. Renjun was sweet, so he couldn’t bring himself to chase you out. He regretted that decision now. After he saw you yesterday, he was hoping to avoid any confrontation.

Not only that, but he felt ashamed. He was looking forward to meeting you, but now he was acting like a child. So what if you were fucking his best friend? As inexperienced as Renjun was, he knew that wasn’t something to shame people for.

You could practically hear his thoughts from across the table. Sighing, you spoke up.

“I didn’t fuck Chenle.”

Renjun’s head shot up.

“It’s a long story.” You continued. “I know you’re thinking about it. Don’t worry. I wouldn’t have sex on your couch- I’m not that reckless.”

“Oh,” Renjun muttered, embarrassed. “If that’s not it… then why are you here?”

Well shit. You couldn’t tell him the truth. Racking your brain for ideas, you tried to remember what Chenle had told you about this guy.

“Uh…” you said, attempting to pull something out of your ass. “I heard you’ve never been to a proper party before?”

“Uhm, yeah, I haven't,” Renjun replied, a puzzled expression on his face.

“Well, one of my friends is throwing a crazy one tonight, but he says everyone has to bring a friend...” You explained slowly, gauging his reaction. When he didn’t show any signs of discomfort, you continued. “And I was wondering if you’d like to come with me? You know, just for fun”

He didn’t reply quickly, but you could hear his unspoken words. “Why me?”

You didn’t want to come off too strong, so you tried to clarify. “I would’ve asked someone else, but nobody I know is up for it.”

Luckily for you, Renjun believed your explanation.

“Are you sure? I'm not the biggest party person.” He explained sheepishly.

“Yeah, it’ll be fun! You don't even have to stick with me the whole time- I think most of your friends will be there.”

Renjun thought about it before hesitantly agreeing. Besides, he had nothing better to do.

The rest of the meeting went smoothly. Renjun thought you were just bored, and you grabbed his number.

Chenle called you around an hour later, your phone ringing for at least 5 minutes before you felt like picking up.

“God y/n. You need to pick up my calls!” He scolded. “Anyways, have you explained things to Renjun?”

“Even better,” you replied. “I got his number.”

You heard shocked silence on the other line before Chenle let out an odd but excited sound.

“Really? You're surprisingly good at this. Tell me what happened.”

Chenle laughed when he heard about the conversation, his dolphin-like laugh just as loud through the phone.

“You invited Renjun to Haechan’s party? You know those are crazy as hell.”

“Don't make fun of me!” You said as Chenle was practically busting a lung. “You're turning into Mark right now.”

“Oh, shush.” He said, still giggling. “Continue with the story?”

Once your story finished (and Chenle stopped laughing), he finally got a little more serious about it.

“I'm surprised that you got him to go, though. You do know that I would’ve gone with you, right?”

“I don't know about that,” you replied. “You wouldn't say no to Jisung.”

“I mean,” Chenle said, “that's different! Don't act like you wouldn't choose Mark over me!”

Then you heard another voice over the line.

“Ooo, would you choose me over Chenle?” it said, a teasing tone underneath the amusement.

The next thing you heard was Chenle’s exaggerated groan.

“Shut up Mark!”

You texted Renjun at 12 with the details for the party. 10 pm, casual. You insisted on picking him up; besides, you were already stopping by for Chenle, Jisung, and Mark.

It was only 9 when Renjun became annoyed. Chenle was chatting his head off and Jisung was dropping everything in their kitchen. Renjun always wondered how things turned out like this. He loved all of his friends, but they were all a little annoying sometimes.

Speaking of his friends- Renjun was shocked by the number of friends you had. He originally thought that you were only friends with Chenle and just a casual talker with the others. He was wrong.

When he mentioned that he was going with you, he was bombarded with questions. According to Mark, you were one of his close friends. Jisung knew you as well; you were so close with his family that they took you on vacation with them and a few other friends.

As if it were on cue, you rang the doorbell. Mark hurriedly answered the door and tried to dap you up, but was beaten by a hyper Chenle.

You let the others talk on the way back to the car, walking with Renjun.

The car ride itself was great. Renjun sat in the passenger seat as you drove, the other three squeezing into the back.

You turned on the radio and listened to their singing, which never failed to amaze you. Chenle’s voice was beautiful as always, and Mark’s Khalid impression was just as bad as the first time you heard it.

Street lights reflected on the windows as you cruised through town- Haechan’s parents’ house happened to be a little far from yours. They were out on a trip, so he was holding it there.

Due to the cool weather, the sky was already dark when you got there. There were tons of people; Haechan outdid himself this time.

He greeted you enthusiastically when you arrived, hugging you until it was hard to breathe.

“Renjun!” He exclaimed, jumping onto the boy. “You came!”

Renjun laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “Hey, Hyuck.”

You led the boys into the house as Haechan went off to socialize some more, dragging Mark off with him. Soon enough, Chenle had swept Jisung away, and you were left alone with Renjun.

The house was dark, the only light coming from bright and colorful lights. The ambiance of the place was strangely comfortable, complete with a pink tint.

It was crowded, people swarming the halls. Loud music blasted throughout the house, providing a pretty good dance floor.

Renjun looked at the crowd hesitantly and turned back to you. You could feel the awkward energy, so you led him to the kitchen, which was surprisingly empty.

“What do you want?” You asked, already rummaging through Haechan’s cabinets.

“What?” Renjun asked back.

“To drink.” You answered, already pouring your share of tequila and soda into a red cup. “I can check the fridge for soju too.”

“Oh, I don’t drink much.” He replied, leaning onto the countertop.

You hummed softly, sipping your drink.

Turning back to Renjun, you smiled. “Wanna get out of here?”

You led him into the main room, drinking with Kun. After mingling for a while and talking to your other friends, you spotted Renjun laughing with Doyoung. Doyoung saw you from across the room and flashed his sweet smile. Renjun made eye contact and made his way toward you.

He followed you through the crowd until you found a distant corner, away from prying eyes.

“This was… better than I expected.” He admitted.

“And you said you weren’t a party person.” You said, smirking. He laughed.

There was silence. Renjun looked into your eyes, admiring the way that they glowed. You looked into his. The noise was reduced to nothing but a quiet buzz. Soon enough, your gaze traveled to his lips.

You walked closer to him until you were only inches away from his face.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked quietly.

Renjun hesitated. “Don’t say things you don’t mean.”.

“I’m serious.” You answered, inching closer and tracing his jaw with your fingers.

He looked at you, the blush on his cheeks barely visible in the dim light.

His heart began to beat faster as you cupped his chin and led him closer, lips meeting against one another.

Renjun’s eyes fluttered shut as he melted into your touch, back pressed against the wall. He pulled you in closer, deepening the kiss. You nibbled slightly on his bottom lip, slipping your tongue into his mouth lightly.

You tasted bittersweet, the peach-flavored tequila still lingering in your mouth. Renjun’s lips were soft and pillowy, melding against yours perfectly.

The kiss was sloppy and inexperienced, clashing in a somewhat awkward manner. Neither of you knew what you were doing, but everything felt so right.

It was short and sweet. You pulled away, heart hammering in your chest. Renjun looked bewildered by what he had just done, face flushing a deeper shade of pink, the taste of alcohol still prominent on his tongue.

“I thought you didn’t drink?” You teased, surprised by his eagerness.

“This is an exception.” He whispered breathlessly, still gazing into your eyes.

The moment was interrupted by a crazily drunk Jisung, falling on to you and knocking you off Renjun. Chenle was just as drunk, wrapping an arm around Renjun. You rolled your eyes, pushing Jisung off of you, but supporting his body.

You saw Mark hurry over apologetically, offering an awkward laugh.

“Sorry, y/n. Do you mind taking them home?”

“Yeah, sure.” You said, turning to Renjun. “Let’s get out of here.”

One car ride later and two wasted friends forced into bed, you bid yourself goodbye. Just as you slipped on your shoes, Renjun stopped you at the door.

“I had fun.” He said, hands in his pockets. The look in his eyes told a thousand words, but nether of you were ready to say them.

“Me too,” You replied. “I’ll look forward to next time.”

That night, you both went to bed with a smile on your faces, the kiss replaying in your heads.

a/n: day 1 is here! It’s a little fast paced. Renjun is very confused about his emotions rn so give him some time! 

tagging (taglist open): @canigetaglassoffullsun​ @cathy-1997 

#sub!nct #sub!nct dream #sub!renjun #sub!kpop #nct fluff #nct x reader #renjun #renjun fanfic #renjun x reader #nct dream #nct fanfic #soulmate au #first love au #NCT #nct renjun #huang renjun #hwang renjun #dom!reader #dove's works 📝

[morganbritton132]

The other day I read through all your officer noodle/ uncle Phil Callahan au posts and god!!!! How that would change (but also not!) the Dynamic S1 & S2 especially. Like Steve is the only kid without any parent on screen who is In His Corner. He’d finally have an Adult who gives a shit and, while he may not Like Steve, loves him & would be able to say ‘why is this teen getting the shit kicked out of him every 6 months’ and make sure he’s actually getting medical treatment every time he gets his shit rocked lol. Also the angst potential of Callahan & his mom (Steve’s grandma) realizing his sister abandoned them when she found a rich husband/ family but now she’s abandoning her own kid like she did them and like, ‘fuck is he my responsibility now if she’s not even in the country??’ Idk, would love to hear if you (or anyone else!) have any more Thoughts abt it!

I have thoughts! This is kinda long.

Phil was never particularly close with his sister, but the six-year age gap between them never felt wider than it did when he saw his nephew for the very first time. He was twelve, gangly and awkward, and his legs hurt all the time from growing, but he didn’t feel like an uncle.

Everybody said that he was an uncle now, but Uncle was a grown-up word and Phil was just a kid. He thinks that Mom is a grown-up word too and that just because Angie was eighteen and married, that it didn’t make her an adult.

When he saw her, tired and exhausted, holding her little bundle of baby like she didn’t quite know what to do with it… it felt like she was just playing pretend. He didn’t think that she should be having a baby or that she should be married to twenty-five year old Richard Harrington no matter how good his job was, but that was what happened.

Phil was technically the first man – boy – to hold little baby Steven because Richard had stepped out to make a call and didn’t come back until an hour after Steve was born. He had lipstick on his collar, wasn’t particularly interested in the baby, and Phil was left with this sinking feeling that they were all going to fail this kid.

Phil graduated from high school, tried college, dropped out, joined the police force, and that feeling remained there. It never really went away – not when Angie stopped coming around for holidays, not when they went five years without hearing from her, and not when he found out that she left her ten year old home alone while she followed her husband out of the country.

Phil’s dad died when he was young and he didn’t really remember much about the man, but he knew that he must have been a fierce man because that fierceness lives inside of Angie, or maybe it was just something that Richard Harrington put there. Their mother was not fierce. She was timid and kind, and she didn’t put up a fight when Angie came to collect her child after a week because she didn’t know how.

Angie said a lot of hateful words that day – mostly to Phil – and Richard threatened worse, but Steve didn’t cry when he was dragged away even though he looked like he wanted to. Phil was put on a week’s suspension after Richard threatened to sue the police department for harassment, and life went on.

Phil always pictured a life where he left Hawkins but it never came to fruition. He never moved out of his mother’s house. He made plans to but they fell through when her health took a turn. He stayed. He slept in the same bed that he had his whole life, he continued his work at the police department under Hopper, made a life-long friend out Calvin Powell, and he did not check in on his nephew. Though maybe he should have.

Phil’s interactions with Steve were few and far between and each one filled with more disdain and attitude than the one before. He saw him running out of parties that the police broke up, grinning through the window of his daddy’s car when he was pulled over for speeding, and he saw him beaten halfway to hell sitting in the waiting room after Will Byers was found.

“Did a nurse look you over?” Phil asked, crouching down to catch Steve’s eyes when it was just the two of them and a sleeping Ted Wheeler left in the waiting room. Steve squinted at him and shrugged, but otherwise didn’t respond. “You could have a concussion – you probably do.”

“I deserved it.”

“Yeah, I know,” Phil said because he probably did. He put his hand on Steve’s knee to lift himself back up but stopped, “God, you’re shaking like a leaf. Are you-“

“Just shut up, okay?” Steve snapped at him. He looked angry and panicked for a second, and Phil was left with that sinking feeling of failure again. “I’m sorry. I’m just – I’m sorry. Just – I’m tired.”

Callahan went to get Steve a cup a water and came back to an empty chair. Steve cleaned up his act after that and then Billy Hargrove happened. Steve was in the hospital with a concussion, cracked ribs, and three broken fingers, and neither Angie nor Richard answered the goddamn phone. Fall passed into winter, spring, summer, and Hopper died.

Hopper was dead and the mall was in flames, and the only goddamn thing that Callahan can see is his nephew beaten half to hell again. Steve’s on a stretcher with a shell-shocked look, and when Callahan approached, Steve startled so violently that it looked like everything hurt.

He asked what happened and Steve told him with a choked voice that Hopper was, uh. That Hopper was gone. And Phil asked if Steve was okay and he said in barely a whisper, “No.”

Phil took Steve home that night. He made up the bed in Angie’s old room for his nephew and the Robin girl that he insisted had to stay with him, and he knows that he’s missed a lot – a lifetime – but he vows to himself that nothing else was going to happen to this kid anymore.

He doesn’t pick up the phone this time.

#this is probably as close to a proper fic that I’ve gotten recently #steve harrington #phil callahan #Officer Noodles

[mychlapci]

okay finally i can go off anon now that we're not being horny!!!!

you have no idea how much of a problem i am going to be for you >:]

right one of the characters i find to be infinitely fascinating in terms of how the fandom looks at them is rung. like for me, rung is a socially awkward aroace autistic. his reason for being in psychology/psychiatry beyond just wanting to understand himself (which is also a reason i think he's autistic bc one of the main symptoms is an inability to understand one's own emotions) is because he wants to make connections with other cybertronians without the social pressures of dating or interfacing.

i think the whole "primus has game" jokes are genuinely really funny because y'know he's literally god, but i do think that in a good ending of the lost light, where rung managed to survive and explore himself through the aspect of godhood, i think he'd find, with his memories restored, that loving other cybertronians on a romantic level is odd to him

he's got these vibes from those around him that this new knowledge, the knowledge that he is literally the being that so many of them prayed to in times of anguish, makes it difficult for them to interact with him in the same way as before. i do still think he'd have genuine connections with nautica, skids (because fuck canon he's living), and megatron.

those three in particular work so well on a platonic level with rung. megatron is someone who i think would find a lot of solace in discussing philosophy and ethics with literal god, also though the lens of the fact that i bet megatron has loads of religious trauma since the functionalists justified their actions through their worship of primus

nautica, being from caminus would also work really well with a newly godhooded rung. like caminus is a heavily religious society as well, arguably more religious than modern day cybertron and i think she and rung would discuss the science and perhaps some of the earlier days of rung's existence together.

and skids. well i can't really see skids seeing rung any differently. i think the two of them are in a queerplatonic relationship. they enjoy each other's company very much.

the idea of rung living to understand his godhood is something that's been bouncing around in my brain for a while because of one of my oc's.

to put it bluntly, this oc, malware, was a former guard of the senate, picked by alpha trion to serve and protect the prime's and their legacy. she's pretty old (roughly 7 million) and when nova prime left for the stars xey suffered a rather intense psychotic break that eventually devolved into her becoming entrapped in a very long series of delusions where primus himself was watching xeir every move.

she ended up betraying the senate and joining the decepticons, where xeir delusions eventually spiraled from primus watching her, to the literally embodiment of the decepticon cause controlling xem. she was friends with damus prior to the war (due to xeir studies of chemistry which he found interesting) and when the DJD got formed she ended up joining as the first helex.

TLDR; malware ends up defecting and starts having regular therapy sessions with rung, alongside a nice dose of antipsychotics. and when the war ends xey join the lost light.

and this leads me to the idea and concept of mecha who have been having therapy sessions with rung having to struggle with potential religious trauma from knowing that the guy who've been talking your religion problems over with is actual god himself. fucked up and evil

i don't think rung himself would really view himself as good interestingly enough. he's shown throughout the series to be a very shy and socially awkward individual, to the point that he can hardly believe the stories that rewind and chromedome tell him about his alternate universe self.

rung is such an interesting character to explore through the lens of having to know that he likely never got to fully understand himself and his backstory before dying and being essentially forgotten by everyone in his life.

it makes me sad to think about because i think rung, of all characters, should've gotten to see a new cybertron. imagine a version of the bad ending where rung, fully understanding his position as a god tries to steer his people towards a brighter future, one where he can help those who truly need it through therapy and proper medication

hopefully this doesn't sound like nonesense. i just love thinking about complex platonic relationships and as much as i'm a shipper, i wish i got to see more platonic rung with the other members of the lost light

just realised i don't gotta cap this off with my anon tag lmao

Rung... I don't think about Rung often enough. But to be honest, I don't necessarily ship Rung with anyone, and i am definitely very fond of imagining him in deep platonic relations with others. We know he's a bit unethical, hehe, making close friends with your patients probably isn't advised, so I really like that edge about him. I always saw him as a bit of a bleeding heart of sorts. He'll go beyond standard procedure to help out his patients...

I mean, religion in transformers has always been kind of iffy, but it's okay we can fix that. The fact that Rung's godhood has not been discussed more is kind of a crime. I would have loved to see people interact with him knowing he's Primus. Maybe some, who have really been hurt by religion, struggle to separate Rung from the religion that caused them trauma - i mean, Rung had nothing to do with that, but it's difficult to think about Primus, who, if we assume they view him the same way we view god, should be almighty and all-seeing and know that he'd done nothing.

love that you snuck in your OC. we are being self-indulgent in this house today‼️it is very curious to think about someone with such a deep, horrible issue with Primus and godhood and finding out that the therapist that helped her out was god himself. I mean, what's that mean for someone whose greatest fear for so long was the thought of god watching their every move... (sorry if i'm butchering OC lore, i'm just rambling on along bc i don't wanna read my philosophy assignment for today)

I honestly could never really gleam Rung's relationship with Cyberton properly, but it would be so interesting if he took a leading role in making it better. I feel like everyone who went with the Lost Light kind of... "ran away" though, y'know, in search of something brighter than the ruined, dead Cybertron they've left behind. Finding out he's Primus, Rung might feel a sense of duty and responsibility to come back and help out...

#sorry i did not answer this one first i was distracted by the grooming one #texty #transformers #tf hc's

[campingwiththecharmings]

Happy Accidents

AN: No one asked me for this but here it is all the same lol

(Un-beta'd)

Prompt: You were waving at your friend behind me but I got confused and waved back at you and now I’m dying of embarrassment but you think it’s cute. x

Rated: T (for some mild cursing) Words: 1,636 Pairing: Poe Dameron x GN!Reader Warnings: awkwardness, cursing, over-use of the word 'kriffing' for some reason, possibly terrible writing. AO3

——————

It’s early. Early enough that the hangar bay is mostly deserted. That’s fine with you, though; less people means less distractions.

You’d joined the Resistance a few months ago and were still a mechanic-in-training. Master mechanic Nicorile Crisbay had graciously taken you under his wing and you were so grateful. He was older, and a little rough around the edges, but he recognized your potential and was (mostly) patient with you. He was the reason you were here so early. About a week ago, Crisbay had given you a project, a project he expected you to complete in addition to your daily tasks and lessons. You’re struggling, but you don’t want to disappoint him, so here you are up before the sun trying to rebuild the engine of an old starfighter.

You mutter a curse as your hand slips, your wrench clattering to the ground as it falls from your hand. Sighing in frustration, you hang your head, allowing yourself a couple of seconds of self-pity, before bending over and snatching it from the ground. You toss it onto the workbench behind you, plopping down on the stool beside it with a groan. 

You’re exhausted and the sun’s not even up yet.

Rubbing your eyes with the heels of your hands, you sigh, searching the workbench for your canteen. When you spot it, you grab it and twist off the cap. As you bring the container to your lips, you allow your gaze to sweep the room, giving your brain a much-needed break. The hangar has more people milling around than it did an hour ago, but it’s far from bustling– there are a few other mechanics working on ships and droids, as well as a couple of pilots, the harsh orange of their flight suits brighter beneath the glaring hangar lights. Your eyes are drawn to one pilot in particular: Poe Dameron, the best pilot in the Resistance. You might be new, but you’ve been here long enough to know who he is. You haven’t exactly met just yet (though you swear he made eye contact with you in the hall one time), but you hope you will one day. 

You watch as he walks across the hangar, his adorable droid rolling along beside him. You take another mouthful of water from your canteen, eyes still following him, as he continues his trek. He stops to briefly look at the ship parked a few spots away from your workbench. After a moment, he turns away, looking around as if searching for someone. You should really get back on task, you think. Crisbay will be in soon and you had hoped to have made a little more progress by then. As this thought crosses your mind, Poe turns back around, gazing in your direction. You look away quickly, replacing the canteen’s lid, and pray he didn’t catch you staring blankly at him (and when his back was to you no less). 

Setting down your canteen, you rise from your place on the stool and reclaim your tools from the workbench. As you make your way back over to the old starfighter, you sense movement out of the corner of your eye and absently glance over…only to see that Poe Dameron is waving at you.

You stop in your tracks, eyes widening a little in shock because you seriously have no idea what to do here. Your brain is screaming at you to do something though, because if this happens to be your first interaction with Poe kriffing Dameron, you’d rather he not think you’re rude. So you wave back, albeit a tad awkwardly because, hey, you’re a little confused.

Poe stops mid-wave and cocks his head a little, a smile stretching slowly across his face as he looks at you, and you stop, your stomach dropping. Slowly, you turn and see Snap Wexley, Poe’s friend and member of his squadron, almost directly behind you and you die a little inside; clearly, he was waving at Snap, not you (shit).  

Mortified, you turn your attention back to the engine you were working on, mentally kicking yourself and thinking about how stupid one of the biggest Resistance heroes now thinks you are. You force yourself not to look in his direction again, instead deciding to dive head-first into your work.

Crisbay arrives promptly at 0700 and seems at least mildly impressed with your progress. Your relief is short-lived, however, as he then proceeds to teach you so many new things, your head is spinning by lunch. He seems to sense this, however, and graciously grants you an extra long break. You decide to return to your quarters for a quick nap, exhausted from your early morning. After setting your alarm, you fall onto your bed, sleep taking you the second your head hits the pillow.

You start when your alarm goes off about an hour later, sitting up abruptly as the blaring noise pulls you from sleep. You groan in annoyance, flopping back down onto your bed with a huff. After a moment, you turn, moving to shut off the alarm still going off beside you. As you move to sit on the side of your bed, you stretch, scrubbing a hand over your face. Your stomach growls loudly after a moment and it’s then that you realize you’re starving, having forgone breakfast that morning in favor of more time in the hangar. With a sigh, you stand, stretching once more as you glance at the clock. You still have enough time to stop by the mess hall before you have to be back so you rise, stretch, and head out into the hallway 

On your way, you pass people who work all over the base; some you know, some you don't. You nod at anyone that happens to make eye contact with you, returning smiles here and there. As you get closer, the bright orange of a flight suit catches your eye by the entrance to the mess hall and your step falters, your heart stuttering in your chest when you realize who it belongs to.

Poe kriffing Dameron.

Sirens are blaring in your head as you slow your gait, your brain screaming ‘Mayday, mayday! Abort, abort!’ and you wonder fruitlessly if it’s too late to turn around—

But then suddenly he's heading toward you and the last thing you need is for him to catch you staring for a second time. So you panic, looking at the wall beside you with far too much interest as you continue slowly down the hall, praying to the Maker that he doesn't notice you.

You’re not far from the mess hall now, and you’re pretty sure he's passed you, so you breathe a quiet sigh of relief. As you turn your attention ahead, you chuckle at yourself for making such a big deal out of nothing, only to look up and lock eyes with him—Poe Dameron is standing right next to the mess hall door, an amused smile on his lips as his warm gaze holds yours. 

Immediately you stop in your tracks, frantically praying that the ground will split open and swallow you whole. 

Regrettably, it doesn’t.

“Hi,” he says, smiling as he directs a little wave at you.

Your face burns with embarrassment as you continue to wordlessly stare at him like a deer in the headlights. His stupidly gorgeous smile widens a little, presumably at your reaction, and you idly wonder how far the cliffside is because you’re considering flinging yourself off the edge.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” he continues, taking a step toward you, “I’m Poe.”

When you finally manage to shake some sense into yourself, he’s directly in front of you. 

You nod, awkwardly waving back. “I know. I mean—” 

Wow, you’re really batting a thousand today, aren't you?

You grimace, mentally kicking yourself for the umpteenth time that day, when you see an outstretched hand enter your field of vision. You follow the arm attached to it back up to (who else) Poe and his annoyingly handsome face. He raises his eyebrows at you as if waiting for you to say something, but when you don’t, he wiggles the fingers on his outstretched hand a little. 

“And you are?” 

At this point, you’re wishing you were in space so you could throw yourself out an airlock, but instead you’re here embarrassing yourself.

You smile awkwardly and take his hand; it’s warm, solid, and oddly comforting, despite everything. You finally tell him your name and he repeats it softly, his warm brown eyes roving your face as if to commit it to memory. 

“Great to meet you,” he says softly, smiling as he lets go of your hand.

“Likewise,” you agree, flushing when you notice that his attention is still fixed on you.

He seems to realize he’s staring and looks away, the tips of his ears reddening as he clears his throat. 

“You heading inside?” he asks, gesturing toward the mess hall door a little awkwardly. 

You nod, shooting him a small smile, grateful for the change in subject. He glances away briefly as if nervous before meeting your eyes again. 

“I, uh, was about to head in there too. You want some company?” 

You blink at him in confusion as you could’ve sworn he was heading away from the mess hall when you’d walked up, but you must’ve been mistaken; it’s not like Poe Dameron would make up an excuse to have a meal with you, right? 

You smile again and nod. “That’d be great.” 

He smiles at you again and you swear to the Maker that it’s like the sun and—shit, you think, you might be developing a little bit of a crush on Poe kriffing Dameron (and he might just be developing one on you too).

Review (pretty please)?

🌟 Masterlist 🌟

i am no longer doing a taglist. please follow @charmingupdates for updates and turn on notifications.

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron fic #poe dameron reader insert #my fic

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

Can you explain in detail how Hinazumi are the perfect catalysts for each other's character developments?

//Ok, so I really just mean this in a context outside of DR2, because the actual potential is never really explored. The number of canonical interactions outside of the FTE's that Hajime and Mahiru have is actually fairly minimal, but here's how I see it.

//If you don't take this post at face value...that's fine, I don't expect you to. I'm just explaining how things look from my perspective on things.

//From Mahiru's perspective, her own problems originate from the fact that she grew up pretty lonely and has a very skewed idea about how people are supposed to act based on their gender. The reason why she's so harsh towards most guys is because she sets very high expectations for how they're supposed to act; usually to be tough and to protect girls, and she thinks that men and women need to have some sort of symbiotic relationship. But this is a VERY problematic mindset due to the things it makes Mahiru say and do. She snaps at boys for even the smallest slight and berates them, meanwhile she would probably let Hiyoko get away with murder, and never calls her out when she's horrible, even towards people like Mikan.

//This is different with Hajime. In Mahiru's Free Time Events it's pretty clear that whether you see it as romantic or not (Mahiru DOES confess to Hajime at the end of her island mode, but putting that aside) Hajime describes how he feels "not a single atom of awkwardness" at the suggestion that they would carry on their relationship after leaving the island, and Mahiru promises to give him her old camera, something that matters to her a lot based on the dialogue.

//In a post-DR2 setting, Hajime is the one guy who I think can calmly give Mahiru a reality check and berate her on her own unfortunate quirks the same way she does to most people, WITHOUT earning her wrath. Mahiru trusts Hajime, as shown in the FTE's, and it's not the same kind of forced trust in others that Danganronpa does normally where it's just through the power of friendship. They're hesitant to call each other "friends" at first because of Mahiru's high-strung look at the world, but the fact that in spite of that and how she initially sees Hajime as unreliable, she still puts her faith in him, trusting him with things like her camera and Nagito's food. And the reason is because she thinks he IS reliable, she just doesn't outright say it.

//So in that manner, Hajime is a good catalyst for Mahiru to sort of...simmer down and face herself, to figure out what's wrong with her and what she can improve. Especially when Hajime had to do that to literally save all their lives at the end of DR2. I think she would be inspired by that.

//Then there's how it is from Hajime's perspective, which actually takes a lot of this ^^^ into account.

//By all intents and purposes, besides Nagito (which even then is debatable) Mahiru is the closest thing to a "normal" person in Danganronpa 2. Her talent as a Photographer is brought up a lot, but aside from that and her own ideals, she's just a really normal girl who relates to Hajime in a lot of ways. So in that regard, I can see them being close initially.

//Hajime's big issue post DR2 is having to cope with the enormous weight that he bears on his shoulders. Not only is he now the de facto leader of a group of ex-terrorists, and holds himself responsible for their actions, but he has so much trauma to cope with. Including, but not limited to, Chiaki's death, his actions in causing the tragedy, having been the one to corrupt the program in the first place, and also being primarily responsible in the goal to redeeming his squad, as well as the fact that he now has infinite Ultimate talents, can do anything, and now needs to figure out what he's going to do about THAT.

//Hajime signed himself up for all of this and he's more than willing to live with his choices, but he feels he has to basically having to cope with the belief that he's one of the biggest piece of shit guys in the world, and is also a veritable god. Two things that Mahiru KNOWS he's not.

//As I said already, Mahiru TRUSTS Hajime for the kind of person he is naturally; a guy that she can depend on. So when Hajime thinks he's not worth it, or when he thinks he's a problem, it then becomes Mahiru's job to be there for him and remind him that this really isn't the case.

//I don't think I really point this out enough, but there's one very important thing about Hajime and Izuru that sets them apart. Both of them have infinite Ultimate Talents, and because of it, struggle to find excitement in anything they do in their lives, because everything just comes naturally to them. But Hajime has been able to overcome this problem, and it's for one key reason: He's doing it with his FRIENDS.

//We can kind of see this in the current arc with Izuru's own brand of character development now that he's in control of Hajime's body. Hope's Peak erased Hajime's personality from the ground up to remove any emotional weaknesses that his personality would have, leaving Izuru as a blank slate. But now that Hajime's gone, Izuru is spending time with the likes of Chiaki, Akane and Mahiru, and he's actually DEVELOPED as a result. He smiles when he's with Chiaki, he enjoys spending time with her, and he's very charitable towards the others even though he sticks with a stone face. He's becoming less of a force and more of a PERSON thanks to spending quality time with Hajime's friends.

//Hajime has lifelong friends by his side, and the Remnants are so close they're basically a family. Isolation is his WEAKNESS. Without his friends or some sort of companion by his side, Hajime is just left with that boring reality that he's good at everything and there's no excitement or joy in his life. The source of that excitement comes from doing things TOGETHER with the people he cares about.

//And Mahiru KNOWS this, since her ideals about men and women that Hajime would help her work out of comes from that same isolation. Growing up, her mother was mostly absent due to being a war photographer and out of the country all the time, her father didn't really take care of the house, her, or himself, and her only good friend growing up prior to Hope's Peak was Sato. She's also, supposedly, been cut off from a lot of people because of her talents as a photographer, even though she herself is a fairly normal person.

//Mahiru knows what it's like be lonely, and she knows what it's like to be seen for your talent and nothing else. She's probably the ONLY one who understands Hajime's specific circumstances of having so much pressure on him and not feeling like he can share it, and that's not a fate that she would wish on him. Which is why she's the perfect person to help him through it.

//Honestly, it feels stupid that I ever thought anyone other than Mahiru could be Hajime's girlfriend for this specific series.

-Mod

#mod #hinazumi

[macravishedbymactavish]

Social Butterfly | Antisocial Moth (Keegan Russ x GN! Reader)

TW: A little bit of swearing? Total imposter syndrome for the social butterfly bits as the authors personality aligns closer to Keegan's. Creative liberties taken in backstories as there's next to nothing from the games.

Blog HQ

What do laws of physics and horoscopes have in common? Both say opposites attract.

Which may be the reason why you're sitting at lunch in the mess hall, chatting with the 3rd person that approached your table while your boyfriend sat silently beside you. In the span of 30 minutes.

"No way, of course did." You smiled, laughing at Harper's story about her middle child -- Noah who has been desperately trying to keep up with a girl he likes during gym class. Because if we run together af the same speed, then I get to talk to her more.

"He's gotten better, told me he shaved 5 seconds off his total time last week" the two of you chuckled. Your food barely touched, despite your boyfriend being almost done his. "Oh anyway, I should get going and let you eat. See you, bye Keegan!" He gave a short nod and awkward smile, as you bid your colleague goodbye.

"Oh my gosh, I love her. Her kids are so cute" you smiled over to the quiet man beside you. Like with your past 2 interactions at this lunch alone, Keegan was provided with context and background on all of them. Such as:

Parker - who recently got a new dog named Ranger. 6 month old Husky who argues with him on the daily. The dog is so cute babe, can we get one? Our dog and his dog could be best friends! Then Logan can bring Riley over for a playdate and all the dogs would be so happy. Please!

Then Finn - his girlfriend, Raven (your favourite mechanic on base who he will HAVE to meet) just got home from visiting her friends from back home. He really wants to propose but isn't quite sure if this is a good time for them. I think he should do it because they are literally soulmates.

Did he really care about any of this information? Not overly. Keegan was your opposite. Preferring a smaller, tighter knit social circle than knowing everyone on base. Even if that meant you teasing him about his social circle consisting of his team, even then he didn't know a whole lot of details about them.

"I know plenty about them" He argued one night while getting ready for bed.

"Yeah? Like what?" You challenged, leaning back on the bed, watching your boyfriend roll his eyes. He was the antisocial moth to your social butterfly.

"Uh Merrick started in the seals before he was a Ghost. Knew me since I was 18, so he's pretty much my family. Loves cats, camping and his kids" You raised an eyebrow, internally adding that his wife was the best baker you've met, and that his son played hockey for many years while his daughter played soccer.

"Ajax is the most stubborn, kindest asshole I've had the pleasure of working with. Extremely smart, one of the best mentors and friends I've had" His in-laws also own the local bar downtown and donate meals to the local homeless shelters every week. His partner plans on taking over the buisness one day to continue the good deeds.

"Uh Elias knows his stuff. I couldn't ask for a better commander. Been through hell and back but continues putting the team first, he's also the one who recruited me onto the team". He also lost his wife 8 years after his youngest was born and has been balancing his life between raising 2 sons and commanding a team. He feels bad every so often feeling like he didn't give them a proper childhood, or forcing David to grow up a little too fast to take care of his brother. Even though he loves the bond the two have formed. He is the dad friend of every social circle.

"Logan is good, young and full of potential. Doesn't say much, but knows what he wants out of life and is working his ass off toward getting it. Picks up on things extremely quick, has your back at all times, loves Riley and any other animal he comes across. A bit on the quiet side but that's not a bad thing" You laughed softly, realizing every single description Keegan has given you so far is 95% work related; so continuing in the current format. You bit your lip, in an attempt not to add that Logan was a very sweet kid, of minimal words as your boyfriend pointed out, sure. But he told you once that he hoped to make his family proud with what he was doing. Then got extremely red the day you and his brother told him just how proud everyone is of him.

"What's so funny over there, chuckles?" Keegan smiled at you, walking over to join you in the bed. Opting to lay between your thighs with his head on your stomach. Fingers automatically going to his hair, you felt him relax into your touch.

"I think it's funny that everything was work related. They do lead lives off base, like you and me" you felt him shrug silently. "You forgot about Hesh and Kick". Not bothering to move, he continued.

"Everyone in California knows Hesh's life story, and Kick is just a smartass". He had you there. "And not everyone is as open and talkative as you hun."

--

"Hey, it's been so long I've seen you. How have you been?" Another competitor entered the ring that was your shared table.

"It's been tiring, honestly. Coming back to work from extended leave has killed our motivation" hand finding Keegan's under the table, you were immediately engulfed in conversation with another face he didn't recognize. Lunch forgotten as your interest in the subject grew.

It was when Hesh Walker (the only person on base who held a candle to your social attitude) joined that Keegan decided he was done with lunch. Squeezing your hand 3 times under the table (a silent "I love you") he got up.

"See you guys" he responded to the 3 voices bidding him goodbye, as he went to drop his tray off before leaving.

"Tell me, how is it that the quietest soldier ended up dating the one of the loudest ones?" He heard Kick ask from behind him, walking alongside Elias and Merrick. "Your person could talk to a brick wall and become best friends with it in under 5 minutes". Keegan shrugged, falling in step with the group.

"They bring out the best side of our dear old Keegan though" Merrick clapped him on the shoulder with a mischievous grin. He found it rather comical watching you and Keegan out in a social atmosphere.

You working the room, chatting with anyone and everyone. Remembering random details about most people you've talked to. Him quietly watching you from across the room, or by your side nodding along to conversation. Things none of the senior team would've expected from their sniper 3 years ago, before he met you.

"Yeah. They're pretty great" Keegan smiled, allowing himself to fade into the background and listen to the conversation in front of him turn to whatever sports game the guys watched last night.

Your personalities may be day and night from one another, but he wouldn't give it up for th-

"Keeg! We aren't done talking about the dog we're going to adopt" he heard you yell from somewhere behind him. Causing him to freeze in place as the men in front of him began laughing. Feeling his face burn, knowing all passing eyes were now on either him or his ball of energy jogging up behind him.

But what can he say, opposites clearly attract.

Taglist: @bloodonmyhands-1221 @ai-luni

#call of duty ghosts #logan walker #david hesh walker #keegan p russ #cod logan #keegan russ x reader #cod keegan

[pumpkincarriage3]

In The Old Bazaar | Jamil Viper X Reader (Valentine's Special)

Prompt - (Characters) keep bumping into the same stranger for months. Finally, one of them says hello.

Synopsis: (Y/n) saw Jamil a lot when walking through the Bazaar with their friends. Jamil saw (Y/n) a lot when he was walking through the Bazaar with his own friends. Both witnessing to some rather interesting scenes. Until finally one of them says hello.

Extra: The reader is not Yuu. The Reader is also gender-neutral in this.

(Y/n) first noticed him when they were out buying fruit. He was messing around with a group of his friends. He was relatively calm compared to the rowdiness of the rest of the group.

He was beautiful. Momentarily, (Y/n) considered asking what products he used for his hair, that swayed softly by his side. But in the end, they dismissed the thought. They were strangers, and he didn't seem like the type to interact with someone like them anyways.

When Jamil first saw them, they were clapping at a 'magic' show. They were keeping a good distance from the actual performer, compared to some of the others that were clearly tourists. A smart decision, since street performers were known for pickpocketing off of others. Besides thinking they were a bit loud, Jamil never spared them another thought.

The next time (Y/n) saw him, the calm image they had of the mystery boy was completely shattered. For he had set an entire stall on fire, screaming about some bug with a little girl next to him, that looked incredibly similar to himself, that was yelling at him to knock it off in a panic.

(Y/n) couldn't help the laughter that left their lips at the sight. An entire stall going up in flames wasn't funny, but for it being such a small reason as a bug was hilarious. And (Y/n) found that the long brown haired boy didn't feel nearly as intimidating as before.

The next time Jamil had seen them had been when he had sat the stall on fire. He heard someone off in the distance laughing, and his eyes had snapped over in a fury. Later he would scoff to himself at someone finding the situation to be humorous. And when he realized he vaguely recognized the person, he came to the decision that they must be a carefree individual. 

The next time (Y/n) saw him, he was helping out a couple, potential his parents, with buying wares from the various stalls. He followed and listened diligently, not once making a misstep. Holding himself with a certain grace that (Y/n) wished to have.

When Jamil had next seen them, they were giving a melon to one of the street performers that he had seen. Jamil couldn't decide if it was an act of kindness, since street performers typically had to steal because they didn't make a lot of money. Or an act of foolishness, since that was practically asking to get robbed.

They both noticed one another at the fireworks festival. It being costumery to dance to the fireworks in the sky and music in the air. He danced with a practiced ease. While they danced in a manner that made it clear they were having fun. And on such a night, (Y/n) had bumped into the dancing boy, sending them both tumbling to the ground.

They sent the annoyed boy an embarrassed smile and squeaked out a--

"Hi." A awkward grin spreading across their lips. Jamil huffed at them, a little annoyed. But in the end he stayed and talked. The awkward beginnings of friendship. And neither were aware that the other had been watching them for months.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twst fandom #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #Disney twst wonderland #Jamil Viper #twst jamil #twst jamil viper #jamil viper x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #valentine's special

[idv-brainrot-go-brr]

Safe haven

Chapter 1: Damage assessment

Pairing: Andrew x reader (m or nb)

Additional Info: Reader is a librarian trying to fix the manor's library

Content: fluff, (slightly) awkward conversation, Andrew having a terrible habit of hovering over people's shoulder

Chapter 1/?

Word count: 3k

Libraries have a certain scent to them. Entering one of those magical rooms filled to the brim with knowledge will make you think of wood and dust and chimney fire and a cup of excellently brewed tea with just the right amount of milk and sugar added. Or perhaps it will remind you of times spent with with friends at school, university perhaps if you ever made it that far. Many of the survivors could be found in the manor’s library room when they were in search of a quiet place to calm their fears and anxieties. Very few people were actually interested in the wide array of books stored in the massive shelves reaching all the way to the ceiling. One would certainly need a ladder or at least a chair if they were to aspire reading one of the higher stored ones. But again, most people didn’t quite care. Of course the manor’s library section wasn’t quite as large as the libraries belonging to the high class universities or private academies, but you still thought it was rather nice.

The games, the anticipation, the fear would drive everyone mad sooner or later. Everyone needed a spot to hide and calm their thoughts when they were starting to feel like world was collapsing around them. Some people chose the garden, others chose the dining area. One time you’d walked past the stairs and saw someone just sitting there by themselves staring off into the distance. It was a little odd, but if it helped then you weren’t one to judge. Your choice, naturally, was the library.

Although perfectly capable of reading and understanding the vast majority of the literature there, most of the time the mind would be too scattered to focus on the events detailed on the pages. Jane Eyre, Pride and Prejudice, Frankenstein and many more. The manor had an assortment of reasonably popular and reasonably recent literature. Yet still, one had to question how these books got here even though the manor seemed to have been abandoned quite some time ago. Furthermore, if they were not all that old, why were the pages rotting? You had discovered the moisture in the library on accident, pulled a book out of the shelf out of curiosity and discovered the horrible state it was in. So your place of refuge had given you the job to save its books. Well, not like you had much else to do here.

But how do you fast-dry out a library? Especially if you’re all by yourself?

Your first instinct was to open the windows, of course. However, this had cooled the room and the connecting hallway down to such a degree that the others had began complaining about the cold. So the windows were closed again. Instead, your attention turned to the fireplace. It was hardly ever in use, mostly because no one knew for certain that it was safe. When was the last time it had been cleaned? No one here felt like dying of smoke poisoning. Still, in terms of eliminating the moisture it was probably your best bet, and so you began your noble quest to find some firewood.

The grave keeper, although he came here to make friends, didn’t always dare to interact with others. In fact, he hardly dared to do so at all. Some of the other players seemed scared of him, others seemed thoroughly uninterested in interacting with anyone else, so this left him with a very small handful of individuals he might potentially talk to. It also left him with an abundance of free time, which he mostly spent outside. The manor, despite its enormous size, felt much too claustrophobic.

That’s how he ended up watching one of his fellow players spend hours chopping wood. The person in question, obviously, was you, his probably favourite person here, entirely oblivious to the fact that someone had been observing you the whole time. You didn’t notice him approaching either, did not notice him standing close to you for quite a while until he could muster the courage to speak:

“Do you need help?”

In surprise, you lowered your axe and turned to him. He was taller than you, though not by much, and his posture was horrible. He stood slouched over, as if he was uncomfortable with his own height.

“I’ll need help carrying it inside later, if you’re eager to find something to do,” you responded.

“You’ll bring it to the storage room first, right?” he inquired.

“To let it dry, yes. I’ll take some of the dry wood up to the library with me later, so I figured I’d need to restock if I don’t want to invoke the wrath of everyone living here,” you explained.

Andrew nodded, then began picking up the wood you’d already chopped to begin carrying it inside. Now that you were looking up, you realized how much it actually was. How long had you been doing this? Goodness gracious, no wonder he’d come over to ask. You must have looked absolutely mental. A glance up to the sky told you that the sun had wandered quite far since you’d come out here. Indeed, you must have looked crazy. Well, it was nice of him to help. Your attention returned to the unchopped logs you still planned to take care of, and while you were working on stocking up enough to survive the entirety of winter in seclusion, Andrew busied himself by carrying pile by pile inside. Once you were finished, you returned the axe to its place in the shed and joined him. Your paths didn’t allign immediately, they were polar opposites at the beginning of it all, but bit by pit they synced up, until both of you were walking quietly side by side.

“It’s very nice of you to help me,” you remarked.

“Why do you want to heat up the library?” he asked suddenly, then blinked harshly, as if he was surprised at himself for changing the subject so quickly.

You raised an eyebrow at that, but made no further comment.

“I noticed that the room is too moist to store books in there. I want to dry it out before anything starts growing mold and we loose all of the books. It’d be a shame, don’t you think?” you responded.

“A shame, yes,” he replied before you both grew silent again.

The man’s thought process was a mystery to you, but once you’d brought all of the freshly chopped and still slightly wet logs inside, he began picking up some of the already-dried wood and made his way to the library. Andrew alone, being used to a physically demanding job, could carry much more than you would be able to even if you took several tours. Honestly, it was pretty impressive. In the end, the library's fireplace was stocked and you began starting a fire. It was silent between the two of you still, no words exchanged and no noise being made other than the cracking and occasional sizzling of the burning wood. Right, maybe it hadn't been that dry after all then. You stood with your arms crossed, watching the fire with an expression of intense focus. Would this be enough? Would this get the job done?

"You said the-" Andrew finally began speaking but was interrupted quite immediately by how you jumped when he did so. When had he moved from standing in the door frame to standing right behind you? Good God, this man was so tall and so strong, how was he so quiet? Why did he feel the need to sneak up on people?! While you were trying to calm your racing heart and slow your rapid breath, Andrew was tripping over his own tongue in trying to apologize. Eventually, you had to intervene.

"It's fine, Andrew. I just didn't expect you to be so close," you stated. "Please, what were you going to say?" you asked with the customer service smile that had ruled your expression during every day of your work.

Yet instead of answering, he remarked that: "You know my name?" as if it was the most remarkable achievement in human history.

You raised an eyebrow again. "Of course I know your name. So, what did you want to say?"

"If the library is moist, the water needs to come from somewhere," he finally shared his thought.

You tilted your head slightly. "Go on?"

"We're two floors above the basement and three below the roof if we count the attic. The moisture needs to come from somewhere," he said.

This was true, actually. A thought you hadn't considered yet. Where was the moisture coming from? It was one thing to dry out the room to the best of your abilities, but at the end of the day, it wouldn't do much if the root problem wouldn't be fixed. It was impossible for the moisture to come up from the floor, so your next course of action was naturally to look up. No, there was no visible water damage anywhere on the ceiling, you began walking around the room just to be sure. No visible water damage. So if it wasn't the floor or the ceiling, that left the windows and the walls. Somehow, you were hoping to find the fault with the windows, because fixing those would be much easier. You felt around them, felt the walls and eventually stepped on the window sill to reach as high as possible. While there was some condensation around the glass and frame, the wall was dry. So it wasn't the windows. That left the walls. Great.

"I'm going to have to move all of the shelves now," you sighed loudly, complaining to no one but yourself. Unfortunately, you seemed to have forgotten that Andrew was still in the room with you, and once again jumped when his voice answered you from right behind you.

"I can help-" he paused "Sorry."

"No it's alright, don't apologize. I'd appreciate it if you would help me. You don't have to though" you responded, trying once again to calm down from your third Andrew-induced heart attack that day.

"The books are in pretty bad shape over here," you explained as you began walking "so if the moisture is coming from the wall we'll probably have to move the shelves to see what's going on."

Once again in silence, you began. Both of you started taking the books out of one of the shelves that covered the wall on the right side. He reached for the higher ones instinctively and you weren't sure if this was him being genuinely helpful or if this was a quiet demonstration of "look I'm taller than you". Either way, it saved you from having to go up on that dreadful chair that threatened to break under you every single time. Even with Andrew's height though, you decided to leave in the upper two rows of books, figuring that between the two of you, you'd be strong enough to move it anyway.

"You're in here a lot," remarked Andrew eventually while you were both clearing out the books. The comment surprised you a bit. Many people came in here, all the time. How did he pay attention to you specifically? Especially if he never seemed to be around.

"I suppose? Maybe? Most people come here at some point. Some more often than others. But you're right, I spend most of my time in this room. I used to be a librarian before I came to this manor, so I suppose it makes sense. Libraries feel very comforting to me. It's like my safe haven. What about you? I rarely see you anywhere"

"I'm not good at reading"

"Most people don't read, they just enjoy the space and the silence."

"I don't like the manor. It's" he paused in both his words as well as his movement as he tried to find the correct phrases to express what he was feeling. "I fell like if I stay in here too long, the walls will collapse. I can't breathe in here"

"Oh" Well that was terrifying. "You don't have to help me you know? If it makes you uncomfortable to be in here you can go, you already helped enough I'll be fine on my own," you responded, offering a reassuring smile so he wouldn't feel guilt-tripped into staying.

He looked at you quietly for a moment.

"No, I want to stay. I want to help"

"Alright then. Thank you. It's appreciated."

Once everything was out of the way, you could see that there was some discolouration in the wallpaper pretty high up. You reached up to touch it, but found that there was a depressing distance between the tip of your fingers and the assumably moist spot. Andrew wouldn't be tall enough to reach it either, with the amount of distance there was left.

Right. So. wobbly chair it was then. You dragged it over to the now exposed wall, but before you could step on it to reach up, Andrew reached out and applied minimal pressure on one end of the backrest. Immediately, the chair tipped slightly to the side. He then slightly pulled it, making the chair cave again immediately, shifting to the other side. Apparently, not all four of the chair legs were even.

"You can't stand on that" he concluded.

"But I need to see it up close. I need to know how bad it is," you retorted.

"I'll lift you up." he decided.

"What" It wasn't a question asking him to repeat himself. You had heard him very clearly. You were just absolutely flabbergasted at the suggestion.

"I'd rather hold you up than let you stand on that chair."

"I don't think that will be necessary."

"You used to be a librarian. I used to be a grave keeper. We're returning you to your occupation, not mine"

That.... was a fair point. Alright then.

Andrew lifted you up by your waist, then leaned you against his shoulder to instead hold onto your thighs. You, who had been digging your nails into the wall for stability this whole time, could really not see how this was any safer or more stable than the chair you had initially wanted to use, but alright then. You were significantly higher up, after all, so you supposed that it had worked. But also, how come he could just lift a grown person this high up? He'd basically thrown you against the ceiling and was now casually supporting your entire body weight with his arms. He had a physically demanding job, yes, but still. This was just ridiculous.

"You're lucky that I'm not a woman," you commented, attempting to make a joke to make the conversation less awkward for yourself mostly, but unfortunately it backfired. Thanks to your words he realised not only that you were awfully close, but also realised where exactly he was touching. Andrew then proceeded to nearly drop you in shock.

How.was.this.any.safer.than.the.chair.

Anyway, he muttered a quiet apology and you told him it was fine, before straightening up again to inspect the wall. The wallpaper was so soggy that you could easily rip it and tear a bit off. There was a horizontal streak of soggy wall. It was basically impossible for this to be caused by a leak in the roof or anything. The water wasn't coming from above or below, it seemed to go through the wall from left to right. you peeled back the wallpaper until you were faced with what you had been expecting: wet stone.

"I think there's a leaking pipe behind this wall," you shared your thoughts, then placed an ear against the stone. Yeah, running water. Quiet dripping noises too.

"You can put me down now, thank you," you said and the grave keeper slowly lowered you to the ground once more. He didn't seem like this had been a physically demanding task at all. Makes one wonder how much muscle he was hiding under that awfully big coat of his. Not like you'd ever find out. Though really, you were curious about it.

A leaking pipe was an issue though. Technically, to fix it you'd have to tear open the wall, and even then there was probably no one here who had the necessary knowledge to fix this. The mechanic maybe? But then again she was the mechanic and not the plumber. You'd have to go upstairs later and check which room the pipe was coming from. Most likely one of the bathrooms. Maybe you could negotiate with the others not to use it anymore so that you wouldn't have to relocate the entire library. But that was a thought for then. Thought for later, because for today you were done with this.

So for now, you turned to Andrew.

"Right, well, thank you again"

"You're welcome," he responded. He hesitated for a few moments before he continued speaking, seemingly wanting to say more. "It's good that you have a place you like. A... safe haven, you called it."

You just nodded, unsure of what to say in response to that. So now there was silence between you, a silence that got increasingly awkward as time went on. Eventually, he decided that he had to do something about it so he turned to leave. Just as he was about to reach the door, your brain suddenly made a very impulsive decision, and so you called out to him:

"Andrew?"

He turned to look at you again.

"You said you don't come here often because you can't read well. I could teach you if you want. I mean, I could practise with you. You know?"

Both of you were stunned at this suggestion. You were surprised that you actually said that out loud and Andrew was surprised that people would willingly spend time with him.

"I would like that, I think," he responded, although somewhat hesitantly.

You nodded. "Right, then, how about tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow is good," he agreed. If you looked closely, you could spot the tiniest smile on his features. For some reason, this made you very happy.

"I'll see you tomorrow then"

And with that he disappeared.

Right. Until tomorrow then.

#idv #identity v #idv fanfic #identity v fanfic #idv x reader #identity v x reader #andrew kreiss x reader

[flyingraijin]

sunshine | part II

Summary: Hanta just wants to marry you. In hindsight, it's been a long time coming.

Pairing: Hanta Sero x fem!reader

Warnings: Alternate timelines, friends to lovers/established relationship, swearing, smut

Word Count: 11 684

Part 2 of 4 | Masterlist

Note: Once again, I edited this in a rush. But it's finally up, after months and months :)

13 years old

The strong sting of antiseptic is what slaps you in the face the moment that you step into the school nurse's room. The whole place has always been uncomfortably sterile, with barely a human touch anywhere to ward off the artificial feeling of the room. You don't turn away though, despite how you'd like to, and instead move deeper into the room to allow the nervous boy behind you to follow you through the door. 

"R-really," Sero says, coming to stand awkwardly in front of the single, metal-framed examination bed. "It's okay. You don't need to-" 

You pay him no mind, however, as you step over in the direction of the medicinal cabinet. It's unlocked, open for student to use if need be - although the school is always very cautious about keeping potentially dangerous medication or equipments so readily available- and you already have your sights set on a roll of thin bandages before you even pull open the glass door. 

"Sit," you tell Sero over your shoulder as you gather what you need. "It's okay, I can take care of this." 

Sero lets out a muffled grunt, words you can not decipher and don't try to. However, then comes the telltale creaking of springs that lets you know he's done as you suggested and taken a seat on the bed. 

There's a tension in the room, between the both of you. But you don't fully understand what it is. Quite possibly, it has something to do with the fact that you were sitting in his lap not ten minutes ago, although that's not something you really want to acknowledge. All you can tell is that, once you've got your hands full of antiseptic spray, Bactroban and bandages, and you turn back around only to accidentally meet his eyes, you can't help but blush a little bit and look away. 

God, this is embarrassing. 

Sero shifts a little uncomfortably on the bed as you go to set the stuff down beside him. His long legs are slightly spread, with his forearms resting on his thighs and his spine a little hunched. Visibly, he's tense and uncomfortable, and while you chalk it up to the pain of his scratch, you know it's probably more than that too. 

He probably thinks you're a real idiot. 

You sigh softly and busy yourself with tearing away the plastic wrapper that covers the roll of bandage. You don't blame him, honestly - you had absolutely come across as a total airhead back there, stuttering and tripping over Yuuta like an absolute mess. You don't even want to begin to imagine what Yuuta himself must think, all things considered, and it makes your cheeks flush with an even fiercer heat when you feel Hanta's gaze on the side of your head.

You push through it though, as best you can, because even if he does think you're pretty stupid, you don't have to interact with him ever again after this if you don't want to. 

At least, that's what you tell yourself. 

"Can you roll your sleeve up a little higher?: you ask him in a soft voice as you go to take another look at the long scratch. Sero does as you ask, or tries at least. The fabric of his jumper goes up to just before the crook of his elbow and no further, even when he tries to tug at it. 

"That, uh, as far as it'll go," Sero mumbles then and when you glance up at his face, he looks away, embarrassed. "My - My quirk… it can't… Well, it's, uh, in the way." 

"Oh," is all you can muster in return because it's all just so awkward. You honestly feel like you're being suffocated. 

Thankfully, despite the resistance, his sleeve does go up high enough for you to see the entire scratch. It's worse when you look at it close, and is bleeding even more heavily now. Something squeamish twinges in the back of your mind, but you push it away and lean over to pick up the antiseptic spray and cotton wads. 

"I'm sorry," you apologise to him, more to be polite than anything else. "This will probably sting quite a bit." 

Hanta just shakes his head. "It's okay, I can handle the pain." 

Even so, his face still screws up when you begin to clean the scratch with the antiseptic spray. 

You feel the twinge of guilt as your eye flicker from his arm to his face and then back to his arm. It's so obvious he's trying to put on a tough face for your sake, despite the fact that it's your fault that he's here in the first place. You might feel awkward around him, but it's not as if you dislike Sero. And it's because of this - and to have an excuse of breaking the smothering silence - that you speak. 

"You've got pretty insane reflexes. You caught me really quickly." 

Sero gulps, his hand tensing into a fist for a second before relaxing. "Uh, yeah," he answers, attempt to talk through the sting. "I-it's something I've been training tor a while. I mean, naturally I've got pretty fast reaction time but I've been working on them even more now." 

"You've been training?" you ask, feigning curiosity to keep him distracted. "Any particular reason why?" 

"Ah, well," he replies and you notice a notable slump in his tense shoulders. "It's all a part of my preparation to take the UA entrance exam next year." 

"UA?" This time, your interest is genuinely peaked and you look up from what you're doing to meet his eyes. He looks back at you, and for the first time ever you don't think you see a waver in his gaze. He must be comfortable talking about this topic. 

"You want to go to UA?" 

"I do," Sero confirms with a nod of his head. "It's kind of… all I've ever wanted to do." 

"The hero course? Or something different?" you question before you can stop yourself. Sero blinks at your eagerness. 

"The hero course," he confirms.

"So you wanna be a pro-hero?" 

Sero nods again and raises a hand to scratch awkwardly at the back of his head. "Since I was little, yeah," he mumbles. "It's kind of… my dream?" 

He says it like a very bashful, very embarrassed question, and yet you can't help but smile at it. You did not know this about Sero at all; the fact that he wanted to go into UA's hero course was not something you'd ever even considered as a possibility. Not that you had any reason to, since you and he had only interacted to the very bare minimum before now. However, for some odd reason, the knowledge that he too is applying to UA high-school, come next year autumn, sends a warmth flooding through your chest. Suddenly, you don't feel as alone. 

"That's really cool," you tell him, offering a bright smile. Then it turns sheepish. "Sorry about all the questions. I guess I'm just curious because I also wanna go to UA." 

"You do?" The way he perks up so suddenly reminds you of a literal puppy. "You want to go to UA?" 

"Yeah," you tell him, still smiling. You set the antiseptic spray down, finished with cleaning up his arm and go to grab the roll of bandage. "Not the hero course though. I'm hoping to get into the support course." 

"The support course?" Sero's expression falters only briefly as you begin to wind the soft white cloth tightly around his forearm. "You like that stuff." 

You nod mildly, your focus now on wrapping the bandage as evenly as possible. "Yeah. I've been into all those gadgety things since I was a kid. Although," you repress a small snort, "I didn't always know it." 

When you glance back up at Sero, he gives you a questioning look and it prompts you to continue. "When I was younger," you explain, "I always thought I was gonna be a hero. I was really obsessed with certain pros, like Ereasurehead and Sir Nighteye - the heroes who relied a lot on support items. I thought it would be so cool to have all the gadgets and stuff. I went all the way up until elementary school convinced I was going to become a pro-hero. Until in sixth grade, when I tried to build Erasurehead's capture weapon for a science fair, and I realised that what I was actually interested in was the support gear." 

You can't help but chuckle to yourself at the memory, taken back to that day when you'd stood with the first place rosette pinned to your shirt, holding your prized capture weapon in front of all the other participants of the fair, having a crisis over the fact that your entire career plan had been turned on its head. 

"I haven't looked back since then," you continue with a shrug. "And since UA's got the best support course around, I figured that where I'd aim to be." 

When you stop talking, you realise that Sero is looking at you with an odd expression on his face. There's a warmth in his eyes you haven't seen before and you almost want to say he's on the verge of smiling, with the way the corner of his mouth his tilted upwards. 

"I didn't know that at all," he admits, almost a little sheepish. You shrug in response, reaching out for a piece of tape to stick down the edge if the bandage with. 

"I didn't expect you to. I don't talk about it much, not even to my friends. It's kind of like my little secret."

Which makes it pretty odd that you'd just spilled your guts to someone who's in essence a total stranger, you realise suddenly, although you don't say it out loud. 

Sero flexes his hand once you stand back, the bandage finally secure and settled in place. The clean whiteness of the fabric stands out in start contrast against his olive toned skin, and you can't help but feel a little guilty again as you look at it. 

"Thank you," Sero says, and his voice sounds much stronger than it had when you'd first spoken to him earlier in the day. "I... Yeah, thanks." 

"It's no problem," you tell him, shaking your head as you begin to pack up what you'd taken from the cupboard. "The least I could do after I caused that whole mess." 

He just shakes his head slightly in response, scratching at his hair once again. And then, when you reach for the cupboard door, he slides off the bed onto his feet and opens it for you without a word.

You nod in appreciation to him as you put the things way. And then he closes the door again once you're done, leaving the both of you standing alone in the small room with empty hands and nothing more to do.

Like a ton of bricks, the awkwardness returns. 

"I, uh," you start, twisting your fingers together as you look from him to the door and back again. "Well, I guess I'd better get going." 

"Yeah," he says quietly in reply and you're almost disappointed that he doesn't try to stop you. "Me too." 

"So… see you around?" 

He nods and you just about ready to turn on your heel and bolt, wanting nothing more than to put as much distance between yourself and this horribly uncomfortable afternoon as possible. 

However, you're stopped short by a soft hand reaching out to grip your wrist. 

Sero says you name tentatively and for a second you swear something inside you just melts . 

"I, uh, liked talking to you today," Sero mumbles. When you turn around to look at him over your shoulder he's got his head down, his bangs shielding his eyes. "It - it was nice to get to know you a little. So, um… thank you." 

He glances up a little and his eyes meet yours. Both of you are flushing immensely. 

Your heart is pounding in your chest, but not in the bad way as you turn around to face him properly. For some reason, you twist your wrist a little in his grip and then grasp at his back, your fingers feather light against his skin. 

"Yeah," you mumble out and are surprised to find your voice is just as soft as his. "Yeah, you too." 

And just like that, you realise you don't mind this afternoon too much after all. 

23 years old

Hanta's patrol that afternoon isn't one of the worst he's ever had. But it isn't one of the best either. For some reason, it seems like the entire city is out and about today, forcing him to be extra alert as he walks through the streets in his sector, on the lookout for any unsavoury activity. Nothing major happens, thank goodness, however, he is faced with a few more domestic cases that - in his opinion at least - are more difficult to deal with than actual battles with villains. A lost kid in the park, a dog stuck in a gate, a worried young father who's baby pram blew away in the wind. All are of his concern and so he deals with all as quickly and efficiently as possible, smiling happily every time the job gets done. His heart longs for home though and he can't help but breathe a deep sigh of relief when his watch finally beeps 20:00, letting him know he's due to clock off. 

The rain starts just as he's stepping through the tall glass doors at the front of his agency building, the raindrops only just catching his heels. It's warm inside the reception area of his agency, something he is both grateful for and a little apprehensive of, as it draws attention to the way the slick material of his hero suit is sticking to his body. 

It has him shifting uncomfortably as he steps into the elevator and hits the button for the basement floor, which houses the gym, locker area and, mercifully, the showers. It's not often that he regrets many choices about his hero lifestyle but when he does, his suit it usually at the forefront of them. The design has changed only a little since his high-school days and remains as skin tight as ever, something Hanta loves and hates. Loves because it's aerodynamic and allows for him to do his best work. Plus, you like it a real lot. Hates because on days like this, even having done not much but walk around, he feels sticky and grimy and absolutely desperate to hop into a steaming shower. 

Thankfully, there's no one else in the licker room when he gets there - the three sidekicks he'd hired back at the beginning of April must all have started their patrols already - and so Hanta is free to strip down and step into one of the large, clean showers without any distractions. He lets out an audible sigh as the hot water finally hits him, steam immediately beginning to rise and fog up the air around him. His muscles are tired, despite the quiet day, and Hanta can't help but eagerly await the time he can crawl into bed beside you and go to sleep. 

He's got Boys Night first though, which he remembers with a slight furrow of his eyebrows. He'd promised he would be at Boys Night this week, and he doubts Denki will forgive him is he bails for a third time in a row. His shoulders slump a little in disappointment. 

Boys Night is a tradition that has held up since he, and all the other members of Class A back at UA, graduated. Every other week the boys of Class A, and sometimes Class B too, meet up at a group-favourite izakaya for drinks and snacks and to catch up. The guest list is always rotating, and it's always been more of a "if you can make it, come along" type of thing. Hanta still tries to go as often as he can though, even if it's just to get a chance to catch up with the former classmates who he probably wouldn't have made an effort to see otherwise. 

He's had to miss the last two, though, for reasons out of his control. The first was because he'd got held up at work, when Jester, one of his sidekicks, ended up in hospital after a pretty nasty encounter with some yakuza thugs. The second time was because you'd successful completed your first major brand deal with a well-known hero and Hanta had taken you put to dinner to celebrate. Because of this, he knows Denki will be on his ass to make an appearance tonight and as much as the idea makes his shoulders sag, he doesn't really mind. It might even give him an opportunity to chat to Bakugou about the whole wedding thing (although the likelihood that Bakugou will also be there without Kirishima to force him is very low) 

There's agency issued body wash sitting on one of the small shelves built into the corner of the dower, and when Hanta reaches for it and flips the cap open, he's hit by the small of white roses. It envelopes him as he pours some of the already foamy soap into his cupped palm, his mind suddenly taken back to a faint memory from way back in his first year of high school; a dark cupboard, fingers curling into the front of his shirt, soft breathe against the shell of his ear, whispers words against his skin…

"You smell like white roses and dark chocolate."

If only he'd known back then it'd be the start of something amazing, he'd probably would've tried to take in more. But he'd been do enraptured at the time, so completely out of it over the idea of sitting in the darkness with just you for seven minutes that he hadn't stopped to appreciate it like he should have. 

He can't deny though, that t hat memory is the one that prompted him, when it came time to choose the scent of the body wash in the agency showers, to choose white rose over everything else. And every time he catches it's scent, he can't help but think back. 

He finishes up with the rest of his shower quickly, and then changes into the fresh long-sleeve v-neck and sweatpants that are ready for him in his locker. His hair falls in a wet mop against the back of his neck, sending water droplets racing down his back, and he makes his best attempt to dry at it with his tower as he hooks his bag over his arm and heads back towards the elevator. He's almost done for the day, he thinks contentedly as the floor number pings and the elevator doors slide open for him. All he needs to do is clock out and then he'll be free. The thought makes his chest warm. 

It takes about 30 seconds to reach the top floor of the agency building. There's only offices up here; his, his assistants and those of the three sidekicks. His is the largest, the last door on the right which leads out into a large square room with a corner window, several tall bookshelves and a desk that Hanta still thinks is far too important for his little old self. The room is very dark when he steps inside, since the heavy curtains are drawn against the city lights, and it takes Hanta a few moments of dropping his bag by the door and then flicking at the light switch for the upward-facing lights in each corner of the room to blaze into life. 

Logging the occurrences of his patrol on his computer doesn't take Hanta long and before he really knows it, he's hitting save and sending the file off to his assistant. The paperwork side of being a hero isn't much fun but it is relatively quick and painless for the most part. And getting it done is always incredibly satisfying. After checking to make sure there aren't aren't other outstanding forms waiting for him, he powers down his monitor once again and gets up from his desk chair. His spine pops a little as he stretches it out, and then he's sauntering back out the room, flicking off the lights as he goes. He doesn't bother to take his bag with him - he's got the early morning shift tomorrow anyway so he'll be back here first thing.

As he heads back towards the elevator, he pops his head into his assistants office. She smiles up him, evidently in the midst of clocking out herself, and says, "You heading out?" 

Hanta nods. "Yeah. Got Boys Night to get to." 

She laughs. "Well have fun. Don't drink too much." 

"You know me," Hanta snorts in response. "I never do." 

And then he's gone, strolling back towards the elevator with and easy stride, his mind already turning to the izakaya and then, later on, to his evening with you. 

As if on a cue, he feels his cellphone buzz into life in his pockets just as the elevator doors slide open. He pulls the device out as he steps inside and as the screen brightens, he's treated to a new text from you. 

Her <33 

Are you coming home before you goes to boys night? 

Hanta leans back against the cool metal of the elevator wall as he swipes open the app. His fingers zoom across the keyboard as he types out his reply. 

Me

Wasn't planing to. I'm already a little late so I thought I'd go straight there. 

If that's okay? 

The little bubble that says you're typing something back appears almost as soon as he hits send on his own message. Hanta rolls his shoulder a little as he waits for you reply, wincing as he does so when the stiffness twangs in his joint. 

Her <33 

That's fine. Are you gonna be drinking tonight? 

Me 

Nah. I'm pretty sure Denki's planning to get wasted and since Kiri won't be there, he'll need a babysitter. 

Her <33  

Lmao. Well, have fun. Don't do stupid stuff. 

Me 

When do I ever? 

Her <33  

Don't make me answer that. 

Hanta snorts at your reply and pockets his phone once again as the elevator pings to a stop. The doors slide open smoothly and he steps out, heading straight for the main doors of the agency. It's still raining outside but not as badly, and as he ducks his way out of the doors and into the downpour, he can't help but feel like this evening will be a good time. 

As Hanta had expected, he is the last one of his former classmates to arrive at the izakaya. 

The whole area is already horribly crowded by the time he steps through the door, however someone has managed to grab the usual spot he and the rest of the Class A boys always take. It's a bit of a job to pick his way through the people towards the table without accidentally elbowing someone, but Hanta manages it somehow. And when he finally stops by the table surrounded by his friends, he greeted by a flurry of smiles. 

"Hanta!" greets Denki first, loud and already sounding slightly tipsy. He offers Hanta a fist first and Hanta reciprocates, knocking how own against it. "Man, I thought you'd abandoned us!" 

Hanta rolls his eyes playfully. "As if. I was just showering and stuff after patrol." 

"Nonetheless, we are all glad to see you," says Iida, smiling. He nods his head to the empty spot next to him, which Hanta takes without complaint. "So, how have you been? It feels like I haven't seen you in far too long!" 

Hanta shrugs and gives them all a brief overview of his life in the past couple of weeks. He looks around as he talks, noticing how there's more people here than usual. Including, surprisingly, Bakugou, who's sitting looking grouchy right across the table from Hanta.

It's nice to catch up with his old school friends. Almost all the boys of Class A have chosen to come this evening, with the only exceptions being Kirishima, for obvious reasons, Shoji, because he had some appointment to get to, and Tokoyami, who is currently in hospital after an incident with Dark Shadow. Even Midoriya has made it out and Hanta spends a few very enjoyable minutes trading stories with him about a smaller hero they'd both worked with recently. 

There's a pretty obvious elephant in the room, however, and once all the relevant topics like Kirishima's baby and Bakugou's upcoming wedding have been talked thread bare, all eyes turn to look curiously at Hanta. 

"Soooo," Denki draws out, grinning lopsided as he gives Hanta a knowing - and very drunk - look. "Like I said earlier, Mr Cellophane did something very exciting today!" 

Heat rushes right to Hanta's cheeks and he just about chokes on his water as the eyes on him suddenly become even more intense. "D-Denki," he mumbles, ducking his head a little so that his bangs hide his eyes. "It's really not that big a deal." 

"Nooo, it isssss," Denki slurs and chuckles sloppily. He takes another sip of his drink and points across the table at Hanta. "Go on, tell them. It's just the boys here, no one's gonna snitch!" 

"W-well," Hanta coughs and states down into his class. "Today, Denki and I went -" 

"Me and Hanta went to the jewellery store! That really fancy on on the promenade!" Denki blurts, interrupting him. 

"Uh, yeah," Hanta says, scratching at the back of his head. "I was just planning on looking around a bit but-" 

"Hanta bought a big shiny ring," says Denki grinning. He holds up his hand and wiggles his own bare ring finger. "For his giiiiiiirlfriend ." 

The table erupts. 

 "Y-you mean like an engagement ring?" Midoriya splutters, his eyes wide. "Wow, Sero, that's-!" 

"Fucking idiot," Bakugou's grumbling but there's a sparkle in his carmine eyes. "You have no idea how much fucking planning you're in for, I swear to-" 

"That's a very big step," Iida is musing, "although you two have been together for a long time. I'm sure you've thought this through. In any case-" 

"Congratulations," says Todoroki, reaching out to place a hand on Hanta's shoulder. The calm touch centre's Hanta a bit in the chaos and he turns to give his friend a weak smile. 

"Ah, well she hasn't said yes yet so…" 

"Oh but she will!" Ojiro says encouragingly across the table. He looks around, gaining the approving nods from the others. "She's totally crazy about you. I'd be willing to bet the idea of saying no won't even cross her mind." 

"You two have been together for a long time," Bakugou butts in once again. He scowls and jerks his head in Iida's direction. "Like Four-Eyes said. You two are so perfect for each other it's disgusting." 

"We're all rooting for you," Midoriya tells him, smiling widely. 

"Not me," pipes up another voice; Mineta is sitting beside Denki, scowling unhappily."Maybe if you two break up, I'll finally be able to get my hands on that hot- mhff!

But Denki wacks him over the back of the head and knocks his nose into his drink before he can finish his sentence. 

"So when are you planning to propose?" Todoroki asks, turning back to Hanta with a curious expression. "Soon?" 

"Ah." Hanta grins nervously and rubs hard at the back of his neck. He feels a little overwhelmed, especially now that all the pairs of eyes at the table are back on him once again. It's safe to say he's given his decision quite a bit of thought, however, he feels suddenly very unprepared as he looks back at all his friends waiting faces. 

Honestly, he hasn't expected to tell anyone until after it happened. That way he could avoid all the pressure - this pressure - from people other than himself over not fucking things up. 

"Not too soon," he says eventually. "I, uh, still would like to chat to her parents about it. And mine. And… just mentally prepare myself a little, ya know?" 

There are resounding nods all around the table, and a harsh chuckle from Bakugou. The blond sits back, giving Hanta a dark look from under one arched eyebrow as a cruel smirk plays at his lips. 

"All that mental prep shit does fuck all," he says bluntly, crossing his arms decidedly over his chest. "It's gonna be the most terrifying moment of your entire life. You're gonna be scared shitless." 

Hanta feels his stomach drop a little. While it's not usually the case, he feels far more inclined to listen to advice from Bakugou than any of the other at the table, since he's the only one who has actually done the damn thing before. 

"How-" Hanta starts, then stops, swallows, tries again. "How do I… not fuck it up?" 

Something in Katsuki's jaw twitches and he leans in, looking Hanta dead in the eye. 

"I'm gonna ask you this once because I honestly don't give a shit about your stupid love life," he grumbles out.  "Do you love her?: 

"Of course," Hanta replies, only for some reason it comes out as barely more than a whisper.

"How much?" 

"More than anything," Hanta says without evening having to think. The corner of Katsuki's mouth twitches upwards. 

"Then you're already doing everything you can, shit head," he says. "The rest is up to her. So fuckin' trust her, okay?" 

"Okay," Hanta breathes back. And suddenly, he feels a hundred times better. 

Trust you . Yes, he can definitely do that. 

13 years old

You find yourself staring at Sero the next day during class. And again the next day. And the next. Until suddenly week has gone by of you observing him and it's the last day of term. 

You’ve found out a lot about him during your starring. Not personal information. But the little things that all of a sudden you’ve started to notice. 

You’ve found that he never wears short sleeve shirts. And the the shirts he does where are always baggy and a little too big. You’ve found that he’s not always awkward and quiet; he’ll open up around some of his friends and you’ll hear him laughing across the classroom. But only some. You’ve found that he wears necklaces, but they’re always tucked away beneath the collars of his shirts. You’ve found that his ears are actually pierced but he doesn’t wear any earrings at school because it’s not part of the dress code. You’ve found that he actually puts a lot of effort into his studies, and he’s in the top five in the class. You’ve found that he goes to the gym to train every second afternoon. You’ve found that he doodles in his school books; usually, sketches of potential hero costumes. You’ve found that he genuinely cares about people, and he’ll always lend a hand, if quietly, when someone is in need of it. You’ve found that he loves manga, and will sometimes sit by himself at lunch, just reading. You’ve found that he has to tie his bangs up during tests, because they get in his face and distract him. You’ve found that he always has to be doing something with his hand to concentrate. 

And you’ve found that he actually also stares at you , a lot more than you’d previously realised.

Although, odd as is it, you don’t actually mind all that much. 

You don’t talk to him any more than you did before the whole incident in the nurse's office. But the atmosphere between you feels slightly warmer now. You smile when you meet his eyes, and most of the time, he smiles back.

(Or tries to at least, behind the bright red cheeks and wide eyes) 

For no reason at all, you feel closer to him. 

Unfortunately, it hasn’t gone unnoticed. 

They corner you when the bell of lunch goes on the last day of the spring term. You don’t think it’s what they’re doing at first; assuming with a bright-eyed innocence that they’d simple come to your table to chat a little before you all head to the cafeteria together. 

However when you look up and see the dark looks on all of your friend’s faces, something in your gut sinks a little. 

“We need to talk,” is what Shizuku says. And it's all you need to know something is wrong. 

It’s Suzuki who starts. She fiddles with her fingers, then the hem of her skirt, and then her fingers again. She seems awkward; they all do. Like she doesn’t quite know where to start. Immediately, an alarm bell goes off in your head. 

“Is something wrong?” you ask, just to break the silence. You don’t really need to ask - you’ve known all these girls for years. Shizuku and Suzuki have been with you since elementary school, and are probably the two closest people you have on the planet. You can read their faces right now. And you can tell that something is wrong. The real question is… what? 

“Well, yeah. Kinda. We, um, w-well,” Shizuku begins to stumble out. But she trips over the words, obviously knowing what she wants to say but not quite how to say it. 

Something deep within you goes cold. And you realise suddenly why they’re all here. And why they’re all looking at you . 

“Did… I do something?” you ask them, already knowing the answer. But also dreading it. 

The looks they give each other is all the answer you need. 

You zone out after that. Or not zone out - it’s more like you don’t process what’s happening. They - Shizuku and Suzuki - tell you a lot of things. Despite their awkwardness at the beginning, once they get going, they don’t ever seem to stop. They talk about how you’ve been distant, and how you haven’t paid attention to them. They talk about how they feel like you’re not putting effort into the friendship, at least not as much as they are. They talk about how you haven’t checked up on them recently. 

Shizuku says she “needs some space.”

And Suzuki says that “it would be better for both parties is we all just took a step back.”

You don’t really understand. You don’t even know where any of this is coming from. Your brain is struggling to process what’s happening because it’s all so sudden, and you don’t think you’ve been any different than normal - at least, not to them. 

You don’t get it. At all. But they don’t make any effort to explain things further. And then before you know it, you’re apologising. And thanking them for telling you, even though you’re not grateful for it at all. 

And then you’re making some shitty excuse about work you need to do, and you leave, taking all your things with you. 

You only really realise what’s actually just happened once you’re far away from the classroom, and standing sullenly in one of the empty outdoor courtyards. 

You think you cry then. You’re still not entirely sure as your brain spins and you replay your conversation over and over and over again in your mind. 

Then the sound of a stick cracking beneath someone’s foot breaks the still air and you whirl around to see none other than Sero, frozen in place a few metres behind you as he evidently tries to cross the courtyard in silence. 

For a moment, you stare at each other. 

Then Sero turn and takes a single step forward. He says you name, softly and worriedly, and you realise suddenly that he’s staring hard at your face. At your eyes. 

You put your hand up to touch the skin of your cheek, find it wet. Then hastily you scrub at it, rubbing away the tears that have fallen. 

“I’m fine,” you tell him shortly. Very shortly - in fact, your voice is clipped and harsh. Something flashes through his eyes at the sound of it, maybe hurt, maybe worry, and you almost expect him to turn away. It’s evident you don’t want him around right now, your tense shoulders and harsh eyes say that much. You’re caught off guard and you don’t want anyone to see you crying. For some reason, especially not him. 

But, much to your surprise, he doesn’t back down. Determination settles over his expression and he takes another step. 

And he says, “You’re not.” 

“I am.”

He shakes his head. “You’re crying.”

“I’m not.” 

“You are.”

You’re about to protest, because really he has no right to speak to you like that. He’s not being rude but he’s being firm and it has your gears grinding as you stand glaring at him. He doesn’t know me at all,  you think hotly, your hand curling into fists at your sides. He doesn’t know shit. Why is he…?  

But your thoughts trail off when he steps even closer and suddenly you’re close enough to see the real, genuine concern in his eyes. He cares, you realise with a violent start, your heart thudding so hard against your ribs it's almost painful. He actually cares. 

You're not entirely sure how to feel about that, and it makes even more tears well up in your eyes. You try to turn away, wanting to avoid his stare, but he catches you before you can, a gentle hand on your arm. His other hand goes to your shoulder as you're pulled in his direction and suddenly the pair of you are nose to nose. He's so close you can count his eyelashes. 

"Hey," he says as his eyes flicker back and forth between your own. His eyebrows scrunch up a little. "Hey, are you…okay?" 

And just like that you feel something crack deep inside you. The tears burn as they flood your eyes and your lip trembles. The ache in your chest is so intense it locks up your throat and it's all you can do to let out a single sob.

In hindsight, you're sure you'd really freaked Sero out. However he doesn't let you see any of it now, as he pulls you into a tight hug without a word. One of his hands slides around your waist while the other presses into the back of your head, keeping your nose buried in his shoulder. He shushes you softly, in a way that is so out of character for the awkward, stuttering boy you usually know that in any other situation you probably would've laughed. 

You don't now, obviously. Instead you hug him back, taking refuge in this new, unfamiliar comfort. You don't talk, don't try to explain what's going through your head; you just cry because it's really the only thing you can do right now. 

Neither of you are sure how long you end up standing there for. And you don't really care either way. Sero smells nice - very faintly like white rose and dark, rich chocolate- and already your heart rate is beginning to steady as you breathe him in. His arms around you are warm and you can feel his heartbeat in your own chest, steady and rhythmic. 

You only pull away when the school bell rings, loud and jarring across the courtyard. Your eyes widen a little and you all but stumble back as your cheeks burn with a bright flush. 

"U-um," you mumble out, avoiding Sero's eyes. "Sorry." 

He shakes his head, still watching you cautiously and you get the feeling he's worried that you're going to start crying again. 

"I'm fine," you reassure before he can ask, your hands dropping to smooth out the hem of your cardigan. "I just… yeah, um, sorry." 

"It's okay," he tells you genuinely, running a hand through his hair. "Just… are you sure you're good to go back to class?" 

You nod hastily. In truth you're not entirely sure - all your friends will be in that class and the idea of facing them all over again sends a special kind of pain through your chest. You don't have any other option though, and so you figure it's best to suck it up, just for the last few hours of the day. Then you can go on summer break and not have to be around them for a few weeks. 

You think you're hiding what's going through your mind pretty well, but when you look back up to meets Sero's eyes again, fully prepared to offer him a fake smile and an excuse, you see the knowing expression on his face. 

"Hey, if you want," he starts, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. "I could… walk with you back to class? " 

"I…" you stop, staring at him. It's not the most monumental of offers and yet… it means something to you, something that you can't quite explain. 

"I'd… actually really appreciate that," you mumble out, staring down at your toes. "If… If it's okay with you." 

"O-of course!" Sero tells you and you notice his blush and stutter is returning. It brings a small smile to your lips. "We are in the same class so it's not like I'm going anywhere else anyway!" 

"R-right," you agree and tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. "We should probably go…" 

"Yeah," he nods along. "Come on." 

The pair of you start walking and for a moment everything is silent. You can't help but sneak glances at him out of the corner of your eye and, you have a feeling that he's doing the same to you. It's awkward, really awkward, for a few seconds at least, until you reach the door back into the school. 

But then, when Sero holds it open for you and allows you to go through ahead of him, you grit your teeth and do something that, years later, you will credit as being the start if everything you ever had with Sero. 

You reach out and grab his hand. 

23 years old

Hanta gets home a lot later than he'd expected to. Usually these nights out with the boys wrap up after just a couple of hours, since there's almost always someone in the group drinking heavily enough to reach the point of incoherence less than forty minutes in. Tonight, however, despite the fact that Denki did eventually slump over the table and fall completely asleep, everyone had hung around a lot longer than normal.

Hanta doubts it has anything explicitly to do with him. The conversation he'd had with Bakugou wrapped up immediately after that last piece of advice and then Hanta himself had done everything to try and steer the topic if conversation to something different once again. He can't deny, however, that the energy around the table had changed a lot with Bakugou's words, growing lighter immediately and more cheerful. Hanta certainly felt it; that bubble had remained for the rest of the evening, even once it was over, sitting happily in his chest as he drove home and then when he unlocked the apartment door. 

He's not surprised to find everything in darkness once he steps inside. You don't usually wait up for him during events like these and he's glad you don't - you need every second of sleep you can get and he likes nothing better than to sneak in through the darkness and find you all curled up in the large king bed, more likely than not cuddling his pillow. 

This is why he doesn't bother turning any of the lights on as he sets his keys down, and why he bypasses everything else in the apartment to head right for the bedroom as soon as his shoes and coat are off. 

It's just a dark in there, he finds, as out in the rest of the house and for a moment he has to pause by the doorway and squint in an attempt to adjust his vision. It's a pretty dark night already, with no moon and cloud cover, and the blackout curtains completely mute any glow from the surrounding city that might try to find its way inside. He can still see you though, once his eyes adjust to the dark, and it's very hard for him to control his smile as for a moment he just stands still and stares. 

If he's honest with himself, this is more than he ever could have wanted. And it's moments like this that allow him to acknowledge that. You look so peaceful in your sleep, with your hair loose and one arm curled up against your shoulder. More than that, you look older. A lot of the time, Hanta genuinely thinks that his vision of you is often skewed by the image of his best friend from middle school, and as a result he sometimes fails to see the mature young woman you've grown into. The mature and very very beautiful young woman. 

You shift a little as if you feel his eyes on you, turning you face just slightly as your eyelashes flutter against the curve of your cheek. Hanta watches the movement as he slips his way deeper into the room, now heading to the en suite bathroom. He almost feels bad when he flicks the light switch on, sending a beam of gold across the room and right over your face for a brief moment before he steps inside and shuts the door as quickly as he can. 

His shower is lightening fast as his eyes droop at the corners. The fatigue of the day is hitting him, finally, and he does his best to be as quick as possible as he just rinses the dirt of the evening away and then climbs into the pair of sweatpants you must have put on the counter in anticipation of just this happening. 

Hanta smiles a little at the thought as he brushes his teeth. He's always picked up on the little details of his relationship with you, and yet they still never fail to fill him with a special kind of warmth. It has him even more eager to finish up his nightly routine and head off to bed, looking forward greatly to the moment he gets to haul you on top of his chest and snuggle the life out of you. 

He doesn't expect you to be awake when he finally exits the bathroom. He's preoccupied with pushing the damp strands of his dark hair out of his face, and so doesn't notice the glitter of your eyes as he flicks off the bathroom light and crosses the room to your shared bed. 

He feels it though, when you reach for him and grab his hand, tugging him down onto the bed with surprising strength. Hanta let's of a muffle oof! as he hits the mattress and then shifts, twisting his body so he can settle face to face with you as best as he can. 

"Well, hello," he says, just a little cheeky. You give him sleepy smile in response, one he's only just able to see through the darkness of the room, and tighten your grip on his fingers a little. 

"D'you just get home?" you ask, voice thick with sleep. Hanta makes an "uh huh" noise as he snuggles closer to you, wriggling his way under the covers as he sneaks an arm around your back. 

"How was it?" you mumble, pressing your nose into his collarbone. 

"The usual. Denki got hammered, Bakugou cussed out Mineta… nothing social," Hanta tells you, shrugging with one shoulder. You smile a little into his skin and nod once. 

"Sounds nice.:

"It was," Hanta agrees, smiling a little. "Oh, and Kiri sent more pictures of his baby so we went through those. I swear that kid looks just like him." 

"You'll have to show me in the morning," you tell him. "I always knew Kiri was gonna have a cute kid." 

"Oh, you did?" Hanta remarks, half teasing. You nod in response and adjust the angle of your head a little so you nose and mouth are pressed into the crook of his neck. 

"I did." 

"How so?" 

"Cuz Kirishima is adorable," you say, matter of factly. "So any kid of his is gonna be the sweetest thing to ever bless this earth." 

Hanta actually agrees with you. But he still pouts for a second and pulls you a little closer, his hand sliding from your middle to your lower back. 

"You think he's adorable?" 

"Who doesn't," you mumble back. And Hanta can't really find a counter argument to that. 

"Point taken. Our kid would be cuter though." 

"You think?" 

"Oh, absolutely," Hanta says, one hundred percent certain. "No offence to Kirishima's baby but if we had a kid, it would be the literal best thing to ever exist."

"I think you're biased," you tell him pointedly, but Hanta had heard the smile in your voice. "Parents always think that their own child is the best."

"No but think about it," Hanta says. He shuffles away a little to look properly at your face, a glint in his eyes. "Just imagine it. Not only would it be the best looking baby ever, but it would be so smart too! Provided it got your brains." 

You chuckle a little and Hanta feels his heart leap as he watches the corners of your eyes crinkle up a little. "It seems like you've given this a lot of though," you remark. "Does the topic of our hypothetical child grace your thoughts often, Hanta?"

Hanta blushes. He can't help it - you've caught him fair and square. He also can't help the smile that spreads over his face as he looks down at you, eyes roving over each contour of your features before locking with your own. 

"Maybe it does," he admits, shrugging one shoulder again. "I can't really help it." 

"That's cute." 

"What's cute?" 

"Your infatuation with our relationship," you tell him, your voice soft and sweet. Hanta makes a face. 

"I'm not infatuated with out relationship." 

"I think you are." 

"I'm infatuated with you," Hanta says. "Only you." 

You lean up your press a soft kiss to his jaw in response. Hanta's eyes flicker closed at the feeling and his grip on your waist tightens briefly. You react by shuffling yourself a little closer and suddenly you're practically on top of him, with your arms sliding up around his neck and your thighs rubbing up against his. 

It takes Hanta an eternity to register the fact that your legs are bare. And when he finally does it makes his cheeks colour a little pink. 

"You…" he begins as his hand sneaks downwards, from laying flay against your lower back to the curve of your hip and then up and over to the meat of your thigh. His eyes widen as he feels his way across your body and discovers you're wearing only panties on your bottom half. 

"Hanta…" you mumble in reply before leaning up to kiss his jaw again. And it's then, as your lips ghost across the edge of his jawline an he feels the soft drag of your fingertips sneaking up into his dark hair, that Hanta gets his first inkling of where tonight may be headed. 

Suddenly, he's no longer tired.

It starts out soft, as always. Soft touches, soft whispers. Hanta's hands brushing up against you, feeling your skin and the way your muscles move beneath it. It’s inquisitive, as if it’s happening for the first time all over again; an exploration , one might call it. Really, it’s Hanta refamiliarising himself with you, and reassuring you. Makings sure you understand. 

He doesn’t really need to; he knows you like the back of his hand after being with you for so long. He knows all your responses and all your reactions, and he knows how to communicate properly. But he likes to do it anyway, every time. It’s another way of showing his love for you, he supposes, something that he doesn’t ever think he does enough of. 

It’s also, he supposes, somewhat of a mental preparation for himself. Because he knows from experience that as soon as you get your hands on him, truly on him , his mind is going to go flying completely out the window. 

You’re the one to make the first move tonight, as you reach for the back of his head and pull him down to meet your lips in a soft kiss. It starts out slow, like you’re just tasting him, and as you lips caress his in a touch that feels feather-light, Hanta feels just a little bit like he’s drowning. In a good way. 

Your hand stays on the back of his head, your fingers sneaking their way into his thick, dark hair. He can feel the way you entwine your fingers in the strands, which presumably squeezes some moisture from it as a drop of water rolls done the back of his neck. He can ignore it easily though as he focusses on you and the way you’re kissing and touching him. Your body is moving now, shifting as you bring yourself closer and then you really are on top of him, thighs on either side of his hip bones as you push him gently down into the mattress. 

Hanta sighs softly when you pull away from the kiss. For a moment he stays as he is, head flopped back against the pillow with his eyes closed and his heart pounding away in his chest. But then he feels your hand shift, come up to his face. You fingers drift across his forehead, pushing away one long strand of black hair to tuck it back by his ear. That’s when he opens his eyes and meets your gaze in the darkened room. And what he sees only makes him grin. 

You’re gorgeous, so damn gorgeous. You have been since he’d first met you but now as he stares up at you, seeing the way your hair frames your face and your eyes are still half-lidded from sleep, it stokes the fire that’s always burning in his heart just for you. For a very brief moment, he’s taken back to the first time he’d ever kissed you, back in middle school when you’d both played truth or dare at a birthday party, and you’d both been unceremoniously shoved into a closet for a round of Seven Minutes In Heaven when it came time for his turn, and how he’d sat across from you in the dark, scared out of his mind, until you’d kissed him yourself. 

It’s totally different from the kisses you share now. That had been a simple peck between two friends, done to appease the masses of middle schoolers at a birthday party. What you have now is mature, it’s sensual, it’s heavy.  It makes his toes curl and his heart pound, and has the muscles in his lower abdomen fluttering. But it’s you still, always you. 

He finds that there’s something very beautiful about that. 

“Hanta,” you whisper down to him in a soft, sweet voice. “Hanta, touch me.” 

And he does, gladly. 

His hands go to your thighs, your soft, bare thighs which line his hips. He slips his fingers up them, feeling your skin, mapping out the shape of each one. He follows them upwards, reaches your hips. Then he grips you and pulls your body a little, shifting you on top of him so you’re lined up right where he needs you. 

You moan a little at the feeling and the sound almost makes Hanta’s eyes roll back. He forces himself to hold out though, determined to drag things out for your sake. It’s been a while since either of you did anything more than a five minute fuck in the shower and if Hanta is honest with himself, he’s desperate for the intimacy that you provide. He needs you, yes, but he also needs everything that you represent. And he’s determined to make this good. 

You lean down when he drags you over his crotch for a second time, your lips going back to his jaw. Hanta’s eyes slip closed as you kiss along his skin, sucking harder once you’ve made your way a little further down his neck. He lets go of your hips and allows his hands to continue on their journey up your body, going first to your waist then to your back and then to your shoulders. His thumbs rub up against where he can feel your collarbones beneath your skin, and then he kisses you again, on the mouth, slow and sensual in a way that all but screams “I'm going to make you feel good.”

You moan against his lips and then whimper when his tongue slips out. It meets yours and the kiss is deepened; enough so that Hanta can’t really help the way his hips roll upward to grind into you once again. You reciprocate immediately and then Hanta lets out a whine of his own as he feels one of your hands sliding from his shoulder to his chest and then further down his abdomen. 

“Fuck, baby-” he whispers out into a silence, only met with a soft hum of approval from you. “Baby, you’re so-!” 

“I'm here,” you breathe out to him, right against his lips. Your other hand goes to grab at his own, where it’s still settled on your shoulder. And then you move it yourself, pulling it away from your collarbone to press his palm up against the soft bulge of your breast. “Keep touching me while I touch you, my love.” 

The sound of your voice is all that's needed for Hanta to melt completely, and the actual words you're saying are just a bonus. He’s totally desperate by now, completely and totally lost in you, and so he does as you ask and massages slowly at the soft flesh of your breast. You hum in approval as your hand continues to slide down his body, and then a soft groan slips from between your lips as he pinches at your nipple through the t-shirt you’re wearing, rolling it slowly between his thumb and forefinger. 

“I love you,’ he whispers up to you and catches the smile you flash down to him in return. 

“I adore you,” you whisper down to him in reply and then lean forward to kiss his lips again. At the same time your hand, still sliding lower, finally finds what you're looking for. Hanta's body jolts a little as your fingers rub up and over the bulge in his sweats, and then he lets out an audible whimper. 

"Holy-" 

You smile against him and then pull away properly to sit back a little further so you all but tower over him. Hanta feels his heart rate begin to speed up as he gazes up at you with adoring eyes. His hand is still on your beast, and he makes a special effort to pinch at your nipper again to get your attention. You respond by increasing the pressure on his dick by just a little before backing off again, and smirking like a fucking deviant when Hanta huffs out a complaint. 

"We're equal," you whisper softly to him, rolling your hips forward a little as you do so. "Tease m and I'll tease you back." 

Despite his desperation, Hanta manages to find it in himself to quirk his eyebrow at you. "Tease you?" he says, a smirk of his own tugging at his mouth. "Baby, you haven't seen shit yet." 

You tilt your head a little to the side, your eyes sparkling, and Hanta suddenly gets the feeling this is exactly exactly you want from him. Not that he minds; he's very very happy to give whatever you desire. 

"Oh?" You ask him, blinking in the most innocent way you can. Hanta feels something crack within him. 

"What if…" he asks you slowly, as his hand leaves your chest and beginning to trail down your body. "What if… I do this ?" 

It's easy to get to that spot between your legs with how you're straddling him. And Hanta can't deny how the widening of your eyes in soft surprise when he trails his fingers over your clothed core sends a spark of dark, hot want right through his gut. 

You're only wearing panties. Very thin ones that do absolutely nothing to conceal how hot you are between your legs. Or how wet . 

Hanta feels himself suck in a shaky breath when he first feels it, how there's actually a damp spot darkening the fabric of your underwear. The tip of his finger brushes over it once in his initial exploration, and then returns almost immediately, and he presses against you with a little more pressure. It has you jumping a little at the touch, and your eyes roll back briefly as a shock of pleasure rushing through you. Hanta can't help but smile. 

"See," he tells you as he continues to stroke through your panties. "This is teasing, sweet girl." 

You hum a little in response, your face flushing slightly. But when you force your eyes open and look down at him once again, you gaze is only slightly clouded. 

"I suppose I've gotta return the favour, huh?" 

You grip on his crotch tightens just a bit once again and Hanta just about chokes. "Yeah, that'd be nice," he manages to hiss through his teeth, his breath jumping in his chest as pleasure spikes through his abdomen briefly. 

You let out a soft snort and adjust the shoulder of your t-shirt a little before you settle into a rhythm. Your hand is so warm against him, heat that seeps through his thick material of his sweatpants and right down to his cock. He was already achingly hard before this, and you're only making everything so much more intense . So much so that he almost forgets that he's supposed to be touching you. 

Almost.

His fingers press up against you when his mind returns to the task at hand, enough to get you to falter in your own movements. And then he takes complete advantage of your limp form and flips you right over, so your back is pressed to the mattress and he's now supporting himself on his forearms above you. 

You don't seem surprised by the switch. If anything it's like you were expecting it when you reach for him, hand curling around the back of his head so you can pull him down to kiss him again. At the same time you grab at his wrist and all but shove his hand between your legs. 

Hanta takes that as his cue and slips his hand into the confines of your panties. His fingertips trail over the familiar feeling of your body until they find what he's looking for. And he moans into your mouth when they do, his brain buffering for a good feel seconds at the feeling of how fucking wet you are. 

You whine under him as his fingertips tease along your entrance, gathering up your slick and massaging it into the soft skin of your labia. Your hips jump a little and you inhale sharply. And then you moan properly when he bypasses everything else to dip one long finger right inside your core. 

"H-Hanta, ah fuck!" 

Hanta finds himself smiling at the breathiness of your voice, almost a little giddy. More blood rushes to his cock as he stares down at you, watching the way your face twists up and your mouth forms the shape of an 'o' as he curls his finger just a little inside you. Getting you off has always gotten him off, right from the start of your sexual relationship, and even now he can just about feel the nerves in his crotch working overtime, as his aching dick is straining at the material of his sweats. 

You let out a choked noise when he slides his finger up to rub tight circles over your clit. Your slick has his fingers slipping against you, absolutely soaked, and the feeling spurs him on. He needs you, he fucking needs you . But first, he needs you to come. 

“I’m here, gorgeous,” he whispers down to you as he leans forward to put his mouth by your ear. He feels you shiver under him as his breath ghosts across the skin of your neck, and then a ripple passes up your body as his pace on your clit quickens. Your thighs threaten to clamp together but Hanta sets his hips between them, preventing them from closing. And then he leans down to mouth at your neck and shoulder, all but smothering you in his love. 

You whine and whimper, your voice growing higher, and Hanta recognises the way the muscles in your abdomen clamp up. Your hand comes up, freeing itself to slide up into his hair, and Hanta can’t help but let out a moan of his own when you wind your fingers into it and tug . 

“Oh god ,” you choke out. Your thighs start to shake, and your hips buck up as your other hand scratches along the muscles of his back. 

Hanta makes sure to kiss you as you come, sealing his lips to yours and invading your mouth with his tongue. You moan into him, your entire body rippling with pleasure as he feels your pussy pulse against his hand. And when he pulls back, once you’ve rolled off your high, he grins. 

“Good?” 

“Good,” you mumbled back. Your hand stays where it is in his hair. “More.” 

Hanta doesn’t even need to ask. He can see the desire in your eyes and after years of getting to know you and your body, he understands what you need and when. And so he wastes not a single second in ripping his sweatpants and boxers down, kicking them away as gracefully as possible so he can settle himself back between your thighs. 

You raise one leg immediately, and hook it up over his shoulder. And then Hanta feels it properly; the sticky glide of your soaking cunt across his cock. He chokes and then moans, his head dropping into the crook of your head as he balances himself on his forearms. You tilt your head back in response and let him kiss your skin as he gives a few experimental rocks forward, grinding himself up against you. You’re so wet, the skin of his cock is soaked already. And he can hear it in the way you’re whimpering with each grind; you need him just as much as he needs you. 

He doesn’t wait much longer; he can't . He just reaches down to take himself in his hand, situating himself. And then, with a single, practiced thrust of his hips, he slips into you. 

Your back arches upwards at the feeling, and the moan you let out is so fucking sweet it almost makes Hanta. You’re so familiar around him, your pussy warm and welcoming, and still so fucking tight. Hanta shudders at the feeling, his breaths becoming uneven as he struggles to ground himself for a moment. 

But then he feels the tug of your fingers in his hair. And he feels the way you’re shaking under him, your breaths coming out as shaky little whimpers as you pull his head even further against your neck. 

He kisses your skin. Once, twice, three times; as a reminder, and a comforter. To tell you he loves you. And then he rolls his hips. 

Neither of you last much longer after that. And neither of you mind. The exhaustion is catching up and Hanta’s thrusts are sloppy right from the start. Your moans are lazy in his ear, as you let the pleasure take hold of you completely, and when Hanta raises his head briefly to kiss you on the lips, it’s messy and uncoordinated. Hanta doesn’t even care though, as with each roll of his hips, more and more pleasures spikes up his spine. You’re pulsing around him, sucking him in over and over, and he can feel his high building already. In anticipation, he reaches down to sloppy rub his thumb over your clit. You clamp down on him immediately, your walls tightening around his cock to the point that he’s almost choking. And then, only a few strokes later, you come undone. 

The moans you let out, right in his ear, coupled with the pulsing of your cunt around his cock is all Hanta needs to come himself. And so he lets go with a groan, collapsing forward on top of you as he does so. 

The pair of you lay there for a long while after, basking in the feeling of each other. Hanta’s breathing slows after a while, and he finds himself nuzzling into your neck. Your one hand is still in his hair, with you leg having slipped down to rest over his hips, and he can feel the other tracing up and down his sweaty back as you too come down from your orgasm. Your fingernails scratch lightly against his skin, mapping out the contours of his muscles. And then up, into his hair, where you play idly with a few of the longer strands that curl around the base of his neck. 

For a while, there’s silence, broken only by the sound of both of your soft breathing. Then you turn your head a little, your lips ghosting over his temple, and mumble, “I love you,” into his hair. 

Warmth blossoms deep in Hanta’s chest. He raises his head, balances himself on one forearm so he can look down at you properly. For a moment he studies your face, your features, tracing each one with his eyes. Then he leans down to leave a long, gentle kiss on your still slightly sweaty forehead. 

“I love you too.”

#sero hanta x reader #hanta sero x reader #sero x reader #hanta sero #sero hanta #sero fanfic #boku no hero academia x reader #bnha fanfic #mha fanfic #my hero academia #sunshine #💙 blue's fics

[masschase]

Here's my OTP playlist again with full explanations of each song.

Bitch with a Keyboard, Asshole With a Gun: Matt and Casey's Journey

There is mention of nsfw stuff but I've kept it pretty vague tbh.

Wicked Game (Chris Isaak): I used the original of this because I already have a HIM song on this playlist. Still considering switching to the Stone Sour version. I know it's probably a cliché choice. But I felt like I needed a starter if this was going to be a cohesive journey. From Matt's side this reflects the fact Casey both spared his life and saved him from the simulation first. For Casey it represents that moment a couple of weeks into being on the ship when they've just had sex and they're just joking around together. She looks into his eyes and as I've said before, she sees a dangerous potential there and realises they just can't do this again. She has important world-saving shit to do and she can't just go falling in love with anyone. So she rambles out the rule about not sleeping with anyone on the ship more than once, and she sticks to it when more of her friends come aboard. Thing is, once those months have passed, everyone's like oh yeah, we all had that one time with the Boss, and doesn't think much of it. Matt is probably the only one who still thinks about that rule a lot, for obvious reasons. He has no idea he's the reason it exists.

Secretly (Skunk Anansie): This is really representative of the kind of mid-portion of their friendship before romantic feelings develop. When Matt in particular is trying his best *not* to be attracted to her (by the way the scene with him and Johnny regarding this is one of my favourite things ever ever ever I love their bond) but Casey keeps absent-mindedly telling him shit about how much she'd like to be pinned to the bed by a dirty talking Austen hero type and that sort of thing. 😅 Also kind of works from the opposite perspective. Matt wants to be with Asha so really he should be steering clear of Casey but he just... doesn't manage to. Honestly when I said a while ago I worry I portray Matt as a bit of a dick, it's this sort of thing I mean 😅

Dreaming Of You (The Coral): This could be an innocent enough song but thanks to Scrubs I associate it heavily with sex, plus with the kind of tempo it has... I tie it together with the feverish results of the interactions I mentioned in connection with the previous song. I don't know what the correct term is for "a captain and lieutenant listening to each other erm.... enjoying themselves through a wall and getting encouraged by each others noises" other than "inappropriate".

Right Here In My Arms (HIM): I really associate HIM with Matt; I feel like he has a bigass heartagram belt buckle hidden somewhere in his old flat, haha. Anyway, this is their friendship a little later on. "So hard she's trying, But her heart won't turn to stone" is very very Casey and this whole song is representative of the way she keeps returning to him despite the fact it's inadvertently leading to her falling for him.

Surrender (Billy Talent): I've said before how much the second verse reminds me of them "Even though I know what I'm looking for, She's got a brick wall behind her door, I'd travel time and confess to her, But I'm afraid she'd shoot the messenger.". It's very representative of both when Matt gets to the pining, unrequited (ok not really) love stage with Casey as well as the whole time travel plot and how that plays out. Also I just want to talk about the line "She wonders why I'm always in a good mood" because like... I constantly think about Casey thinking "Matt's secretly such a sweet funny guy, I wonder why not everyone sees it?" and it's like... he's comfortable around you my dude. He's happy and can be himself. His socially awkward has stopped socially awkwarding and that's why he doesn't need that egotistical facade.

Gunslinger (Avenged Sevenfold): for that period of time they are really missing each other during my fic. It was playing when they were bonding in Camden a year previously and Pierce complains that Casey starts listening to it over and over when Matt is gone. The bit that captures her is "I won't question why so many have died, My prayers have made it through yeah, 'Cause with all these things we do, It don't matter when I'm coming home to you."

Demolition Lovers (My Chemical Romance): This could really be placed higher or lower but it mostly makes me think of if Matt and the younger Casey really did go and do some "Bonnie and Clyde sorta shit" or really did run away together after the party. But it also makes me think of any situation of them running off and dying together. Which happens more often than you'd think.

Gone Too Soon (Simple Plan): Pretty much this whole album (Get Your Heart On) reminds me of the thing between 2022 Matt and 2016 Casey, and the band has links to both of their teen years in my hc. But this is the song they dance to and it has heavy foreshadowing for the next couple of chapters.

Last Dance (The Cure): It plays right after the previous song but they don't get to dance to it in 2016. That's really supposed to symbolise that this is not the end for them. But it sums up so much of the way I see Casey waiting nervously the night they finally get together, and they dance to it that night too. I've said this before but a lot of The Cure songs remind me of them.

Undisclosed Desires (Muse): This to me is very representative of their sexual relationship but also of the fact that even before they are together Matt begins to see more to Casey than the typical perception of her.

Running (No Doubt): This song is so them to me. The fact it's No Doubt makes me think of Casey, the fact it sounds like chiptune makes me think of Matt. The fact they do make this agreement that for the sake of their survival they will run instead of fighting when needed. Matt's surprise that she chose him of all people. Casey's fear that she'll fuck this up somehow. But the fact that they have each other through it all. I'd say it's between this and Last Dance for 'their' song, but I feel like this is the one that they'd think of as their song.

Deathbeds (Bring Me The Horizon): OK, admittedly, I have a load of songs on the longer playlist that could go here (I Will Follow You Into The Dark, There Is A Light That Never Goes Out etc.). But I feel like this one is a really good representative of that feeling of "I strongly believe we might end up dying together but I'm still never going to leave you.".

House on the Hill (The Pretty Reckless): It's a little more sombre than it should be for how I picture their future/endgame but nonetheless a lot of it relates. The way it starts with "Somewhere in the end of all this hate" relating to how they first crossed paths. The fact that what Matt manages to pull off more or less allows them to settle down by hiding/fading away, at least for a while. I'll eventually do a long post on what that entails for those who haven't read my fic but suffice to say it links back to themes from the first game of Aisha's name persisting through her music but her fake death protecting her. Nonetheless, the Saints are going to be forever and the next generation will inevitably get dragged in which is where "Until they drink the wine and they will, they will" comes into it.

Always (Killswitch Engage): I just wanted to end on a more optimistic note and sum up that although they are never going to *quite* have a traditional happily ever after, they will always have each other. Their love is eternal.

❤💜💙

#i never expected to post this and i feel so lame but fuck that feeling i'm not letting it stop me :) #playlist #sr boss: casey clark #matt miller #matty x cass #saints row #saints row boss #otp #spotify