#I wanted to do something funny but these two turn my brain into sap | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

clout-babe · 3 years

Text

Head High [nsfw]

cc!sapnap x fem!reader

nsfw - minors dni

warnings: smoking (weed), oral sex, praise kink, thigh riding, a lil bit of hair pullling, mention of spitting, degrading if you squint

prompt/summary: reader gets high and finds their way into sapnaps bedroom

smoking + nsfw under the cut

"How on earth would I choose between the two of you?" I hazily looked back and forth between two of my friends with half-lidded eyes.

The boy with dirty blonde stray hairs decorating his forehead looked up from his hands, "I don't know. Come on, you gotta like one of us better?" While it seemed to be a statement, his tone suggested he was unsure.

I blinked twice, my eyelids felt like they could stick together and stay shut forever.

"Aw don't make her choose, they look confused enough as it is. As is? As it is." In a hushed voice, the girl across from me spoke. I tried to examine her face, but the lighting made it difficult. The room seemed to shine a vibrant baby blue, reflecting on every surface possible. My eyes bounced around the room, moving at what felt like light-speed.

I didn't stop glancing around until I felt a pressure on the surface in front of me. The boy sat right next to the girl. Names are helpful though. What's his name? What's her name?

"What's your name?" At this point I couldn't stop my thoughts from barreling off my tongue. I love this. Or do I hate it? Oooh guilt. Nevermind, it's gone!

"What?" The girl cracked a smile, still speaking barely above a whisper.

"Your name," I felt a giggle in my throat. "I forgot it." The laughter that followed from all three of us was choked and silenced. It wasn't funny. That made me laugh harder.

Between the girl and I rested a grey, worn pillow. I curled forward with my legs crossed, pushing my head into it. Tears pricked at the corner of my eyes, silenced laughs still flowing from my stomach. I felt a tap at the back of my head and reached my hand up, which felt like liquid almost. Not really though.

The tips of my fingers were met with a warm metal, and I was finally able to settle myself a bit. I picked my head back up, grasping the now known item.

My fingers were delicately wrapped around the cart. I spun it around, looking for the button on the pen. I brought it up to my lips as if it were nothing new, which it wasn’t really. Pressing down on the button, I began to suck against the cartridge portion, watching a ring of blue glow around my fingers. My head felt empty and heavy at the same time. The dry smoke hit the back of my throat, causing me to squint my eyes as a natural reaction. I continued to inhale until I no longer felt it necessary. Hold for three seconds.

Exhale.

The air blowing out of me sounded loud compared to everything else. In the background I could distinctly hear some cartoon character rambling on, bringing me a sense of faltered nostalgia. Now focusing on the cartoon, I turned my head, looking to where I believed the sound was coming from.

This attention not lasting long, I turned back around to see the girl looking at me with raised eyebrows. “Are you good, bro?”

A loopy grin spread across my face and I felt every muscle tense in my cheeks. My eyes almost suddenly widened more, no longer feeling sleepy. “I think I’m good.” That’s what I tried to say at least, not so sure it came out 100% clear. “What did I just hit?”

“You hit the hybrid. My pen.” The boy murmured. Clay! That’s his name.

My brain felt like it was buzzing. Such a quick change. “Which one is that?”

“That’s the wakey wakey one,” Alyssa whispered with wide eyes. Alyssa!

I hummed in response. I sat there, staring forward, looking around desperately trying to find something to focus on. My head bobbed up and down as my arms started to slightly tingle.

I’m not high, I’m not high. Yes I am. No. Yes. Only a high person has these back and forths while barely remembering their previous thoughts dumbass.

I smiled at my head voice.

“If I had to choose one of you, in the s-scenario that you weren’t-t friends anymore or… like… someth- something.” My brain was fried. I had enough trouble gathering words while sober, being intoxicated didn’t exactly help. “I wouldn’t choose. I’d hate both of you li- like eternally or something. Eternally? Is that the right word?”

Alyssa seemed to be in a similar state to me now, hitting Clay’s pen. “Sound’s right.” Her voice sounded rough with an exhale. I watched the scattered clouds escape her lips.

I watched her lips. She had pretty pink lips. Soft and plush. Reminded me of Nick’s.

Nick.

“When’s Nick gonna be home?” He was the only thing on my mind now. My mind was in a state that made it easy for it to wander. I didn’t hate it though.

Clay shook his head from side to side. “Should be any moment now.”

As if on cue, I heard the automated alarm voice, stating the front door had open. A goofy smile took over, and I practically rolled off the bed. Using the common sense I had, I made my way out the room. Shuffling through the hallway and into the kitchen where I saw brunette tufts of hair sticking out from under a black hat.

“Hi handsome,” I cooed, walking up behind him. He turned around, obviously not expecting to be met face to face with me.

It was pretty clear I was into Sapnap. It was pretty clear he was into me. We had this sort of thing going for a couple months now, but neither of us really spoke on it. We had made it apparent that we wanted each other, but both of us remained in the comfort of not trying to ruin the friendship.

“Hi?” he smiled. After examining my stance and face a bit, he nodded. Realization set in after seeing the dilation in my pupils. “You guys started smoking? Without me?” he brought his palm to his chest, acting fake offended.

“Oh totally. Clay’s blazed and Alyssa isn’t much better.” I smiled. I felt hazy and I swear I had heart eyes just looking up at the man in front of me.

He tsked as he shook his head. “I’m gonna go in there for a bit. You comin’ with?” He didn’t move from where he stood, didn’t break eye contact. I shook my head.

“I’ll lay on the couch for now. Jus’ wanted to see my favorite boy.” I offered up a sweet smile. I swear his face turned slightly pink. Something about being high made me so much more… affectionate. While all I wanted to do was hug him, kiss him, and just be around him, I didn’t wanna annoy him. Though my high was getting stronger by the minute.

He nodded in acceptance, letting me walk to the couch before going to Clay’s room.

Laying on the sofa, I felt like I was sinking. my body felt heavy and all I could think about was Nick. And the more I thought about him, the more I wanted him, in more ways than one.

After what felt like forever, but seconds at the same time, Sapnap appeared in front of me on the edge of the couch.

I looked at him without moving my head. The high was super strong there and I felt almost paralyzed, body continuing to ‘sink’ into the couch.

“Wanna go hangout? Just me n’ you? Maybe listen to some music or something..” Sapnap offered up, and I happily agreed.

Music was long forgotten. A lot of things were long forgotten. I pressed my lips against Nick’s with what will I had. The way our lips moved together was sloppy. It was desperate, yet calm. My head buzzed and I felt my body jitter with excitement. I felt so…gone.

I swung my leg lazily around Nick’s lower half, positioning myself on one of his thighs. His tongue slid into my mouth, and with inhibitions lowered I let out a slight whine. I felt him smile against my mouth. Cocky motherfucker.

I began to roll my hips against his leg, now feeling more needy than ever. I wanted to be impossibly close to him. I needed to be impossibly close to him.

He separated our lips, taking a breath and looking down to where I was grinding against him. His hands slid down to my waist and began to guide me against him. I tucked my face into the crook of his neck, quietly panting between planting small kisses there.

“Feel good, baby?” He muttered out, voice rough.

I nodded against him as he pushed his leg up against my crotch, earning a moan as a proper response. Everything felt so much better, and I couldn’t tell if it was because of the drugs, or because it was him. Maybe it was both.

I began to try and move faster against him, chasing my orgasm. He moved his leg up and down against me, making it feel so much more intense.

The room was filled with heavy breaths and the little noises pulled from my throat. He hummed, obviously pleased by the effect he was having on me.

It only took a little more before I started to feel close. “Oh fuck sap, please-“

“Please what baby? Use your words,” He sounded so smug.

“Please, I-I need to cum,” my words stumbled out my mouth. He tightened his grip on my waist.

“Good girl.”

I rocked against him quicker, reaching my climax.

Moans spilled from me, causing him to grin. I rode out my high, locking my hands onto his shoulders as I slowed my hips, catching my breath. My whole body tingled.

“So good.” I finally managed to mumble out. The multiple hits I’d taken managed to finally begin to take effect. I was slightly more aware only due to my contact with another person.

“Yeah?” he quipped. I looked at his eyes before dropping my head to his shoulder. I hummed back. I felt his chest rumble as he laughed.

I finally pulled back, moving way too fast. Nick’s eyebrows raised in amusement, watching me attempt to move.

Succeeding, I had pushed myself off the bed, standing on the side of it. Nick’s face morphed from amused to curious, watching as I motioned him to come closer. He obeyed, slowly shifting himself to the edge of the bed.

“What are you doing?” He chuckled, obviously in a playful mood.

“Do you want me to return the favor?” I said as clearly as I thought I could. Though it was a little rushed, he obviously heard me.

His lips slightly parted. I slowly sunk to the ground, using his knees to guide myself. Face to face with his bulge.

Chef’s kiss.

His eyes tracked me. “I-“ he was clearly caught off guard. It took a moment and I watched his face twist as his brain caught up. “Hell yeah,” he whispered.

I moved my hair, tucking it behind my ears. I brought my hand up to his lap. “You sure you’re okay with this?” I knew we were both so far gone, and I just wanted to double check on his clarification.

“Right now,” his eyes were wide and he let out a breath, “I give you permission to do whatever you want.” His voice was low. He even sounded sober for a moment.

But the gaze in his eyes as he watched me begin to palm over his shorts gave him away. A shaky exhale escaped his throat.

“Nervous?” A smirk followed my remark. The intoxication made me feel more playful.

“Aw shut up,” he bit back.

“Yes sir.” I mumbled. After a couple seconds, I decided I was down beating around the bush. I glided my hands up, sinking my fingers into his waistband. He leaned back into his arms , lifting his hips to assist me.

Once his shorts were out the way, his cock sprung up. Even in the darkened room, I could still see the details clearly. It was flushed red at the tip from the lack of attention, and he was thick. My mouth would have been watering if I wasn’t experiencing cottonmouth.

Not letting myself stare too long, I looked up at him first. His cheeks were slightly pink. How cute.

“Is your mouth dry?” I mumbled.

He shook his head and I put my palm up near his face. Trying to keep my hand steady was a chore.

“Spit.”

He hesitated a bit before gathering some saliva in his mouth and pushing it out with his tongue onto my hand.

I hummed in satisfaction, not giving him a warning before attaching my hand to his cock. He sucked in a sharp breath as I ran my thumb over the slit.

I grinned, proud that I was already having this effect on him. I glanced up at his face as I began to jerk him off. His eyes slightly squinted, watching me move my hand around him. His lips stayed parted, taking little breaths with each movement I made. I squeezed my hand slightly applying light pressure.

“God, you’re really fucking good at that.” he nearly gasped. His eyes flitted over to my face, and I swear he melted at the sight of me on my knees looking up at him. He pulled one hand from behind him and brought it up to my chin.

“So pretty like this.” It was barely audible, but it literally was so fucking heart melting.

And though my brain was practically empty, I knew I wanted his dick in my mouth.

Without breaking eye contact, I leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to the head of his cock. I slowed down my hand movements, just so that I could create a new pace. His hand slipped back to my hair.

Slowly, I wrapped my lips around him, sinking down onto his dick. A long groan could be heard above me. I went forward until I couldn’t anymore, then put my hand where I couldn’t reach.

I began to move my head, bobbing it around him. “holy shit, baby-“ it was practically a whine. i hummed, causing him to groan due to the stimulation. His hand flexed, pulling at my hair.

Desperate noises came from him. Nick got louder and louder until he got close.

“g’unna cum soon-“ he managed to get out. I didn’t stop. I buried his cock down my throat until my nose was hitting the skin on his pelvis. He grunted as I felt his cum literally hit the back of my throat. I continued to move my head, sucking him off until his noises of pleasure ceased.

I pulled off, coughing. He ran his hand over my head, mumbling praises to me.

“was s’ good”

“great job baby”

“fucking hell, princess”

Those were the only phrases I could make out. I couldn’t tell if it was the drugs or the massive crush I had on him, but my chest bloomed out of affection.

He stood up, fixing his shorts, “could we do this sober?”

I smiled at him, moving forward so I could straddle his legs. His hands moved up to my waist. “We could do a lot more sober”

#sapnap smut #mcyt x y/n #mcyt fanfic #dream smp x you #dsmp x you #dsmp x reader #sapnap x reader #sapnap

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bubblyhoney · 3 years

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sarah i have thought of another fic request or like a cute idea i guess! i didn’t have anyone in mind when i thought of it so you can write it for whoever you want honestly :)

okay so the reader is a streamer but streams games like animal crossing, standew valley, etc. then (insert who you’re writing for) says they don’t like that game, but later ends up buying it and the reader is like “i thought you said you didn’t like this game” and they’re like “well i like you” and they confuses their feelings and they end up playing the game together and reader gives them a tour of their island or farm

i feel like this request isn’t good, but the scenario seemed cute and i wanted to share it. sorry if this is confusing or just too specific cuz i know it can be hard to write requests like that! but yeah i hope it gives you inspiration and you like the request <3

new horizons

warnings: language, a Marvel reference (hint: natasha said it about tony), stupid idiots who don’t realize they like each other, use of pet names, Uno rage, Hasan Piker's presence

words: 1473

tags: sapnap x gn!reader

A/N: i’ve been trying to catch up a little on my requests (i’ve only got a couple so i’m not super overwhelmed) but school and outside life has been taking up most of my time so this one took me a while to make! tbh— ive never played animal crossing so i did google some of the game mechanics and i apologize if anything is inaccurate about the game…. but i liked relaxing and writing this cute one so thank you for requesting hails :3

requests/inbox status: open

“This game is trash.”

Your head quirks, fingers stopped on the screen. You’re in the process of giving your character a cute new nickname; it’s kind of hard to decide between “awkward dude” and “elderly skater”.

“Excuse me?” Your chat comes alive with emotes and ‘KEKW’s, obviously entertained by you and your almost-more-than-friends-friend.

There’s a story for that later.

Sapnap’s rough laugh comes through your headset and he audibly swallows, the sound of a water bottle dropping onto his desk echoing.

“I’m just saying—it’s boring. It’s like Minecraft but you don’t like… do anything.” The grainy image of his bearded face shifts and you see him pull out his phone.

“It’s— you can’t even compare it to Minecraft! It’s a completely different game system—you actually interact with other people live in the game.” You huff out a dramatic sigh, slumping in your chair with a pout. “Just because you go into this lucid state where all you know is ‘touch block, hit George’ doesn’t mean this game isn’t fun.” (He scoffs at your awful impression of his voice. Your viewers love it.)

“Jeez,” he mumbles, fumbling with the cap of his water bottle. “Touched a nerve there, bud.”

You roll your eyes, getting back to the village in the game.

“Don't ‘bud’ me.”

The call falls comfortably quiet, the sounds of him tapping obsessively on his phone and you clicking away filling the silence. A gentle bedroom-pop YouTube playlist remains in the background, prompting you to hum along and glance at the chat to see a flood of “check twitter” and “Y/N TWITTER!!”.

“What happened on Twitter?” You mumble, confused, and pull the website up on another monitor. Sapnap just makes a curious noise, swinging back and forth in a circle. “Oh my God,” you say to yourself, fingertips brushing your parted lips.

“What?”

“Hasan Piker just followed me and retweeted one of my not even remotely political old tweets. Like from a year ago.”

“That’s— wow. Congrats?” Sapnap’s voice cracks, and his ears flush pink the tiniest bit when you glance at his face on Discord.

“I’m gonna go on record and say that he could get it.” You shake your head in disbelief.

Sapnap falls uncharacteristically non-hyper-verbal, so you look past the frenzied chat and to his screen— wait. He muted and turned his camera off.

“Um,” you start, furiously typing question marks in your private chat. “Where’d you go?” You mute and turn screen share off for your stream, concerned that he might’ve fallen off his chair and broken his neck and needs you to call the ambulance.

The characteristic ding of a twitter notification sounds through your bedroom, and you look at your phone quickly.

“That’s where I went.”

Sapnap Tweeted: “all Y/U stans can choke on my dick”.

“Jesus, Sapnap,” you say, and rapidly refresh to read the replies. This tweet was deleted. “That’s so— that barely makes sense, bro. Why— literally what?”

His snicker floods your ears and you relax in your chair. Crisis: averted. “Don’t fucking— what’s wrong with you?”

“I thought it would be funny,” he offers, shrugging, and fiddles with the straw in his water bottle, smile fading. “And also Hasan pisses me off.”

“Why, ‘cause he wants a piece of this? Jealous?” You think back to your viewers, knowing they’re probably spamming question marks and coming to ludacris conclusions about both of your absences. No offense to them. You remember your stan days very vividly.

“I mean, kinda.” He rubs once at his nose, glancing at the camera (and what feels like you) before taking a sip from his water bottle.

“Wow.” You watch one strand of his hair fall from beneath his hat and brush against his full eyebrows. “I’m uh—I’ll get back to my stream. You coming? Or is it time for a Sapnap-snack?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He snorts and leans his chin onto the balance of his arm.

“That means you like to take a little snack break mid-stream and come back approximately nine hours later and you didn’t even eat.”

“You know what— fuck you.” He flicks the camera as you laugh at the look on his face.

The teasing mood is easily kept as you switch games from Animal Crossing to Uno, all the while slamming Sapnap with +4’s and skipping the newly-arrived BadBoyHalo at any chance you can get. It unironically pisses him off and he has to take a Sapnap-snack break midway through (only a fifteen minute break this time, during which you and Bad take a “What Kind of Bread Are You?” quiz). The rest of the night is filled with devious cackles (you), loud and sudden bangs that sound suspiciously like someone hitting their desk in anger (Sap) and the stupid barking of Rat, AKA Lucy (Bad). She’s cute but a menace to the sound quality of Bad’s microphone. You sign off stream around 2 a.m. with various forms of thanks and kisses blown to the camera. It’s been a refreshing night, actually; you’ve been busy organizing a partnership stream all week and all your friends have been busy filming or editing or what-not. Quackity had time for a little Roblox every couple of days, though. He’s got your back.

The next time you see Sapnap is after a two hour stream of him try-harding in Valorant and you finishing responding to an email from your partnership in the VC.

“Okay, I’m back.” You hear him shift in his chair and click a couple more times on his keyboard. You perk up in your chair, closing the email browser you’d been looking at.

“Do you want to play anything else? I’m down for anything.”

“Absolutely not Uno. You can go to hell for giving me 6 cards that one time,” he jabs. You scoff, crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair.

“Okay, the +4 was on me but it’s Bad who gave you the last two. That’s not my fault, sweetie.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles, trailing off as the clicking of his keyboard stops. “Hey, um—Guess what?”

Your heart beats loud in your ears at the tone of his voice. He sounds nervous; that’s never good.

“I’m scared to guess,” you try, playing with a little Minecraft dog figurine you have on your desk with fidgety fingers. “What?”

“I bought Animal Crossing.”

Silence. You stare at his discord icon blankly, trying to reroute the wires of your brain.

“Tell me you love it.”

“Well… I haven’t actually played it— but you said you liked it, so.”

“So,” you repeat him, ears warming but continuing on. “Is that what you tell all your friends when you buy something they like? That it's because of them?”

He seems to choose his next words carefully, pausing a beat to consider your questions.

“Well, I don’t have a crush on all of my friends.”

“You—what?” You stutter, caught off guard and stumbling. What did he just say? “Don’t tell me you mean you have a crush on me.”

“I’m almost positive I just did.” His discord icon stares right back at you, taunting.

“You know, you’re very casual for someone who just admitted they like-like me.” Your cheeks flush pink and you have to press a hand to your chest to keep your breathing sounding stable.

“Yeah, I’m kind of cool like that,” he offers, a huff of a laugh punctuating his statement. The conversation moves into a lull that you can’t help but know is because of you. He must expect you to say something about it, right?

“You are very cool, Sapnap.” You tilt back in your chair, sucking in a breath to prepare yourself for your next words. “And—Isortakindofhaveacrushonyoutoo.”

He must understand you, for you can hear the grin in his voice when he asks “Really?”

“Y-yeah.” You feel like a preteen again, all shaky and giddy in front of the boy you just asked to a middle school dance.

“Um, alright. What do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” you answer genuinely and swing in a happy little circle in your chair. “We could play Animal Crossing.”

“I’m down.”

You swear you’ve never heard more beautiful words.

He keeps his camera off for most of the time you two play, too focused on creating his island and asking you questions about how to fish to turn it on. He silently flips it on when you help him decorate his lawn, needing to show you in real-time the decorations he has bought and where you think he should put them. He looks cute. I mean, of course he does. He always does.

You tell him goodbye late in the night, eyes saying a little more than just “see you tomorrow”.

You like him. He likes you.

It’s even better when you two have matching gardens.

A/N: anybody and everybody (especially my precious hailey) let me know what you think!! :]

#sapnap #mcyt #sapnap x gn!reader #sapnap x reader #sapnap x you #sapnap fluff #sapnap drabble #sapnap oneshot #bubblyhoneyfics #honey answers #mcyt x reader #🥚except small

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stylistiquements · 3 years

Text

Day 1 : Soap Bubbles.

𐐪𐑂 Pairing : Sapnap x fem!reader {Playlist}

𐐪𐑂 Summary : You're being introduce to the internet in a peculiar way, it's up to you to decide what you're going to do with it.

𐐪𐑂 Word count : 1.4k | W: written part underneath

𐐪𐑂 Warning : very few swears

Masterlist | Previous | Next

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・　　 .・゜゜・　　・゜゜・

The coffee that sinks inside your stomach brings out a grimace and a click of your tongue where the taste stains; too bitter, too acidic but you’ll drink it anyway and to the last drop; there is something about the idea of spending time with three best friends that is so made of spring and honey that you wish to miss none of it.

“Someone is lurking,” George contemplates out loud, and the call goes silent for a second as if to look for the intruder. And it would so easy to flinch, to hit the back pedal, because you almost feel like one being exposed front stage like that. But today- today is not that day.

It's not that you don't want to join the discussion, it's that it takes a second to warm up, to absorb the energy and become one with it.

And sometimes, all it takes is Sapnap to exclaim, “Panini head, my beloved!” for your smile synchronizes with his chuckles. Somehow, once noticed by the right person, life flows back naturally.

George and Dream greets you in trailing unison, like two kids forced to greet their unwelcomed aunt on a sunday afternoon.

“H-hey troublemakers,” you finally say. Your voice is still quiet, not reluctant, but rather uncertain. It doesn't bother anyone.

“I’m beating Dream’s ass at chess and he’s bitter,” Sap explains, and you silently nod, as if they were able to see you.

A long silence follows along, rythmed by clicks of mouses and keyboards and it falls in your ears like high droplets. It's comfortable. It's intimate, shared with friends only.

"We haven't heard from you in a while," Dream says. "I mean ... before the clout fiasco."

You wouldn't exactly call it a fiasco, even though you don't really like the idea of being perceived a little too closely from the eyes of twitter.com, but you do agree anyway, "I've been caught up on college essays lately."

"That sucks," George probably adds.

“Good thing you’re here, then,” Dream notes, simple as a breath. “This is a worry-free zone.”

It hovers for a second, carried by George’s approval hum.

You squint suspiciously, detective mode, at the profile pictures that light on and off before your eyes, “Thanks, dream.”

He scoffs a “sure” and you’re not sure why you sense a bit of irony stuck on the back of his teeth. You're so tempted to call him out, but you don't. Instead, you write a mental note of this odd moment.

“It’s because I told him about your three brothers and now he’s scared they’re gonna find him and kick his ass,” Sap explains as if he just read your mind.

Sometimes, there’s this thing in the air, though you’re miles away. Something like a connection. There’s this thing when you don’t need to talk for Sap to understand. Sharing one brain cell, you dismiss ironically. Probably coincidences and predictability, but it always sounds a little special, a little like something you’d wish to be out of this world, like morning dew and fairy circles. And it makes you feel safe, at home, just like snuggling up in the sheets during a stormy night. Your smile washes up the sleeve of your hoodie, covered palm carefully hiding your chuckles.

“Three older brothers,” George muses, and there’s no telling if it’s something meant for you to hear. “That’s kinda scary.”

“You better be scared, one of them is probably your FBI agent,” you tease mindlessly, though there's nothing scary about those three grown men.

“I’m British, Bunny,” he points out. Whether the exasperation in his tone is fake or genuine, that, you can’t tell, but you play it cool, grin carved so deep it almost hurts. Dream’s wheezes rise and fall in the background.

“Say that to his face then,” you outbid smirkingly after a second of silence, heels growing into the carpet to make your chair spin slowly left and right, so breezily.

“I’d praise you for the rest of my life if you-Oooooooh your ass is wacked. Your ass is so wacked, dude. You fucked up so bad,” Sapnap chokes out between strings of giggles.

“Oh no, my streamer is losing his game?” You theatrically pout. “My streamer Dreamwastaken, have you met him? Guess you don’t need any of my brothers to kick your ass.”

“Okay yeah- no- it’s not my fault if your- they’re distracting me, okay?” Dream defends.

Slowly, the energy lowers again and the call remembers peace as Dream admits defeat.

“I’m not playing against you anymore,” he mumbles through greeted teeth, your hoodie shelters a muffled giggle. “Let’s talk about y/n’s twitter fame instead.”

“Let’s just not-” you mutter, both because seeing Dream lose at something is a miracle that has to be witnessed once and because you’re somewhat reluctant. “Let’s just not talk about that.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I had no idea it would draw this much attention to you,” Sap admits.

“Well, you talk about her all the time it was only a matter of time before twitter finds out,” George taunts and you secretly smile, listening to the way your best friend tries to defend himself, mind flooded with the last memories you have of when you were able to see those chuckles for real.

“Yeah, Quackity already told me you guys talk behind my back,” you fakely muse. “That’s totally fine, I don’t wanna know what you guys are talking about at all.” It’s a lie, obviously, the idea creeps upon your mind with assumptions you can’t quite get a grip of nor let go.

“You and Quackity talk?’ Sapnap asks, hint of surprise, and you hum.

“Or rather, he talks to me. He keeps calling-.” Shit. The forsaken word traps itself into your mouth. It’s too silly anyway.

“Come on, just say it,” Dream pushes as if he knew too much, more than you even do, and your cheeks flush mindlessly. You don’t notice.

“Dream, quit it!” You demand.

“Quit what?”

“You talk as if you knew more than anyone did.”

“Maybe I just do,” he coos, so dream-like.

Oblivious or careless, Sapnap asks, “Is Quackity bothering you or something?”

“He-" you begin but stop to look for the right way to put it, "He triggers my flight or fight response.”

"I mean, duh," Sapnap probably rolls his eyes.

"But I like him. He's funny."

After a second of silence, George says, “Well that was unexpected.”

“Not so much, I think we’re both chaotic neutral people.”

“What is that neutral chaotic thing anyway?” Dream is confused.

Roll up your sleeve girl boss because now is your time to shine! You offer your best dream smp alignment chart to the classroom. They're speechless, but they listen carefully.

"Then you're more chaotic good than neutral. You're too sweet anyway," Sap says.

"I'd even say lawful good," George debates.

"That's because you haven't seen Bunny during her crazy cat hour."

"True," you note.

"She'll go absolutely batshit."

“What?" George burst between confusion and surprise. "We've never seen you like that."

"A lady never reveal her secrets," you retort. No one answer.

It leaves a second for your mind to enjoy peace. For your eyes to lay on c!tubbo on lawful good and think true, then on c!dream on chaotic evil and think also very true. You huff and it's like a wave; as sarcasm leaves your breath, an idea comes in.

"Sap, check your DMs," you request.

Surrounded by the evening lull, Sapnap’s laugh pops like soap bubbles, "God, you’re so stupid. Why can't you just marry me?"

“So, is it Sapnap approved?” You chuckle lightly to prevent Sapnap’s morning fresh laugh to fill your chest and leak everywhere.

“Just press ‘send tweet’ please,” he confirms with leftovers of a smile in his voice.

"George, get me out of here. They're doing it again," Dream whines.

"Doing what?" He asks, unbothered.

"Act like they're alone in the convo. Just get a room." And you don't get to stand up for yourself that you and your best friend are actually sent to another room.

"Well this one is chaotic evil confirmed," you mumble as you roll your eyes but the vibes are much peaceful, much more comfortable in here. "So ... hi."

"Hi," he chuckles in return.

Maybe that's for the best; a moment that needs to stay a little timeless, secretive and special. It hasn't happened in so long, you don't even remember the last time it did.

"I'm glad you're here. I miss you, you know?" He says, and it's hard to not feel so bittersweet about it. It's hard when longing involves a craved touch, a real smile and an eye contact. Your shoulder sinks in the chair a little harder.

"I miss you too. I'll be here soon," you promise. And soon couldn't come any sooner.

But the conversation, soft and free, will wash up any worries, as always, and you'll end up talking about everything and nothing, about streams and planned videos and college and god knows what. As long as it makes the two of you happy and smiling. Just like the old days, you'll both think and it's fair to say until the evening turns into night and night turns into fatigue.

"Are you sure you're okay about that clout?" He asks once again. "I know you don't like being exposed like that."

"Yeah, yeah don't worry too much about it. I'll try to make good use of it."

"I'm sure you will," he murmurs, but oh boy did he not know what was about to come until you two meet.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・　　 .・゜゜・　　・゜゜・

Taglist : @open-minded-chip-101 ; @itsoakaa ; @gaysludge

A/N : so first of all it has come to my attention that 129 days from now on is actually my birthday so that's a weird coincidence lol. Hi how are you guys?? welcome to the first part I hope you liked it. I'm fairly new to the mcyt community and that's the first time I write for them, so bear with me. Feedbacks are always appreciated. Until next time (ɔˆ ³(ˆ⌣ˆc)

#sapnap smau #smau #mcyt smau #sapnap x you #sapnap x reader #sapnap x y/n #sapnap series #129 days #mcyt x you #mcyt x reader #sapnap fluff

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honey-coloured-passion · 3 years

Text

It’s A Secret (Sapnap x Reader)

first fic first fic!

summary: Dream convinces you and Sap to join a competition where the loser gets exposed, but nothing ever goes as planned when your favorite boy is involved : )

“That’s the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard in my life.” you laughed, rolling your eyes at Sapnap and Dream’s antics. “C’monnn it’ll be so funny the viewers will eat it up!” Dream cooed while you groaned “you say that cuz you always get like more views than Sap and I combined!” To which Dream choked out laughter through his familiar wheeze. “Oh come on, how much money for you to do it?” you heard Sapnap die from laughter over the call at Dream’s bribe before he piped up, “whoever gets exposed you’re buying dinner Dream,” and Dream immediately agreed. “Absolutely worth it, you in y/n?” and you shook your head, “why the hell not I guess.”

You started up your stream, adjusting your headset nervously as you watched chat speed up at the title “Least viewers gets exposed vs Dream and Sap” all confused as to what was going on as their three favorite streamers all went live simultaneously. “Gooooood day chat what’s up!” you grinned, thanking a couple gifters and waiting to see Dream pop up in team speak to give the challenge information. “You guys better stick with me today, I don’t wanna lose the secret challenge,” you laughed, noticing Sap and Dream joined the channel.

“Ready to learn the rules dear viewers?” Dream laughed maniacally. You watched your chat going absolutely crazy.

“Here’s how it works, we are gonna stream for thirty minutes doing everything we can to get the most viewers, then the person with the least at the end has to tell a secret they wrote down on stream, and trust me guys they’re all sooo good.” Dream wheezed while Sapnap chuckled before continuing. “We all told our secrets to George who didn’t want to stream with us cuz he’s lazy but it works cuz now he’s our keeper, so it’ll be fair and George can confirm all the secrets are crazy,” Your chat was losing it’s mind asking you what your secret was.

“So let the view-competition begin” and with that, Dream left the call. “Sap you gonna stay and hang or leave?” you asked, racking your brain to find a way to get hella viewers as soon as possible. “I’ll hang” Sapnap answered to your relief. “Good I can farm your viewers then,” you teased with a giggle. Then your phone started to buzz, and you saw Dream was tweeting out the information and begging for people to come to his stream. “Oh hell no, chat help me out!” you laughed, going to tweet on your own account.

10 minutes in: Dream 68k, You 43k, Sapnap 39k.

“Sapnapppp I’m so excited to learn your deepest darkest secret” you cooed with an evil laugh while Sapnap punched your minecraft character. “Whatever I’ll clutch up, work smarter not harder dear y/n,” you could hear the playful tone in his voice, swallowing the butterflies that kept trying to surface. “How can you work smarter if you barely have a braincell dork!” you teased, beginning to crit out his character when he realized, pearling away with a screech. “You do NOT want to play this game with me I’ll destroy you,” he ate a golden apple then began running towards you axe in hand while you screeched, running away.

15 minutes in: Dream 65k, Sapnap 45k, You 44kk.

“Sapnap how the hell did you convince four different channels to raid you in the past five minutes WHAT” you pouted with a laugh, knowing you could beat him in viewers if you just got one or two more raids. “Mhm a magician never reveals his tricks,” you rolled your eyes though your chat kept spamming “why is y/n blushing so much?” and “SIMPNAP SIMPNAP” because Sapnap was helping you decorate and finish the design of your house. You had to agree with chat, he was adorable, bringing you flowers, collecting the exact type of wood you needed, helping to fill your chests, you were beginning to forget about the competition and just enjoy his presence.

20 minutes in: Dream 68k, Sapnap 46k, You 45k.

“Oh my god it’s so close between you guys” Dream wheezed as he joined your voice channel. “Hey Dreammm wanna send me some stray viewers?” you giggled while Dream denied you. “Mhm no but maybe you can ask Mr. Simpnap to send you some of his? Heard it’s not the only thing he’s been giving you and I figured I’d crash the date.” Dream teased, his tone dangerous while Sapnap exclaimed, “hell no I’m not losing this competition and I am not a simp, especially not for y/n” Sapnap drew out your name, you could hear the smile you adored dancing on his lips. Chat was going crazy, though it was pretty well known how close you and Sapnap were due to the two of you always being on call together and just being found on the SMP hanging out, it was rare the two of you gave the fans this much flirting in one stream. Not that there weren’t hundreds of Y/N x Sapnap compilations on youtube of people pointing out how you and Sap had been in a TeamSpeak room together alone for five hours straight, or him getting defensive of you on the SMP, or him constantly complimenting your skill during MCC’s. Not to mention you always asking where Sapnap was, or someone else asking and you answering quickly, showing how frequently the two of you talked. Needless to say, he was one of your best friends, but that wasn’t gonna stop you from destroying him in this competition.

25 minutes in: Dream 78k, Sapnap 54k, You 51k.

“Hello to my new viewers! Glad you came back to support! Huge shoutout to Niki for the raid and all the raiders who stayed I love y’all!” Your palms were getting sweaty, you needed to get 3k viewers in five minutes or George was gonna drop one of your most embarrassing secrets to the world. “How are you feeling Miss Y/n?” Dream teased, he knew he was safe. “Shut up Dream if I lose I’m ordering some expensive ass food for you to pay for,” you shot back, making him die of laughter. “At least I’m not the one who’s gonna get exposed in front of like 180 thousand views,” you flipped off the camera with a grin, hoping he was looking at your stream.

28 Minutes in: Dream 78k Sapnap 55k, You 51k.

“Man I think it’s over what do you think Sap?” Dream teased while you laughed, still hopeful that something could happen in two minutes. “Eh I say give it another minute then we call it. You never know” Sap replied cooly. “Shut up you’re like 4 thousand people ahead it’s over for me” you pretended to cry, making Sapnap and Dream break into laughter. “You really don’t wanna lose huh.” Sapnap said, “um duh, this sucks,” you answered, quickly refreshing your view count.

Then something crazy happened.

~Sapnap is raiding with a party of 55k~

30 minutes, time up: You 110k, Dream 78k, Sapnap 0.

“WHAT” Dream was the first to scream. You did a triple take before screeching into the mic “SAPNAP WHAT ARE YOU DOING” to which he quietly replied, “I didn’t want you to be sad.” making your cheeks flush to an ungodly warmth. “Oh- uh does this still count? What’s happening?” you reached for your water bottle when George joined the call.

“Interesting ending, but I know the secret so I guess I’d say it makes sense” You froze. “What the hell does that mean?” You said, noticing Sapnap had turned on his camera function in the call. “O-ok, George you gonna announce his secret?” Dream tried to take control, noticing his chat was spinning out of control. George piped up, "I think it’s better Sapnap says it. I’m just here to make sure he doesn’t chicken out,” Then Sapnap cleared his throat. “Well so uh, I guess my secret is...” You saw him look straight into the camera, his eyes felt like they were meeting yours.

“I like you y/n. Like a lot.”

Your jaw fell open, George and Dream began screaming and whooping, and your chat absolutely lost it’s mind, going so fast your chat function crashed. Your immediate reaction was to mute yourself on stream. “I’m muted now- Sap- Nick, are you serious?” you gulped, staring at Sapnap’s video while he couldn’t stop grinning. “You really think I’d do all this just to lie? No chance in hell. We can talk about it after stream but I thought it’d be fun to do it live. I can help you end stream if you want?” Your brain was flying high, your heart beating out of your chest, and your mods were begging for help.

“O-okay. Uh hey chat! Nice stream today, record high viewer ship thanks to uh- Nick- Sapnap, thanks to Sapnap um, I’m gonna get off now,” You took a few deep breaths, gaining your traction before continuing. You hovered your mouse over the end stream button but decided you had one more thing to say. Leaning close into the mic with a smile you whispered,

“Oh and Sapnap, I like you too”

~live ended~

checkout my other sapnap fic!

#sapnap #sapnap x reader #dteam #dream team x reader #dream #georgenotfound #dream team fanfic #dteam fanfic #mcyter #mcyters #mcyter fanfic #dream x reader #dreamwastaken

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airplanned · 3 years

Text

Trill AU Part 5

Such Drama!

***

Part 1

When the hail cut off, they both scrambled at their consoles, Zelda probably trying to get the deflector dish working, Link throwing together a couple of fail safes in case things went very--

They both turned at the sound of a transporter behind them, and Link stood, straightening his jacket and straightening his spine. The three intruders who materialized on the bridge had absurdly large pulse cannons. There was no way they needed those to incapacitate Link, Zelda, and a ship full of sleeping people. They just wanted to look intimidating and ended up looking ridiculous.

"Welcome aboard," Link said. "I'm Lt Link. This is Lt Zelda. My apologies that we're not proper hosts at the moment."

They punched Link in the face.

Zelda squeaked and grabbed him as he stumbled, keeping him on his feet.

He blinked to clear the stars that danced in his eyes. The punch had loosened his sinus infection, and his first foolish thought was that Zelda was going to see his snot.

The Trill who was clearly their leader smirked at him, hefting his pulse cannon across his shoulder. "I'm Admiral Kohga, and I'm claiming this salvage operation."

Link wasn't going to argue that their ship, which still had power and a crew of six hundred people could in no way be defined as a salvage operation.

He cut his eyes to Zelda over his shoulder, who gave a fractional shake to her head. She hadn't heard of this guy either.

"Perhaps we can reach an agreement," Link said.

Kohga slung his pulse cannon down into Link's face. "Perhaps I can kill you and take your warp core anyway."

Link held up his hands, swallowing down the fear that prickled the back of his throat, fighting with his tongue to keep the words coming. "If you want the warp core, you can take it. Just take it and leave." They could get another. They weren't too far out. A rescue ship could be there in 48 hours, maybe even sooner.

Zelda's fingers bit into his arm, and he shot her another look to see her begging with her eyes, her teeth sunk deep in her lip. She'd done extensive modifications to their warp core. It was a prototype and maybe one of the most advanced models in the fleet. He tried to convince her with just a widening of his eyes that they could get another, she’d only be set back a month, but her fingers bit harder into his arm to tell him that wasn't good enough.

Did she not want to lose her life's work, or did she not want these people to have it?

It didn't matter.

In a rush, he said, "Computer lock: authorization Fi Alpha 284," and managed to get it all out before he was punched in the face again.

"What did you do!? Unlock the computer!"

Link rubbed his jaw and glared at them. "Get off my ship."

With a growl, a pulse cannon was aimed so close to his face that he had to lean back. "Unlock it or I kill you," Kohga said.

"You kill me and you'll never get access."

The intruder narrowed his eyes. Then he aimed his weapon at Zelda. "Unlock it or I kill her. Aren't Federation types like you supposed to do anything to protect each other? You're a joined Trill. You're not going to let me kill a symbiont, are you?" He dropped the weapon from Zelda's face to her stomach.

Link swallowed. "That's right. I'm not going to let you hurt her. Which is why the computer needs her authorization too."

"What? You're lying."

Link jerked his head towards his console, inviting them to look. Kohga glared at him and then jerked his head at the console too, ordering his lackey on the right to go check it out.

"He's right."

Kohga swore, turning away and stamping his feet. Again and again.

Zelda's hand stroked his arm. A sign of thanks. An unconscious gesture of support from another lifetime.

When Kohga calmed down, he sighed dramatically and turned to give Link a suspicious look. He pointed a finger, bobbing it as he thought. "Authorization Fi. Your name is Fi."

Welp. He tried.

"I've heard of you." Kohga took a step closer. "Ha!" He turned to his lackey. "You know what this guy did?" He wiggled his fingers. "The taboo. Reassociation!" He sounded almost giddy. "This guy married another bonded Trill, and then what does his next host do? Goes straight back and marries them again!"

"We didn't get married again," Link corrected. Ravio didn't think it was necessary as they were still married in his heart (that sap). Tetra liked saying they were living in sin. Which was admittedly pretty funny, considering.

"This guy gives up everything and gets banished by the Symbiosis Commission, and then what happens? They break up! It's too funny."

Link shrugged. It wasn't that funny.

Kohga gestured around the bridge. "Do they know? Does she know?"

Zelda pulled her hands away, stepping back as if she was too shocked and disgusted to be near him. As if she wasn't banished the same day he was.

Kohga gave her a sympathetic look so fake Link wondered how he thought anyone would buy it. "Can you believe that?" he cooed. "He sentenced his own symbiont to death. He spit on our traditions. Everything we stand for! Those traditions are there for a reason, you know. Symbionts should live many different lives! Not the same one over and over! They shouldn't lock the host into a life they didn't choose. That's cruel. And then there's the memory seep. Doing the same things they’ve done in other lives over and over. It messes up a host's brain until they don't know which host they are, what planet they're on, what day it is! And then the symbiont takes over and the host doesn't even matter anymore. Just the symbiont. The whole power balance is disrupted! You really want to throw your lot in with this guy?"

"I..."

"If you unlock the computer, I'll take him off your hands for you."

She swallowed looking very small and fragile. In a shaking voice, she said, "I can't let you have my warp core."

She was such a pro.

"Arrrrgggggh!" Kohga clawed at his hair. Then huffed a breath and turned back to Link in confusion. "How do you get new hosts without going through the Symbiosis Committee?"

"Why? Do you want to join up? You probably should. I doubt they'll like it when they hear about your life of crime."

Kohga waved that away as if it didn't concern him in the least, which meant he either had no idea of the consequences that would rain down on him in his next life or he was putting on a show. "You know...we're both outlaws," Kohga said, wheedling at him. "Why don't you help me out? Give me the warp core? I'll split it with you. 50/50."

Link stared at him. "No. You see this is my ship. And I don't feel like sharing."

Kohga's face wrinkled up in rage. "Take them," he ordered. "We'll just go rip the damn thing out!"

And with that, the intruders grabbed them by the arms, shoved them into the turbolift at gunpoint and dragged them down to the engine room, where they were pushed to the floor and watched by one of the lackeys while Kohga and the other Trill tried to override Link's lockout and did a lot of swearing and banging their fists against the console.

Zelda flinched with every bang.

He tapped all his fingertips against the floor. What have you got? Or in this case, Are you okay?

She took a deep breath, eyes on the fools messing with her engine. She nodded, but made it look like she was rocking to soothe herself.

He fluttered his fingers in a soft wave--I’ve got nothing.

She responded by tapping the side of her hand against the floor as if neatening cards. Two face cards. They could make something work if they played it right. She had a plan.

What that plan was, she couldn't say in front of their guard, and instead demanded, "How the hell are you in Starfleet if you were banished?"

The corner of his mouth quirked into a smile, because that sounded a little bit like she was interested in his life. "I'm an Orion citizen."

"What."

"There's a large Trill ex-pat community there. I was born in part of the capital city called Terry Town that's 90% Trill. We even had a bluefish deli and a Klonek festival."

She nodded. "One time I visited Little Trill on Axanar."

Anaxar. She'd made her way to Axanar. He could see here there with all those evergreen trees stretching up to touch the sky. He was strangely relieved that she'd found safe harbor.

"They had the worst ralband pie I've ever tasted,” she said.

Link grinned and shook his head. "I won't hear a word against my mother's abomination of a spice bread recipe."

Zelda snorted, something that might count as genuine humor.

"It was my favorite food growing up," he said. "And then I was joined and learned what it tastes like if you have ingredients actually grown on Trill."

"And not freeze dried into submission."

"Or replicated. The tang never has the right bite."

She caught his eye, and for a moment they just stared at each other.

She tapped the side of her hand again. She had a plan.

Part 6

#Zelda #my fic #Trill AU #Terry Town is a joke and a good one

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blossom-hwa · 3 years

Text

valentine’s day + stray kids ✧

the enablers: @wingkkun by virtue of their existence and @thepixelelf bc of her @newskynet valentine’s day prompt list (which can be found here! check it out :D) anyway you can blame them for my word vomits tonight tomorrow <3 happy early valentine’s day and I hope you enjoy these blurbs!

pairing: stray kids x gender neutral!reader (one blurb for each member!)

wc: 3.5k (total)

genre: fluff, lots of fluff, university!au

triggers: cursing

golcha version | the boyz version

SKZ Scenarios Masterlist | SKZ Drabbles Masterlist

1. “shit, what day is it again?”

when chan opens the door to a beaming you, he has no idea what’s going on. he still has headphones around his neck, there are definitely bags under his eyes, he hasn’t slept in maybe close to twenty hours, and there is definitely something important that he’s forgetting, judging by the nonplussed expression that has now slid over your face.

“chan, when did you sleep last night?” you ask, stepping into his dorm. you’re holding something behind your back that chan’s craning his neck to see, but you catch sight and twist away. “hey, no looking.”

the knowledge that you have something is more than enough, though, to get his overly tired brain actually thinking. his eyes narrow. what the heck is he forgetting -

oh.

oh no.

chan scrambles around for his phone as you look over, eyebrows rising as he pats his pockets. “shit, what day is it again?”

you hold up your own phone, giving him an eyeful of your lock screen set to a picture of himself laughing into the camera. he isn’t focused on that, though - he’s focused on the words underneath the time that say “february 14, 2021.”

“oh my god, it’s valentine’s day.”

“no shit, sherlock.” you put a finger to his forehead and press hard. “i made reservations.”

“what? okay, no, i swear you didn’t tell me about this -”

“i didn’t, chan.” you smile, shaking your head. “it was supposed to be a surprise. and i knew you’d forget the day or something because you always do lose track of time - hey, don’t look at me that way, i even made a bet with minho on the way and i’m right - so i came early to force you to sleep for several hours before we go out.”

okay, that’s fair, but chan’s lips curve downward into a pout anyway. “i didn’t forget,” he protests. “well, i forgot today, but i still have something for you! i got it last week.” he looks around frantically, then drags a box out from underneath his bed. “here!”

a wide smile splits your face and you pull your own present from behind your back, a red-wrapped box that chan begins to open as you cuddle the teddy bear he’s handed over to you. “chan, you sap,” you say, words muffled in the bear’s fur. “god i love you.”

“and i love you too,” he replies, pulling out a box of his favorite candy. “kiss?”

laughing, you press your lips together once, twice before pulling away. “sleep time,” you announce. “no kisses until you’ve gotten at least three hours.”

chan all but lunges into bed, trapping you with him between his arms. “sleeping now,” he says, voice muffled into your shirt. “goodnight.”

“good afternoon, more like.” you smile anyway, stroking his hair. “but good night.”

18. “oh my god, this chocolate tastes like chalk.”

minho is about to lose his shit in this tiny hospital bed with the sterile white sheets and curtains barring sunlight from streaming on his body. back when his ankle wasn’t broken to high hell, he really hadn’t given the sun enough appreciation. after three days of almost zero movement, though, he swears he’ll actually go outside voluntarily once he gets out of here.

the door opens. a head peeks in.

ah. there’s his daily dose of human sunshine.

a smile slides onto minho’s face as you come in, arms full of snacks and flowers. you place a bouquet of red roses on the little table beside his bed and dump the snacks onto his sheets. “happy valentine’s day, idiot boyfriend who broke his ankle just three days before today.”

minho scowls. “it’s not like i tried to.”

“i know. even you’re not that dumb.” you pat his head mockingly, laughing as minho’s scowl deepens. “sit up, idiot. here, i’ll help.”

he allows his frown to turn into a grudging smile as you help him sit properly in bed, careful not to jar his ankle before passing him one of the bags of chocolates in his lap. “jisung gave this to me for you and asked me to ask you if you would be his valentine.”

minho pauses in opening the bag. “what.”

“jisung for you.” you laugh. “his partner was right next to him laughing their ass off. try the chocolates.”

he picks one out. puts it in his mouth. chews. “oh my god, this chocolate tastes like chalk.”

“what - how the fuck do you know what chalk tastes like?”

“i don’t, what the fuck? i just imagine it would taste like this.”

you snort. “so my boyfriend first breaks his ankle dancing three days before we valentine’s, and on this romantic day i learn he’s definitely eaten chalk.” you sigh, snatching a bag of gummies from the sheets. “what a day.”

“i don’t eat chalk!”

“bet.”

he opens his mouth to reply, but you cut him off with a kiss. “eat your chalk chocolate,” you direct when you pull away. “or jisung will get upset.”

“ugh fine.” he rolls his eyes. “but i’m only listening to you because i love you.”

“cheeseball.” you smile. “i love you too.”

20. “babe.” / “since when do you call me babe?”

grinning, jisung picks up the bouquet of roses you were about to hand him before falling to the ground in laughter. “these for me?”

“no, they’re for my valentine.” you snatch them back, still wheezing. “which was going to be you, but you ditched me for minho, so now i need to find someone else.”

“aw, come on.” jisung pouts, pursing his lips actively even as you try to hide the smile on your face by turning away. “y/n! y/n. y/nnnnnnnnn. y/n, look at me. please? y/n. babe.”

“what the - jisung - since when do you call me babe?” your half disgusted, half amused face sends him into hysterics as he glomps you in a hug, laughing into your shoulder. “hey, sung! get away! you’re drooling on my clothes!”

“am not!” jisung pulls away, trying to pout but laughing too hard to do so. you just looked so fucking funny. “and what’s wrong with me calling you babe?”

“don’t do it again.” you push his shoulder. “do not. you won’t like the consequences.”

“consequences?”

“one, you don’t get these flowers. i’ll put them in my own room.” you wave the bouquet in front of him. “two, i give chan the all clear to play ‘wow’ on his campus radio station.”

“you wouldn’t dare -”

“three, no kisses for a week.”

jisung falls to his knees. “no, no, y/n, my beautiful and wonderful significant partner, i will never call you babe again, please don’t sentence me the barren world of no kisses for a week just because of my idiot mouth -”

“jesus christ, jisung, get up. you’re making a scene.” you laugh anyway, pulling him up before placing a chaste kiss on the corner of his lips. “i was just joking. but please don’t call me babe if you don’t want me to cringe to the next dimension.”

“done deal.” jisung holds his out his hands. “flowers?”

you roll your eyes, handing them over. he breathes in their scent, smiling widely. “they’re so pretty!” then he looks up and winks. “but not as pretty as you.”

at that, you laugh again, crushing the bouquet as you wrap him in a hug. “i love you so much, jisung,” you murmur into his ear.

his arms reach out to loop around your waist as he pulls you closer. “i love you too,” he replies, smiling.

for a moment, you two only stand, finding peace in each other’s warmth. then jisung’s mouth runs once more.

“you know, i wrote my lyrics for ‘wow’ thinking of you.”

“do you have to ruin every moment?”

14. “you’re seriously asking me out on valentine’s day?”

changbin doesn’t even bother to reply to the picture jisung’s just sent of the flowers his partner gave him. he’s too nervous, his stomach literally fluttering as he stops his motorcycle by the curb and wheels it into the shop.

“hi, welcome, what can i - changbin?” you raise an eyebrow. “did you seriously bang up your motorcycle on valentine’s day?”

changbin’s ears turn bright red. he knows it even if he can’t see them. you think he always comes here because something else has magically gone wrong with his motorcycle, but what you don’t know is that he’s been pretending things are wrong with the vehicle for months at this point just so he has an excuse to see you.

and now it’s valentine’s day. the day he chose to fess up and admit how he feels and ask you on a date.

heck.

“nothing’s... broken.” changbin scratches his neck. “uh...”

both of your eyebrows are now high up on your forehead. “so why are you here?”

“i...” he coughs, feeling his ears flare even hotter. “i wanted - i wanted to ask if you -” he looks down, unable to look at you. “i wanted to ask if you would go out with me today. like. on a date.”

silence. he doesn’t have the courage to look up.

“you’re seriously asking me out on valentine’s day?”

changbin shrinks behind his motorcycle. holy fuck, this was the worst idea, you’re about to reject him and his heart is going to shatter -

then you step forward, place a hand on the vehicle. “okay, that came out wrong.” you tip his chin up gently so he’s forced to look into your soft, teasing eyes. “what i meant is that i’d love to go on a date with you today. i just didn’t expect you to ask me out on valentine’s day. didn’t seem like a very you thing to do.” you pause. “though i guess considering that song you played for me last time, it isn’t that surprising.”

oh, god. on track. changbin wrote that thinking of you.

“wait, seriously?”

he really just said that out loud. changbin groans, slapping his forehead. “why am i dumb,” he mumbles into his hand.

you laugh, peeling his hand away with grease-covered fingers. “you’re not dumb, bin. just sweet.” as he melts from the use of your nickname, you wave your greasy palm in front of his face. “let me go wash and tell seungmin to close up early. i’ll be out in a second.” you grin. “looking forward to whatever you have planned.”

(later, when you wrap your now clean arms around changbin’s waist on his motorcycle, he smiles so wide it feels like his face is going to split.)

25. “i love you.”

with a relieved sigh, seungmin locks up the shop, wiping grease-stained fingers on a towel. despite the fact that he mostly only handles the register, dirt still manages to get everywhere, even when he tries to be careful.

doesn’t matter. seungmin likes his job, likes it even though it’s a little hard to be independent from his parents after so many years of living off their credit card. the freedom is sweet, though - now he can learn what he wants, do what he wants, and best of all...

now he can date whom he wants.

seungmin smiles, running up to his dorm so he has just enough time to change and shower before meeting you. he cleans up quickly before grabbing the singular rose in a glass on his desk and racing downstairs once more, hair still slightly damp, to meet you in front of the building.

god, you’re beautiful, standing against the backdrop of the afternoon sun. in the moment that you don’t notice him walking out the door, he runs forward, smiling, before engulfing you in a back hug.

“hey - oh, seungmin.” he can hear the smile in your voice as you clutch his hands hanging around your shoulders. “you scared me!”

“sorry,” he says, pulling away to spin you around. god, looking into your laughing face, seungmin knows everything was worth it. he may have lived in the lap of luxury before, attending parties every other weekend and drinking the finest champagne while dressed in the most resplendent clothing (courtesy of the kim family empire), but luxury doesn’t mean much when he was missing real, true love, right? you were one of the first, other than hyunjin, to see through his cold facade and break into the warm heart underneath.

as he hands you the rose, he’s glad, so glad that you gave him the courage to go head to head with his parents for the first time, to finally break away from their strangling control over every bit of his life. what did he need parties and designer clothing and jewels for, anyway? he’s still living, still able to support himself even if it means a little more work. and even if he’s tired, he has your lips to come back to, every day.

“i love you,” he murmurs, kissing you softly, sweetly. “i really do, y/n.”

“so do i,” you breathe, smiling against his lips in reply.

12. “valentine’s day... that’s the one with the bunny, right?”

hyunjin kind of wants to hit you, significant other or not. judging by your shit-eating grin, you probably know exactly how he feels, but you keep your eyes as soft and innocent as possible. “no, i don’t know what day it is, hyunjin. isn’t it just february 14?”

“y/n.”

“hyunjin.”

he groans, sinking dramatically to the ground. “it’s valentine’s day.”

“oh. right.” you adopt a thinking expression, raising your eyes to the sky. “valentine’s day... that’s the one with the bunny, right?”

“y/n!”

“i’m kidding, i’m kidding!” you finally laugh, reaching out a hand to pull him up from the university quad. “hey, get up, hyunjin. you’re going to get your designer clothes dirty.”

shit, he is. hyunjin accepts your hand, dusting grass bits off of his shirt. “you’re so mean,” he whines. “to think i had a whole evening planned and all, just for you to pretend to forget the entire day.”

“ah, but i didn’t forget. i only pretended to.” you grin, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “and to prove it, i have something for you! close your eyes.”

eagerness and apprehension flooding his veins, hyunjin shuts his eyes. for a moment, he hears you digging around in your bag, and then you put something in his hand. “here!”

opening his eyes, hyunjin looks down to see a pair of elegant earrings in his palm. you made them, definitely - he can see the tiny mark of your initials etched in the metal of one earring, his initials on the other - and he smiles wide, so wide, all of your previous transgressions forgotten in this moment. “i love them,” he says, already unfastening the hoops currently in his ears to put the new ones in.

“i thought you would. hey, let me help.” your fingers take the earrings, deftly inserting one into each ear. “perfect.”

“i have something for you two, but you’ll get it later.” hyunjin pockets his old earrings before taking your hand. “right now, i’m taking you on a date.”

“what, i have no say in this?” your eyes sparkle.

“nope!” hyunjin laughs, swinging your arms in the air. “come on, i swear the evening’s going to be a lot of fun.”

“i believe you.” you stop him to kiss him once, softly. “everything’s fun with you, hyunjin.”

15. “shut up and kiss me.”

with the brownie box in his hands almost empty, felix makes every effort to dodge anyone who knows for fear that they’ll ask for one of the last few treats left inside. hyunjin took like five earlier, jesus christ, even when felix warned him he was saving some for you. ungrateful brat.

thankfully, no one accosts him, and he makes it to your meeting place without interruption. there you already are, mindlessly twirling a bouquet of roses around in your fingers. as he approaches, you look up, and felix is (once again) blown away by the intensity of your smile.

some people liken him to the sun. others, with his freckles, compare him to the stars. both, though, felix thinks are more proper descriptors for you and your lovely grin that’s as bright as the sun and the stars combined.

“felix!” you stand as he comes closer, handing him the roses. he passes over the box of brownies and you screech in delight, taking off the lid and popping one of them into your mouth. “oh my god, it’s so good.”

“don’t talk with your mouth full,” felix scolds, smiling anyway. “do you only love me for my brownies?”

“maybe” is the cheeky reply. you laugh as felix reels in mock astonishment, placing a dramatic hand to his chest. “i’ve been betrayed,” he wheezes. “stabbed in the back by my one true love who turned traitor to our romance, how will i live -”

“hey, felix?”

he looks up. “hm?”

your eyes sparkle. “shut up and kiss me.”

your lips taste like chocolate, sweeter even than the brownie you just finished. felix puts his arms around you, rose petals brushing against your back as he holds you close, close, closer -

“oh my god.”

a familiar voice makes felix pull away from your lips as he turns around. “jeongin?”

“nope, nope, nope,” the younger boy chants, eyes fully closed. “i saw none of that, jesus christ, come on, let’s go -”

too late, felix notices the person standing next to his friend, eyes also screwed shut. a smirk rises on his face. that must be jeongin’s crush, he thinks as they race away, the crush he’s been sweating over asking out for the last few weeks.

“aw, man.” felix frowns, suddenly coming to a realization. “jeongin probably wanted to confess here.”

“he’ll do fine,” you laugh, tugging at his arm. “now get back here. we’re not finished.”

felix smiles, pulling you close once more. “no, we aren’t.”

6. “no one’s ever given me something like this before.”

listen. jeongin did not need to see felix making out with his partner right before he was about to confess. not only did it completely ruin his plans to talk to you in the prettiest part of campus, but he also has an image seared into his mind that he really does not need.

“sorry,” he mutters, still unable to look at you.

“it’s fine.” jeongin can hear the second hand embarrassment in your voice. “it wasn’t your fault. uh.” you pause. “you said... you wanted to tell me something?”

right. jeongin squeezes his eyes shut, desperately trying to erase the previous images from his brain. “yeah. i did. um.” he swallows, then forces himself to look into eyes that sparkle in the fading sunlight, eyes that he fell in love with so many months ago when you two first worked on that project together.

thankfully, his words don’t fail him. “i just wanted to say i like you a lot, y/n.” jeongin keeps looking at you, even though all he wants to do is run away screaming. “as in... i want to ask you out. if that’s okay with you.”

silence.

then you start giggling.

jeongin frowns. why -

“oh my god, jeongin.” you double over on the bench, laughing even harder. “i’m so sorry.”

his heart sinks as embarrassment begins to burn his ears. “if you don’t like me -”

“no, no!” you straighten, wiping your eyes. “no, it’s not about that. it’s just -” you snort - “oh my god, you wanted to ask me out in the garden, right? but felix was there, and... jesus christ. jeongin, i’m so sorry.”

his cheeks flare red, but he also lets out a major sigh of relief that your laughter wasn’t a rejection. “yeah,” he says, a grudging smile climbing onto his face. “yeah, that’s pretty much what happened.”

you wipe your eyes again. “sorry for laughing. i didn’t mean to make fun of you or anything. i’d actually love to go out with you.” you smile. “really.”

“well, thank god for that.” jeongin huffs, cheeks still hot. “or i would’ve gotten this for nothing.” he holds out a small teddy bear. “this is for you.”

“oh.” you take it, eyes turning soft. “oh. no one...” you swallow. “no one’s ever given me something like this before.”

jeongin’s heart melts, it really does, seeing the slow, shy smile spread across your face as you hold the bear close. “thank you, jeongin.”

“you’re welcome,” he breathes, hardly able to find his words as the sun creates a stunning backdrop behind you as it begins to set. “happy valentine’s day, y/n.”

you smile wide, so wide. “happy valentine’s day, jeongin.”

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steve0discusses · 3 years

Text

Yugioh S5 Ep 20: Pharaoh’s Cool New Trick

Digging my way through quite a pile of commission work (funny how these things only come all at once or not at all), nearing the light at the end of the tunnel, was looking forward to some free time to catch up on my many little side projects when I was asked to take off for a weekend to do some cat-sitting to which I would NEVER say no to a cat, so like...Rip this blog I guess, we only update like once a week nowadays, but what do you do?

That’s right, play Puzzles and Dragons! The only phone game worth paying any attention to! Where they just released Pegasus on their Yugioh Collab and he looks pretty great!

So I’m just gonna take a second for some art appreciation, because the Puzzles and Dragons art team is just A++++ honestly, and yes, I did pull 13 times to get a Pegasus in my monster box, and yes, he is a completely insane team leader that is absolutely broken when paired with Yugi (the numbers are so satisfying) but...look at him. He looks so good!

(also I finally got Joey Wheeler, and so now my gatcha cravings are settled. And, don’t worry, I play this game so much that I was there during Christmas when they offered like a bajillion stones for free so I didn’t actually use real money on this.)

Now PAD also released a Weevil and Rex, and I don’t know why, and neither does the art team because they still look pretty good but in comparison to all the mains, they sure do looks like just some shorty guys in some casuals.

though I gotta admit, I want to learn how the hell this art team does swooshy effects, because man, that would make my art so much better to just have flames violently exploding out of all my art. Why am I not doing that more often? I have the technology.

anyway, I didn’t bother trying to pull them. Maybe I’ll accidentally pull them when they eventually release a Duke Devlin. (also, RIP to the fact that Roland will probably never be in Puzzles and Dragons but like...I can only send them so many polite letters covered in stickers pretending I’m some 10 year old child and writing in my broken Hiragana “Roland in PAD?”. Thems the breaks. (They also might not remember who Roland is.))

Shoutouts to the card that Weevil is holding that is censoring this nipple on the booby spider, PS.

So because this is not actually a Puzzles and Dragons blog, and it’s been ten eons since I regularly updated so I could remember episode to episode...where the hell were we?

That’s right, we’re on an island now. This show’s wonderful obsession with evil islands (and spoiler, this is one of the few Yugioh Islands that doesn’t explode at the end. Mostly because Kaiba isn’t here to do it or this place would be cinder)

(read more island stuff under the cut)

Anyway, after announcing “hey guys! Screw islands!” Yugi immediately collapses and without any warning.

Apparently the armor is a big ol parasite, which is something that Yugi is so used to at this point that he refuses to admit that this is a problem. Just normal Muto stuff, refusing to tell anyone that he has a serious illness going on underneath that giant mass of hair.

(the sailor moon vibes coming off this weird orb energy)

Sort of feels like a call back to S1 when Yugi was clearly possessed and everyone else was like “He acting weird to you?” except it’s S5 and everyone has learned to never trust Yugi when he says he’s fine and they are responding like he is about to die. Which is correct.

Outside of the cave falls this scroll that is...glowing, I guess. So they open it up and get a bunch of hieroglyphs that give them the “riddle of light” and like youknow...it’s riddle stuff.

They’re doing this riddle for “wings.” And it’s like...everyone’s monster here has a set of wings or an ability to fly. Every single monster except for I dunno, flaming swordsman? Hell, Yugi himself had two sets of wings when he fused with Dark Magician (which was weird, and I still don’t like to think about what technically was going on there.) But we have to go and get ourselves even more wings.

Weirdly, Joey turns to Tea and does something that in any other show would be completely normal. He was like “you want to stay here with Yugi, don’t you?” and it was the first time Joey has ever actually addressed the fact that Tea and Yugi are close. Uncharted territory. I was amazed at the amount of casual shipping that is happening here. It’s almost like a normal ass relationship.

So the boys decide to go off, and be boys and tackle this themselves. And they shouldn’t have, because Tea is smart for this group, and also has the only healing spell.

Like if you’re playing D+D you wouldn’t typically leave your only healer behind. Just saying.

Also like...Grandpa Muto went with them? I guess he’d have to since he’s the translator but also...kind of weird to leave your grandson dying in a cave, but maybe that’s just the Muto lifestyle.

Do not be fooled by my caps, no one has addressed the Bakura in the puzzle for 3 seasons. I’m starting to think this show will never address the Bakura in the puzzle. Which honestly, that would be hilarious if they made a big deal out of that plot point and then couldn’t use it in the end.

And speaking of plot points that kind of come out of nowhere and don’t make full sense with the continuity of the show--Joey has regressed back to the 4th grade.

Hey show? What?

So like if you love Joey, this is not the arc for you, because this arc he is reduced to a Himbo and nothing else. Straight up didn’t know what an echo is, but is very strong and pretty, I guess.

This inevitably happens with any TV show becuase different people make different parts, and I’ve brought up before that sometimes it feels like some teams only have loose post-it notes of what any character should be like at any given point (ESPECIALLY with Seto Kaiba’s timeline) but like...

...Personally I’m mot so fond of this interpretation of Joey, kind of ignores Joey’s best traits, and makes Tristan look way too smart in comparison (and like I always pinned Tristan to be the Himbo of the group, but maybe it’s because they give Tristan so little else to do?)

And like don’t get me wrong, Joey’s a dumbass a lot of the time and needs to get corrected by his pals...but...to the point he doesn’t know what an echo is? He’s a dumbass in a High School student sort of way, youknow?

Anyway, they get down to this big ravine, and they have to destroy this stone while the light passes over it. Kind of feels like a Breath of the Wild shrine quest, actually. In fact, I think Breath of the Wild recycled the shadow/sunlight pathing quest like 4 or 5 times. (I love Breath of the Wild to death but boy did they run out of ideas at the end there.)

They have to fight a glass monster and it’s kind of like...do you know the game Balls 3D? probably not, but it looked like a bunch of random shapes stuck together like a 90′s animation. They basically went to war with shapes.

Pure Himbo energy, has several pokemon, but punches for his pokemon instead of using them. A power move if I ever saw one.

Youknow that would make pokemon a lot more interesting if you could like throw out your pikachu, and then choose to just physically run up to your opponents Eevee and sock it in the jaw. Raise of hands--I know you all would love a version of pokemon like that. Let Ash Ketchum punch a Ratata.

Bro has informed me that Ash does do something like this in the anime. But I’m not talking about the anime, I’m talking about the video game. Give me the option to physically combat my rival. This is what I want, Pokemon.

They discover a way to break the monolith, and the show thinks we’re like actually 7 years old (because the show is Y7, although I forget because it deals with so many dark themes) so the show is going to hold on to this puzzle for a while...just to fill time. And it’s fine because we gotta switch over to Pharaoh anyway.

Yami has this dream again. He attempts to fuse with Dark magician to overcome the dream, but alas, he is still not strong enough.

Yugi wakes up in this murky cave while Tea is out washing out like...some rag? (he’s also still got a rag, so I guess multiple rags were required for how sweaty Yugi is.)

Yugi says “I feel like I’m a new man!” a lot in this episode, and every time he calls himself a man like he’s some sort of adult it’s very funny to me.

And then this plot lore dropped.

I mean I guess inevitably it had to happen...

But man, end of an era. It was freakin hilarious while it lasted: that Pharaoh refused to read ancient Egyptian because it’s like 2002 and he is a High Schooler living in Japan and he actually doesn’t WANT to resolve the mystery of the puzzle. Maybe the people who made this arc don’t know about how in S2 and S3, the fact Pharaoh couldn’t read Marik’s back tatt was like...a really big issue. He couldn’t read the God card, he couldn’t even read that massive tablet that read “HEY PHARAOH THIS IS LITERALLY YOU”. KAIBA had to tell him how to read the God card for him. Freakin Seto “Magic is a lie” Kaiba had to tell him how to use the God Card because Pharaoh couldn’t read it.

But like...Pharaoh finally gave in at some point after the world was devoured by the Leviathan, and before Kaiba finished building Kaibaland (which was already built in S1 but wtv)

The timelines on this show have always been a mishmash...but this one is just like...

...show are you trying to convince me that at any point in this show after season Zero, Pharaoh had any idea what he was doing? Did he sap that brain energy straight out of Joey Wheeler so he could do this?

Wow.

(secretly hoping he forgets how to read Egyptian after this arc is over and the show goes back to the other development team)

Pharaohs reasoning is that, if this is the riddle of the light.....

....then where is the riddle of darkness????????????

and when Tea was like “Pharaoh that is not even remotely logic. Omg it’s so bright outside, lets go back to gross cave.” and Pharaoh was like “Tea! You got it!” and she was like “What the hell are you talking about?”

Not gonna lie, I saw the Orichalcos green, and I got concerned.

Anyway, Yugi gets very frustrated and was like “ugh, lets go save em. They’re gonna die (again.)” and marches down there as if he didn’t pass out an hour ago.

And he fuses with Dark Magician again while everyone else (including his grandpa) was like “Yugi are you freakin kidding me? The suit freakin kills you omg! Tea you had one freakin job!”

And then we get the plot twist that...I mean it makes sense but it was choreographed in a confusing way.

And out of no where this guy shows up again:

So this mysterious man shows up and says “If you don’t succeed you have to live here forever” which...nice...that would probably save the world a lot of problems if Yami got locked away and took his OP puzzle with him. And then this man also says “if you do succeed you become VERY POWERFUL” and Yami was like. “...”

This whole episode had a theme to it, where Tristan and Joey were trying to prove that they could do things on their own and without Yugi’s help. And honestly...felt a little bit misplaced. Yami’s the same guy who murdered Yugi last season with the Orichalcos so like...

...I mean he is probably more reliable than Tristan who once died and turned into a robot monkey for 10ish episodes.

and then they flew into a glowing door.

Folks, this was wild to look at.

This is wild.

And at this point I closed Photoshop and thought I was done. But then I looked at my timeline on the video and was like...wait...there’s more?

and I’m really glad I kept watching because it went back to Alex, who...is apparently just still at those steps in this haunted ass Pyramid.

Now we’re watching Yugioh.

I forgot for a second when they turned Joey into a Himbo and made Pharaoh literate, but we’re back. I mean...

...look at the liner art on this adult man.

So...I posit the question...has Alex spent the last 2-3 episodes doing nothing but applying eyeliner to his face in the dark? Because he absolutely has. And honestly, the vibe of being in a spooky haunted pyramid with barely any light, just applying eyeliner down the edge of your face...that’s a Yugioh vibe, if I ever saw one.

This arc is wild. Anyway, next episode we do even more fetch quests and riddles? Just going to guess now that we probably will.

(and for those new here, this is a link so you can read them from the top. Which, since we’re in S5, means you got like...hours of Yugioh content to read through. Enjoy the rewards of my weird hobby.)

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

#Yugioh #Yu-Gi-Oh #yami yugi #S5 #Ep20 #It's actually Ep 20 now I was wrong last time #Yugi muto #Grandpa Muto #Alexander the Great #Joey Wheeler #Tristan Taylor #Tea Gardner #TeaxYugi #never thought I would ever use that tag #in this show where they are canonically dating but sometimes it happens #Puzzles and Dragons #Because yes I had to talk about it. This collab is great

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itssuppertim3 · 3 years

Text

Share (Miraak x Remeir)

A sweet n' fluffy OC one shot for you, if I may

It was cold. And rainy. And wet.

Remeir and Miraak stood and observed the downpour, both pondering over their little predicament. In the spur of the storm, the two dragonborn took off towards the closest shelter they could find and luckily came upon an abandoned cave.

Miraak shook his head in dismay and grumbled an assortment of dovah curses. Remeir mustered a sigh before using a small flame spell to guide her way into the mouth of the cave. "This is just dreadful," Miraak muttered. "Dreadful, I say."

"Just get in here and help me start a fire before we both catch a cold," the redhead called back. Both of them were squatted down, a shivering mess. There were a few dried and burnable materials in her bag, such as paper, books she held no current interest in, and even unnecessary ingredients. The fire she managed to craft was a small one, yet durable. Luckily, her ebony armor deflected any rain from touching her clothes underneath. Her tall, atmoran companion was not so fortunate.

Miraak's robes were drenched and the worn fabric stuck to his skin like tree sap. She definitely didn't blame him for being as vexed as he was. "Don't glare at me with such remorse, Dragonborn," the man finally sighed. The quirky elf blew out a chuckle before rising to her feet. "I can dry your robes for you, if you want. I imagine it's not very comfy," she offered. Miraak inspected her extended hand and glanced at his outfit. "As long as you do not catch them on fire. I'm not in the mood for running around this land like a half-nude peasant." As serious and nonchalant as he was, Remeir bent over in a spew of laughter. "Oh, gods! How can someone as cold as you be so funny?! I could-- I could just picture you walking around like a damned caveman!" He clearly wasn't amused by the display in front of him.

In silent disgust, Miraak peeled off his top and threw it at his savior's face. "It's humiliating to be reminded that you were able to defeat me," he hissed. Still, she continued to chortle like an infant. Remeir was well-past her years of embarrassment. Over time, she gradually learned to ignore the opinions of others and lived the carefree life she always desired. That being said, most were so intimidated by her flamboyant personality that she was often avoided. She never failed to be amazed how Miraak had remained by her side for this long, now. Mara only knew almost every second with her had to be excruciating for him.

When the dunmer finally composed herself, she draped Miraak's robes above the fire and let the heat do its work. When she turned to face him, she had forgotten that his upper body was now completely and utterly bare. Saying that Remeir was unprepared for the sight in front of her was a massive understatement. As long as this woman had been breathing, she was more inexperienced with men than a fly was with a house! Besides the heavenly sound of his voice, she colored Miraak to have the body of one of the grey beards. That being said, she never failed to catch notice of the way his biceps swelled when lifting something heavy or how broad his shoulders grew when throwing his gear over his back. She knew he had a burly musculature. But this, this was something else entirely. Was that an eight-pack?!!

"Quit staring, you star-eyed oaf!" She switched back to reality when Miraak attempted to cover his front with his arms like an exposed woman. "My bad. Just trying to figure who the lucky lady you're trying to impress is," Rem stated bluntly before plopping down beside him. "Or~," she purred. "Could it be a seeker?" Miraak used his hand to push her face away. "You are outrageous," he grumbled. "Immature, little brat." Remeir ignored him and slid out her bedroll from her knapsack. As she started to unfold it, she glanced her companion's bag. "Is your stuff alright? It looks soaked."

"That's because it is. I cannot understand how I am the unlucky one in this situation. Other than those silly braids of yours, you along with all of your things are completely dry," he noted, fishing through his belongings. "Maybe it's because Lady Mara shines on my every step," she cooed. "Well, your Lady would sure be kind to shine a bit of light in my direction, as well." Sure enough, he retrieved a damp bedroll. "Oh, dear," she voiced. "Oh dear, indeed..." Miraak released a groan of annoyance and welcomed it on the cold floor. "Would you... like to share mine?"

A brief, uncertain silence was exchanged between the two. With Remeir's cheeks becoming the same pigment as her red strands, she started to frantic. "I-I mean, you probably won't like it since it'll be a tight squeeze. But it's better than sleeping on hard rock, right?" she clipped. Miraak took a moment to think it over. "Alright."

That night, Remeir was overwhelmed with all types of emotions. The soft glow of the campfire was able to ease her mind a tad, but viewing the large silhouette of Miraak's shadow flicker against the cave wall, it didn't do much help. She couldn't put her finger on it. It wasn't that she was afraid of him. His entire aura was just so overpowering to her. It was like sleeping next to a docile bear. The young elf stiffened after feeling his back press further into hers as he slept. He seemed awfully comfortable for someone who despised being even remotely close to another person.

He was so warm. She was surprised he produced so much body heat, which was the contrary to his icy persona. In all honesty, Remeir often admitted to herself that he was quite cute. He was strong, of course he was. He made made that clear whenever he was able, no matter the time nor place. But he was just so adorable! As her brain rambled on, Remeir neglected to notice him reposition himself on his other side to where his chest was firm against her back. She let out a tiny squeak in response. No longer was this man "adorable", he was flatout terrifying! "Miraak," she sounded. He was too deep in his slumber to reply.

When she attempted to wriggle some space between then, her actions were shot down upon feeling the sensation of Miraak's arms curling around the small of her form. Remeir's sanity was now dangling by a thread. He was so incredibly close to her in this moment, if his mask wasn't working as a barrier, he'd be kissing her neck! She nudged and squirmed and continued to make little attempts of stirring him from his unconscious oasis, but alas she ended up in failure each time.

"Zu'u los hin..."

The scrambled woman's breath had caught in her throat. She wasn't exceedingly fluent in Dovahzul like Miraak, but she was able to catch only his sleep-slurred words. "I am yours," he had said. What was that supposed to mean?? Rem prayed to every Aedra and Daedra that he wasn't dreaming of anything suggestive while holding her in such a way. Other than his odd choice of words and affectionate touch, he showed no signs of having any explicit intent.

Over the minutes, Remeir gradually released any pent-up tension she held and let herself become engulfed by the larger figure behind her. Miraak's legs softly entangled with her own and her heartbeat fell into the same rhythm as his. It was strange. She'd forgotten how safe it felt to be coddled by another person. She knew it wouldn't last, though she wished it would. Once he found out what he was doing, it would be the last time she would ever be caressed by him. That much upset her.

But little did the Last Dragonborn know, Miraak was awake the entire time.

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

God I literally love those two too much

#miraak #skyrim oc #elder scrolls #tesblr #dunmer #miraak x ldb #first dragonborn #one shot #fluff #dragon priest

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averykedavra · 4 years

Text

Ready As I’ll Ever Be

It’s late, here you go! Thanks to @becca-becky for the support and Remus jokes! I just needed some more happy Sides, and it kind of turned into hurt/comfort at the end, but I still like it! This fic is on Ao3 here!

Warnings: spoilers for the new ep!! And some nsfw-gore jokes typical of Remus.

Summary: After Roman and Virgil retreat to the common room to gush about Thomas’ new date, they have to confront both the other Sides and their growing worry. Because maybe they’re not ready for this, after all.

Words: 5596

It was quiet in the Mindscape when Roman and Virgil appeared. But not for long.

“--and maybe we should get him flowers, red ones, bring them to the first date--”

“We haven’t gotten a date yet,” Virgil reminded Roman, flopping onto the couch and pulling a pillow to his chest. “Well, a date for the date.”

Roman perched on the top of the couch and pouted. “He said he wanted to!”

“He said he wanted to,” Virgil agreed, his mouth twitching in a smile once again.

“So it’s as good as given!” Roman beamed, waving his hands in circles. “Besides, flowers don’t have to wait for a date!”

“What do you suggest,” Virgil asked, “toss them in his mailbox?”

Roman drew himself up. “Yes!”

“We don’t know where he lives!”

“We could find out!”

Virgil smirked. “Creepy.”

“Romantic!” Roman placed a hand on his chest in affronted indignation, but his smile was still wide. “You just don’t understand love. We place the roses--roses? Roses--the roses in his mailbox, along with a note of our undying affection--”

Virgil huffed and started tugging at the edge of the pillow to work out the bubbly energy in his hands. “Undying affection?”

“Yes! He has agreed to a date, and therefore we must woo him!”

“Sure.” Virgil tossed the pillow at Roman’s face. Roman batted it away with ease. “Look, Princey, I know glass houses and all, but you need to relax.”

“I am relaxed!” Roman screeched. “Perfectly relaxed!”

“Sure,” Virgil said again, grabbing another pillow and worrying it between his hands. Roman was rocking back and forth on the couch now, kicking his legs out, muttering something about “learning the language of flowers so he can convey the message that they are soulmates, bound by destiny.”

“Relax,” Virgil said again, his voice going softer than he intended. “He’ll like us anyway--actually, he’ll probably like Thomas more if he doesn’t send him flowers like a stalker.”

Roman threw back his head and glared at Virgil with no real anger. Virgil scrunched up his nose.

“I want to woo him,” Roman complained, crossing his arms petulantly and balancing even more precariously on the top of the couch.

“You don’t have to,” Virgil said.

“I want to!” Roman waved a hand in a complex motion. “Why would he buy what we’re selling if we don’t woo him? Where’s the fun? Why would he--if we’re not trying to impress him, what if he--”

“Hey.” Virgil sat up and gave Roman a little smile. “He’s--it’ll be okay. Don’t worry about it.”

Roman laughed. “You’re telling me--”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.” Virgil threw another pillow at Roman and realized he’d run out of pillows to fidget with. He settled for shifting his weight back and forth and shaking his fists.

“He’ll like us anyway,” Roman said, and Virgil hadn’t heard him sound like this ever since--ever since their ex wasn’t their ex. Soft and fragile and delicate and so...loving. “He likes us.”

“He likes us,” Virgil repeated, a smile spreading over his own face, unbidden. He’d never felt like this ever since their ex. Bubbly and shaky and popping at the edges like fireworks. Sparkles and rainbows and all sorts of stuff that was seriously not his brand. This shouldn’t be safe, this should be setting off every alarm he had, throwing him into panic.

Instead he was just smiling. Smiling like he’d never done anything else. Hands flapping and knees hitting each other and breathless in the best possible way.

Not love, of course. Not yet. But a chance at it.

A chance that Virgil hoped they’d take.

“He likes us, Virgil!” Roman squealed, falling over the back of the couch to land in a pile on the one remaining cushion. He adjusted his sash and let his head droop to the floor, giving Virgil an upside-down smile. “He’s so cute, and nice, and funny, and smart--”

“And supportive,” Virgil added despite himself. “Thought it was cool that Thomas makes videos--”

“His song! The one he showed Thomas!” Roman placed a hand on his heart and sighed. “Pure music.”

Virgil blushed harder. “U-um. You know what--we could probably--duets. We could--”

“Oh my flipping goodness.” Roman’s eyes somehow widened even further. “Oh my hecking heck, by the alluring song of the seductive siren, Virgil, we could do duets with him.”

“We could!” Virgil grinned wildly. “We could sing--sing from--”

His words were getting jumbled. He shook his hands more and bobbed his head, trying to settle all the bubbly feelings. Too many thoughts, and not in the usual overwhelming way--like they were all clamoring for attention and squeezing into every space in his brain. He couldn’t stop thinking, remembering Nico’s smile and twinkling eyes and the exact cadence of his voice. He couldn’t stop beaming.

“Sing from what?” Roman asked when Virgil’s dissolved into a few hums and silence.

“Nightmare Before Christmas,” Virgil said. “You know--”

Roman gasped and Virgil swore he saw stars in his eyes. “Oh my goodness! Thomas and Nico need to do that right now, immediately.”

“I know,” Virgil said, “right?”

“I know,” Roman said, “right?”

They were quiet for a few seconds, grinning at each other, then Roman chuckled and Virgil snickered and they dissolved into giggles. Virgil rocked back and forth, cupping his mouth. Roman did a whole-body shimmy that made him slip further off the couch.

“You look ridiculous,” Virgil managed between snickers.

“How dare you.” Roman stuck out his tongue and tried to maneuver himself back onto the couch, only managing to hit his head on the ground. Virgil laughed even harder and Roman laughed too, sash rumpled and eyes wide, looking at Virgil like Virgil was the reason he looked so happy. Like Virgil had done something right.

Well, Virgil had. Apparently.

He’d made this happen.

He’d put this smile on Roman’s face.

How was he supposed to calm down and stop laughing when he’d done that?

“Nico,” Roman sang, riffing so much it ran through two or three octaves. “Nico, Nico, Nico Flores.”

“Composing a ballad for the occasion?”

“As a matter of fact, yes!” Roman wrinkled his nose. “Nothing rhymes with Flores.”

“Bores.” Virgil leaned back and rested his head on the arm of the couch, still shaking his hands out. “Snores.”

“No, no, it’s Flor-es.”

“Snore-es.”

“He’s not a snore!” Roman retorted. “He’s--he’s perfect.”

“Nah, nobody’s perfect.” Virgil sighed in a sickeningly sappy way. “He’s ours, though.”

“He’s ours,” Roman agreed.

For a second, there was blissful silence, save for Virgil’s happy hums.

“Nico,” Roman sang again, this time sliding up and down the scale. “Nicoooo--”

“Stop,” Virgil said, not really caring too much but feeling he should try and be a little cynical and bitter to offset all the soppiness. Roman stopped immediately. “At least have a tune,” Virgil amended.

“Nico,” Roman sang to the tune of Can You Feel The Love Tonight. “Nico, oh lovely Nico, light of my life, my eternal soul--”

“Please tell me you won’t actually sing this to him.”

“I promise nothing.” Roman waved his hands around more energetically. “Nico, dearest Nico, lovely one--”

“Doesn’t have a tune anymore,” Virgil said, grinning. “You lost it.”

“I’m improvising, Dull Out Boy.” Roman snickered. “Nico, you’re very cool, would you like to come to France--”

“We can’t go to France--”

“But picture it!“ Roman spread his hands. “Soft candlelight, the starry skies over the city, the rush of cars below as the wind whips our hair, a scrumptious meal spread over the tablecloth, his eyes shining as we eat atop the Eiffel Tower--”

“Whoa, hold on, what?” Virgil waved his hands. “You can’t eat on top of the--plus that’s like really high up--”

“Fine, then, we’ll just be looking at the Eiffel Tower.” Roman pulled his hands to his chest and squealed. “Nico though!”

“Nico though,” Virgil agreed. “You’re a sap.”

“You’re a sap.”

“I’m not.” Virgil felt a need to defend himself. ��We’re all wired up ‘cause of this. We’re parts of Thomas.”

“True.” Roman laughed. “I bet Specs is completely fine, though.”

“Why?” Virgil asked.

“Well, you know, he’s--” Roman looked more uncomfortable with every word. He petered out with a weak wave of his hands.

“I’m Anxiety and I’m head over heels,” Virgil said. “He’s probably a mess just like you and me.”

“You’re head over heels?” Roman asked, grinning even wider.

“What--” Virgil spluttered. “I mean--yeah, I thought it was obvious--Thomas is--”

“And you’re--” Roman wriggled closer. “You like him.”

“Yeah, duh?”

“You like him!” Roman laughed triumphantly. “I knew it!”

Virgil snickered. “You agreeing with me isn’t, like, a win for you,”

“You like him!” Roman repeated once more. “You don’t like anyone! And you--you like him!”

“Um, yeah.” Virgil flushed and rubbed at the back of his neck. “He’s, um--pretty cool.”

“You’re such a softie,” Roman said, shaking his head.

“Roman,” Virgil complained.

“Oh, was that--” Roman’s smile fell. “I didn’t mean to--was that the wrong thing to say?”

“I--” Virgil jerked upright. “No. Dude. I’m acting silly over this guy. It--it’s fine.”

And, he realized, it kind of was. Just for today. Virgil was a bit soft today, and only Roman could see, and that was alright for now. Virgil was riding high, over the moon, every stupid metaphor in the book. Virgil’s guard was all the way down.

He’d regret this later. Obviously. But hindsight was 20/20 and right now he was enjoying the moment.

“I like him,” Virgil said, blushing but keeping his chin up. “It’s fine.”

“Yeah,” Roman said, smiling back. “So do I.”

“I’ve heard.”

“Hey!” Roman rolled his eyes. “You’re just mad because my song moved you to tears.”

“Tears of laughter, yeah.” Virgil grinned. “Ask Logan for help, he’s better with the rhymes.”

“He’d mock me!” Roman complained. “He wouldn’t understand the love behind every word!”

“Hey, like I said, we’re all sunny and whatnot.” Virgil shrugged. “It’s probably your best chance, if I’m being honest.”

Roman tapped his chin. “No time like the present, right?”

“What?” Virgil’s eyes widened. “I dunno if that’s a good--”

“Specs!” Roman called, waving a hand. “Get in here, we need your help!”

Virgil scrambled into a sitting position and tucked his hands under his legs. Just in time. Logan rose up next to the stairs, notebook in hand, a pen tucked behind his ear and his tie slightly lopsided. His hair was fluffed up a bit around his forehead and he rubbed at his eyes as he turned around to blink at Roman and Virgil.

“Sup,” Virgil said, feeling suddenly a lot less confident. He betted his eyeshadow had gone back to black.

“Specs!” Roman cried, grinning. “Why, hello!”

“What do you need?” Logan asked, folding his notebook to his chest and giving Roman a cool glare. “I’m busy.”

“I need your help!”

“You--” Logan looked taken aback for a second. “With what?”

Roman spread his arms. “Words!”

“Could you be more specific?”

“Words for our precious prince!” Roman paused. “Not me, but, you know, him. Well, me too, since I’m making the words, they’re just not addressed to me--”

Logan blinked. “What are you talking about it?”

“Oh, he doesn’t--” Roman jumped up and waved his hands. “So! Specs, you’re seriously not gonna believe this--”

“Let me tell it,” Virgil interrupted. “So, we were at the mall--”

“--there was this guy, and he was a ten out of ten--no, eleven or twelve, beyond numbers--”

“--Thomas was being an idiot like usual--”

“--fake with a plastic plant--”

“--guy came out of the bathroom stall--”

“--carrots are still vile and villainous--”

“--and I encouraged his stupidity for some reason--”

“--and now we have a date!”

Logan didn’t look enlightened by their frantic explanation, probably because they were talking over each other excitedly, Virgil starting to flap again and Roman bouncing on his heels.

“Date!” Roman squealed. “Date, Logan. His name’s Nico and he’s so wonderful and--”

“You realize I know all this?” Logan said slowly. “I’m also a part of Thomas.”

“Oh.” Roman stared at Logan. “Oh, right.”

“But you’re not--” Virgil didn’t know how to explain it. Logan looked normal. Kind of pissy, actually. Not like he’d been affected at all--well, maybe Roman was right. Maybe Logic wasn’t affected. He’d been affected with Thomas’ ex, though--did that mean their attraction to Nico wasn’t as full--did that mean there was something wrong--

C’mon, Virgil. In and out. This wasn’t worry time. Not yet.

“Aren’t you excited?” Roman finished. “We have a date!”

“You seem to be covering the excited portion of things,” Logan said cooly. “Besides, it’s not like we haven’t been here before.”

“He’s so cool though!” Roman burst out, rocking on the balls of his feet. “And smart, and he writes poetry, I know you’d appreciate that--”

“I know--” Logan tensed a bit. “Poetry?”

“Poetry!” Roman squealed, doing a little twirl on the carpet. “Poetry, Specs, he’s a poet!”

“Huh.” Logan coughed a bit, and Virgil saw a bit of red on his cheeks. “Well, I--didn’t notice that part. That’s--adequate, I suppose.”

“Way more than adequate!” Roman spun again, arms wide. “Spiffing and spectacular and supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!”

"Whatever you say.” Logan backed towards the door. “I still am busy, though, so if you’ll excuse me--”

“No, come on, celebrate with us!” Roman darted forward and grabbed Logan’s arm. “You can’t seriously say you’re not happy for Thomas!”

“Of course I’m not,” Logan said, removing Roman’s hand from his sleeve. “I don’t feel happiness.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, but love.” Roman batted his eyes. “True love. How can you scorn it?”

“We’ve known him for less than a day.”

“A wondrous day! Calooh calay!” Roman spun back over to Virgil. “Emo Nightmare knows what I mean.”

“He does?” Logan blinked at Virgil as if registering him for the first time. That made sense. Roman was good at stealing the spotlight. Virgil squirmed under Logan’s gaze, giving him a little salute. “I would assume you were nervous.”

“Well, now that you say it--” Virgil huffed and leaned back into the couch. “This is--cool. He’s--cool. I don’t mind.”

“Huh,” Logan said again.

“See, even our favorite gloomy goober is on board!” Roman clasped his hands in front of his chest. “Please, Specs, can’t you give us your seal of approval?”

“I cannot give you a seal,” Logan said, “surely you could summon one if it was necessary--”

“Wrong seal.” Roman pursed his lips and widened his eyes. “Pretty please?”

Logan’s mouth curled into an incredulous wince. “Don’t. Please don’t do that. Ever again.”

“Aww.”

“Look, I don’t see why you need me to condone any of this,” Logan said, waving a hand. “It’s already happened. You both seem excited. Logic plays no role in these proceedings. It’s clear that my endorsement of this would mean absolutely nothing.”

“To Thomas, maybe,” Virgil said, working up the nerve to address the wrongness he felt welling up. “To us, though--”

“It’d mean we’re doing the right thing,” Roman finished, his voice quiet. “You’re the smart one, right? You’d know if this was--a mistake.”

“Oh,” Logan said softly. “Oh, I see.”

Virgil pulled at his sleeve, avoiding Logan’s gaze.

“So,” Roman said, the word drawn out and fragile. “What do you think of him?”

Logan took a deep breath. “I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”

Virgil’s hands twisted tighter around his sleeve.

“You already know that I believe Thomas has far too many acquaintances,” Logan continued, looking like he hated every word that came out of his mouth. “A new romantic relationship, despite being the end goal of some humans, would distract him even more. Not only with time spent, but also with emotional capacity.”

Roman frowned. “Yeah, but--”

“It will make my job ten times harder,” Logan said, starting to pace back and forth. “Logic will be figuratively overwhelmed by hormones and feelings, and schedules will be harder to maintain. And what if he affects our future goals? We have a solid career and this could jeopardize it, as a public figure an ill-advised relationship could have serious consequences--”

“Lo?” Virgil asked.

“And don’t get me started on the--ugh--emotional ramifications.” Logan ran his hand through his hair. “Are we ready for a relationship at this scale? What if we aren’t compatible? Most relationships do not last forever, and we would have to navigate yet another heartbreak, which would send Patton into turmoil and once again rob me of any sort of control. With Thomas as fragile as he is, emotionally, it’s a loaded choice to dive into another situation that could make or break his self-esteem--”

“Logan!”

Logan jerked his head up. Roman’s eyes were wide and he’d stopped bouncing.

“I--” Logan took a breath and smoothed his tie. “Apologies. I seem to have--upset you.”

“Don’t,” Virgil said. “I’ve been thinking all that stuff too. It’s fine.”

“And that’s not what I asked,” Roman said. “I asked what you think of him.”

“Him?”

“Nico.”

“Nico,” Logan repeated, and Virgil swore he heard a dip in Logan’s voice. “Nico, he’s--he seems like an upstanding citizen and a good fit for Thomas.”

“Boring,” Roman teased. “Try again.”

“He’s--he’s financially stable to a degree--”

“Try again.”

Logan groaned and rubbed his nose. “Roman, you’re being insufferable--”

“I want to know what you think,” Roman said, his voice achingly soft. “Not Nico’s Pokemon stats.”

“Nerd,” Virgil mumbled.

“Punk,” Roman fired back.

“He’s--” Logan took one more shaky breath, drawing Virgil and Roman’s attention again. “He’s a poet.”

“Yeah,” Roman agreed, a smile poking at his lips.

“He understands music theory,” Logan said, his voice stronger. He tapped his foot on the ground. “He held up an entire conversation about lyrics and diction, and he clearly understands the subtleties of creating an effective song.”

“Yeah,” Virgil said, grinning. “And he let Thomas talk--”

“He let Thomas talk!” Logan agreed. His hand was tapping in time with his foot now. “Even when Thomas was incorrect, he was kind about it, and Thomas was able to teach him things too--he said Thomas was smart--”

“He said Thomas was smart!” Roman gushed, fists balled under his chin.

“He’s smart!” Logan burst out, eyes wide and his hands flying. “He’s smart and he’s capable and he has all sorts of knowledge and we could learn things from him, so many things, and he’d let us--”

Logan trailed off with a wild squeak and a shimmy of his fists, pretty close to Roman’s bouncing. He was flushed, eyes sparkling, and the corners of his lips were definitely turned up. Logan was smiling. Just a bit. And that made every doubt in Virgil’s stomach disappear.

“You like him,” Virgil breathed, because he had to make sure.

“I--” Logan looked self-conscious. “Yes. I like him a lot.”

“Specs approves!” Roman declared, rushing up and grabbing Logan’s hands, pulling him in a circle. “Today is indeed a glorious day--oh, did you see part of his song--”

“The lyrics were extremely well-crafted,” Logan agreed, his voice brighter than Virgil had heard in weeks, his smile growing wider as Roman spun him around and around.

“You like him!” Roman gasped, beaming. “You like him, Specs--”

“Yes!” Logan burst out, and his smile turned into a grin. “Yes, I do, he’s wonderful--”

“He’s wonderful!” Roman echoed, still pulling Logan around the room in a makeshift dance. Logan allowed himself to be led, giggling under his breath, hair falling over his forehead and eyes shining.

“We did it, guys,” Virgil couldn’t help but say, shaking his fists once again. “We did it, we did it--we have a date--”

“A date, and all thanks to you!” Roman swept over and offered a hand. Virgil took it hesitantly and Roman tugged him gently to the middle of the living room. No twirling, but Roman’s huge smile made Virgil just as breathless as if he’d been tugged around. “A date, a date, oh, I’m so excited--”

“I didn’t do much,” Virgil protested, grinning.

“Didn’t do much?” Roman repeated as if Virgil had insulted another Disney movie. “You did everything!”

“There was a problem, and you solved it.” Logan leaned over to Virgil and squeezed his hand, and if pressed, Virgil would never admit how his eyeshadow deepened. “Thank you, Virgil.”

“He’s so flustered!” Roman teased, and Virgil stuck out his tongue and pressed closer to Logan’s side.

“Your eyeshadow,” Logan murmured. “Virgil, it’s--”

“Sparkly? Yeah.” Virgil bit his lip. “You know. Tingly feeling after achieving something you didn’t believe was possible.”

“It looks heavenly on you!” Roman clapped his hands. “Now I want some sparkly makeup, hold on--”

“Focus, Roman,” Logan said fondly.

“Focus on what?”

“I don’t know, whatever you wanted from me originally?”

“Which was--” Roman blinked several times and stuck out his tongue in concentration. “Hmm.”

“Heh.” Virgil elbowed him. “Poetry?”

“Poetry!” Roman twirled. “My good nerd, you understand the need for an epic aria to commemorate this day, correct?”

“I--” Logan raised his eyebrows. “What?”

“And I’m struggling with the rhymes and the reasons.” Roman clasped Logan’s hands to his chest. “I beseech thee, provide me with words that do justice to his wonder!”

“Effervescent,” Logan said automatically. “Vivacious. Pulchritudinous.”

“I have no idea how to rhyme any of those, but it’s a start!” Roman pulled Logan to the couch and tossed himself onto one end. Logan sat at the other end, kicking up a leg on the armrest and already scribbling in his notebook. Virgil took his time sitting on the floor next to them, enjoying just seeing his idiots getting along, swapping rhymes and smiling widely and already spreading bits of paper on the floor.

It was freaking awesome.

So of course it couldn’t last.

In the middle of a long monologue from Logan about the pros and cons of using iambic pentameter, which both Virgil and Roman were dutifully listening to, a bloody heart sailed through the air and smacked Roman in the face.

“Ew!” Roman cried, wiping blood off his cheek. “That’s vile, Remus!”

“You were looking for metaphors, right?” Remus appeared next to Virgil with a manic grin on his face and a notable cavity where his heart should be. “Thomas would tear out his heart for him.”

“Put it back in,” Roman pleaded, shoving the heart at Remus and covering his eyes. “Put it back in.”

“Wow, Ro, you really don’t understand love.” Remus reluctantly popped the heart into his chest, and with a sickening squelch, the skin grew back. “It was beautiful and poetic and you’re sleeping on it.”

“Just because a metaphor would work well in-poem doesn’t mean it fits literally,” Logan said. “What are you doing here?”

“Yeah, we’re busy,” Virgil said, hunching up his shoulders. “I don’t have time for your stupid attention games today.”

“Rude!” Remus complained, scrunching up his nose. “This is a special occasion, calm your tits.”

“A special what now?” Virgil groaned. “Oh no, did you stab Patton again?”

“No, you’d hear the screams.” Remus shimmied. “Thomas has a boyf!”

“They are not officially partners,” Logan corrected.

“Eh, bullsh*t.” Remus waved a hand and flopped onto the carpet, kicking a leg in the air. “Thomas is head over heels over d*ck, googoo gaga googly eyes, a small chicken in the woodchipper of love.”

Virgil winced. “The what now--”

“Which means they’re as good as f*cking!” Remus grinned. “Which means we gotta celebrate!”

“Oh, no.” Roman stared at Remus in abject horror. “You’re--don’t you dare start talking about Nico like--like--”

“Like what?” Remus put on an innocent face that fooled nobody. “All I’m saying is, I’d main him in Super Smash Bros--”

“Nope.” Virgil waved his hands in front of his face and squeezed his eyes shut. “Nope, nope, nope--”

“We’re done here,” Roman announced. “We are done here.”

Logan just sighed.

“Guys, c’mon, we were all thinking it!” Remus rolled his eyes. “He’s a hottie, a hunk, a piece of meat, and I would commit murder for him!”

“Please don’t,” Logan said.

“I would!” Remus sat up and stared at them intently. “I would cut a million throats and watch the blood pool from the bodies if it made him smile. Okay? Okay.”

“You’d do that anyway,” Virgil pointed out.

“It’s different!” Remus folded his arms. “You don’t get it. But I would--I would drive a tractor into a wall for him. I would jump out of a moving car.”

Roman shook his head. “I fail to see how this is different than your usual modus operandi.”

“Because him!” Remus waved wildly at everything. “Him! He’s all, you know--yeah!”

“Yeah,” Virgil agreed reluctantly.

“Yeah,” Logan sighed.

“Yeah!” Roman squealed.

“All I’m saying is,” Remus said, doing another full-body shimmy that made his frills wiggle, “he’s cute, okay? He’s cute. And I would die for him.”

“Then perish,” Virgil said, because he had to.

“He is cute,” Roman said slowly, like he’d just realized Remus was speaking English.

“He is cute!” Remus squealed. “He’s all--and you know--and--”

Then he screeched. A full-blown foghorn wail. Virgil clapped his hands over his ears and Logan scrambled back instinctively. Remus wasn’t fazed. He vibrated up and down and squealed long and loud, eyes squeezed shut, hands in the air. It barely dipped in register and volume, and Virgil wondered if Remus needed to breathe. Wait, of course he didn’t. Which meant he could do this as long as he liked.

And it was really loud, and it was also--kind of--sweet?

Virgil cracked both his eyes open. Remus was still wiggling and squealing and a smile was threatening to burst off his face. Logan was rolling his eyes but giving Remus an indulgent smile. And Roman was looking at Remus with wide eyes, but not the usual ew-Remus-wtf eyes. And Roman was smiling, too.

And Roman squealed.

Roman squealed just as loud as Remus and managing to hit an even higher note. His hands came up and shook in front of his face, and he squealed.

Remus blinked and looked almost shocked, before his smile grew somehow even wider. And they both squealed. It was so loud and should have put Virgil so far on edge that he’d be falling off it.

And yeah, it was loud. Earsplitting, in fact. But not really that bad. Actually, it was kind of nice to see them smiling. Squealing. Vibrating at the speed of light and filling the room with happy noises.

Logan caught Virgil’s eye and shrugged. Virgil shrugged back, half-smiling.

Slowly, the squealing morphed into words. Garbled, choppy words, but words regardless.

“He’s--cute--I can’t handle--” Roman waved his hands wildly. “Cute! Pretty! I wanna--sweet--him!”

Remus nodded so much that he looked like a bobblehead doll. “Cute good very nice.”

“Very very nice!”

“Cute!”

“Cute,” Virgil added, grinning.

He got a double serving of bright smiles for that. Logan was chuckling to himself, watching Remus and Roman rock back and forth and seemingly communicate through singular words, hand motions, and occasional squeals. Virgil flapped along in rhythm and got another few glittering smiles, and Logan scribbled in his notebook, chewing on the top of the pen and even giving a few encouraging murmurs when Remus and Roman paused in their squealing.

Then footsteps.

Patton dashed into the room, Janus at his heels. “I heard screaming?”

Both Logan and Roman looked like they’d been hit in the face with a pan. Virgil probably looked the same. Remus grinned and waved, but even his hand fell to the ground soon enough.

Dead silence. For an achingly long time, so long that Virgil considered just ducking out. He settled for worrying the laces of his hoodie and staring at his sneakers.

“We were--” Logan opened his mouth, closed it, and swallowed. “There’s no cause for alarm. Roman and Remus were simply excited--”

“Date!” Remus yelled, jumping up and practically tackling Janus. “Date, Janny, and he’s a hottie--”

“Yes, do suffocate me, I didn’t have anything planned.” Janus pried Remus off with a grin. “Congratulations on your boy toy.”

“You helped!” Remus pointed out.

“Hardly,” Janus said, but Virgil knew him well enough to see the proud edge to his smile. “Virgil and Roman clearly had everything under control.”

“Hey,” Roman grumbled.

“He’s so cute!” Remus squealed.

“He’s dreamy,” Patton agreed, sighing.

“He’s certainly--” Janus coughed, his face red and scales gleaming. “He’s. Um.”

“Don’t hide it,” Remus teased, bumping Janus in the shoulder. “We all see your hands flapping.”

Janus looked down at his extra hands, which were twisting in several patterns and shaking around his sides. “Ah. Well--”

“It’s cute,” Patton gushed, doing a twirl and flap of his own. “Everyone’s happy, it’s okay--”

Janus glanced at Roman--and Logan, still silent on the couch--and Virgil, who looked away. His eyebrows pulled together.

“Well, I’ll certainly stick around for the aftermath,” Janus said, stepping away delicately and giving them all one last loaded look. “Have fun, and congratulations.”

“Jan,” Patton said, speaking up for the first time and grabbing his elbow. Janus turned to look at him and they seemed to have a whole conversation with just their eyes. Virgil’s stomach twisted at the sight--they knew each other so well now, and it had only been weeks, weeks of Patton and Janus getting close and Virgil skirting at the edges of their happiness, weeks of being alone--

The happiness in Virgil’s chest flickered and faded.

“It’s good news,” Logan said, and everyone jerked around to look at him. His hands were folded in his lap, but his voice was strong. “We should all celebrate.”

“Sure,” Roman said, an edge to his words, “doesn’t mean we have to do it all together--”

“We’re all parts of Thomas,” Logan said quietly. “We all helped make this happen.”

Roman let out a long sigh.

“Only if you’re comfortable,” Logan added, his eyes skimming over Patton and Janus and resting on Virgil. Virgil squirmed under the eye contact, his hands flying over his sleeves, mind racing.

No. He didn’t want them there. He was celebrating and things would just get weird.

He’d thought that about Remus too, though.

“Do what you want,” Roman said, his voice defeated but just a bit soft. “It’s a big day. I get it.”

Janus swallowed. “I don’t want to--”

“Special occasion, right?” Roman rubbed at his arm. “And you did--try to help. With all those...lies. And I don’t like them. But--like Logan said. You tried to help. And now we have a date, and...it’s only fair that you get to stay.”

“Fair,” Janus repeated, an unspoken question hanging off it.

“Yeah.” Roman looked up, his eyes firm. “You’re a part of Thomas, and for today, let’s--put off all the overthinking?”

Janus pressed his lips together, and for a moment of a second, something soft flashed in his eyes.

“Sounds like a plan,” he said, his face smoothing over.

“Both of you,” Roman added, his voice stretching even thinner as his eyes flickered over to Patton. “That--goes for both of you.”

Patton stared at Roman, eyes wide, hand pressed to his mouth.

“We’re celebrating,” Roman said, waving his hands in something that didn’t really seem all that celebratory. “I’m not going to ruin the moment.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Logan said, giving Roman a loaded look. “Again, if you’re truly uncomfortable with this--”

“I’m ready if you’re ready.” Roman took a deep breath and looked at Virgil, a smile flickering at the edge of his mouth. “Are we ready?”

Virgil swallowed.

Patton and Janus were staring at him, Patton’s expression achingly soft, achingly hesitant. Janus was more guarded, but Virgil could see the hesitance there--he knew Janus so well. And Virgil had changed, and so had Janus, but if they’d managed it once upon a time, that meant they weren’t completely screwed now.

And Patton. Patton, who was practically glowing, freckles on fire and eyes bright. He liked this guy. Of course he did. He was Thomas’ heart--and once again, Patton was falling. Who would Virgil be to leave him stranded? To not catch him, to not steady him, to not pick up the pieces.

And Logan. Logan was smiling a bit, giving Virgil a reassuring look. So supportive. Logan would support Thomas all the way, and Logan would make sure things worked out, and Logan would be their anchor in the storm. Virgil trusted Logan more than he’d trusted anyone in his life.

And Remus. Grinning, bouncing, hanging off Janus’ arm.

And Roman. Smile slowly returning.

Virgil had messed up so many times, and so had they. And here was another chance to do things right. Another chance at happiness.

Sure, it might crash and burn, but that was a worry for later.

“I’m ready,” Virgil said, and found he meant it.

“We can be ready,” Patton agreed, smiling. “If we try.”

And Virgil would try, again and again and again. He’d throw himself into danger and throw Thomas into danger. He’d take every leap and chance and opportunity. He’d fight the world for them--and of course their love needed work, it was rough around the edges and thin in the middles, but it was still good. Still worth another shot.

“Party time?” Roman asked.

“Party time,” Remus agreed.

And that night, gathered around the kitchen table with old streamers and a makeshift pie, almost nobody argued. Almost nobody fought. Janus and Virgil exchanged nods, Janus and Roman kept their distance, and Logan and Patton cooked together, bumping shoulders and smiling.

Not perfect. Not real. Not everything Virgil could dream of. Not yet.

The world was wide open, though, and one day this could be more than his fantasies.

It was a new beginning, and Virgil, for once, wasn’t afraid.

Taglist:

@the17thmeatball

@most-likely-fandom

@csi-baker-street-babes

@caffeinated-cryptid

@thefivecalls

@ollyollyoxinfree

@the-gay-is-back

@dramaticsnakes

@stoicpanther

@chaospersonified

#sanders sides #remus sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #averywrites #ts spoilers

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fific7 · 3 years

Text

Dangerous and Divine - Part 5

Billy Russo x Reader

Summary: Billy Russo is an itch you don’t want to scratch. But he’s all over you like a rash.

A/N: This does not follow canon except for a few random points mentioned this time. It’s mainly fluff, lemon zest 🍋 and a bit of angst. There’s also some Billy POV in there. The GIF is from Exposed, unreleased pilot show in case you’re wondering 😌... Billy vibes.

Warnings: Some drinking & swearing.

(My GIF)

A grin curved his lips upwards, “How d’you like your eggs in the mornin’, ma’am?”

“Over easy,” you grinned back. He tapped his shoulder a couple of times with the kitchen spoon, “Ummm.. how about scrambled? And then I’ll give you the “over easy” version afterwards.”

That damn smirk of his, you thought, it’s downright dangerous.

The two of you were sitting at your kitchen island, eating breakfast. The scrambled eggs were really tasty, you complimented him. He’d preened a little, “I’m quite a good cook, sweetheart,” he said, “learned how to look after myself quite early on in life.”

Suddenly he put his fork down, and looked over at you. His face was serious, and you saw some sadness in his eyes. “My mother abandoned me when I was a really young kid. She was a junkie, and couldn’t look after herself never mind me, so I suppose I should thank her. I’d probably be dead otherwise. Got put in a group home, stayed there until I aged out and went straight into the Marines. And got my degree on the government’s dime.”

Your hand moved to cover his, “Billy, you’ve done so well, and you’ve achieved it all on your own. I’m proud of you, and I hope you’re proud of yourself too.” He beamed at you, eyes crinkling at the corners, “Yeah... yeah, I am. Thanks, angel, I appreciate you sayin’ that. I wanted to tell you about it, wanted to be honest with you. In case when you saw the suits, the car, the penthouse and all, you thought I was some kind of privileged trust fund kid.”

He looked down, “There’s a stigma about growin’ up in the system, y’know? I wanted to get it out on the table so you know who I really am and where I came from.”

“I don’t care about that, Billy.” He nodded, thumb stroking your hand which was still on top of his. “I really hoped that you wouldn’t ... but I wanted to be sure, and I’m really glad you feel like that. Also I needed you to know that I’m bein’ honest with you.”

You thought you saw a closed-off look on his face for a moment, but then it was gone and he smiled over at you.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You had spent the rest of Sunday together, lazing around, watching various shows on Netflix before venturing out for a late lunch to a local diner. Billy had eventually headed home after another steamy session in the bedroom, regretful about not spending the night, sighing that he had a really early start in the morning, a ‘job’ he couldn’t tell you anything about.

He’d explained a bit more about his work earlier in the day while you were eating in the diner. How a lot of it was classified as it was military or political in nature, so he couldn’t go into detail. You’d nodded, and said you understood. But you’d asked some questions nevertheless; how many of the assignments did he go on himself, just how dangerous they were, had he or his men ever been injured.

You got the impression that, although he couldn’t tell you much about who was involved or why they needed protection details, he was pleased you were showing an interest in his work.

The two of you agreed that you’d meet up during the week, Billy saying he’d text you to confirm when and where as he wasn’t sure how long this job would last, maybe at least a couple of days.

He’d insisted on putting his numbers into your phone himself, so you’d unlocked it and handed it to him, wandering back to your bedroom to put some more clothes on. Shortly afterwards he’d kissed you long and hard and made his way downstairs to his car, and you’d watched from your balcony as he drove away. Then you’d laughed at yourself - you were acting like some medieval damsel watching her knight disappear off to war or something.

Sliding the glass door closed, you went to the fridge to pull out a bottle of wine. The apartment suddenly felt very empty without Billy in it. How quickly you’d got used to him being there.

You wandered across to the sofa with your newly-poured glass of wine, noticing your phone on the coffee table. Oh yeah, Billy had added his numbers. A sudden twinge of insecurity hit you. What if he hadn’t actually put his direct numbers in there, and just pretended to? You sat down, looking at it lying there. I mean, it wasn’t like you couldn’t track him down at Anvil, but you would no doubt have to go through a receptionist and you could be endlessly stone-walled.

You eventually picked up the phone and unlocked it. Scrolling to your contacts, you suddenly burst out laughing. Billy had put his numbers in there and had also taken a selfie, him smouldering into the camera. He’d attached it to the contact details with a description.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy drove away from her apartment, truly wishing he could’ve stayed over again.

But then he’d shaken his head slightly, laughing to himself; she’d definitely got one thing right - he was a big sap. Since when did he find himself almost playing house with a woman? Telling her she was his girlfriend - as she’d put it - after five minutes? He was a one-and-done kinda guy!

But then Billy Russo admitted to himself that something had hit him smack in the heart when he’d first seen her, sitting there looking stunning and somehow fragile with that creep trying to come onto her. Well turns out she wasn’t fragile in the least! However when those beautiful eyes had met his... well, he was a goner. Solid gone. And then he’d pursued her like a lovestruck idiot.

He hadn’t ever seriously thought about love. Or believed in it, for that matter. Certainly not when he’d been bedding all those women when he’d been on leave or since he’d left the Marines. All that shit just wasn’t for him. And now? Yeah, not so sure.

Billy almost felt like he was under some kind of spell, it had hit him so quickly. Yeah, like she’d enchanted him or something ridiculous, straight out of a Disney or Harry Potter movie. Was this love, then? His stomach clenched every time he saw her, he just couldn’t stop thinking about her, wanted to be with her all the time, hell he was even jealous of Jake though he wasn’t a threat. Was he? No, surely not. And what about Steve, the other one? Yeah, there he was doing it again - unreasonable jealousy.

And when they’d first slept together, he felt like he’d finally understood what making love meant.

Billy Russo, who until a few days ago had spent most of his leisure time in life actively fucking women - how he’d always described it to himself and others - was now a confirmed big sap. He chuckled to himself.

He suddenly remembered ripping the shit out of a young Marine in his squad who’d come back off leave totally besotted with some girl. The kid had confessed (stupid move) to all the guys that they’d made love, a distant and dreamy look in his eyes. At the time, Billy had scoffed at him and endlessly humiliated him about it. In an affectionate way of course, he told himself.

But he felt guilty about that. Who’s the one with the distant and dreamy gaze now, Russo?

In all truth, Billy felt like he was having some kind of out of body experience. As if Previous Billy Russo was looking down in horror at his new self, yelling at him to get his fucking head back on straight. But New Billy Russo wasn’t listening because, well because he realised he liked feeling this way.

And he thought that she felt the same. He knew she was fighting it and wouldn’t admit anything to him, but there were little tells that had given her away. He decided he’d stay on his best behaviour, just keep trying to win her over, and he felt in his bones that they would be together.

But he did feel a sting of guilt. He had been honest with her, but he’d also been selective with what he’d told her about Anvil, how it all started, and this ongoing shit he and Frank were still embroiled in. One day... one day, and hopefully soon, he could tell her absolutely everything.

His phone, clipped to the dash, vibrated.

He rolled his eyes when he saw the caller ID, hit the button and answered it.

“Dinah... what can I do for you?”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You, meanwhile, had just finished your second glass of wine and were admitting to yourself that you were really missing Billy. Oh this is bad, your brain yelled at you, very bad. You’d only known this guy for a few days and you were falling for him. Or - okay - had already fallen for him. It scared you, quite honestly.

He was charming, funny, handsome, sexy. An amazing lover. He’d been disarmingly honest with you about his past, but... but what? Why was there a ‘but’? Because there was something niggling at the back of your mind. Just a couple of expressions you’d seen on his face, quickly gone. An indication of more happening just underneath the surface than you knew about. Billy had a distinct air of danger about him, and you wondered what else was going on inside that dark head of his.

You’d fallen for him, yes... but you were also going to remain wary of him, until you were certain you knew everything you could about him.

Reaching over and pulling your laptop towards you across the coffee table, you typed Billy’s name into Google.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The next morning, Billy parked his car and walked into Anvil. His reception staff wished him a respectful Good Morning, he nodded to them and headed upstairs to his office. Frank was already there, reading a newspaper.

“Mornin’ Bill,” he said, looking up. “Frankie,” nodded Billy, “want a coffee?” and kept on walking towards the coffee machine in the corner. “Nah, just had one, thanks.”

He poured out an Americano for himself, then chuckled loudly. Frank quirked an eyebrow at him, and Billy shrugged back. “I met someone last week. She owns two cafés, and she’s a coffee snob. Gonna refine my palate, she said.”

Frank looked back down to his paper before commenting, “I’m impressed you know that much about her, Bill. Didn’t think you bothered cos you usually cut & run.” Billy smirked, knowing he couldn’t dispute what Frank had just said, but he was going to enjoy the next slice of the conversation. Even just to see the expression on Frank’s face.

“I....like her. A lot. I want something with her.” “Something?” Frank chortled, “...you mean, like a relationship, Bill?” He looked closely at Billy, saw the shit-eating grin he had on his face and his jaw dropped. “You do, don’t you?! Fuckin’ hell! Never thought I’d see the day, Russo.” Billy burst out laughing.

“Well, that makes two of us, Frankie. But...” he spread his hands out to either side of him, “...it is what it is. And I’ll fill you in on all the details later. Now, this thing with Madani and Homeland - let’s get it nailed down.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

That same morning, you sat at your desk and slowly twirled from side to side in your chair. You sipped your cappuccino, and thought about Billy.

Little cousin had done you a favour this time and earlier on had delved into her company’s database, digging out some further information on Billy and Anvil which Google couldn’t provide you with. All it had given you was the bare minimum of the company’s founding date and numerous photos of Billy looking hot in his designer suits.

She told you she’d heard of him, and had also seen him at several events similar to the one you’d attended. You’d admitted you were seeing him, and she’d firstly screeched down the phone at you, nearly bursting your eardrum, before saying, “Now see, if you hadn’t gone in my place you wouldn’t have met him!” “Yeah, yeah, alright. Tell me what you’ve got for me.”

In a more serious tone, she said, “Just be careful though, his company seems a little... well, shady let’s just say. I mean, in the security business,” her voice lowered, “there’s usually some dodgy dealings or other going on. But him and his colleagues seem to have got themselves in some deep water with two federal agencies. I’ll email this stuff to you now and you’ll see what I mean.” You thanked her and hung up before she could tell you that now you owed her another favour.

You’d read through the attachments she’d sent you, and your eyes had got wide as you read that Billy and Anvil had originally been funded by a shadowy CIA guy, who’d then been killed in a gun battle between un-named protagonists. You sussed out that Anvil must’ve been one of those involved, as Billy and his friend Frank had been arrested and interrogated by Homeland Security before being released without charge. That struck you as a bit odd, but there were no more details available.

Your phone had chosen that moment to buzz with a FaceTime call from the man himself. You’d hesitated then accepted the call, and Billy’s handsome face popped up in front of you, with a wide smile plastered on it. You could see he was in his car. “Mornin’, sweetheart,” he said in a low sexy voice, and you felt your stomach tighten with excitement. This guy... the effect he had on you....!

You’d smiled and replied, “Morning, Billy.” He tilted his head towards you, dark eyes drawing you in, “Missin’ me? Because I’m missing you.” Shaking your head, smirking, you said, “We only saw each other a few hours ago so no, I’m not.” A cheeky grin from him this time, “Don’t believe you, angel, I think you can’t wait to see me again.” “You’re such a cocky bastard, Billy,” you laughed, “Why are you calling, exactly?”

His smile was a genuine one as he said, “I just wanted to see you before I head off to this job. Not sure when I’ll be able to call next. Remember - I’ll let you know as soon as I can when we can meet up this week.” You nodded, “Yeah, don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten.” He blew you a kiss, saying “Bye, angel,” before he rang off.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

One of your friends had called shortly afterwards to ask if you wanted to meet up for lunch, as you hadn’t seen each other in quite a while. Deciding that you could do with some girl time, you arranged to meet her in a steak house near the Chrysler Building, and then decided you’d better get some work done before you headed out for your long lunch hour.

The two of you had met up just outside the restaurant and had gone in chatting away to each other. Being shown to your table, you sat down only to spot Billy Russo walking in behind a small dark-haired woman. Your mouth dropped open, and your eyes took in every detail of her. She was pretty, with big dark eyes, olive skin and wavy hair in a shoulder-length bob. Billy, you noted, had his hand on her lower back, guiding her to their table, just as he had with you when you went for your first drink with him.

You leant forward to your friend, “I’m so sorry about this but we’re gonna have to go somewhere else.” She looked concerned, “What’s wrong?” “Someone I need to avoid just came in,” you explained, “c’mon, I’ll tell them I’ve had an emergency at work or something.” You both stood up, and you fled from the restaurant before you repeated your actions at that house party, which had got you arrested. You didn’t want to end up in jail this time just because of that jerk and his little lady.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy looked up as two women who’d been sitting near him stood up and started rushing towards the door. Weird, he thought, they hadn’t even been served judging by the menus still laying on their place settings. He looked back at them, and one of them turned back briefly to her friend behind her as they exited the premises.

His eyes widened and his jaw dropped. It was her. His angel. Oh fuck! Did she..? Yes, she must’ve seen him and... he glanced at Madani across the table from him, reading through the menu choices. She glanced up, smirking at Billy but it quickly dropped off her face, when she saw the expression on his.

“Billy?” she said, but he’d dumped his napkin onto his plate by now and was standing up.

“Sorry, Dinah... I gotta go.” An annoyed look on her face, she growled, “You’re kidding, right?”

“No, I’m not. I... there’s someone I gotta catch up with, and I just saw them leaving.” He walked away from their table, and towards the door of the restaurant. As he did so he heard Madani say in a harsh voice, “Is it a woman, Russo?” but ignored her.

He made it out onto the street, looking around him in all directions, heart sinking as he couldn’t see her anywhere.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@blackbirddaredevil23

#ben barnes #billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfiction #billy russo imagine

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themurphyzone · 3 years

Text

PatB Oneshot: Crystal Clear

AN: Part of an art trade with @plutonis in honor of her upcoming wedding. She tasked me with writing an introspective piece for a Brinky wedding. The art piece I requested is for the next chapter of Nova, so you’ll see the finished product there.

Prompt given by Pluto: I was wondering if you could do a little fic in which Brain is walking down the aisle on his wedding day, and we hear the thoughts going on in his head. What is he thinking? How is he feeling?

AO3 Link

If Brain had his way, he would’ve taped himself to the table leg with extra strong industrial strength duct tape and remained there for the rest of his life.

But Romy wouldn’t let him attach himself to said table leg, and Wakko already ate the duct tape to prevent him from getting it. All other binding materials, including the shoe strings and gluesticks, had been placed on a shelf mockingly out of his reach.

And since he was already in his wedding dress, he couldn’t even climb the shelf to retrieve the necessary materials.

“Dad, you’re killing the glarb,” Romy complained as he pried Brain from the table leg.

“Unhand me at once or so help me, Roman Numeral One!” Brain shouted, trying to break free from Romy’s grip, but it seemed their son had inherited Pinky’s unusual strength.

Wakko wasn’t any help either. He just watched the spectacle from his perch on the dresser, chomping on a platter of garlic prawns swiped from the catering company. Thankfully, Brain had the foresight to order plenty of garlic prawns for their celebratory dinner.

As soon as Romy’s grip loosened, Brain broke free and reattached himself to the table leg.

Funny, how he wanted this for so long. Yearned for it. And when the time came, even after all the progress he’d made, he was still afraid for reasons he didn’t understand.

It was illogical, he knew. He trusted Pinky more than anyone else, even himself.

But even that wasn’t enough to get him moving again.

“Guess someone’s gotta tell Ma you’re not coming,” Romy sighed.

Brain’s fingers dug into the wooden grooves.

“He’s definitely gonna cry. Probably gonna curl up on the couch and watch daytime soap operas with buckets of triple fudge ice cream or something,” Romy continued.

Sweet, innocent Pinky being heartbroken at his own wedding. Running off and doing who-knows-what, because he could be very unpredictable when he was truly distraught. His simple mind eroding away because of the unhealthy combination of trashy soap operas and ice cream diet.

Brain’s heart clenched uncomfortably at that mental image. With great reluctance, Brain let go of the table leg and marched over to the mirror to smooth out the wrinkles in his wedding dress to keep his hands occupied as he quelled that troublesome idea.

“You’re gonna tell him that Brain’s in here, right?” Wakko asked.

“Sure,” Romy replied.

Wait...everyone knew of his intentions to see this wedding through to the end. And he'd never let the hard work and efforts of their wedding plans go to waste.

It was just a ploy.

Brain took a deep breath. To lose his temper before the ceremony would surely spell catastrophe. He wanted to keep this an emotionally satisfying occasion, for Pinky’s sake.

“Romy, I won’t deny that your tactic was effective. But you will refrain from using my fondness for Pinky against me in the future,” Brain said.

Perhaps Roman Numeral One took after him more than he thought. It was impressive and aggravating at the same time.

"Sorry, Dad." Romy's head dropped as he handed the bouquet to Brain.

Like with Pinky, Brain just didn't have it in him to remain angry once an apology was issued. He transferred the bouquet to one hand and lifted Romy's chin from its downcast position.

"Look alive, Romy. This is a celebration," Brain ordered as he turned back to the mirror. "And Wakko, you're not touching our wedding rings with prawn-stained hands."

Wakko pulled out a kitchen sink from his hammerspace and started washing his hands without removing his gloves. With the soft hum of Happy Birthday in the background, Brain turned back to the mirror and examined himself one more time. They didn’t have long before the ceremony began.

His dress towed the line between simple and extravagant. Ruffles in the right places, but not so many that it would hinder movement. A small hole had been cut to fit his tail, carefully sized so that it was easy to thread the stiff appendage through. His sleeves cut off at the elbow, white fabric giving way to a delicate flower pattern, lending an elegant and dignified quality to the outfit.

It hadn’t been easy obtaining this dress. He’d lost track of how many toy aisles Pinky had dragged him down, and he didn’t want his outfit to come from the toy section of Walmart. Pinky had eventually called Dot for help, and with her connections, she arranged for a fashion designer who specialized in making clothes for dolls to help them out.

And while they eventually put the issue of clothes behind them, they had a fair number of arguments when Brain found a reason to reject all the dresses Pinky suggested. Especially with that gaudy puffed sleeve dress Pinky loved but Brain hated.

“I realize we must’ve been insufferable for the past few months,” Brain said. Planning for a wedding wasn’t anything like planning for world domination, as he learned the hard way. But it was Pinky’s wedding as much as it was his, and after one vehement disagreement, Brain had realized he was pushing out Pinky’s contributions to impose his own.

It wasn’t easy, but he did try to turn over some aspects to Pinky, just to see how he did with them. And Brain didn’t regret that choice, because the results were absolutely wonderful.

“Yeah, you and Ma were ruining my vibes,” Romy gave a lazy smile as Brain nudged him in retaliation.

Romy had said something similar when he’d first run away from home, but mischief had long replaced the anger. Though Brain still didn’t think ventriloquism was a lucrative career, he’d made his peace with Romy’s lifestyle while repairing their relationship. And Romy wasn’t the only one who derived happiness from working with dummies.

“Regardless, we’re grateful that you came,” Brain said.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Romy shrugged. “Better save your sap for the ceremony though.”

“I’m not being sappy,” Brain muttered out of principle rather than true irritation.

It was 2:55 pm. Five minutes until the ceremony began. He was running out of time.

He quickly fixed his leaf crown and attached veil so that it was less crooked. In years past, he never would’ve been satisfied until a golden crown with embedded jewels rested atop his head. But now he found the leaf crown was worth so much more than gold.

Then he made sure the transparent veil covered his face. The thin fabric didn’t hinder his vision, but he felt like he was looking through a lens.

Everyone would be watching him. He wanted that thin wall of privacy between himself and the onlookers. Seeing outside, but concealing his feelings within.

He didn’t have to. He knew he didn’t. But old habits die hard, it seemed.

The clock chimed three. It was time.

What could go wrong?

“Don’t worry!” Wakko exclaimed as he picked up the purple velvet cushion with their wedding rings. “I didn’t mistake these for tiny Ring Pops this time!”

Brain was a fool. A sentimental, lovestruck, starcrossed, and twitterpated fool.

Wakko brought up the lead as they marched through the twisting hallways of the enormous property they’d rented for their Hawaiian wedding. Surprisingly, coming up with a location for their wedding hadn’t been difficult. After a stressful day of making other arrangements, they’d chosen a scenic, relaxing travel documentary to unwind.

As soon as the documentary showed a beautiful Hawaiian beach at sunset, they both agreed on making Hawaii the destination of choice for both wedding and honeymoon. Brain gripped the flower bouquet tightly, careful not to crush the petals between his fingers. Romy’s hand was on his elbow, light enough to not be intrusive but quick to react so Brain didn’t run into a wall.

He’d assigned Pinky to the task of flower selection, and Pinky had researched the meaning of flowers extensively with an unusual amount of focus. If Pinky had his way, he would’ve gathered one specimen of every flower in the world and brought them to the wedding, though Brain eventually convinced him to narrow his list down to a single digit range.

Brain was only familiar with the rose as a symbol of love, and he recalled the meaning of only two other flowers within their wedding. The rest were completely lost on him. The first was the magnolia, which represented perseverance. As such, a white magnolia stood proudly in his bouquet, nestled among the red roses of passionate love. Pinky had chosen the magnolia for Brain, and insisted Brain choose at least one flower too.

Though Brain didn’t place much stock in what the websites claimed, he just went along with it to humor Pinky. But he’d settled on the colorful freesia, just to thank Pinky for his friendship, faith, and trust for all the years they’d known each other.

Their miniature procession stopped at a glass sliding door that separated them from the rest of the proceedings.

Brain gulped and clutched the bouquet to his chest.

Beyond those doors, the wedding guests mingled with each other on the grass. A gorgeous, azure beach formed the perfect backdrop to the ceremony. White, fluffy clouds dotted the sunny skies, and the beauty was rather foreign to him. He’d spent far too much of his life hiding away in the darkness of a sterile lab.

It seemed the entirety of their Animaniacs coworkers had shown up for the wedding. He was surprised by the turnout, but it seemed that everyone had been clamoring for him and Pinky to tie the knot for years.

And while the usual toon antics were prevalent among the guests, Brain’s attention was drawn to the very front, where Pinky was arranging flowers on Pharfignewton, who’d jumped at the offer of being Pinky’s best mare.

Back then, the sight would’ve incited a feeling he’d come to realize was jealousy. Now he was just grateful that Pinky received some physical affection from someone when Brain couldn’t give it to him.

Wakko opened the screen door, causing a stir among the guests in the back, which caused a ripple effect that spread to the front and prompted everyone to take their seats. Pinky slid off Pharfignewton’s back, bouncing on his toes and craning his neck to see Brain.

Even from this far away, Brain saw Pinky’s bright, goofy smile. It made him regret keeping the veil over his face, cloaking his happiness even from his partner.

“Testing, testing!” Yakko said into the microphone. When he’d been ordained to officiate a wedding, nobody knew for sure. He shuffled through the cards for his opening speech. “Alright, everyone. We’ve all been very impatient for this moment, so no more delays, capiche? Dot, start the music!”

A hush fell across the audience, and even the most rambunctious members of the Animaniacs crew fell silent as a soft piano arrangement of A Whole New World began to play.

Wakko proudly held the cushion with the wedding rings over his head and marched to the front. From the aisle, Mindy reached into her basket and threw pink flower petals into the air, and Buttons held onto her so she didn’t fall out of her seat.

Romy released Brain and followed Wakko. Pinky greeted their son with an enthusiastic hug, and Bunny flashed them a thumbs-up from her seat.

All the attention was on Brain now.

He wasn’t sure if he wanted it.

He wanted to flee inside the house. Tell everyone to go home and they’ll get refunded the costs at a later date. Take Pinky to city hall and sign a document to make their marriage official instead.

The audience whispered.

He saw the worry in Pinky’s eyes, a stunning shade of blue that popped out from the beautiful Hawaiian beach. They were too far from each other to speak normally, but Pinky laid his hand on top of the colorful freesia pinned to his white dress shirt, just over his heart.

Trust me, he was saying.

And Pinky had proven himself worthy of his trust long ago.

Slowly, Brain laid his hand on the magnolia, the centerpiece of his bouquet.

I won’t give up.

Pinky smiled that soft, knowing smile of his. Emboldened by his encouragement, Brain stepped out of the house and onto the white, silky path that had been laid out for him.

He took slow, methodical steps to steel his nerves. This was his reward, and he was allowed to have it.

No more electricity, no more fear of rejection.

The happiness of having someone by his side. The sorrow when they were separated either by force or by choice. The surprise of receiving gifts from Pinky when he’d done nothing to deserve them. The guilt that came from upsetting Pinky with morally questionable schemes.

Emotions he’d once derided as frivolous were now precious and dear to him.

All the good, all the bad, and everything in between. And this occasion marked a brand new beginning, a new chapter of their lives that would bring new happiness and surprises. Though they’d be sad, angry, or terrified sometimes, they’d always be together.

That’s what counted most.

The melody of A Whole New World floated gently through the air. An airy tune filled with wonder at a world previously unknown to them.

He and Pinky dueted this song so many times that the lyrics and background instrumentals were permanently etched into his mind.

Only now did he understand what the song was truly about. Leaving behind their defined roles, into a freedom-filled sky. Just the two of them, exploring a huge world together. The burdens of the past and worries of the future left on the ground, and all that mattered was the present.

Being themselves, and experiencing things they’ve never experienced before.

It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

He could hardly wait.

Pinky waited for him, taking Brain’s hand in his own. He was absolutely breathtaking up close.

“Narf,” Pinky whispered, and Brain would never tire of that endearingly stupid word. “You did it, Brain.”

“All thanks to you, Pinky,” Brain replied, and Pinky’s tail wagged at the praise.

Together, they walked to that beautiful wedding arch with intertwining pink and blue flowers, stopping in front of Yakko’s podium. Brain gave his bouquet to Romy so he could properly hold Pinky’s hands. Romy gave them a lazy grin, and Pharfignewton lowered her head so Romy could have a good perch. Wakko proudly balanced the cushion on his head, and Dot stood beside her brother, giving him a friendly shove without knocking the wedding rings off.

And Brain realized he was still seeing the world through veiled eyes. Though his vision was unimpeded, he’d barely noticed there was a filter among all his doubts and fears.

He’d kept the veil for a transparent amount of privacy when he walked down the aisle, but now that he was with Pinky…

Well, it just wasn’t necessary anymore.

He brought Pinky’s hands to the veil. Their eyes met, and a silent understanding passed between them.

Then Pinky threw back the veil, and the filter he’d been looking through was completely gone. And Brain saw the...no, he saw his world through fresh eyes.

A bright, happy, silly mouse stood before him, a colorful burst of freesia on his chest, and beautiful sky-blue eyes filled with endless love, promising hope and warmth and companionship forever more.

“You’re so pretty, Brain,” Pinky giggled.

It was the most wonderful sound for his compass, his heart, and his world.

No more tolerating. He fully accepted the undeniable fact of how much he loved Pinky, and Pinky loving him back from this point forward.

Never before had he felt so much happiness, and he was ready for everyone to see it.

Unable to contain himself, Brain leapt into Pinky’s arms and kissed him. Though he heard their audience reacting with shock, it was all just background noise to him. And he’d never been a patient mouse.

Pinky was surprised at first, but his strong arms wrapped around Brain to support him, and he kissed back wonderfully.

Fireworks exploded in Brain’s mind, or maybe the Warners set some off, he didn’t know. But he had to come up for air, and he released the kiss, though it seemed Pinky could keep going for quite some time.

“Technically, you’re supposed to wait until I say ‘you may now kiss the Brain’, but who am I to stop true love?” Yakko grinned.

“Sorry,” the mice chorused, though neither of them regretted the little break in protocol.

The audience burst into cheers, and Yakko led them in a standing ovation for a good five minutes before they all settled down enough for him to start his opening speech.

“Love you, Brain,” Pinky whispered as he put Brain down and took his hands again.

“Love you too, Pinky,” Brain replied, and he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face.

Everything was laid out before them, clear as crystal and bright as day.

End AN: This is cheesy but I don’t care I love it and they’re married now.

The Hawaiian setting is not a reference to the PatB fic Trouble in Paradise, it’s just that the last wedding I went to was in Hawaii and it was so romantic.

3rd time I’ve referenced A Whole New World in these fics. This song is just too perfect for them.

#pinky and the brain #brinky #patb fanfiction #cheesy in a good fluffy way

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kareofbears · 3 years

Text

plainly in truth, chapter 3/5

"Without you around, it's sorta like stuff is just kinda...bleh."

—

Or: hiding, confiding, and misguiding.

read on ao3 or below the cut :)

Ryuji grips the letter like it was silver and he was a werewolf in the full moon.

He picks it up, skims over the first line before putting it down beside him, feeling worse every time he does it, only able to read the fine-printed lettering from the flickering lamp post above him. The constant change in light would normally bug him, but he doesn’t really care about it now; it’s not like the words would change in his hand, and he’s long since needed to actually read it to know what it reads.

His feet dangle over the canal, enjoying the way a rush of adrenaline would go through him when he looks down into the deep waters. It’s late enough in the night that even with the city lights around him, he can’t gauge how deep it goes.

Soseikawa Park was only a five minute walk from Odori Park, but with the narrow river and steeped hills, Ryuji found it secluded enough to let himself sit. Breathe. Not exist, even for just a few minutes. It’s like having his own bedroom, except it smells faintly like a sewer and there’s an intersection about ten meters above where he sat underneath the overpass. If he can ignore the never-ending rumble of cars and trucks driving above him, it can almost be considered peaceful.

He lets himself fall back, the grass tickling the back of his neck and his spine screaming in relief. They’re heading out again in two days, which means more days of being in an inescapable RV surrounded by his best friends who are keeping an eye on him because they’re good people who don’t know how to mind their own fucking business.

Idly, he lets his hands pull and brings it to his face—blades of grass. He lets it get taken by the wind. After brief consideration, he shoves the letter back into his pocket before he can do the same thing to it.

He is so tired.

Blindly, he hits the vague area of where his pocket is and fishes out his phone, hitting the first speed dial before he can talk himself out of it. As two rings go by, he stupidly hopes that she doesn’t pick up, as if she hasn’t ever missed a phone call from him even when she’s at work.

The third ring gets cut off halfway through. “Ryu!”

Despite himself, he grins. “Hey, ma. Checking in for the weekly call.”

“I was just thinking about you,” she says, and he can hear the laundry machine run in the background. “I was wondering if you had eaten today.”

“Ma, you ain’t gotta worry about that kinda thing anymore. I’m a big boy now.”

“You’re breaking my heart!” He can almost see her, phone tucked in the crook of her neck, work-worn hands folding her laundry as fast as she can so as to not hold up the next person in line. “It doesn’t matter how big you are, you’re my boy. How can I not think about whether my boy is eating or not?”

“All I’ve done on this trip is eat, ma.”

“Oh, and Akira! How’s that handsome boy doing? Still taking the world by storm?”

That pulls a genuine laugh from him—he never needs to hold back when it comes to talking about Akira, at least. “You know it. He’s the only guy in the world who can stand toe-to-toe with me in chowing down. I swear, he’s slipping some of it under the table ‘cause he’s so damn fast. Forty seconds! Forty seconds to inhale an extra large beef bowl! Blows my mind, seriously.”

“Could never do anything in halves, can he?” she chuckles, before the quality of her voice shifts. “And are you enjoying yourself?”

He hesitates. “Yeah, of course. It’s a roadtrip across Japan, how can I not?”

“Good.” There’s some crackling over the receiver, and he guesses she’s probably adjusting the basket full of clothes on her hip. “That’s all I want to hear. As long as you’re happy, Ryu, I’m a happy old woman.”

Ryuji opens his mouth, ready to console her.

I’m always happy!

You worry too much, ma.

There’s nothing to worry about.

“Sorry, but,” he swallows thickly. “I think they’re calling for me? So—”

“Alright,” she says, and he might be imagining the disappointed tinge to it. “Call back when you can, okay sweetheart? I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” he clears his throat. “I love you, ma.”

“I love you too, Ryu.”

He hangs up, letting the phone slip out of his fingers. It lands hard on the flat grass

For a long moment, he just lays there, listening to the gentle lapping waves and cars honking with impatience of people who have somewhere to be. He tries to meditate for half a minute, with all the information he had learned from a couple of YouTube videos, and gives up, because of course he does. Squeezing his eyes shut, he can’t do anything about the creeping dread that’s in his stomach getting stronger, squeezing and squeezing until he feels sick. It’s like his insecurities are having this huge fight against each other, feeding off of one another until it gets too big for him to handle and all he can do is breathe and try to do something about it.

And he’s fucking sick of it—breathing. He’s sick of the stupid breathing techniques, sick of counting down from ten and waiting for his own heart to chill out because his brain won’t stop reminding him of everything he did wrong, of shit he’s still doing wrong because at least this way, nobody knows what he did was wrong. It’s just him that can point and laugh at himself, and that’s way better than having the world do it for him.

He doesn’t cry, because he’s not a crier. He’s the type of guy to throw a fist through drywood before shedding a tear, and he hates that about himself. Rather than do something that will actually help, Ryuji lays there, perfectly still. Listening. Waiting for a meteor to fall on him, or for the overpass to crash its entire weight on top of him.

Instead, he hears footsteps.

His heart rate slows by a fraction, and opens his eyes to meet gray ones. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Akira says, a smile in his voice. “How did you know it was me?”

Ryuji almost feels offended. He would know Akira by sound alone, the way his heels would click in the Metaverse. The way the balls of his feet would strike the earth, hardly muffled by grass or cheap sneakers or anything else as trivial. Ryuji would know he was there; no matter how blind he was with hatred for himself, his love for Akira would always guide him back to where he needs to be.

“Lucky guess.”

“One hell of a guess.” He plops down onto the grass and Ryuji lifts his head, allowing Akira to wiggle until he could use his lap as a pillow. “Your turn,” Akira says.

“My turn to what?”

“To ask me how I knew where you were.”

“Oh.” He lets his eyes slide shut again. “I kinda just assumed you could do that.”

“You assume too much of me sometimes.”

“I assume the right amount.” Ryuji refuses to shiver when he feels long fingers start to card through his hair. “You’re giving me goosebumps,” he sighs.

“That’s a good thing, I think.” The fingers pull away and he’s about to complain when he feels something gets thrown over his torso. “Here. You always end up forgetting to wear an extra layer when you go out like this.”

Ryuji rearranges Akira’s jacket over himself. “Sap.”

“You know it.” He resumes combing through his hair, and Ryuji lets himself relax, just a little. It’s strange—it’s hard as hell being around other people nowadays, and even though Akira can make him feel that sometimes, mostly it helps the eternal twisting of his stomach to settle.

“You’re good at that,” Ryuji mutters.

“Thank you. I’ve had plenty of practice with Morgana.” And just to make it worse, he uses a little bit of nail on his nape, sending electricity running down all the way to his fingertips.

His mouth twists unhappily. “Don’t do shit like that while talking about the cat, for the love of god.”

Akira does it again, like the little shit he is. “You still have that weird thing with your neck?”

“Quit it!” Ryuji slaps his thigh and he can’t muster much anger when he can feel Akira’s shoulders shake from silent laughter. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.”

“You’re right.” Gently, softly, like the world’s lightest feather, he feels lips brush his temple. “I’m funnier.”

His eyes open, and his entire vision is obscured by curly black hair and tender eyes. “You’re right,” he breathes. “You’re funnier.”

Akira bends down again, and Ryuji catches his lips, overflowing with something soft but unafraid, and it’s so good that Ryuji reaches for his cheek just to make it last a little bit longer.

When they break off, Akira kisses his temple again, this time on the left side. “Do you know what day it is?”

“Uh,” he scratches his head, brain a little fuzzy. “Tuesday?”

“It’s Wednesday, and I meant the date. It’s August tenth.”

“Okay?”

Akira thumbs at his collarbone. “I know this might be a little lame that I know it by heart, but I left Tokyo on March 19th. That would mean it’s been—”

“One hundred forty-four days since you moved away,” he finishes. “I know.”

Akira blinks, and then laughs, and Ryuji knows it’s an especially good one because sound actually comes out this time. “Yes,” he says, elated. “Exactly what I was thinking.”

“I told you dude, we’re really on that telepathy shit.”

“We really are.” A pause. “I miss you.”

He’s about to joke—I’m right here, you big dummy—but find that he just can’t. “I miss you too.”

They can’t say what they mean: I will miss you. Summer vacation doesn’t last forever, and two months will always be a hell of a lot shorter than the rest of the ten months that they’ll be apart. Somehow, he dreads seeing Akira gone, and he’ll dread seeing Akira back in Tokyo because it would mean that he’d actually have to see what Ryuji’s really like. Actively pushing away his best friend just so he doesn’t have to see his failures; doesn’t that just make him the worst piece of shit in the world?

There’s a gap, though. A little loophole. A crack in the timeline. A place where maybe he’s allowed to be a hollowed out version of happy; the now.

“Tomorrow’s our last day in Sapporo?”

“Yeah?” Akira replies, surprised at the change in tone.

“Which means Jail stuff is done, right? All your grocery shopping and Sophia Prime’s been ordered and packed up?”

“Yes,” he says, a lilt in his voice. “It’s all done.”

Ryuji sits up and faces him, reaching for his wrists, relishing in the heartbeat thumping against his palms. “Let’s do something. I don’t care what, but let’s do something. Eat at a diner, go to a museum, rob a bank, whatever.” He runs his thumb along the veins there, long since those bumps have been ingrained in his brain. “Let’s do something, just you and me.”

“Are you asking me out on a date, Sakamoto?” He has a cocky look in his eye, and Ryuji’s half-tempted to kiss him again just to wipe it clean off his face. “You know I’d follow you anywhere.”

He knows. That’s the scary part. Would Akira still follow someone he doesn’t know as well as he thinks he does? “I’ll get us lost,” he jokes.

Akira doesn’t laugh. “I’d rather be lost with you than learn to lose you.”

It’s been ages since he’s been flustered at anything Akira does, but he feels a rush of heat crawl up his neck. “I’ll—” Ryuji shakes his head, willing his embarrassment to go away. “Shit, uh—”

“I’ll pick where to go,” he interrupts, a little too smug for his liking. “I’d say I’ll pick you up at your place, but…”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a comedian,” Ryuji rolls his eyes. “I’ll be ready whenever.”

“Fantastic.” Akira checks his phone, wincing. “It’s late.”

He grips his wrist tightly. “I know.”

Thankfully, he’s never needed to explain much to Akira. “Okay,” he says softly. “Ten more minutes?”

“Yeah.” He lets his eyes slide shut once more, letting out a breath. The world will keep spinning. His stomach will keep twisting. Time will keep marching on, but at least he has this. “Ten minutes sounds good.”

—

The first words that Futaba says as she enters the RV was: “Oh, hell.”

“Hello Futaba-chan, Yusuke-kun,” Haru greets cheerfully from the booth. “How was your shopping trip?”

“...Fine,” she replies, stepping aside to let him in, lugging a four-foot tall canvas in his arms that accidentally hits the ceiling. “Got a new Featherman action figure.”

“I got a canvas,” Yusuke answers from behind the wall of white. “Though I assume you can see that.”

“I can.” Her smile doesn’t falter, and it’s making the hair on Futaba’s nape rise like a nervous animal. “Quick question, since you both are here…”

Haru pulls a tote bag from underneath the table, and it’s so heavy that when she throws it on the table, her teacup nearly topples over. “Would you like to take a guess of what’s in this bag?”

A billion jokes pop into Futaba’s head, but both of them stay silent, terrified and confused. They both knew this was coming, but they didn’t expect her to be so forward about it.

“I suppose that’s a pretty strange question, I’m sorry. Let me try again.” She reaches in and pulls out thick, heavy textbooks, all brightly coloured and consist of beaming, diverse students on the front cover. “Care to tell me why you were both looking at cram books while we’re on our fun roadtrip?”

Yusuke pushes Futaba aside, eyes on the books and wide with shock. “You bought them?!” he exclaims.

“Wait—” Futaba hops repeatedly, trying to catch a glimpse from over his shoulder. “You bought all of them?”

“Of course.”

“But why?”

She thinks about it for a moment. “Hmm, think about it this way. If Akira’s in charge of the group as a whole, and Makoto’s in charge of the more analytical aspect of things, think of me as a somewhat stern yet loving parent who doesn’t quite know how to mind their own business.”

“I thought that was Ann’s job,” Futaba mutters, heart hammering in her chest.

“Now,” Haru leans forward, and as if to prove her role, speaks in a gentle tone. “I’m not mad at you. That would be ridiculous. But I saw you two looking at these books, and I know how expensive they can be, so I’ll give them to you.”

She blinks. “You would?”

“Absolutely!” Haru smiles wide. “On the condition that you tell me why you need them.”

Futaba and Yusuke exchange a glance, before Futaba makes a T with her hands. “Timeout!” she yells, dragging Yusuke by the collar out of the RV.

“What do we do?” he whispers once the door is shut. “It’s not as if we can tell her.”

“I don’t know, maybe we should?” she pushes up her glasses. “Damn, the things money can buy you. Our vow of silence is getting thrown out the window for two handfuls of yen.”

He looks her dead in the eyes. “I would tell the world my deepest secrets if it meant having lifetime access to a grocery store.”

“Don’t say that, you sellout!”

“I’m not selling out. My art already reveals the deepest portion of my soul, it’s not my fault that the common observers cannot pick up what I’m putting down.” He squints against the setting sun. “She’s waiting. What do we do?”

“Okay, okay, okay, just let me—” her mind whirrs rapidly, and for a second she really feels like Sophia. “Give me a second.”

“I have a suggestion,” he points at her. “If we’re not averse to lying, let’s tell them that you need them for school. You’re struggling with academics, you need a bit of outside help, so we took a look at the textbooks.”

“Good idea! Wait.” She frowns. “They’ll never buy it. Let’s say that you need them.”

“I’m at the top of my class!”

“But they don’t know that!” She balls her fists together, determined. “Okay, let’s do this.”

“I didn’t say yes to this.”

Futaba kicks the door open, making Haru pause wiping her spilt drink mid-stroke. “Inari’s struggling with his classes!”

“I—“ Yusuke stammers. “Yes,” he confirms. “I’m struggling with my classes. They’re mighty indeed, and even I find them difficult. I am...struggling.”

Haru looks at them doubtfully. “Yusuke is?”

“I am,” he answers as Futaba says, “He is.”

“Yusuke,” she repeats, gesturing to the neatly-stacked pile of textbooks on the table. “Is struggling with precalculus?”

They stare at her. “Yes,” Yusuke says, slowly. “I am struggling with previous calculus.”

“Out of curiosity, Yusuke,” Haru scratches her cheek. “Do you know what a parabola is?”

“Of course I do,” he replies with the wisdom of a thousand monks. “It’s a self-contradictory statement.”

“That’s a paradox,” Makoto corrects from the steering wheel.

“What the heck?” Futaba jumps a foot in the air. “Why are you here? Why were you hiding?”

“I like to sit here a few hours before we start another road trip,” she says, before glaring at them. “You two. Does this have to do with Ryuji?”

“T-timeout!”

Futaba makes a beeline to the door again, but Haru’s faster. She slips past them, standing in their way, perfect smile still in place. Sometimes Futaba forgets how strong she is in negotiations; her and Yusuke were probably tutorial levels compared to the upper management of Okumura Foods. “Answer her question, please.”

Yusuke sighs, tired. “You know what you’re asking for, don’t you? If we tell you what’s happening here, it would be breaking the trust of one of our teammates.”

“Yusuke!” Futaba hisses. “Are you really thinking about telling them? It’s not even our secret to tell.”

“No, it isn’t.” He makes eye contact with Makoto. “But she made a point. What would make us better friends: if we kept a secret to the grave while letting him suffer, or tell someone who can help even if it means being some sort of tattletale?”

“But…” she trails off, resolve crumbling. “Dude. It’s going to suck so much.”

“I know.” He pats her head, before moving to Ryuji’s backpack once more. “Don’t worry, I’m willing to take his anger if need be.” Yusuke gestures to the booth. “Everyone, take a seat. It’s about time this finally gets cleared up.”

Smoothing out the envelope in his hand, even more crumpled than when they had it last, he clears his throat, takes one last glance at Futaba to make sure. At her tentative nod, he begins to read its contents in a loud, clear voice.

When he finishes, they sit there, staring at the thick paper in silence.

“Oh my god,” Makoto breathes. “I knew it was bad, but—”

Haru shakes her head. “Not this bad. And he talked about it so much, but we didn’t even…” she glances down at the textbooks, idly rubbing its spine. “I didn’t think much of it.”

“None of us did,” Yusuke says. “But does that make it any better?”

They fall in silence again, but Futaba can hear the answer loud and clear. Hell no.

The door opens forcefully, pulling them out of their stupor.

“What’s up, my beloved friends!” Ann calls, shopping bags in tow. “God, I’m gonna miss Sapporo. Things here are so cheap compared to Tokyo, sheesh!” She sets them down, laughing when nobody says anything. “Jeez, what’s going on? Did I miss something?”

“Ann-chan,” Haru says carefully, all sense of cheer, for intimidation or otherwise, gone. “Take a seat. There’s something you should know.”

—

The Ferris wheel looms over them, blocking out most of the sunset behind it. “Nice,” Ryuji grins appreciatively. “I should’ve seen this one coming.”

“You should’ve,” Akira agrees, tugging him into the open carriage. He goes in willingly. “It was staring at you the whole time we’re in Sapporo. And besides, every romantic movie has a Ferris wheel scene, doesn’t it?”

“Oh yeah? Name one.”

“Death note.”

Ryuji makes a face, and Akira laughs. “Yeah, I know. Bad example.”

It’s a tight squeeze but they sit next to each other, ignoring the bench in front of them. The seats are hot, and even though it’s nearly evening, the heat barely eases up on them. Still, he finds himself pressing himself against Akira. He runs cold, much colder than Ryuji; narrow wrists are ice, prominent collarbones frost.

The two of them lean over the window, pointing out random scenery as if it were the first time they were seeing them. Restaurants, statues. Weird looking cars and flower beds. Decorated high rises and insects that fly by. It’s like they were tourists, or a retired couple who just want to travel the world. He’s never wanted to be old before, but Akira always has a way of making him change his mind.

Like clockwork—Ryuji makes a joke. Akira laughs. His heart feels lighter.

When he finds himself leaning against him, feet up on the bench, Akira wraps his arms around his shoulders unhesitatingly. Ryuji wonders if he can hear the way his heart thuds inside his bones. He wonders if he knows it's for him. The Ferris wheel stops, right at the very top, gently swaying like it were a giant cradle. They’re not very high up, but it’s far enough that he feels like he’s left the entire world behind.

Ryuji presses his lips against those wrists, relishing in the way he can feel the heartbeat increase. “You nervous?”

He can feel his head shake behind him. “I’m happy, I think,” Akira says in a hushed voice, like it was a secret, like it was a sin.

A breeze flows through, and Ryuji closes his eyes when lips press against just below his ear.

Would it be worth it to have a Palace? A Jail? Would it be worth it to lose himself, just to be in this moment for the rest of time?

Carefully, he flips himself sideways, just so he can press more of himself against Akira. The carriage rocks gently, and the metal bench underneath them is sharp and uncomfortable. Arms tighten around him. Chest to back, knee to knee, they couldn’t be closer, but Ryuji leans back, wanting nothing more than to bottle the rhythm of his breathing and the smell of his soap.

I’m happy, too, I think, he wants to say. If we stayed like this for the rest of our lives, until our skin is permanently tattooed into the hot steel and our bones are the only thing they take out of this bench because the rest of us had already rotted, then I’d be pretty damn happy.

Craning his neck backwards, Akira is already staring.

Then he’s kissing him—once, twice, again and again, and Ryuji realizes that something’s different. This wasn’t the kind of kiss he was used to. There was a desperate air to it, an urgent edge from both of them that neither was ready for. Stealing each other’s breath and giving it back; the cycle continues, the clock keeps ticking.

Ryuji pulls himself up, not breaking the kiss, cupping his cheek and soaking him in like a flower to the sun; an endless yearning, like he’d shrivel up and suffocate if it vanished. The sun framed Akira, and for a split second, he feels like he understands what Yusuke sees on a canvas.

When they part, foreheads leaning against each other, Ryuji lifts a trembling hand to wipe the tear that rolled down Akira’s cheek.

“What’s up?” he asks softly. “Is something wrong?”

“I feel like you’re a miracle, Ryuji.”

How do you respond to that? When the person who said it feels like they’re the one who’s magic, who’s too good to be true?

“Fuck miracles,” he says, pulling Akira in again.

—

The circuit felt like it ended too soon, but it’s night when they finally stepped off, holding hands and faces flushed. He hopes the ride operator doesn’t hate them, but he’s in too good of a mood to really complain.

Ryuji stops in his tracks when he sees who’s in front of them.

“Ann?” Akira questions, taken aback. Eyes dark and brows pulled close together, clutching her purse like a weapon of war—she looks like she’d just seen someone set an orphanage on fire.

Her voice is shockingly deep, gaze fixed on Ryuji. “I’m borrowing him for a second.”

Before either of them can say anything, Ann takes him by the bicep, and he can only glance at Akira before he’s dragged back into the Ferris wheel.

“Did you even pay—?”

“Don’t start,” she hisses, pushing him on the bench, hard. “Don’t you dare start, you damn liar.”

His blood runs cold. “What?”

No. That’s impossible.

“Don’t play dumb with me.” She shoves her hand in her bag and throws something rubber at him. “Do you know how long it took me to find a good one here? I spent my entire day in the shopping district—not looking for clothes, or shoes, or whatever the hell I thought would be fun. No, I spent our last day in Sapporo looking for that.”

Ryuji looks down at the hot compress in his hands, a lump in his throat.

“Because you weren’t doing anything to your knee,” she continues, jaw tight. “Despite me trying my best to help you get better. I thought that you must’ve been really fan-freaking-tastic at hiding the pain that you told me about. That I trusted was the truth because you’re one of my best friends and I trust you. I trust you with my life, my secrets—” Ann grits her teeth. “What the hell?”

“How did you find out?” he asks hoarsely.

She knows. If she knows, they could know. If they could know—

“Damn you, it doesn’t matter how I found out!” she throws her hands in the air, voice so hurt that it twists his insides impossibly tighter. “You think I would care? You think that this is important enough to lie to me about? Dammit, I don’t care that you—”

“Don’t say it,” he begs. “Please.”

“I don’t give a single shit that you failed second-year, Sakamoto!”

Her words ring against the steel walls, deafening.

Bile crawls up his esophagus, and he readies himself for another attack. But for some strange reason, his vision doesn’t blur. Instead, anger kicks in like it always does.

“You don’t care?” he asks, incredulous. “This doesn’t even have anything to do with you!”

“It does when you lie to me about it!” she yells back. “Do you not care about me? About your friends who would go to hell and back for you?”

“How dare you—!”

“You lied to me, you hid it from everyone else, you ignored our advice because it doesn’t mean shit to you.” She points a finger at him. “And look where that got you.”

“Shut up.”

“We all noticed, you know! Each and every one of us noticed that something was up, even the literal robot—”

“Shut the hell up, Ann.”

“And for what? All you accomplished was hurt our feelings, hold in yours, and keep it from the love of your life—”

Ryuji stands up, rocking the carriage and nearly toppling Ann off her feet.

“It’s because I fucking hate myself!”

She grips the barred window, eyes wide. They stare each other down for a few long moments, before the ride comes to an abrupt end. The door swings open, allowing a cheery greeting from the oblivious employee.

And then Ann sighs, shoulders deflating. “Come on,” she jerks her head to the door, before stepping out herself. “Let’s go.”

“What?” he asks, puzzled. “Where?”

“If we’re going to delve into the psyche of Sakamoto Ryuji, we might as well do it with some food in front of us.”

—

The cafe Ann takes him to is bright, filled with pastries and crowded with people—stools are pastel blue, baristas are wearing cute bowties, and each cup of coffee comes with an alarming amount of whipped cream on top. Sojiro would have a heart attack if he walked three kilometers of this place, but Ryuji’s glad that the resemblance is far and away than that of Leblanc.

The booth is pressed into the corner of it all; up against the window and far enough from the main bustle that they’d have to really put their all into it if they wanted to take their order. On one side sat Futaba, nervously tracing shapes on the window while Haru sits beside her. The opposite end has Yusuke and Makoto.

They all look up when they hear the bell chime, and Ryuji almost laughs. “It’s been a long ass time since I’ve seen you guys look so serious,” he remarks, sliding next to Makoto while Ann sits next to Haru. “Where’s the food at? Come on guys, food’s good for you.”

He raises a hand. “Excuse me! We’re ready!”

“Ryuji,” Futaba’s voice is brittle. “I—”

“Hold on shorty,” he reaches to pat her head, voice coming out soft. “We’ll get to that. I promise.”

A waiter comes, takes their drink order, and leaves. When he does, Yusuke places a heavy hand on the table. “I was the one who told everyone.”

“That’s not true!” Futaba cries out, and everyone jerks back in shock. “That’s bull! I’m the one who told him to go through your stuff ‘cause he was worried about you, but I’m the one who actually—”

“No, I’m the one at fault here,” Haru casts her gaze downwards. “It was really none of my business, but I forced these two to tell everyone here. I’m so sorry—”

Ryuji sighs. “Guys, it’s fine.” He’s met with an incredulous look. “Okay, it isn’t, but none of this is your fault, you know? I’m not mad.” His gaze shifts to Ann. “But you’re allowed to be mad at me. I know I shouldn’t have hidden it.”

She gives him a weighted look. “Then why did you do it?”

“Ann,” Makoto warns.

“No, I’m not budging on this.” She leans forward. “He lied to me. Lying doesn’t get you anywhere good. That was really stupid of you.”

“Ann!” Futaba cuts in, horrified.

“You’ve seen what happened with Shiho.” Ryuji flinches back like he’s been hit. He knows. Ann knows he knows. But she keeps going anyway. “She lied to me about what was happening, and I lied to her back. It kept going and going, and—” she snaps her fingers. “She’s gone from my life. For how long? I don’t know, maybe until we graduate. Maybe until her rehab ends. Maybe longer. Who knows? All I know is if we had just—talked, or—” Ann shakes her head, frustrated. “From the start. Tell us what happened. And afterwards, let us help you, or I swear to god I’m going to cry, and I know you can’t stand it when people cry.”

The silence is deafening, even with the clamor of people and voices around them.

Ryuji lets out a breath. “Yeah, alright.”

She raises an eyebrow. “You will?”

“I will,” he repeats, idly checking his pulse. Heart rate is a little quick, but in no danger of having another breakdown. “I’ll tell you everything.”

The waiter chooses that time to drop off their drinks; all cold except Haru, nursing a hot cup of tea. They definitely didn’t buy enough to justify the god-knows-how-long they’re going to spend here, but they’re just gonna have to suck it up.

“Alright,” he starts when they’re alone again. “We going from the start?”

“The very beginning,” Ann confirms.

With one last glance at his friends, he sighs, sits up straight, and flashes them the biggest grin he can muster:

“Hi,” he greets. “I’m Sakamoto Ryuji, and I failed my second-year of high school.”

No one’s expression shifts, not even an inch. He can’t help but be a little impressed. “You guys know that I’ve never been the greatest with books. Shit, screw greatest—I’ve ranked bottom five ever since I started middle school. Didn’t help that my leg got fucked to high heaven and everyone started hating me. Nearly dropped out a couple times. Had no one, really. Worst time in my life, hands down.

“So imagine this dumb little kid, middle of April, running into this guy.” Without meaning to, the grin shifts into something more genuine. “Good-looking dude, super smart, real charmer but you wouldn’t be able to tell just by lookin’ at him. And that guy saved my life. Ten, twenty, thirty times over. He was so great that the dumb kid obviously fell in love with him. But what’s even crazier is that the guy fell in love with the dumb little kid, too.

“Crazy, right? Sounds made up, but I promise it’s true.” He catches Futaba’s expression shift to exasperation. “I know, I can’t believe it either.”

“That’s not what I meant, you sap,” she says.

“Yeah, but that dumb little kid,” he explains. “Couldn’t believe it. Literally couldn’t believe it. Thinks that he struck the lottery, struck by damn lightning. I mean—” Ryuji laughs a little. “How can someone so amazing and cool be in love with such a moron? What made it worse…”

He gestures at all of them. “Was that the guy had so many people in his life who was also amazing. His social circle was made up of, and correct me if I’m wrong: a successful journalist, a politician, some dude from the mob, a random child who breaks gaming records on the daily, and I’m not even counting people from this goddamn table. So dumb little kid knows, he fucking knows that somehow, someway, he tricked the cool guy into falling in love with him. The kid sucked, no, sucks,” he corrects. “At everything. Can’t do anything worthwhile.”

“Ryuji…” Haru whispers.

“Almost done, I know it’s running on kinda long,” he promises. “So the dumb little kid became kinda obsessed with the group’s ‘activities’, and it’s obvious why he would, right? If he knows he’s not good enough for the guy he’s in love with, then he can at least try to be. But since he already sucked at school to begin with, dummy over here completely bailed on school and ended up flunking so bad that he failed an entire year.”

An entire year. An entire year.

It’s becoming harder and harder to breathe, but he’d rather get hit by a truck than lose it in front of so many people. Gritting his teeth, he does what he knows is bad, what every google search and YouTube video says you should not do—he pushes his feelings, far and hard away from himself, so far that it’s like it doesn’t even exist.

It works surprisingly well.

“And, uh—” Ryuji clears his throat. “He hid it. Because you know the one, single thing that’s worse than realizing you’re not good enough for the other person?”

No one answers. “Waiting for the day that they realize that you’re not good enough for them.”

“And that’s pretty much the bulk of it.” Reaching for his mug, he takes a sip of his lukewarm lemonade. Damn, he really did talk for a while. “I didn’t want to tell the rest of you because one, it’s really fucking embarrassing that I failed, and two—”

“Akira can’t know,” they all say in unison.

“Exactly, you guys get the point by now.” He drums his fingers against the table, trying to ignore the blatant gloom cast on all of their faces. “Question time starts now, if anyone wants to ask anything.”

Makoto opens her mouth, but he beats her to it. “If anyone even thinks about feeling pity, or be all ‘no, you’re smart actually!’, I am walking out of this cafe and I am not looking back.”

“What about summer school?” Makoto asks immediately. “If you didn’t want us to know, then you could’ve taken that without even telling us.”

“Summer school was never an option.”

“And why not?” she slaps her hand against the table. “It would’ve solved this entire situation!”

“Because Akira was coming home for the summer,” he says simply. “And I wanted to enjoy my time with him without this hanging over my head.”

Her jaw drops open. “But...that’s…”

“Stupid?” he offers. “Idiotic? Really dumb? Potentially throwing away my entire future? Yeah, I gotcha. Another part of it was that the thought of staying at Shujin for another minute makes me want to jump into traffic, if that helps make me look a little better in your mind, miss prez.”

Makoto’s expression of confusion freezes, taken aback by the harshness of his words. Ryuji cringes at himself. “Sorry.”

“No,” she says finally. “The fault is mine. I have no right to judge your actions, or to pretend I know what kind of stress is burdening you.” Hesitating, she asks, “May I request another question?”

“Shoot.”

“What were you going to do when we eventually go back to Tokyo?”

As expected of someone who went head-to-head against the ace detective in front of the entire school; her questions are brutal. “I don’t know, honestly. I was planning on ignoring the problem for now and just sort of,” he gestures vaguely. “Enjoy the summertime sun?”

“A moment,” Haru goes through her bag. “It’s a long story, but I have these—”

The second the books peek out of her tote, he recognizes the cover immediately. “Cram books? You bought some?”

“Yes!” she answers, mistaking his reaction for eagerness. “It’s a very small gesture, but I’d love for you to have them.”

“I—” he leans away from them, breath catching in his throat. “No.”

“No?” she blinks.

“Not now, senpai.” Trying out his new trick again, he forces his heart to slow down, forces his breathing to regulate again without any of the techniques, and forces himself not to feel any of the fear that he’d normally have to go through. It works, but barely. “I’m not—I don’t think I’m ready to deal with that yet.”

“That’s fine.” Haru puts them away, and as hard as he tries, he can still see how dejected she was. “I’ll hold on to them for you.”

“Thank you.” He glances around. “Any last takers? Q&A is almost up.”

“I have one,” Yusuke pipes up.

“Go for it.”

“How are you?” he asks genuinely.

Ryuji can’t help it—a laugh gets pulled out of him. “How am I?” he repeats.

“Yes. How are you?”

“Uh,” he laughs again. “Not good, man. Not good.”

Everyone startles when Ryuji stands abruptly. He slams down the rest of his lemonade, relieved at how it helps his parched throat. “Alrighty, that took a lot out of me! Let’s get out of here, I’m sick of being surrounded by fake coffee and poser cafe fanatics.”

“I’ll take care of the bill,” Haru says, following his lead and scooting out from the booth.

“What? No, come on. I don’t care how rich you are, at least let me pay half.”

“Ryuji.” She looks him dead in the eye. “I’ll take care of the bill.”

“...Yes ma’am.”

Slowly, they all start filing out, some exiting the cafe while Makoto goes to the till with Haru. Ryuji reaches for Ann’s elbow before she can leave. “Hey.”

Turning her head, it’s as if her lips were permanently stitched downwards. “Yeah?”

“I’m really sorry I lied to you,” he says, somber. “That was shitty, and it doesn’t matter what I’m going through—you can’t deal with lies. I get that. I won’t put you through that again.”

Ann kisses her palm before slapping it against his forehead. “You better not,” her voice drips in affection. “You said not to console you—”

“I did, and I meant it.”

“But I’m here for you,” she rubs his skin harder, and he winces at the chafing. “You know that, right? No matter how crazy the shit inside your head gets, I want you to talk to me.”

“I know it,” he says, not just because he wants the friction to ease up. “I know it now, for sure.”

“Good.” Ann releases him, and goes to join Haru and Makoto up front. “You might want to head out. Someone’s starting to make a fuss.”

“What?” he turns around, making direct eye contact with Futaba, nursing a blank expression on her face. “I see.”

The bell chimes once more when he steps out, relieved at the cool summer air that hits him. “Shorty,” he says in lieu of a greeting. “What’s good?”

“Here.” Ryuji glances down at her, who’s holding a familiar, now very-crumpled envelope between her fingers. It’s weird seeing her hold the letter announcing his failure like a bomb, but he understands the sentiment. “I had to show Ann because she wouldn’t believe me until I got some proof.”

“Thank you,” he says, shoving it in his pocket. “I’m not mad at you, you know.”

“I know you’re not.” She swallows and stares down at her shoes. Her laces were covered in little beads and stars, something he had bought for her during a weekend hangout once. “This isn’t me pitying you, or showering you with some kind of boohoo potion.”

She swallows again. “I failed my first year of high school. It was for a completely different reason—guilt for who I thought I killed rather than wanting to be something else. But I know. I know so much about what you’re going through.”

Futaba looks up, and his heart wrenches when he sees the tears in her eyes. “I’m so, so sorry if I made you sad, or that I kept calling you stupid back then,” she sobs. “I don’t mean it, and I’m so mean to you all of the time but I don’t mean any of it. I told everyone your secret because I wanted to—” she hiccups, and she pushes her glasses to the top of her head. “I wanted to give you your own version of what the Phantom Thieves did for me, but I reached out to you guys back then. No one forced me to do anything, but I took that choice away from you.”

He pulls her in his arms, and her tears are hot even through his shirt. “I know, Futaba,” he says, patting her head. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

She hits his chest weakly. “Me taking care of you?” she sniffs. “I’m literally the one crying right now.”

“Just for now though,” he shrugs. “Next time I cry, you’ll be the one handing me tissues, I swear.”

They stand there, the two of them standing in the middle of Sapporo while people give them weird looks—Futaba, unable to stop the tears from flowing down her cheeks, and Ryuji, refusing to ever let his emotions make things worse for everyone else again.

—

When they get back to the RV, each of them emotionally exhausted, Ryuji goes to kiss the top of Akira’s head. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Akira looks up from his card game with Morgana and Sophia. “You look like you had a wild night. Ann take you all somewhere fun?”

“Totally,” he says, sliding the letter back in his backpack. “Best night ever.”

“Take me next time. Sophia’s kicking our ass.”

“She is not!” Morgana denies, tail swishing. “Just a little,” he relents.

“I’m gonna get ready for bed,” Ryuji announces, hiking his backpack on his shoulders and heading out, before running into Ann outside.

“Oh my god,” she says, disturbed. “He really, really doesn’t know.”

“Yup,” he moves past her. “And we’re keeping it that way.”

#p5 #p5s #mine #fic tag #plainly in truth #ryuji sakamoto #akira kurusu #akiryu #pegoryu #ann takamaki #futaba sakura #persona 5 #persona 5 strikers #chapter three! *thumbs up*

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puckmeupfam · 3 years

Text

Sap | Jeff Skinner

Word Count: 2287

Note: My autumnal aesthetic piece that I started in July. Title is based on the fact that this is entirely fluff without plot, and because it takes place in the Northeast with references to maple syrup, cider donuts, and leaf-peeping.

Zipping your newly packed suitcase and pulling it off the bed, you heard the front door open signaling that Jeff arrived home from practice. It was a rare time when he had the weekend off. No games, no practices after the one he just finished, just free time which he chose to devote to spending with you. The two of you loved going on short trips whenever possible to escape the monotony of work and grocery shopping and Buffalo. Honestly, you could spend the weekend in Lackawanna and be happy as long as you were with Jeff. This particular weekend was special because it was now solidly fall. The temperatures were dropping. The leaves were changing. Swimsuits were being swapped out for sweaters. And golf was being replaced by hockey.

You had spent most of the summer in Markham. Coming from a smaller family, you were always enamored by Jeff’s. At this point, you honestly considered them to be your family, too. You loved talking to Jillian about her time in law school or asking Ben about his hockey career in Germany. It was also hilarious to watch the five siblings tease Jeff about his competitiveness or on-ice gaffs, but he was always a good sport about it and just laughed with bright red cheeks. You knew how much it meant to Jeff when he got to spend time with his family and experience that warmth and joy. The both of you were incredibly lucky that Buffalo isn’t too far away, but with his schedule, the uninterrupted summer was extra special.

As you were lost in your thoughts, you missed Jeff coming up the stairs and into your shared bedroom. His arms wrapped around your waist and his face found its way into the crook of your neck. The action brought an unconscious smile to your face as you leaned back into him.

“Whatcha thinking about?” he asked you, voice muffled against your skin as he lightly swayed. You shrugged in response, “We should probably get Andrea a birthday gift while we’re gone, something nice you know? Show we were thinking about her.” Jeff hummed in response. He rocked the two of you a bit before speaking, “Are you ready to leave?” You took a deep breath, inhaling his cologne. Turning your body to look him in the eye you smiled softly, “Almost,” you whispered, “we should probably get going before they decide they need you to individually kiss each fan.” This elicited a booming laugh from Jeff that you felt throughout your body, “The only person I’m kissing is you.”

After another minute of contentment, you shuffled him away from you to grab some chargers and last-minute necessities. He chuckled as he started pulling your suitcase down to the car, he knew how much you were looking forward to this trip. You had spent the last week researching and talking about all the spots you wanted to visit while you were away. Grabbing your purse and hoisting it over your shoulder you did a last-minute sweep of the house to make sure that everything was unplugged and you weren’t leaving candles lit or stovetops on. After your anxieties were quelled you went outside and joined Jeff in the car. He had already put your B&B into the GPS and he flashed you a large grin which you eagerly matched as he pulled out of the driveway.

This trip the two of you were going to Western Massachusetts. It was about a five and a half hour drive, probably longer since you knew you would be stopping for lunch and every state park that came your way. You synched your phone and started playing music, knowing that you had a playlist with the perfect ambiance. Jeff always teased you for making playlists for every mood, weather pattern, task, or aesthetic that came in your head. But when the soft chords came through the speakers and his fingers started a gentle tap against the steering wheel to the beat, you knew that it was appreciated.

In Buffalo, the weather was just cool enough that the seat warmers got turned on but not yet so cold that you were shivering. You were cruising down the highway, close to crossing city lines. When you glanced over at Jeff he had a small smile, like he wasn’t even thinking about it. Just watching the road with an underlying well of happiness. You took a minute to look at him, to take him in. His smile turned out to be infectious and you knew your face was probably spread with a dopey grin.

“You’re staring,” Jeff said, breaking the silence.

“You didn’t even look over. How would you know?” you complained.

“I could feel your stare,” he responded, looking over at you with a grin that took over his whole face. His statement made you burst out laughing. While the whole thing was funny and, you were sure that he really did get that weird feeling you get when someone’s looking at you, it made you think about how you were always so aware of each other. The two of you could be in a crowd of people at some Sabres bruncheon and someway somehow you could always glance up and see him already looking at you. Or when you would go to some team party, you always had a tendency to reach for each other’s hands at the same time.

“You would stare at you too,” was your response after you had realized that you went a few beats too long just staring into space.

It was Jeff’s turn to laugh, “what does that even mean?”

“It means,” you started, drawing out the word, “that you’re cute and potentially the embodiment of sunshine and everyone would stare at you if they could and I will simply not defend myself further.”

Jeff rolled his eyes at your dramatic tone and faux-seriousness. He swung his arm out over to you, holding it in the air until you grabbed his hand in both of yours. You pulled his hand into your lap and leaned further back into the passenger seat. Turning your head to the side to watch the city escape, your eyes unfocused and your brain turned to elevator music as your temple rested against the window. After a few minutes of contented silence, Jeff’s hand made its way to your thigh and squeezed, drawing your attention.

“Look at the leaves, babe,” he told you. The passing trees were dotted with warm-colored leaves of crimson, tangerine, marigold, and honey. It was absolutely gorgeous and seemed like a sign that your trip was only going to get better. You stared in awe for about a mile before you looked back at Jeff. His eyes flickered from the road to your face and the look he gave you, full of love and peace, made you feel so warm.

“They’re so pretty,” you said softly. You moved your hand to twine your fingers together and you watched his dimples come out in full force as he forced his eyes to stay on the road. After a few moments of contentment, you spoke again, “do you want me to tell you about the plant pigments that make these colors possible?”

Jeff chuckled, but you knew that your joke didn’t ruin the moment or anything else that you might think if you were talking to someone else. Because Jeff knew you, he loved you. He loved your bad jokes, your stories that you’ve already told him multiple times but just like telling again and again, the way you go into lectures to explain things that he had never thought twice about, your urge to talk during movies to comment on the scene or the actor’s personal life. He loved the best parts of you and he loved the worst parts of you. And this moment? Where you feel the light beaming out of your heart. It isn’t the moment. It’s just a moment in a string of hundreds of thousands of moments that you’ll experience with your favorite person.

After about two hours in the car, you were close to Syracuse and decided to stop for lunch. The two of you decided on a cute, local diner. Jeff parked the car and as you stepped out, you stretched your legs to rid yourself of the wobbly feeling from being in a car too long. The sidewalks were made of a red brick and there was a quiet hustle with people walking their dogs and couples going in and out of shops. The two of you walked side-by-side, but right when you were about to reach the door Jeff stepped ahead to hold it open for you. Stepping through you smiled at him and he followed you in. There seemed to be a typical lunch rush, but the restaurant wasn’t crowded. A waitress pointed you towards a booth and you slumped into it as Jeff sat across from you.

You both ordered coffees before cracking the menu open to see what they had. The pages were lined with different sandwiches, egg dishes, pancakes, and all the typical diner food that you loved. You settled on your order fairly quickly but Jeff scanned the pages until the coffees were brought out and the waitress was asking for your order. Handing her your menu, you explained what you wanted before both of you turned your attention towards your boyfriend.

“Could I have the brownie french toast?��

At that you raised your eyebrows at him incredulously. As the waitress walked away, scribbling your orders down as she went, Jeff looked back at you and laughed at your expression. “Cheat weekend,” was his explanation. He shrugged with an expression on his face like he was being forced to order what was likely the sugariest option on the menu. You threw your hands up to say you weren’t judging. Jeff quickly launched into a story about something Jack did at practice and that filled your wait until the food was brought to your table. Your boyfriend’s eyes widened comically when his food came out. It looked like there had been a blizzard of powdered sugar. It was topped with a whopping pile of whipped cream and a generous amount of rainbow sprinkles, just in case the brownie batter wasn't sweet enough.

Neither of you wasted any time in diving into your food and when you glanced up at Jeff after a few minutes you giggled when you saw that some of that whipped cream had ended up on his nose. You stealthily pulled out your phone to snap a picture of him. Once he heard the click of your camera he looked up at you which reignited your laughter.

“What?” he asked, chuckling lightly with you even without knowing the reason.

Without explaining yourself, you just reached out and swiped the sweet substance off his face before licking it off your finger. His response was just a sharp laugh with rolled eyes, head thrown back a bit at your antics. He knew full well that you were going to tease him for a long time for his choice of ridiculously confectionary lunch. You returned to your food with a shake of your head, but when you turned to take a sip of your coffee you noticed that Jeff had absolutely demolished his plate of french toast and was now trying to collect the remnant of whipped cream with his fork.

“It’s not going to be my fault when you crash from all that sugar,” you told him. He watched you dig your teeth into your lip to try and conceal the smile that was threatening to break through.

“Honestly, (Y/N), I’ve never felt better in my life. The sprinkles fuel me. I think I’ll make this my pre-game meal,” Jeff said with an air of seriousness. Sadly for him, but luckily for you, he had a genetic inability to suppress his smiles. You leaned back in the booth until your head hit the pleather upholstery and kicked your feet up to rest in his lap underneath the table.

“Don’t overwhelm yourself, I’m taking you to the Sugar Shack tomorrow and we’re getting the cider donuts.”

Jeff pulled a shocked and aghast face in response, “How dare you insinuate that I would ever be anything other than thrilled at the very prospect of cider donuts? You know, just because you said that I’m going to get two orders and we’ll see what you say when I eat those and yours too.”

You rolled your eyes so dramatically that you knew, if your mom were there, she would be telling you that they’d get stuck like that. Under the table, you kicked your legs up to rest in Jeff’s lap as he waved his arm to flag down the waitress for the bill. You sat quietly, just watching as he went through the monotony of thanking the waitress and putting his card in the sleeve of the bill. When he looked back at you, he smiled knowing that he caught you staring for the second time that day.

“You ready?” He asked you. A simple question, given that you were on a roadtrip with a predetermined destination. But with the opportunity to just appreciate him and your relationship, without the stress of your schedules or outside influences, it just felt meaningful. There was no one you would rather be with, during the happiest moments of your life or the worst. You felt a little misty with the joy of having him by your side.

“With you? Always.”

Pulling yourself out of the booth, you extended your hand for him to grasp and continued onwards.

#Jeff skinner #Jeff skinner imagine #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #nhl fic #buffalo sabres imagine #j.skinner #based in the fall started in the summer posting in the winter #not proofread #tw food

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