hey :) so i was wondering if you could incorporate 3, 12 and 50 into a single one shot ? bc that would be Amazing but if you don't want you you can just pick whichever haha
challenge accepted !! this was super fun to write thank you !! :^)
3, 12, and 50 for touch prompts: hiding face in neck + pushing a strand of hair behind their ear + putting a hand over the other’s mouth to shut them up
If you’d asked Mike, a few years ago, how he thought he’d end up dying, he’d have a few different guesses. Clawed to death by monsters, maybe, was up at the top of his list for a while there. Shot to death by government agents also made the top five more than once, which was kind of worrying. And it was probably very concerning that getting stomped on, impaled, or eaten by an alien supermonster hivemind was on there at all.
Suffice it to say that he didn’t die in any of those ways, since Mike is currently, in the present moment, alive. But probably not for long. He’s seen some shit, and he hasn’t even graduated college, and maybe it’s a little bit pathetic that after all of that– the monsters and the Russians and the end of the world– that this is how he really dies: backed up against the wall at some completely questionable house party, being flirted with by Will Byers.
At least, that’s what Mike thinks is going on here. If he’s being totally honest, he doesn’t have all that much experience in the flirting department, considering that the one person he’d ever dated hadn’t done much flirting and the one person he had maybe wanted to flirt with hadn’t–
Well, it doesn’t matter. Said person is doing it now, and for all of Mike’s past reminiscence and speculation on the topic, he didn’t think it would be happening like this.
“You look nice tonight,” Will is saying, barely audible over the low thrum of music in the background. They’re not even somewhere particularly loud– the hallway is a blessed reprieve from the chaos of whatever is happening in the living room, but Will’s voice has dropped into something low and intentional. He smiles. “You should wear more green.”
Oh, god. Mike is going to die.
“Uh. Really?” he says, in what’s definitely not a squeak. It comes out assured and confident and–
Oh, who is he kidding? Will’s smile grows, surely delighted at the unfortunate crack in Mike’s voice. He leans in a bit closer, and it’s barely a few inches, but he might as well have just pushed Mike up against the wall and–
“Yeah,” Will whispers, so soft that Mike has to lean in another inch to hear him. He reaches a hand out and runs a thumb along the hem of Mike’s sweater, the side of his wrist brushing softly against Mike’s collarbone. Mike’s heart stops dead, still and unmoving and seized up, right there in his chest cavity. “It’s definitely your color.”
“Oh,” Mike breathes, and yeah.
So Will might be flirting with him, is the bottom line here, and the issue isn’t so much that it’s unwelcome– the opposite, in fact. Mike feels a little bit like if he weren’t caged in by Will’s arm on one side of his chest and the adjacent wall on the other, then his soul might be just flying right out of his body altogether. It feels like maybe it’s already halfway there, because Will’s gaze is steady, eyes sparkling with amusement even in the dim light of the hallway, and wow, are his hands shaking?
For his own sake, he hopes not.
And the issue isn’t that it’s unwelcome, but more so that in all his years of existence and all the crazy shit he’s seen, somehow, being flirted with by Will Byers was lower on the list of things Mike thought might happen to him someday than interdimensional portals or his telekinetically gifted ex-girlfriend.
“You look nice too,” Mike gets out, in a surprisingly even voice. Will does look nice, so this isn’t a difficult sentiment to portray by any means. He’s swapped out one of his usual sweaters, big and worn comfortably around the edges and all down the seams, for something a little more fitted. It’s a soft cream color, and Mike doesn’t know where Will got this, because he’s been shopping at the same stores the entire time since they moved here for school and none of them carry clothes like this. Mature, a little grown up, and really, really attractive.
Will lets out a small, pleased noise. “Yeah?”
“How many drinks have you had?” Mike peers suspiciously down at him, because it’s not like Will is an idiot, per se, or super uptight about these sorts of things, but he’s not usually this– this bold. If Mike is going to be blunt about it, Will has never been this bold before and maybe it’s about time, but that doesn’t mean Mike is any more ready for it.
Not that he’s complaining. Oh, god.
“One,” Will grins. “Why? How many have you had?”
Christ. Mike swallows, and says, “Like, half. It was nasty so I just– um. Left it there. Heads up, by the way, don’t drink the jungle juice.”
“Noted,” Will laughs. It does something to Mike’s stomach, watching the way his shoulders relax, like he’s comfortable and at ease here, standing in front of Mike all up close and personal in a dark corner of a dark hallway with– oh, god– no one around.
“Yeah,” Mike says, kind of lamely, and notices belatedly that his gaze has settled somewhere around the general vicinity of Will’s mouth sometime in the last forty seconds or so. Maybe longer, if he’s being totally honest, but who’s counting, right?
(Mike. Mike is counting.)
“So anyway,” Will continues, without missing a beat. “You look really good in green. I don’t know why you never wear colors.”
“It’s not on purpose,” Mike insists, even though it kind of is, because it’s a lot harder to accidentally look like an idiot if all of your clothes match by default. “I don’t know, I just– I don’t have a reason to?”
“Okay, well,” Will starts, and then he moves forward until their chests are almost flush against each other, and Mike is seriously, seriously backed into a corner, even more than he was before. Both metaphorically and extremely literally. “It looks nice with your hair,” Will murmurs, and reaches a hand up to tug lightly at a strand falling loose around Mike’s face.
Will smells really nice, actually, like the good cologne he wears on special occasions, and Mike doesn’t know why he dressed up so nice to go to a party where you have to scoop your drinks out of a bowl with a red plastic cup, but hey. Again, he’s not complaining.
“My– my hair?” Mike asks faintly, because it’s just his hair, and he hasn’t ever given it much thought before now, because it’s only hair. Black and just long enough to land on this side of inconvenient, but suddenly Will has one hand in it and it’s not just hair anymore, but maybe the best thing to ever happen to him.
Will nods. He looks a little pink, which is quite possibly the most endearing thing Mike has ever seen, and it’s also more of a confidence booster than it probably should be, that Will hasn’t turned into a total smooth-talking Casanova out of literally nowhere. That maybe he’s losing his shit just as much as Mike is right now.
“Yeah,” Will says, and yeah, his voice catches just a little bit on the single syllable, and Mike bites back a pleased smile. “It looks really good with your hair,” he says again, then tucks the loose strand carefully behind Mike’s ear. “So that’s one reason.”
“I hardly think that’s good enough reason to redo my entire wardrobe,” Mike says, egged on just a little bit by the way Will is definitely turning more pink by the second.
“It brings out your eyes too,” Will murmurs, looking steadily up at him. It’s hard to tell exactly what he’s thinking– half his face is drowned out in shadow and the proximity is rendering Mike kind of useless altogether– but Mike thinks maybe he has a guess.
He blinks. “My eyes?”
“Mhm.” Will strokes the pad of one thumb over the skin there, just over his cheekbone. Mike instantly forgets how to breathe. Christ. “They’re pretty.”
“I– are you sure you’re not drunk?”
“Stone-cold sober,” Will assures him. “Why? Who’s asking?”
Me, Mike thinks, me, me, me. What he says is, “Um. Someone.”
Will raises an eyebrow, but he keeps his hand right where it is– resting on Mike’s cheek, thumb under his eye, and oh, god. Mike is going to die.
“Someone?”
“You don’t know him?” Mike tries.
“Shame,” Will says noncommittally, and it sounds like he might be on the verge of laughing again. He steps back, the vacuum-seal proximity between their bodies vanishing in an instant as the air of the room rushes in all at once– stifling, stuffy, a little warm and sweaty and immediately, it’s like the noise in the place has been cranked up to ten.
Was it this loud in here all along?
Mike is going to scream. He’s going to die, right here in the hallway, and then he’s going to scream some more. “Where are you going?” he asks, and it comes out a bit petulant and a bit needy and way, way too thrown off-guard for his liking, but he can’t find it in himself to care. The lingering warmth of Will’s palm against his cheek is something he’s already missing like it’s a physical thing.
“Who’s asking?” Will says again, and dear god, if Mike had known before what it would have been like to be flirted with Will Byers, he would have, like, grabbed a couple witnesses and signed off an early copy of his last will and testament, bequeathed his meager belongings to whomever they may concern, then laid himself down to die in peace.
“Me,” Mike blurts out this time, taking a step forward from the wall and grabbing Will’s wrist. “I’m asking because I think you shouldn’t go and you should just stay here with me and– and flirt with me some more, because, um. That was nice, and I liked that, even if I thought I was going to die for a minute there, and if you go then– um. You can’t flirt with me anymore?”
Will smiles for real this time, wide and shocked and pleased. “Yeah?” And it’s a little shy when he says it, like maybe he didn’t actually expect this to go anywhere, like he didn’t expect Mike to grow a fucking pair and stop melting into the floor long enough to reciprocate.
“Yeah,” Mike whispers, and he’s just started to pull Will back towards him, Will already stumbling a little with the motion, when he hears a voice from around the doorframe they’re currently maybe ten feet away from.
“Mike? Will?”
“Shit,” Will mutters, eyes wide. “What the hell is Max doing here? I thought she was upstairs.”
Mike opens his mouth to answer when a second voice responds, “I swear I saw them go through here,” and it might be Dustin and it might be Lucas but all that’s really important is that whoever it is is close, and Mike doesn’t know if he has the cardiac strength in him to go through all of this again later, and all of his brainpower is currently being used to not pass out on the spot, and–
Lucky for him, Will has his shit marginally more together. “Here,” he’s saying, then there are fingers wrapping around Mike’s forearm and before he can fully process what’s happening, he’s being dragged in the opposite direction. Will throws open a door, then shoves Mike inside.
Mike wrinkles his nose. “It smells like feet in here,” he says, and he can’t see Will’s face because it’s pitch black in– wherever they are– but he’s willing to bet real money that he’s rolling his eyes.
“Coat closet,” Will says simply, “now shut up.”
Okay, yeah, makes sense. There’s something heavy and soft brushing up against Mike’s side, and he takes a couple steps backwards until he can feel the wall behind him. God, okay. This is fine. This is fine. This is–
“You know,” Mike says, as if this will distract him from his unnecessarily sweaty palms, “you didn’t have to ambush–”
Quick as lightning, Will claps a hand over Mike’s mouth. “If you want to kiss me,” Will hisses, and, okay, he’s pressed up against Mike again, which is fine, it’s great, actually– “I’m going to need you to shut up.”
The footsteps come closer. Mike holds his breath. He thinks maybe Will is too because he can’t hear him breathe, and he’s gone tense and still where he’s pressed up against Mike. A voice that’s definitely Dustin’s is grumbling, “Man, if I find them and the taco place down the street is already closed, I’m going to kill him.”
Mike bites back a laugh. The taco place closed twenty minutes ago, which he knows, because he’d been on his way to find Dustin when he’d– when he’d run into Will in the hallway.
Oh, god.
“Are they gone?” Will whispers, as if his hand is not currently over Mike’s mouth. He clears his throat like hello, and Will drops his hand. “Oh. Right. Sorry.”
“Who said I wanted to kiss you,” Mike says hoarsely, and Will’s hand pauses somewhere between his collarbone and sternum.
“Well,” he hears Will say, still entirely invisible in the dark save for a few dots of faint light coming in through the slats in the door. “You don’t have to kiss me. If you don’t want to.”
For the first time all evening, Will sounds a little hesitant. No, Mike thinks. He can’t have that. He shakes his head, even though Will can’t see him. “Let’s not be too hasty here, okay, I didn’t say that.”
A pause. “Yeah?” Will says, a little shy, almost. “You want to kiss me?”
Screw it.
“I do,” Mike says, as earnestly as he can find in himself to muster up, and he hears Will breathe in sharply somewhere in front of him. “I really, really want to–”
To Will’s credit, kissing in the dark probably wouldn’t work out for anybody. Mike is a few inches taller and the angle is a bit off, and it’s pretty impressive, if he’s being honest, that Will’s mouth lands mostly on his. Which should also not be rendering Mike as totally speechless as it is– being kissed on the corner of his lips in an awkward, clumsily endearing sort of way– but Will has always surprised him. “Shit,” Will says, pulling back slightly, “sorry, I was trying to guess where you were, and I–”
“It’s cool,” Mike hears himself say, and he didn’t mean to say it, but it seems that his brain has sort of kicked itself into autopilot mode, because he’s reaching out before he can really think about what he’s doing. His hand brushes Will’s shoulder, and he moves it up against the side of his neck, and says, hesitating, “Here– let’s try this.”
“Okay,” Will says softly, not even a whisper with how quiet it comes out. Mike drags a hand into Will’s hair, brings the other one to cup his cheek, and slowly, slowly moves forward.
“I’m going to kiss you,” Mike murmurs, tracing a thumb over the curve of Will’s lower lip, grounding himself. “Um. Just so you know that I’m, like, coming in.”
“Okay,” Will says again, and then Mike kisses him.
It’s instantly better this time– so much better, Mike thinks, immediately going lightheaded with the sensation of it. It’s like every other sense is dialed up to eleven in the dark– Will’s hair soft against his hand, the scent of his cologne, the faint taste of orange soda on his lips. The soft, startled noise Will makes in the back of his throat, cut off like it escaped him before he could stop himself, and that thought is enough to make Mike’s stomach swoop in a dizzying sort of way, that Will really wanted to kiss him so badly that he just couldn’t help himself, that maybe he thought about it in all the same ways Mike had. That maybe he came up with a hundred and one ways it might happen and maybe this was a possibility, in Will’s mind– a coat closet in the dark, barely one drink in.
“I can’t see you,” Will says, pulling back so that their lips are just barely brushing against each other. He’s got his hands on either side of Mike’s neck, like he’s anchoring himself lest he drift away entirely in the dark.
Mike lowers his hands, pulls Will in by the waist– the solid planes of his back, the soft fabric of this sweater, this goddamn sweater– and says, “You’re the one that kissed me in the dark, you idiot.”
Will makes a small noise of affront. “You’re the one that asked me to,” he says, a little smugly, which technically isn’t the most true statement, but Mike supposes that he had kind of set himself up to be kissed, so maybe he should let this one slide. And then Will runs a thumb along to his chin, tilts his face down, slowly, slowly, and kisses him again– and Mike can’t remember what exactly it was he was protesting.
Maybe Will had been onto something, because Mike is pretty chuffed about not being able to actually see the person he’s kissing, especially when that person is Will, who Mike spent a disproportionate amount of time wanting to look at even before this whole thing went down, but this is pretty nice for now, he thinks, as Will presses him a little more firmly into the wall. And that’s also nice, because Mike thinks he might be dying, and the solid parallel weights of the wall behind him and Will in front of him might be the only thing keeping him from keeling over entirely.
“Okay,” Mike says, pulling back, which is nowhere close to his top ten most intelligent moments of all time. Or even twenty, maybe. “You–”
The rest of the sentence gets lost to the sands of time, because the door is flying open so fast that Will flinches, and Mike tightens his grip around his waist on instinct. “What–”
“Oh,” Max Mayfield is saying, arms crossed. “This is where you two disappeared to.”
Mike closes his eyes, and prays to whichever higher power might be listening for a rapid, painless death.
Nothing happens. Figures.
“Come on, man,” he hears Dustin say, “we were looking for you guys!”
“We know,” Mike says, and then immediately wants to sink through the floor and disappear at the way his voice cracks, just a little. It’s barely noticeable, really, but his friends are like sharks in blood-infested waters. Lucas’ smug grin grows so wide that Mike considers just leaning over and smacking it off his face.
“Oh,” he says, far too gleefully for Mike’s liking, “so is this what you meant by I’m going to go look for Dustin, Mike?”
“Didn’t realize I took up residence near Will’s tonsils,” Dustin grumbles.
Will groans, dropping his head to Mike’s shoulder. “Never talk about my tonsils again,” he mumbles against Mike’s collarbone, but he’s smiling. Mike can tell, even if he can’t see him.
“Not even if they’re inflamed?”
Will doesn’t pull away, just shakes his head and tightens his arms where they’re wrapped around Mike’s neck. Despite himself, despite the way his face feels about a million degrees warm right now, Mike smiles. “No,” Will says simply. “All of you go away.”
“Yeah, I bet you want us to,” Max says, “but I’m serious. We gotta go. Someone just threw up on the couch and it’s nasty in there.”
Mike wrinkles his nose. “Way to kill the mood.”
“Mission accomplished,” Max says, and wiggles her car keys in the air. “I’m leaving in five, with or without you.”
“I don’t want to stay here with the puke sofa,” Mike admits, pulling away with no small amount of reluctance. “So we should probably–”
“Yeah,” Will agrees, pressing a kiss to Mike’s cheek. “Now come on. I want to be able to see you when I kiss you this time.”
It’s a good thing the hallway is still dark, because Mike goes very, very red.
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Ik it's been awhile since I have dropped a HC on you, but consider: Akira doing some unnecessarily dangerous stunt in the Metaverse and feeling so proud of himself... and then he's shocked when the team gets angry/worried that he risked his own safety like that.
"Guys, it's fine, only I would have gotten hurt!"
And then they just get even angrier and he's confused and startled they're so worked up about it. He's not used to people worrying about him.
omg june, hi!!! aaa i yelled when i saw your user pop up, hope you're doing well!!
your brainworms are angsty as ever and oh how i love it
i'm such a believer in the akira-is-passively-reckless-about-his-own-life concept, you'll have to rip it from my cold, dead hands
considering the in-game clues we get about how he's not great about keeping himself well-fed and has an automatic tendency to throw himself aside for the sake of other people's safety, akira's probably got a huge lack of self preservation to add to that (maybe even, a complete lack of care for his own wellbeing) (i'm absolutely blaming his home life for this)
which works well enough for someone in a leadership position, he'd make sacrifices for others very easily and yeah!! he's just so used to not putting himself into consideration- he doesn't even think about his own safety. nobody else ever has, so why should he?
it trickles into everything he does. the last healing item goes to a teammate, whatever funds he makes from part-time jobs goes into the phantom thieves (nevermind that he's living on sojiro's patronage curry and instant noodles, that's unimportant, he's unimportant), he offers unconditional support and a listening ear to every confidant he meets, and helps them with all their problems- even if it is to his own detriment. on the battlefield against a new enemy, joker will do his best to find the weakness- because if they repel anything, at least then he carries the brunt of the backlash. it's natural, instinctive, and therefore he sees no wrong in it.
and for a long time, he gets away with this reckless abandon for his own safety.
except he goes a step too far, maybe he decides to distract another hoard of shadows on his own? or makes what should be an impossible zipline move to cross to the other side of a chasm. against a rampaging enemy, he throws himself in the firing line.
after months of excusing the passing recklessness, this is a step too far for the phantom thieves.
when they're reunited with joker, he's not greeted by praise for his dramatic flourish, or impressed and spirited cheers for carving a path deeper into the palace, but instead worried frowns and scolding reprimands. flurries of hands which search for his injuries and want to heal, and he doesn't need it he's fine-
and oh you're so right it would hurt so much because akira would be so confused by their concern!!
at first, he probably assumes they're talking about anything but him. did he accidentally break a treasure on his landing? for some reason, had the thieves not wanted that shadow hurt? what was it this time, what had he done wrong- because he had to have done something wrong he always does something wrong, eventually
when it gets through to akira that no, they're worried about his safety the boy blue-screens there and then.
it's not something he's ever been used to- care, affection....attention. nobody's cared enough to look close enough before, and suddenly akira doesn't know what to do with this worry, with this obvious sign that people care about him, that someone values akira kurusu....he's in a bit of a fugue as the diarahan washes over him, so much do he can't even scold what he'd deem an unnecessary use of energy
they call it a day in the palace not long after.
learning to value your own life isn't something that's easy, but akira's surrounded by people who care about him now- they can be patient. this time, they're taking the lead to help akira, not the other way around.
maybe makoto challenges him to find a more safe plan, that doesn't involve reckless action. ryuji helps him be more open about his feelings. ann teaches akira how to appreciate himself. futaba shows him how to trust in what people promise. yusuke guides him through self-appreciation in his own, artistic style. haru helps akira define himself, outside of the parameters his parents set for him. morgana stays at his side through it all.
in their own way, they'll help akira find some self-worth, and hope to see the fruits of their labour in akira guarding a bit more often in battle, turning to his teammates instead of charging in headfirst and bearing the weight of shadows' attentions himself. they'll wait patiently for the day he asks for help, and be proud when he does.
for now, they'll accept the occasional willingness to head back to a saferoom, or retreat from battle. they'll mentally cheer when he uses one of their few healing items to patch a gash in his side. it's all about the small steps.
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╰┈➤ SHUFFLE AU
DESTINATION POINT (DP)
the Leo/need adjacent unit, composed of Ichika Hoshino, Airi Momoi, Ena Shinonome, and Minori Hanasato.
☆ a girl who's lost her friendships, and three others searching for their worth.
about the group's name:
♡ originally, i had "from here to there" in mind, but someone from the Discord gave me the name "destination point" and i thought it was much better, so i went with that. ♪
about the SEKAI:
♡ the Train SEKAI. no one knows when it left, or where it's going - just that it never stops. it's the perfect place for those who feel like they're lagging behind. just close your eyes and let yourself be carried away, right? but maybe there's something you can do…
starts with a Miku and a Rin. the former's hardworking and talented, but the latter struggles - Rin is somewhat influenced by Ena's (and, to a lesser extent, Airi's) jealousy towards others.
•
Ichika hasn't managed to rekindle her friendship with her friends, and she's not doing particularly well. At one point, she meets Airi - who just quit being an idol. The two start talking and become friends, at which point they end up forming a band together. Airi wants to try finding a place where she could finally be taken seriously.
Ena's invited by Airi, and Minori - who had failed auditions recently - ends up inspired by Ichika's kindness, Airi's drive and Ena's determination, which is how she joins. (Haruka completely gave up on being an idol; something Minori is saddened by.)
In my mind, Ichika plays the guitar; Airi, the drums; Minori, the keyboard and Ena, the bass.
-
IDEAL HEAVEN! (IH)
the MORE MORE JUMP! adjacent unit, composed of Mafuyu Asahina, Emu Otori, Mizuki Akiyama and Shizuku Hinomori.
☆ an up-and-coming idol group that combines cuteness and sophistication.
about the SEKAI:
♡ quite similar to the Empty SEKAI, but with some idol influences - a broken stage with no one in sight. there's no bright lights, no colorful props. nothing. that SEKAI both comforts and pains Mafuyu.
home to a lone Miku. sweet, hopeful, but genuinely crushed by the pressure she's feeling.
•
Mafuyu's mother wants a perfect child. idols are very frequently represented as being perfect - so, she decides that her daughter should become one, too. Mafuyu's not keen on the idea, but that's her mother; she's obedient, so she goes along with it.
Shizuku still quit Cheerful * Days, but instead of stopping altogether she ends up with Mafuyu. Emu wants to make people smile, but no one ever came; Wonderlands × Showtime was never a thing. so she decides to become an idol instead, even if it means she'll never bring back the Wonder Stage to its former state.
Mizuki's half-dragged into IDEAL HEAVEN! by Emu, who saw them looking with interest at idol merch. after bringing them to meet Mafuyu and Shizuku, Mizuki ends up accepting - the idea of wearing cute clothes and being called cute doesn't seem too terrible.
-
READY MADE SUCCESS (RMS)
the Vivid BAD SQUAD adjacent unit, composed of Haruka Kiritani, An Shiraishi, Shiho Hinomori and Akito Shinonome.
☆ two street musicians chasing after their dream, and the two girls they brought with them.
about the SEKAI:
♡ the Street SEKAI. weirdly, it seems Haruka's idol background has somewhat influenced its appearance.
its inhabitants are Miku, Meiko and Len. this Miku is levelheaded, but it seems like there's something holding her back from going all-in...
•
after quitting being an idol, Haruka is invited by An to join her.
An's never met Kohane, and she never found a partner. Haruka is hesitant for a moment before deciding to give it a shot, though she keeps struggling with singing.
Shiho tries getting more experience, meets Akito. no one really knows how these two ended together, but they both have a similar drive and take music very seriously.
eventually, they all start working together. Haruka deals with her guilt and, while she doubts she'll become an idol again, she's mostly made peace with what happened.
-
STARLIGHT ☆ EVERMORE (S ☆ E)
the Wonderlands × Showtime adjacent unit, composed of Tsukasa Tenma, Saki Tenma, Kanade Yoisaki and Toya Aoyagi.
☆ a strange troupe of people who aim to help others through their performances.
about the SEKAI:
♡ still very much Tsukasa's, so it's the Wonderland SEKAI. [kanade goes there for the first time and dies. alas, they're still a shut-in and this place is simply too colorful for her poor eyes.]
starts with a Miku and a Kaito, though this version of the former uses far less onomatopoeias.
Tsukasa figures he needs to show the world how much of a star he is himself, and he drags his siblings into it (with varying degrees of willingness).
a part of Saki still wishes she could be in a band with her friends; she's only somewhat managed to repair her friendship with Ichika. but she's still happy to do something fun and lighthearted after all her struggles.
Toya's very excited to do something with Tsukasa and his siblings. he also gets to stick it to his dad, which, honestly - is a bonus.
out of the three, Kanade is obviously the most hesitant about the whole thing. but she sees Tsukasa's drive to make others happy, something she shares with him, so she ends up agreeing.
Kanade is… slightly healthier physically on account of the stubborn people looking after her, as well as all the exercise she does she does as part of Starlight ☆ Evermore. mentally? eh… we'll get there. i need her traumatized to be interesting. <3
-
LONELY SYNDROME (LS)
the 25-ji, Nightcord de. adjacent unit, composed of Nene Kusanagi, Rui Kamishiro, Honami Mochizuki and Kohane Azusawa.
☆ hidden behind avatars, these citizens of the web tell stories online.
about the SEKAI:
♡ the arcade SEKAI.
this Miku is shy and withdrawn, though she one day hopes she'll be able to break out of her shell, just like Nene.
alongside her is Luka - she has a bit of a teasing attitude and a catlike personality, but she always does her best to boost Nene's confidence.
about the group's name:
♡ syndrome refers to a group of symptoms - i paired it with the word lonely because i felt like it represented the atmosphere of an arcade.
you're connected with people who share your interests, but at the same time, you're sort of separate from them. surrounded by people, but utterly alone…
•
Nene's social anxiety hasn't gotten better over the years. since she never joins Wonderlands × Showtime, she doesn't learn how to fight her stage fright.
but, she finds an alternate solution; using an avatar online. it's less stress-inducing, and it lets her pursue acting, in a way - it's not what Nene wants, but it's close enough. she figures she could be satisfied with that.
Rui ends up figuring out what she's doing, and asks if he can help. Nene doesn't really have any reason to say no, so they start working together.
as for Honami and Kohane, they ended up on Nene's channel by pure accident. but her performances quickly became a comfort to them, since they were struggling at the time (the former because she no longer had her friends, the latter because of her lack of confidence).
unfortunately, ignoring your problems only goes so far, and eventually, her feelings give birth to the arcade SEKAI.
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