#fluff*

Off to his left is a crudely constructed platform plastered with a rainbow of garish, neon poster boards and leftover Valentine’s Day decorations. It proclaims itself a KISSING BOOTH in horrendous block lettering, but it’s one sign in particular that catches Levi’s attention:

KISS THE SOCCER TEAM - $10

how have i never written kissing booth fic before?

ereri. au august. 3.8k

“Damn, these things have gotten fancy since we graduated,” Hanji says with a low whistle as they survey the public-park-turned-school-fair that surrounds them. At least, it’s supposed to be a school fair. It looks a lot more like a carnival to Levi, only instead of seasoned carnival workers running things, it’s high school students.

“Wouldn’t be surprised if they used all the money they make to fund this,” Levi responds flippantly, his eyes casting around with little interest. He’s already exhausted from all the noise and the people and the heat. Long sleeves had been a poor choice.

“That would certainly explain why our prom was so shitty,” Hanji comments thoughtfully, and Levi just hums noncommittally in response. After all, it’s not like he went to prom.

A string of children run past them, screaming and looking particularly sticky. A trailing balloon nearly smacks him in the face and Levi scowls.

“Let’s just find my sister and leave.”

5. “This is the opposite of what I told you to do.”

Shirabu always got what he wanted, but this. This was not something he’d ever thought he’d see in his life. 

“Shigeru,” Shirabu started, staring at the mess his bedroom had become. “What is this?” 

The way Yahaba smiled at him, as though he were a son of God who could do no wrong pissed him off. He’d only been gone for an hour, how on earth did this happen? 

“I was looking for a blank piece of paper.” 

Shirabu felt his eye twitch and briefly wondered if he would regret breaking up with his boyfriend over something like this. He might later, but at that moment it was very tempting. 

“This is the opposite of what I told you to do,” he settled for saying, picking his way across the bedroom. 

His school books were everywhere, the loose leaf paper he’d started to use for his notes littered from one corner to the other. How Yahaba had managed this was beyond him. By all accounts, there was no way he could’ve messed the room up so quickly. 

“You mean when you told me to study on your bed, you didn’t want me to go through your desk for paper?” 

The innocent way that he said those words would have fooled just about anyone else into forgiveness. Not Shirabu though. He was far too used to his idiot of a boyfriend trying to get him riled up. 

“Shigeru. You are going to help me clean this all up. Now.”

“Or what?” Yahaba laughed, a devilish smirk settling on his features. 

“No kisses for the rest of the year.” 

Yahaba looked like he might protest, something like ‘you wouldn’t be able to do that’ probably crossing his mind. He would withhold kisses if he said he would. He could hold a grudge. 

“Fine, I’ll help clean your dumb room,” Yahaba sighed. 

Shirabu smirked. He always got his way eventually. 

The summer heat taunted Ashton as he squirmed lower into the lawn chair that was shaded uselessly by your garage. You snickered at his whines but continued to paint your toenails, tongue sticking out in concentration. Ashton’s nose crinkled up with the combination of humidity and whatever chemicals were in your nail polish, and he let out a long sigh of annoyance. Three whole days into the summer after graduation and he was already bored out of his mind. His mother had told him to take a road trip like she did after her high school graduation, but he had quit his job only three weeks before and was running out of gas money. 

You were the one who suggest he come over that day. He was fully expecting to do something fun, not watch you meticulously paint your toes in the summer haze. Ashton wished he had a pool, or enough money to drive to the community pool, but instead he was stuck in your garage. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to spend time with you, especially since you’d be leaving for college in a few months, it’s just—he hadn’t had a haircut in awhile and the heat was really getting to him. 

“Baby,” he whined, tossing his head back dramatically. “It’s so fucking hot, can’t we go inside?” 

Pursing your lips, you shook your head. “Dad doesn’t like the smell of nail polish, and you’re still technically not allowed in my house without him home, remember?” 

“I promise not to leave noticeable hickeys this time!” 

“Sorry babe,” you moved your foot outwards and wiggled it around as you looked at the sparkles. “I don’t make the rules, I just follow them.” 

“Bullshit,” Ashton scoffed. “You snuck out three weeks ago so we could makeout in my car.” 

“I didn’t sneak out,” you defended. “I told him we were going to see a late night showing, which we did, then we made out. Big difference, Ash.” 

Ashton whined again, leaning so far in his seat he ended up on the ground. He let out a sigh when the cold concrete hit the back of his thighs, then he lifted his shirt up and rolled over so his stomach receiving a break from the sweat dripping down his chest. You turned up the music louder as you began to pain the other foot, and Ashton managed to make his way over to your chair. He sat up and situated himself between your legs, kissing your inner thigh, before turning around as you positioned your legs away from Ashton. 

He grabbed his drum sticks and began to drum to the beat of whatever song was playing. But that soon lost its appeal when the song ended and the smell of your polish started to burn Ashton’s nose. “Is it even supposed to smell like that? I think you’re buying bad polish.” 

You ignored your boyfriend’s comment, making him sigh loudly again. He put his hands around your thighs and began to drum against them like he had did to the concrete before. Again, you ignored him. He groaned, leaning his head back against your chair so he could see your face. He smiled when your eyes flickered to his. Ashton began to poke lightly at your thigh, watching the skin jiggle in a small wave at the force of his finger. After he kissed the spot he poked, he did it again but it a different spot. He watched for a reaction but got nothing. 

All over your thighs he poked in search for a reaction, then moved to your other leg to do the same. When he still didn’t receive a response, he mumbled, “I’m not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention.” 

He twisted his body around so he was facing your stomach, and proceeded to poke the skin that was showing from your crop top. You didn’t say anything. “Pay,” poke. “Attention,” poke. “To me!” Double poke. Finally, you smiled at him and let out a giggle.

“There’s that smile.” 

“I’m almost done. Why’re you so bored?” 

“I wanna do something!” 

“Like what?” 

He smirked and let out a mischievous giggle. “You.” 

Rolling your eyes at Ashton, you paint your last toenail and stand up. “My dad gave me some money last night. Wanna get some lunch?” 

“Then can we makeout?” 

“God,” you groaned. “You’re so insufferable. C’mon lets get food, then we can makeout after a few minutes cause I don’t want your gross mouth near mine after you eat.” 

“Shut up,” he laughed, wrapping his arm around you and kissing the top of your head. “For the record, you love my mouth.” 

“And for the record, Ashton,” you beamed, “you’re an idiot.” 

Ashton smiled and hugged you tightly to his chest before placing a kiss to your mouth. “Only an idiot for you, baby.” 

Mini golfing is nothing like kicking rocks off the unfinished apartment buildings downtown, and Levi immediately regrets all of his life choices.

it’s only been 8 days since valentine’s day, I totally made it right? this was meant for week one of @ererievents​ ereri month of love, but I missed it by this much. (valentine’s day is a theme, right???)

ereri. 5.8k. [ all my ereri fic ] [ my ko-fi ]

“Do you want to go mini golfing with me?”

Levi’s boot swings past the rock he was intending to kick with so much force that he nearly topples backwards.

He stares at his target for a few silent moments, and then slowly glances over at Eren. He’s nearly curled into a ball at the edge of the rooftop, six inches and eleven stories from imminent death, staring at Levi over the cross of his folded arms.

“What?”

Eren pillows his cheek against his forearm, and the smile he cracks is so small it could hardly be considered a smile at all.

“Do you want to go mini golfing with me?”

wowza, did this fic get out of hand. but I wrote a Christmas fic! after Christmas! xD but you know what, I also managed to squeeze in one last fic before the year ended so… hurray. thank you for the baking prompt, Seri, even if it did require a lot more researching than inititally expected.

still can’t get this ‘posting to tumblr’ thing to work out, so… my bad.

hearts, stars, and snowflakes

Victor hasn’t made cookies with his grandmama in a decade, but helping Yuuri in his own Christmas cookie tradition pulls at the same heartstrings.

gen/victuuri. babysitter!victor. 5.1k

“So what kind of cookies are we making?” Victor asks as he follows Yuuri into the kitchen. “The chocolate chip kind you scoop out of a tub? Oh! Or maybe those ones with the reindeer printed on them that you just put on a baking sheet?” His voice tips up, marginally hopeful. In the near-nine months that Victor has been (for lack of a better word) babysitting Yuuri, they’ve never done anything like this. Sure, Yuuri has attempted to teach Victor how to assemble a bento, and they’ve made meals together on several occasions, but mostly they build forts ad watch movies and play board games. They don’t bake.

Probably because Victor is horrible at it.

The look Yuuri gives him over his shoulder is far more scathing and judgemental than anything a 12-year-old should be able to cook up. But then again, Yuuri isn’t 12 anymore—he’s been 13 for a few weeks now. It seems a little more practical for a 13-year-old (although babysitting a teenager feels anything but).

“We’re making Christmas cookies,” is how Yuuri chooses to answer, and—if the bag of flour and the large stand mixer sitting on the counter is any indication—Victor surmises there is nothing prepackaged about it.  

“Oh, for… Santa?” Victor asks, cautiously. Sure, Yuuri is a little old to believe in Santa, but Victor certainly isn’t going to be the person that destroys that innocence.

Yuuri looks at him with furrowed eyebrows.

“No?” He frowns. “I don’t… Believe in Santa anymore,” he continues, just as cautiously, as if he’s letting Victor down in some way by admitting this. He bites his lip and gives a little shrug, the way he tends to when he’s feeling shy about something. “They’re for Mari.”

13. “Kiss me.”

[ send me a # & a ship ] [ all my victuuri fic ] [ my ko-fi ]

There are, ultimately, a million different things that have culminated in this exact moment. If anything, perhaps Yuuri should have seen it coming. Should have known that he was balancing on the edge of a knife, pressing his luck far further than he ever should have dared. He is Icarus and he flew too close to the sun, and now he’s going to die.

…okay, well, maybe he’s not going to die, but it certainly feels like he is.

The thing is, the thing is, that Yuuri never meant for it to get this out of hand. It’s not even like Luke is a particularly bad guy, and maybe if Yuuri wasn’t completely and utterly emotionally unavailable, he’d go out on a date with him. But it doesn’t seem fair to get somebody’s hopes up like that, not when Yuuri knows nothing would ever come of it because he’s kind of in love with somebody else and the whole moving on using other people thing just… Hasn’t worked for him in the past.

So yeah, Luke isn’t a bad guy, he’s just persistent, and no matter how many times Yuuri had tried to gently turn him down, he always came back for more. It would be like looking in a mirror if Yuuri ever actually had the courage to pursue his own feelings.

(Which he hasn’t. Ever. There’s far, far too much at stake.)

And so it is a moment of complete desperation, when Luke is asking him out for what feels like the hundredth time and Yuuri has run out of ways to say no, that he just—he just says the worst possible thing he could ever say.

“I’m seeing someone.”

And because Luke isn’t a bad guy, he drops it.

And because Yuuri is a complete idiot, he doesn’t.

“For a few weeks. I should have told you sooner.”

Luke doesn’t press, he doesn’t pry, and yet Yuuri can’t seem to remember how to make his mouth stop moving, a thought barely formed before it’s tumbling past his lips.

Which is why the actual worst possible thing he could ever, in the history of his entire life, say is, “It’s Victor. I’m dating Victor now.”

He doesn’t know why he went that far. He doesn’t know how Luke even believed him. Because Victor might be Yuuri’s best friend, and Yuuri might be impossibly in love with him, but no one in their right mind would ever think they’d actually date.

(Then again, Luke had wanted to date Yuuri, so maybe he isn’t in his right mind).

And Yuuri had known, from that moment, that he was the World’s Biggest Fuck-Up, and that if Luke ever told anyone, it could get back to Victor. Victor would know what he said, and would hate him for it. 

Possibly.

Okay, so it’s much more likely that Victor would have just asked why Yuuri had said it in the first place, but Yuuri isn’t sure he could actually explain what happened without also accidentally confessing his undying love.

But somehow, miraculously, nothing happens. Phichit rolls his eyes, and Luke stops asking him out, and Victor doesn’t act any differently. The only thing that changes really is that Luke becomes interested in Yuuri’s fake relationship, and it’s… Stupidly easy, to talk about dating Victor. Even though Yuuri has no experience in the area whatsoever—him and Victor have been friends for years, and Yuuri… Well. He’s thought about it a lot.

So he let his guard drop. Stopped thinking about it. He only had to pretend to be Victor’s boyfriend for one person, and it was… Actually kind of fun. Like pretending at a life he’s always wanted but knew he could never, ever have. And, over time, he forgot about his little white lie. 

Which is probably why he’s panicking, as he watches Luke walk towards him from across the quad.

Towards him and Victor.

Everything, all of it, has all led to this moment. Whatever happens, Yuuri doesn’t want to be here for it.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t have much of a choice.

“Yuuri?” Victor’s hand feels like hot coals on his shoulder. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I—” told this guy we were dating because all I’ve wanted for two years is to be your boyfriend and now I’ve fucked it all up and I don’t know how to fix it, I don’t know what to do, and I want to ask for your help but I don’t think I can because how do I ask for your help without telling you what I did and, oh shit Luke is almost here. “Victor.” Yuuri looks at him, swallows, pressing a hand to his chest. “Kiss me.”

The words are so heavy Yuuri can practically hear them shatter their friendship. Don’t cry. Not yet. Not now.

“Yuuri, what—”

“I’m sorry, I’ll explain later, just—just kiss me. Please.”

And later, later Yuuri will tell Luke how him and Victor broke up. He probably won’t have to fake being heartbroken, either.

And maybe next time Luke asks him out, Yuuri will be able to say yes.

Maybe, maybe this was the only way this could have turned out.

Victor stares at him, mouth slack, and Yuuri seizes every shred of courage in his body and just—kisses him. Holy shit, Yuuri kisses Victor. And even though he knows he’s breaking something that can’t ever be fixed, even though it’s the ending of everything, it still feels like the crescendo in a symphony that’s been building and building and building.

There’s the urge to push it longer, to let it linger, to breathe Victor in and hold him there because Yuuri will never have the chance again—but he doesn’t. The kiss lasts for a few hammering heart beats, and then it’s done. 

The end of a kiss.

The end of their friendship.

Victor’s eyes are closed.

“I’m—” Victor runs his tongue over his lips, and it’s potentially the cruelest thing he could do in that moment aside from physically push Yuuri away. Victor swallows, and Yuuri watches the movement. “I’m sure you have a very good explanation for that, but for now—”

And maybe the most unpredictable thing about this story, the ending that Yuuri never could have planned for, never would have seen, is when Victor leans back in and kisses him again.