#pluto writes

neil perry: this boy can practically sense when you’re in need of comfort. he picks up on the smallest of changes from the way you smile, the way you stand or walk, to the tone of your voice. he won’t push you to talk to him about it, as he wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but when you end up going to him with that look on your face, he pulls you to a secluded area, maybe somewhere outside on the field. neil lets you pour your heart out to him, and not once will he look away from you; even if your eyes are looking anywhere but him. his eyes are full with pure love and understanding, but if you’re rambling like crazy, neil will say your name and gently place his hand on your cheek, making you meet his gaze. he offers up his words of inspiration, wanting to uplift you in any way shape of form, and would also go out of his to make sure you know how amazing you are. he may also pull you into a hug if he feels you need it.

todd anderson: todd’s a very shy person, and i think that can sometimes show when he’s comforting you. i know he has a lot of character development and comes out of his shell, but i still feel like his way of comforting you is spending quality time with you. if he can tell you need some kind of comfort (he can sense it like neil) he’s walking you to a quiet area- whether that’s his shared dorm or some spot on a hill under a tree)- sitting himself down and pulling you down next to him. he lets you talk when you want to, so if you want to talk, he’ll listen intently, occasionally asking questions and making comments. if you’d rather not speak, it’s a comfortable silence; i can see todd being someone very big on physical touch (because he’s quite shy), so he probably pulls you close or lets you lay your head on his lap/shoulder while he writes a poem about you in his notebook.

steven meeks: it takes one look from steven for you to break down in front of him. whether you’re just crying waterfalls or just word vomiting your worries to him, he keeps his calm, letting you do what you need to do; steven knows that keeping stuff bottled up is not healthy, and he also knows that not crying when you’re upset just makes things worse. he grabs your shoulders and pulls you close, asking how long you’ve been keeping it in, if you need some water, etc.. i think he’d take your hand, tells you he has and idea, and takes you on a walk, making occasional conversation about your feelings. he’d make a quick stop to his dorm room before walking you to the rooftop. steven would then proceed to pull out his and pitts radio, fiddling with it before placing the headphones on your head. music drowns out your sadness (he knows that music therapy helps with comforting), and it doesn’t take long before steven starts doing a silly little dance, holding your hand and encouraging you to cut loose (footloose reference).

gerard pitts: oh my pittsie, he’s the absolute sweetest. he’s probably with steven when you approach him, and gerard would (lovingly) ditch him in 0.01 seconds to be by your side. he can be a teensy bit awkward at times, but that doesn’t stop him from absolutely pampering you. i think he would give you his sweater to wear or drapes his blazer over your shoulders while you pour your heart out to him, and would 100% bring you some kind of snack that he knows you like. i actually think gerard is good at comforting, and would tell you it’s valid to feel the way you feel, that it’s okay to be upset; but he will never let you talk badly about yourself, shutting you up in an instance the moment you try to say something bad about yourself. i can see you two lying on his bed or sitting on the floor of his dorm while he informs you of the silly boy shenanigans him and meeks have been up to in order to cheer you up.

charlie dalton: it’s 11:14pm, and there’s a knock at charlie’s dorm door. when he opens it in his half- asleep state to find you standing there, visibly upset, he doesn’t have time to ask anything as you immediately step into the dorm and throw yourself onto him. he’d carefully grab the sides of your face, eyes scanning your face to make sure you’re not harmed in any way. “woah—hey hey hey, what’s wrong?”, “it’s okay, you’re okay.” at that point, charlie’s concern is on you and does not care if he wakes up his roommate. i like to think that he knows how to deal with situations like this, so he might take you outside for some fresh cool air (not without giving you his jumper first to make sure you stay warm). even though charlie definitely cracks a couple of jokes and uses his humour to cheer you up, i think he is very insightful with his words and is probably very good at comforting people in general. from that point on, for the next week or so, he is practically glued to you, making sure you’re feeling okay and doing absolutely anything for you.

richard cameron: the moment you approach cameron to find a sense of comfort, he would usher you into his dorm room and immediately start to ask what or who is making you upset, how it is impacting you, how long you’ve felt like that, etc etc… he becomes a mini therapist and practically takes mental notes on everything. he can’t hide his concern for you and might be a teensy bit pushy (lovingly) if you’re struggling to get your words out. even though cameron might not be the best with words, i feel like he would comfort you by taking some of the stress off of your shoulders; basically acts of service, like for instance if you were worried about something like grades, he would want to help you with that: he may do your homework or give you notes. if he found out some of the students at welton were picking on you and giving you trouble, he might give them a piece of his mind or dob them in to mr nolan.

Hand in dark, wet hand, they walked up to the glitched door together. They agreed on two things currently; the first being that they had to stop Smile from winning, even if they had absolutely no clue if this would even work. The second being that they both, despite their recent arguments, needed to stay together.

Chris allowed Andrew to take the first step towards the blinding light behind the door, following quickly to keep pace with his friend while he squeezed said boy's hand. The poor guy was trembling… Chris should’ve tried harder to be there for him sooner. It’s his fault, all of this. He should’ve—

“Chris,” Andrew spoke in an uncharacteristically stern tone that snapped the damp creature back to reality, “we need to do this now. I feel my… connection to myself getting narrower every second. Count to three?”

Chris nodded. He truly admired Andrew. If he had Andrew’s determination to continue despite everything… would any of this had happened? He wasn’t sure.

Andrew nodded in return, voice breaking as he spoke, “okay, we go at the same time then, alright? I’m- I’m not losing you again if this ends up being a stupid decision.”

Chris's heart (or lack thereof) churned with regret at the sadness in his voice. “Andrew…”

“One,” said man spoke over him with an unmistakable tone of urgency as they stepped closer to the light. It chilled Chris, the reality of this situation, and he spoke along with him.

“Two,” another step.

“Three,” they practically shouted at the same time as they squeezed through the one-block wide door frame. The proximity was… nice. More than nice, it was euphoric to be this close to Andrew. Well… for Chris it was, at least. The other scrunched up his nose in disgust. Ah… must be the unmistakable wet and earthy odor.

“Damn. You smell like shit.”

“Well, you’re not much be-”

The blind light had burned them bright enough to cut them off from their conversation and Andrew woke in his own with a gasp. God, he felt disgusting… but overjoyed! They won! They- wait…

“Chris?!” Andrew shouted as the fear that Chris didn’t make it out with him had settled in his chest. His… chest. Right, it had been a while since he tried to breathe regularly. He should try that again, maybe I’ll slow his heart rate down.

As he attempted to exhale, his right lung felt… numb? That was the best way he could explain it. It felt like it wasn’t there anymore, which couldn’t possibly be true.

“A-Andrew?!” Chris wheezed out, as though just learning how to breathe again. I was followed immediately afterwards by relentless coughing, to which Andrew himself began coughing and… ground water managed to escape him. How?! He hadn’t been in any in real life.

“Chris?! Wh-where are you, buddy?!” Andrew’s tone lightened tenfold as he unconsciously wiped up the water with some of the unused napkins from last night’s dinner on his desk. Wait… no, he didn’t do that… did he? Andrew usually just soaked up spilled liquid with a hoodie sleeve or something of the sort. Oh well, maybe he did do it. Best not to worry about that for now.

“Sorry for the m- wait… huh?!” Chris apologized.

“What?”

“Th-this… this desk, this room, this setup, everything…”

“Get to the point?”

“Andrew, I… think there might have been an error,” Chris spoke wearily, “and I do not know how to say this without it sounding really weird, but… I might be inside you.”

There was a pregnant pause between the two.

“A-as a passenger! Not… you know-” Chris stammered to elaborate on his statement, Andrew’s face turning red and hot due to Chris’s apparent partial control of his body as Andrew chuckled. ‘He's cute when he stutters.’

“Yeah yeah, I know… well, it’s nice to finally be face to face, technically.”

“You’re… okay with it?” Chris asked, tone soft and encompassing, like a warm blanket during winter. Soft, just like his tone years ago when he’d comforted Andrew over the phone. Soft like velvet, almost. God, he missed that sweet, raspy voice. Would it be selfish to admit that he dreamed of a day like this for years, where he could hear it in real life and keep him to himself?

“I can find a solution to-”

“No, don’t,” Andrew muttered.

“Hm?”

Fuck. Okay, how was he going to tell Chris that this was an even better option than meeting in person? That sounds… well, it’d be best to call it what it is, right? “Chris, I- uh- okay, this’ll sound gay but maybe I am gay, so… worth a shot.”

“Cool! Cool! Yeah that’s- that’s great, man!” Chris responded with what Andrew could only imagine was barely concealed glee. Okay, good, they’re in the same boat! Thank god. “That’s- that’s alright by me. Go on, then?”

Andrew opened his mouth to speak, but no sound left him. Pathetic. He groaned and grabbed at his hair with his hand, his left foot tapping against the carpeted floor of his room as if that would quell his increasing heartbeat or the butterflies that threatened to suffocate him from the inside out. “Chris, I- fuck. Goddamnit. Ugh... I'm- I'm sorry.”

“Hey,” Chris whispered shakily as he (or was it Andrew?) exhaled sharply.

Andrew had noticed something new about his friend’s (though the term didn’t seem fitting enough to describe how he felt about Chris anymore) voice, now that it had caught his attention; it sounded just slightly as if the sound of it were traveling through water. It reminded him of summer trips with his family long before he’d met Chris. It was nice to have a memory of water that wasn’t infested with fear of drowning. Or maybe he had always been afraid of it, and nostalgia had just saturated those memories again.

Or maybe—just maybe—his feelings for Chris overrode the fear response in the limbic system of his brain. Maybe he wasn't scared because it was Chris. That would make better sense, considering how said boy acted seconds after the unconscious thought had formed.

Chris raised a hand slowly and purposefully to caress Andrew’s face with their (assumed) shared arm, as if testing for his reaction. Chris would’ve then followed up that action by cradling the man’s face and telling him he’s okay now, just like he wished he could years before everything with the wells began, and even during the time in between then and now.

The computer screen had interrupted both of their thoughts. Minecraft had apparently crashed, and now someone had been throwing a tantrum. Files began opening, error sounds played at maximum volume, and text files containing highly personal information opened and closed.

“What the fuck?!” Andrew shouted. Chris panicked, and, for no apparent reason other than pure primal instinct to protect, yanked his hand away from Andrew’s face and punched a dent into the screen deep enough to break the computer internally.

“Fuck! Andrew, shit… Andrew I’m so sorry, I do not know why I-” Andrew felt his heartbeat racing once more, though he didn’t exactly feel scared. He was more relieved, if anything. ‘Must be Chris feeling it then, I’m guessing? If… that’s how this works.’

Andrew winced at the pain of the impact in their arm and held their hand carefully. “Y’know, not the smartest decision you’ve made,” Andrew began, his heart dropping and throat drying up on Chris’s behalf, “but good reaction speed. Is he dead? For good? And I’ll get a new computer. No worries, okay?”

Chris had gone silent for what felt like forever, the only evidence of him still living somewhere within Andrew’s mind being the trembling hand and whimpering. “Chris, bud? You alright?” Andrew asked as he flexed the knuckles on their shaking hand. He heard (and felt) Chris swallow back his nerves before speaking again.

“You- y-you’re- you’re not mad? I broke your computer, though-”

“And you saved me from being possessed by some angry ghost. Plus, I have you back, better than before- better than ever!”

Andrew forced himself to breathe, to remind Chris to calm down just how Chris would do for him in the past. Chris chuckled nervously, “good-that’s good- thank you for forgiving me, Andrew.”

Chris cleared his throat, “first of all, yes. Yes, I think he is gone for good. Hopefully he is at peace now... secondly, ‘better than ever’? Care to elaborate?”

Oh. The same frog that got stuck in his throat earlier had returned, as he stammered and tripped over his own words again. “You do not have to if you don’t want to-”

“No, just… give me a sec, okay?”

“Alright, take your time, I have nowhere else to be,” Chris hummed. It was that sort of hum that Andrew had known him to use when he realized something during a call. Maybe it was the fact that Chris already apparently knew his answer which quieted his racing thoughts enough for him to speak coherently, or maybe it was courage.

“I’ve- I’ve wanted you to be with me again for so long,” Andrew began, “this- this whole time, I wanted you back, just like old times. I sort of… only recently figured out that I- that I wanted you only recently. I- Chris, you’re everything I wish I was but couldn’t be. You’re a saint, and I’ve wanted to treat you like one. It’s what you deserve, for always being there for me when I needed it most, and…”

Chris inhaled sharply, as though bracing for impact. He and Andrew had both unconsciously intertwined their hands together, though neither seemed to notice it yet.

“Fuck it, you’ve just gotta rip the bandaid off sometimes,” Andrew muttered to no one, “I’m trying to say that I love you. I have since some time after we began playing Minecraft together, I think.”

Chris audibly gasped from within Andrew’s mind, as though nobody had ever spoken such utterly divine, warm words to him in his life. Something about the thought of Chris having never been told this truth tugged at Andrew’s heartstrings, threatening to snap them.

“I-I love you, too. More than you could possibly know,” Chris sighed warmly, voice dripping with such sincerity that Andrew had whined as Chris let go of his hand to move their shared one towards his face. Chris had felt his unkempt stubble on his chin, to which Andrew leaned into the touch like he had been starved of this—like he needed this much more than he wanted it.

Chris’s steady and focused breath was followed by his fingers tracing over corners of the other’s lips, but pulled were away hesitantly.

“Aw, come on!”

“Sorry, I- I wasn’t sure if… or how to- you know…- never mind. I-it is probably too soon to… um-”

Sometimes, Andrew surprised himself. Maybe it was the fact that he’d been so exhausted that he wasn’t quite thinking logically or coherently, but he found himself pulling their right hand back up to where it had been. The surprised ‘eep’ Chris made at the sudden action caused Andrew to smirk and breathe out a silent laugh.

“Like hell it’s ’too soon’, I’ve just been too big of a coward the whole time.”

“If anything, you’ve been far from a coward,” Chris uttered, as though simply stating fact, “I’ve watched you fight for your life, for our lives. Even though I’ve been dead months before you started recording your adventures, you still kept trying to find your way to me since you…”

Chris’s actions stopped dead in their tracks, and Andrew felt his right hand (which had been held against his lips) go ghostly cold, along with most of his body. “Let’s just… not talk about it, okay? I’d like to keep you here with me.”

“Right- yeah,” Chris halfheartedly chuckled, “you are right. I do mean what I said, Andrew.”

Andrew hummed, heart fluttering at each comment. God damnit, did the boy know the right words to say in any situation to make him feel loved. He allowed his hand to release the wrist of his right arm, and Chris’s next object of curiosity happened to be Andrew’s hair. Oh no.

“Ew…” Chris yanked his hand away, wiping it excessively on the boy’s pants, “your hair is disgusting.”

“Wow, what a way to kill the mood,” Andrew scoffed, though he knew Chris was right.

“You need a shower, or to at least wash your hair, if nothing else.”

“I- wait! The water-”

“Will not harm us anymore,” Chris interrupted.

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

END

However, it is late, and you've had multiple conversations with your children about not waiting up for you tonight; one when they had just woken up, another during breakfast, and the last reminder during the car ride to school before dropping them off. They know very well that you had a company event to attend outside of work hours and wouldn't be home until late at night. But still, a small (horrible) part of you wanted them to still be awake, just to hear their cute giggles and feel their tiny, warm hands wrapped around your neck in a tight hug. 

"How'd it go?" Kento asks, closing the lid over the Tupperware filled with tonight's dinner, which looks (and smells) like beef and broccoli stir-fry. You stand in the kitchen with a puzzled look on your face.

Instead of answering his question, you point to the food in his hands. "They ate the broccoli?"

Nanami turns to face you and frowns. "Of course they ate the broccoli."

"What?! They never eat broccoli when I'm around."

"That's only because you don't eat broccoli, honey. You're their hero; they wouldn't even touch chocolate cake if dearest mommy turned up her nose at it."

"Dearest mommy, huh," you repeat after him, a grin slowly spreading across your face. Kento wraps one arm around your shoulders lazily, pulling you into him and pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head.

"They should be asleep—"

"Nice."

"But they're probably not," Nanami finishes. You lean your head back to look at him. The beginnings of a smile dance on the corners of his lips.

You fake gasp. "How naughty."

"Soooo naughty."

"I'll go check on them when I go up there to change my clothes." Kento lets go of you and runs a hand through his hair. Noting the exhaustion on his face, you add, "You should rest now that I'm home. I can pack the girls' lunches for tomorrow too."

He shakes his head. "They're already done, but did you know they're really into star shapes now? It was just hearts last week. I can do hearts. I did hearts like a pro, actually."

"Are stars really that hard to do?" You ask, tongue in cheek.

He shoots you a look. In your husband’s defense, he really did cut hearts into foods like a pro. Every single item that went into the girls’ lunch boxes that could be carved into the shape of a heart, was in the shape of a heart. You always watched Kento from the couch in the living room as he meticulously sliced and diced away to make his girls happy.

You pat your hand across one of his cheeks and coo, "You're the best dad ever, literally." You draw out the word literally, eliciting a snort from Nanami.

"I had to ban that word today."

Now it’s your turn to laugh—your oldest daughter learned the word 'literally' in school this week and hasn't stopped using it since. It's sort of hilarious how she sneaks it into every other sentence. You tilt your head to the side and reply in the most serious tone you can muster, "Thank you because it was literally driving me, literally, insane, literally."

A chorus of giggles erupts from the top of the stairs, followed by a thundering rumble of footsteps descending. The moment in the kitchen, interrupted.

Nanami shakes his head gently and sighs, "Hmm, I wonder if they’re awake."

You grab the back of his neck, yank him closer, and plant a loud kiss on his cheek. "My babies are spoiled like little princesses. They need entertainment to go to sleep, and I am their jester. I bid you farewell."

"You’re going to read them a bedtime story?"

"Yes, I am going to read them a bedtime story..."

"Now? At 10:00 PM? And you call me soft..."

“You are, don’t even start.”

After a beat, Kento says softly, “You're so good to them, you know? They’re so lucky to have you.”

Hearing those words from him stops you in your tracks. They wouldn't mean nearly as much coming from anyone else as they do coming from Kento, simply because he is the best father. 

He’s so patient, and kind, and understanding. He lets the girls wear whatever madness they want, and is completely fluent in their ramblings and mumbles— far better than you. He knows exactly how they like their oatmeal, and memorized the milk to cereal ratio they must have in their bowls or else the world stops for them; he knows exactly what to say when they're feeling upset to calm them down.

He learned how to bake white chocolate raspberry muffins because it’s their favourite. He learned how to do funky hairstyles just because a crazy hair day at their school was on the horizon. He even learned how to patch holes in their clothes instead of telling them not to lay and roll around in the wood chips at the park because he couldn't bear to cut into their fun.

If Kento didn’t know how to do something, he learned. He was always trying. 

To you, your husband is a hard-working, dedicated, outrageously beautiful force of a man.

To your children, he’s nothing short of magic.

“It’s right up here,” Spencer said as they pulled into the parking lot of his apartment building.

“Alight, goodnight then Spence.”

“Actually, Derek, I have a question.”

“Yeah? What is it Spence?”

“W-Well, uh, before I solved the case yesterday you were asking me something, what was it?”

“Oh, uh, it’s stupid,” Derek said, turning away.

“Oh come on, there’s no such thing as a stupid question. Just say it!”

“Alright! Alright, Spencer, would you like to go out dancing with me? Like be all fancy and stuff, not just out to a bar?”

“Sure, I’d love to.” Spencer beamed before thanking Derek for the ride and going to his apartment, unable to conceal his happy stims.

The night of the dance Derek sent Spencer all of the event information and prepared himself for the date. He laid out all of his suits and asked Penelope which would be the best, he wore his best socks, and he even put on the cologne his father used to wear.

He got to the place around fifteen minutes early, scared that Spencer might get there first and not know where to sit, and he waited for him. To his surprise, Spencer arrived right on time.

When he walked in, it was like time stopped. Derek looked up to see him. Spencer’s usually messy bob had been thoroughly cleaned and curled, his brows seemed to have just been waxed, and for a moment Derek caught the glow of his lipgloss in the light. Looking down, Derek saw that Spencer was wearing a sparkly gold dress with a poofy skirt, along with a small black jacket around his shoulders. Derek broke his focus when Spencer waved to him.

Spencer walked over to the table and sat with Derek.

“I hope this isn’t too much of a surprise, I asked Penelope what looked best and she really liked this,” Spencer said.

“Oh, you look absolutely amazing Spence, you really live up to your nickname.”

“Well thank you, Derek.”

Derek explained that the first part of the night would be dinner, and the dancing would be afterwards. They both ordered their food and began talking. Eventually, the conversation got to their exes.

“Wow, I cannot believe how many people in this world can be insane to date! What about you Spence? You have any ex stories?” Derek asked, taking a sip of wine.

“No, I don’t think I’ve ever even kissed anyone.”

“Really now?”

“Yeah, I mean, I was never old enough to date anyone in highschool or college, plus I was always too busy studying or emailing professors to even think about it.”

“Well then, pretty boy, tonight is gonna be a wonderful night for you,” Derek said, winking.

They continued with light conversation for the rest of their meal, drinking wine along with it.

They went up to the rooftop of the building for the dancing portion of the night. Spencer stared in awe at the beauty of the soft lights scattered around the railings, and Derek stared in awe at the beauty of Spencer. 

Slow jazz music started to play and soon Derek and Spencer were holding onto each other as they moved in rhythm to the sound. Derek held Spencer’s waist gently and Spencer wrapped his arms around his neck and brought them closer together.

“So, why here for a first date?” Spencer asked.

“Why not? It’s a perfect night. The sky is clear, the moon is bright, and you are as beautiful as ever. I’m glad I’m here with you, Spence.”

“I’m glad too. But really, you couldn’t possibly have known that all of these things would fall into place so perfectly, so still, why?”

“Because I wanted to do this,” Derek said, pulling them closer than they had ever been before, and pressing a soft kiss to Spencer’s lips.

Spencer blushed and grinned softly when they pulled away. 

“Wow, that felt perfect,” Spencer giggled.

The couple continued to sway with each other, and soon it started to snow around them. As they danced, Derek pulled Spencer back in for another perfect kiss, and many more after.