Cess_past



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    “Looks like I bit you.” Will tilts his head to get a better look. All Mike can do is stare at him. His fluffy hair at the front, clumped pieces at the back where he’d slid his fingers in a mere few minutes before. His pretty green eyes that look hazel or even brown in this light, the dark circles he gets when he drinks framing them like intricate paintings. A satisfied, bloody smile.

    Mike isn’t satisfied. He swallows thickly, choking down the words 'don’t you want more?'

    Or: Will dresses as a vampire for a college halloween party, but Mike thinks his costume isn’t bloody enough. Will lets him fix it. Mike goes into a crisis.

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    03 Jan 2026

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    It’s winter in Hawkins, and Mike and Will aren’t speaking anymore. Living in Mike’s house, Will tries to be invisible, spending most of his time in the basement.

    Then the power goes out — and if there’s one thing he dreads more than facing Mike, it’s the cold.

    or

    Seven nights in which Mike and Will have to sleep in the same bed, even though they’re barely friends anymore.

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    06 Dec 2025

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    “Wait,” he grounds out, gaze darting back to Dazai as the rest of the sentence registers. “You’re hurt?”

    “Astute observation,” Dazai drawls, rolling his eyes.

    “Shut up, shithead,” Chuuya barks, “what happened?”

    “Chuuya crushed me like the tiny cannonball he is,” Dazai says, making a pinching motion with his fingers. Chuuya slaps the hand away, growling.

    “Fine, fine.” Dazai sighs. “A piece of rubble fell on it. It’s just fractured. I’ll live, unfortunately.”

    Chuuya eyes him critically. “Any other injuries?”

    “Average cuts and bruises,” Dazai dismisses, “now lay back down, slug. I’m not finished.” He waves the roll of gauze in his hand around impatiently.

    “Fuck’s sake,” Chuuya hisses, doing the exact opposite and sitting up fully. At Dazai’s dry and unimpressed look, he adds, “I’m fine. You lay down, bastard.”

    Or: 5 times Chuuya (begrudgingly, okay?!) takes care of Dazai and the 1 time Dazai returns the favour.

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    25 Mar 2024

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    “Chuuya, what—?”

    Chuuya grasps at Dazai’s bolo tie, fingers shaking and cheeks turning paler by the minute.

    “I had nowhere else to go.”

    Or: Shot during a mission, Chuuya crawls to the only person he trusts — his traitor ex-partner.
    Russian translation: here

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    03 Dec 2023

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    All Chuuya has for the day is a rough notebook, a few pens and his phone. He has yet to buy the textbooks. He’ll do that during the weekend, he decides. He rummages through his bag and picks out the notebook. It’s a thin book, really, mostly because Chuuya doesn’t expect himself to make elaborate notes or anything. Maybe he’ll just record the lectures on his phone and listen to them like podcasts before the exams.

    “That’s my seat,” he hears a voice that makes him look up.

    “Excuse me?”

    The other guy clicks his tongue in annoyance. “I said that’s my seat. You’re sitting on my seat.”

    “Are the seats permanently assigned or something?”

    “No.”

    “Then sit somewhere else.”

    The other guy blinks at him. Chuuya is ready for a fight if he has to. It’s not like he hasn’t dealt with bullies in the past. He’s somewhat proud to say that he has, perhaps, made them cry a lot more than the other way around. So, yeah, he’s ready for anything.

    Except that the guy only smirks at him.

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    08 Oct 2023