It’s technically Sunday in my neck of the woods, so I’m still offering the weekend special–it’s a 10lb bag of Soft White kernels for $5.99 as a part of Soft Wheat Sunday…but if you’re looking for something fancy like Hard Red Winter sold in a 10lb wheat flour bag, I’d hit me up on a Mic Monday when I’m in a particularly giving mood.
(Note: please be advised that this week’s Mic Monday has been canceled due to Studio Bones’ horrific erasure of both Mic’s muscles AND his tiddies in the recent episode preview, and as such, will resume next week as scheduled once I’ve properly mourned the loss. Sorry for any inconvenience!)
Thinking about young erasermic getting completely wasted and laying down beside each other, Shouta’s finger ghosting across Hizashi’s cheeks and nose, his shoulders and chest. Connecting the smattering of freckles into nonsensical shapes and constellations. Hizashi’s nose scrunching up as laughter bubbles past his lips. Both being so hopelessly in love with one another that some days it hurts. But neither is willing to potentially disrupt the peace they’ve found in each other. They’re at a standstill, an impasse, both yearning for more but too afraid to reach out and take it.
It starts as any such nights do, Shouta being overly self assured of his tolerance and Hizashi drinking just a bit too much, both stumbling their way back to Hizashi’s apartment, collapsing on his bed in a giggling heap. A distant part of Hizashi’s mind thinks this is how Shouta should always be, face flush and lips parted in a grin, breathy laughter spilling past his lips as if the genuine joy he was feeling was simply uncontainable.
At the first touch of Shoutas fingers on his cheek Hizashi let’s his eyes slip closed and for just a moment let’s himself pretend that they’re more than they are.
Even if it twists him up inside. Even if it will hurt all the more come morning.
By the time they’ve made it to Hizashi’s apartment alcohols grip on Shouta has lessened to a pleasant haze that chips away at his inhibitions. And maybe he should feel guilt for placing the blame of his actions on the alcohol rather than being open and truthful, he’ll certainly feel guilt when come morning he awakens in a tangle of gangly limbs, letting Hizashi ramble a plethora of panicked apologies despite being the one to have initiated the contact.
But for now there’s only contentment and warmth as he watches verdant eyes hide behind a thicket of lashes, a gentle upturn of lips pleasantly accentuated by the rosy hue of his cheeks. His breath ghosting across his face a reminder that at least in part this is real, that Hizashi is there to hold even if he isn’t his to hold.
It’s been a while since I’ve rocked one of these out, so I’ll elaborate on how this goes for those tuning in for the first time.
Today is a day in which we, as a community, come together and show a little extra appreciation for our favorite beautiful disaster, Sir Present Mic himself.
What’s the best way to do this? Easy. Reblog and attach your favorite image of him—be it a manga panel, an anime screenshot, or even a good ol’ meme. Bonus points if you tell me why you love it, be it in the tags, as a reply, or right in the text box!!
As usual, I’ll start us off, but I’m counting on everyone else to really crank up the tunes.
