#'oh here's a prodigy in A Thing and he's been so good since he was so young and everyone weeps to see it and he always wins'

[thewalrus-said]

This post is directed to the crossover between TGCF fans and Yuri!!! on Ice fans:

Us never seeing Xie Lian properly swordfight anyone is the EXACT EQUIVALENT of us never seeing Viktor Nikiforov properly skate.

[infiniteimaginings]

Omg your amazing at writing Anthony bridgerton angst. Pls write more😫😫😫💋

You caused this? (Anthony Bridgerton x GN!Reader)

Summary: You are complaining to your dearest friend Anthony about your lack of luck through the seasons but he is terribly silent. His silence brings answers that you never expected from him. Pronouns: You/Yours Warnings: Angst Word Count: 3.4k A/N: Thank youuu!! Here's more for you my love! (Also for the new thing below this, tagging, you guys can be asked to be tagged in any sort of fics lol!) Tagging: @etherynn

A stunning afternoon shone on the walking paths families decided to take for eloquent bonding times. Children were laughing, mothers were sending their daughters off to promenade with one another, and the men were keeping watchful eyes out. It was a perfect day for the courting season to bloom in its full beauty and potential.

It was lively around the grassy green parks where people conversated with each other, it was a lovely day.

Two of the people taking advantage of the wondrous day to promenade together were you and Anthony Bridgerton, the most inseparable friends in all of London. The two of you had been great friends ever since you were children, you had been there for him through the easy and the rough patches, and he had done the same for you. Neither of you questioned your roles in the other's life, you just fit together.

Anthony loved you dearly, you knew that. He treated you like his own sibling, sometimes you appreciated it, other times you had to give him a good wack for him to stop scaring the poor guests at parties you attended.

There was no need for that during this moment, no. There were only warm smiles, sweet treats, pleasant conversation, and why was that? It was because it was only the two of you, no one to interrupt, or drag you away.

Anthony walked with you along the path, holding his hand out when he reached the stony steps to the dock. You raised a brow and rolled your eyes, taking his hand with a playfully distasteful look on your face, causing him to chuckle ever so slightly.

You walked down the wooden planks of the dock, noticing how there were no boats out. “I wonder why there are no boats out when it’s such a beautiful day.” You hummed aloud, not really expecting any response to your comment.

Anthony looked around and shrugged, hands behind his back, “Would you care to go out on the water?”

“Oh, heavens no!” You answered a little loudly, a sheepish smile finding itself onto your face as you turned to face him. “I was simply expressing my passing curiosity.”

The Bridgerton shook his head and stood quietly, admiring how the waves rocked with one another. He thought of the water like a ball, each drop with its own partner to create a beautiful array of movement within the water, to create a somehow roaring image of tranquility.

You, on the other hand, adjusted your clothing and sat upon the wooden planks, smoothing out the fabric as you did so. You carefully took off your shoes and set them to the side.

“What are you doing?”

The sudden comment caused you to look up with fluttering eyes, “What does it look like I’m doing?”

Anthony walked a bit to you, looking down, “It looks as if you’re on the brink of putting your feet into the water.”

"A remarkable observation indeed," You responded sarcastically, a playful glint in your eyes. “I shall have to inform your mother that we have discovered you possess the brilliance of a prodigy.” You spoke, removing the last of any clothing surrounding your feet to enter the cold water. Once you made contact, you left out a soft sigh, your hands falling to the wood behind you, leaving you in a relaxed position.

Anthony sucked his teeth at your remark, but no one could mistake his mischievous grin for anything other than delight. “Let us not raise her expectations.” He mumbled to you with a shake of his head, kneeling to take off his own shoes, “She’s already enthusiastic enough about Daphne.”

You hummed, tilting your head over to him, squinting your eyes due to the bright sun. “Pray tell, how is the new Duchess of Hastings?”

The man rolled his neck a bit and sat next to you, dipping his feet into the water. His body blocked the sunlight so you had no need to squint as you gazed upon him, his eyes falling to yours. 

He let out a huff with a toothy smile, “She’s gone away with Simon.” Anthony informed you, looking out to the water now. He adjusted the collars of his wrist as he took a deep breath, “She swore she’d write letters so…”

“You’re looking forward to them, do not deny it.” You told him, scrunching your nose as you bumped your shoulder with his.

He chuckled and nodded, “Indeed, I eagerly await her thought filled letters.” He told you before biting the inside of his cheek, his eyes still looking forward, but they were further than ever. “I never imagined I’d miss her presence so much,” He confessed, blinking rapidly, “her ceaseless ramblings about finding her soulmate are over now.” He whispered, clearing his throat, adjusting himself once more, “My little sister is now gone, and I won’t be able to protect her anymore.” His voice with loss, his fingers clasped together as if he was grasping for something.

You placed your head on his shoulder, “She’s still your sister Anthony, she will visit.” You reminded him, placing one of your hands on his thigh. 

You felt the man take a sharp inhale of breath before letting it go slowly, “I know…” He nodded against you, placing his head over yours.

There was a moment of silence, the two of you kicking your feet in the water, enjoying the cool splashing against the warmth the sun brought.

You moved your head, looking to the families across the way, “Besides, there are plenty of others for you to protect, people still rely on you.” You reassured him with a supportive smile, remembering his other siblings, specifically his three younger sisters.

Anthony was not thinking the same as you though, he took his hand and placed it over yours, which hadn’t moved from his thigh. “Right, like you.” He smiled, rubbing his thumb along the edge of your hand.

You looked to your lap, laughing a bit, “I require little protection.” You muttered out, playing with a small string on your clothing.

Your friend furrowed his brows and scoffed, “There are dogs out there.”

“I mean, because no one approaches me anymore.” You spoke suddenly, looking at the water solemnly, lips in a frown. 

Anthony's smile dropped, and he turned his head to you, “Pardon?”

You scratched your head with a breathy laugh, “No one wishes to marry me.” You said, tone in a light song, but you knew it wasn’t a light hearted moment. It was a harsh truth you never wanted to face, but you had no choice as the season continued on.

The Bridgerton shook his head though, turning himself to you, his leg propped onto the wood, only one foot in the water. “That is not true, many do.” He assured you, but you shook your head in response.

You turned your body to him, feet still in the water, “Then why has no one called for me in weeks?” You asked, shoulders dropping in defeat. “Why has no one proposed?” You asked another unanswerable question as you looked back to the water.

Anthony felt an uncomfortable feeling bubble up in his stomach as you spoke. His blood grew cold, his heart beat faster than ever, his throat felt dry as if all the saliva in his mouth suddenly disappeared. He was suddenly aware of everything around him, all the sounds, the feeling of the wood on his calf, the water rushing around his foot, how hot the sun was.

You didn’t notice his sudden silence, you didn’t notice his expression, you were lost in your own mind. “I just feel as if I’ll never find someone.” You muttered, looking out to the empty body of water, “It’s as if I’m being avoided, and everyone knows to do so.” You continued, feeling pricks from the wood in your fingers. “I wish I knew why I was being avoided, because I swear,” You sighed, “I would change what they don’t like about me.” 

Anthony stayed silent but his eyes were filled with a deep sadness, his lips parted slightly, his hands clenching. He could feel his nails embedding themselves into his palms, leaving crescent shaped marks, his palms now red. 

You looked back over to him, wiping your eyes that began to water, “I didn’t mean to ramble on…” You trailed off as you caught sight of his expression. “What is it?” You asked, concerned as he had never looked at you so…upset before.

He shook his head, snapping himself out of his thoughts, “Nothing.”

“Anthony, what is it?”

The tone of your voice was heartbreaking to him, you were really worried about him after telling him your concerns. He slowly turned his head to you, almost reluctantly, and looked into your eyes that shine with sunlight. He could see the reflection of the clouds in your eyes, and it made him feel worse than he already did. When he looked into your eyes, he knew he could not lie to you. So he took a shaky breath and whispered out the words, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” You answered immediately, confused by the sudden change in mood. You wished you had not spoken, perhaps if you kept quiet the two of you would be laughing and splashing each other. 

There was silence. 

“Anthony, for what?” You persisted, searching his expression for answers.

“I’m so sorry…” He continued to shake his head, gulping down his own breaths as if the world would run out of oxygen just for him. As if he was being tortured and couldn’t breath on his own. His grip on your hand was tighter than it had been, “I was just… I’m so sorry…”

His panic conveyed through his action, through his expression, through his words. You just couldn't understand why he was so anxious, why he was so scared. 

Until you realized, he didn’t seem scared over whatever he did, he seemed scared for how you would respond. His eyes kept snapping to you before looking down, he continued to clasp onto your hand, he closed his eyes as if he was silently praying for a better outcome.

Your brows knitted together and your lips pursed, “Sorry?” You repeated his apology, trying to think of what he was so apologetic about.

Suddenly, all of the memories flashed through your mind, quick as ever. The balls, the sitting rooms, the lack of dresses you needed to buy… it was because Anthony had never left your side. You thought he was being supportive, letting you know who would be better than the other for your bright future, but no. He wasn’t helping weed out those who weren’t good for you, he was clearing the field completely, so there was nothing left. No weeds, nor even blossoming flowers that you would’ve loved to pick.

Until there was no one left.

You blinked rapidly as you thought about this, finally making eye contact, “You didn’t.” You breathed out quietly.

You were met with silence and Anthony's sorrowful gaze, already begging for forgiveness.

You tried to remove your hand from his grip, but he wouldn't let up. Once you finally pulled yourself away, you stood quickly, not caring for the water dripping to your clothing from your quick movements. 

Your feet were wet, causing a dark spot to form onto the wooden dock. “Anthony, how could you?” You asked, exasperated, hands going to your face as you began to pace. 

Anthony scrambled up himself, trying to grasp your hands, but you continuously pulled away, making him face your back. “I just wanted to protect you!”

His words caused you to seethe, protect you? How was he protecting you? 

You turned to him, feet stomping once you were face to face with him, “You’re not protecting me!” You yelled, your volume caused him to fall back a bit, unused to your yells. “You’re labeling me as a…” You paused, taking a few small breaths, “bad contender.” You mumbled, clutching your chest, feeling your eyes begin to sting. You began to shake your head as you backed away, “At this rate I will not be married.” 

“What is the fault in that?”

“What is-?” You laughed, honestly not believing that this situation was happening. Your hands were up to your head, clutching at your ears, pinching, praying that this wasn’t really happening.

Anthony Bridgerton, the man of the Bridgerton home, the man who almost forced Daphne to marry a man who wanted nothing good for her. Anthony Bridgerton who was to duel a man for his sisters honor. Anthony Bridgerton, the man who took the responsibilities of his father for his family, because he knew how important it was for women to be married in this world.

You stood straight, face contorted in anger, “You are well aware, as I am, that our society revolves around marriage.” You spoke slowly, “My family wishes for me to be married or I will be a disgrace.” You reminded him, tilting your head, mouth opened in another sense of disbelief. “How is it that you now fail to comprehend such a thing?”

Anthony nodded with your words, but it seemed as if he wasn’t hearing you at all, he was being so frustrating. “I merely believe that you should pursue your own desires.”

“You did not consult me on what I desire!” You yelled, drawing the attention of passersby. You looked down, frown on your face as Anthony waved them off with a smile. You looked back to him with a harsh, cold glare, “You acted according to your own desires, but for what purpose?” 

He ran a hand through his hair before unbuttoning his vest and taking it off. Anthony felt like he was suffocating, and nothing was helping him breathe properly at the moment. “It’s because I hold deep regards for your well-being.”

You scoffed, “No one who truly cares about the other would do that.”

“I-”

You stopped him, holding up your finger, “No, you would never do this to Daphne.” You told him, causing him to fall silent. You could hear the harsh gulp he took as you continued. “You endeavored to secure a match for her, so why must you subject me to this treatment?…” You trailed off, turning away once again before turning right back to him, “You repelled every potential partner.”

Anthony didn’t make eye contact, he just mumbled out, “I have my reasons.”

“Please, list them.” You ordered, trying to meet his gaze, “For it appears that you do not wish the best for me.” 

That sentence brought him out of his thoughts, that sentence made him realize how you didn’t realize the true intentions of his actions. “I care deeply for you!” He spoke a bit loudly, “It is inexplicable, I can not put into words my concern for your future.” He continued to speak, and you were quiet, waiting for any valid reason, because you wanted to forgive him, you did. “I truly believe that none among the ton is truly suitable for you.”

You blinked at him, “No one of the…” You just stared at him, “You…what?”

“Please understand.”

Oh, you understood just fine. You crossed your arms with a raised brow, “No one but you, I assume?”

His eyes widened and he shook his head quickly, “That is not what I mean.” He spoke, breaths quickening as his thoughts swirled through his mind.

“So you harbor no romantic sentiments towards me?”

“If that is what I implied, I apologize.” 

You nodded, poking your cheek with your tongue, “Then why do all this?”

You were met with no response, so you continued, walking forward, poking his chest with your finger. “If you do not love me,” You began, “also being you do not wish to court me,” you clarified, tilting your head with a blank expression, “then your actions are malicious.”

Anthony shook his head, cupping your hand in his, “They are not, they are in good health.” He tried to convince you, but you wouldn’t budge. 

You pulled your hand from his grasp, “Is the idea of courting me so revolting to you that you must scare off all contenders with your jealousy,” You backed away, hands up, “and leave me as a spinster for the entire court to laugh at?”

“It was not my intention.” Is that all he could say, it was not his intention? 

“Then what was your intention?”

He sputtered and babbled out a response, but it was stutters of the beginning of sentences he would never finish. The only thing his pieces of words could convince you of, was that he had no idea why he would do such a thing. 

“Was it your intention to prompt me to recognize deeper emotions for you?” You asked him, and he continued to knock his brain for some sort of response that he couldn’t give you. “Well?”

The Bridgerton man put his head down, hands over his face before they went to the back of his neck, “I thought,” He spoke, dropping his hands to his sides, “if we spent more time together as if we were courting-”

“But we are not.” You interrupted with an obvious stare, “You are not courting me, you do not wish to court me Anthony.”

He nodded and clapped, eyes wide with promise as he strode towards you in a sudden burst of excitement. “But perhaps, if we acted as such, we could discover the wisdom in such an action.” He spoke, nodding along with his own words, “It is smart, surely, you see it through my perspective!”

You chuckled because, what else were you supposed to do at the sudden idiocy that escapes a man's mouth? “Anthony, this is not business.”

“I understand that,” He told you confidently, “but, consider the mutual benefits it could offer us.”

You chuckled once more, taking a step back with a shocked smile, “I don’t care if marrying you would take the trouble from my family for thousands of generations, Anthony.” You explained, waving your hands in a large ‘no’ motion. “I would never marry you!” You told him harshly, the words engraved in the air as a promise.

Anthony's eyes dimmed, his breath pausing as his shoulders began to droop, “Why not?”

“For the same reason you will not court me.” You answered, rolling your eyes a bit.

He didn’t understand so he stared at you expectantly, “Which is?”

You couldn’t believe he wasn’t aware of why he wasn’t courting you, why your marriage would never work. Since he couldn’t understand such a simple answer, you stepped forward, staring him into his eyes. His brown eyes looked at you, searching for answers.

You shook your head lightly, “ Anthony, I feel nothing when I look at you.”

Time has stopped completely for Anthony Bridgerton. You spoke the words so easily. He felt everything move so slowly, to the point he didn’t even realize that he stopped breathing. He didn’t stop staring at you until you waved your hand in his face to capture his attention. 

“Is that why you think I won’t court you?” He whispered to you, face falling.

You scoffed, again, at how he wasn’t understanding the conversation. “Wake up, Mr. Bridgerton!” You yelled, the first time you’ve ever used the title. “You just tried to propose a business deal with me, knowing that I have a better chance with any man over you.” You explained, hands falling to your sides as you paced across the doc, the man standing still, facing the same direction he was before you moved. “Yet, you still sabotaged any chance for me this season, and I will end up alone due to your selfish actions!” You spoke angrily, nostrils flaring once you finally looked at him again.

His eyes were the only thing that followed you, “I..I don’t…. I wasn’t thinking of-”

“You’re right!” You told him, clapping at his realization. “You were not thinking, which is exactly why you ruined everything for me!” You yelled, voice feeling strained due to the emotions you were currently feeling. “You ruin everything because you do not think.”

Anthony wiped his coming tears, opening his mouth for another apology.

You stopped him immediately, “I am utterly sick of every apology that leaves your mouth, because you do not mean it.” You spoke, not letting him speak any further.

You walked to the steps that separated the dock from the walking paths, “Goodbye Mr. Bridgerton.” were your final words before you left Anthony near the water.

He couldn’t say anything else, his gaze was trapped on the wooden flooring of the dock. What had he done? Why does he feel his heart squeezing every time he takes a deep breath in? Why was everything spinning?

More importantly, why did he do something so stupid, and push you away?

[finxwrites]

strange & grimm, which btw sounds like an urban fantasy affectionately parodic hardboiled detective agency. probably queer.

It was a hot, muggy night in the Enchanted Forest. Everyone with a lick of sense was down in the fairy glens, hoping the Winter Court would put in an appearance and bring a breeze on with them. Lucky me, I’m the sucker who fingered the Snow Queen for the missing persons case last winter, so I’m persona non grata in the fairy glens these days.

Just as well. I couldn’t afford to leave the office, not when it’d been so long since my last case. Though on a night like this, I might as well not bother. It was too hot for crime. Even the leaves on the enchanted trees were drooping in the heat. 

I was just about to call it a night when a dame walked in my door. Tall, blonde, legs for days, with an air of tragedy that could put an unloved stepchild to shame. I looked her over suspiciously for any cheery woodland creatures hidden in her golden ringlets. If she was a princess, I’d turf her right back out of the office, case unheard. Princesses paid well, but they were more trouble than they were worth.

No mice poked their adorable little noses out of her pockets as the dame sank into a chair and fixed me with a hard look. “I hear you’re the best in the business,” she said without preamble. “And I need the best.”

I leaned back in my seat. “Baby, I’m the only one in the business. It’s not a good genre for private dicks.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, yes, far too child-friendly for any sort of dicks.” Before I could recover from that little gem, she went on, “It’s a child I’m here about. My sister. She’s…she’s gone missing.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “Please, Detective, you’re my last hope. The royal courts won’t hear me out, they think she’s gone on the lam!”

I nodded grimly. “One of those Bo Peep situations, huh?” I get a depressing number of those. All it takes is one wolf in sheep’s clothing—you’d think the kids would learn.

The dame glared. There was enough cold iron in her gaze to put a fairy off her ambrosia. “On the lam, Detective. On the run. My sister has…something of a record.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Your sister the child? She some kind of crime prodigy?”

The dame fidgeted, looking away. “She’s…” She sighed explosively. “My sister is Goldilocks.”

I whistled, low and long. Crime prodigy indeed—Goldilocks was wanted in five kingdoms for the most impressive string of burglaries the Enchanted Forest had ever seen. No one could ever prove she’d done it, but the circumstantial evidence had piled up higher than mattresses on a pea. No wonder no royal court would take this case.

The dame’s shoulders hunched defensively, but she bulled on without trying to defend her wayward sister. “She’s gone missing, and I know it’s not another one of her sprees. Something is wrong this time.” She turned back to meet my eyes, her lovely features harsh with poorly-suppressed fear. “It’s her first crime come back to haunt her, I just know it is. They’ve always wanted revenge—especially the baby of the family, and he’s all grown up now. What they’d do if they got hold of her—“ She cut herself off with a watery gasp; her eyes were wet with tears. “Oh, it doesn’t bear thinking about!”

I handed her a handkerchief and gave her a minute to compose herself. It gave me a minute, too, to decide if I was really going to be this stupid. You don’t tangle with the big predators, not if you know what’s good for you, and especially not a whole family of them. Families are a dangerous thing in any genre.

But I was her last hope, and I’m a sucker for lost causes. And if I didn’t get paid soon, this business would become a lost cause itself. I said a silent farewell to my good sense as it packed its bags and left for kinder climes. “Alright,” I told the dame, “Give me the facts. We’ll see what kind of a story they tell.”

[lovelyhan]

Hii!! minghao + "oh really?" / "yes, really." / "lying doesn't suit you, sweetheart." from the prompts enemies to lovers? :D

— rush hour ⟢

pairing: minghao x reader

summary: you used to be good friends with the newest dancer in your agency, but your competitiveness gets the better of you when he overtakes your spot as the top performer of the month—for three straight months.

word count: 6.7k words

tags: enemies to lovers, dancer au? unresolved sexual tension, smut

warnings: promiscuous behavior in public, graphic sexual content (minors dni!!)

notes: this . got really REALLY long :D like long enough to have its own header and everything LOL it probably helps that hao has been clawing his way back into my bias line these days, so the brain rot kinda just spilled out,, anyway, thank you sm for sending this in!! i hope you like it :3c

smut tags: porn with some plot ig, public sex, vaginal fingering, exhibitionism, hao is kinky as fuck, dirty talk, degradation

svt taglist: @wonderfulshinee - @misssugarlips - @yourfavoritefreakyhan - @jeanjacketjesus - @just-here-to-read-01 - @hanihans - @venusrae - @taestrwbrry - @minnie-mouser22 - @dreamhannies - @thvhannie - @kkooongie - @gae-uls - @lenireads - @gaebestie - @ryusha-rose - @enhacolor - @ilyvern - @woo8hao - @spk93 - @tommolex

minghao taglist: @zeenanigans - @renjunphile - @pluviophile-xxx

Saying that you hate Xu Minghao is a bit of an overstatement. 

After all, you were the one assigned to show him the ropes when he was accepted into the agency. While you’re no professional mentor, you like to think he was able to rely on you during those first few weeks. He’s been in Seoul for a better part of two years, and although his Korean can already pass as a native’s, you knew he still struggled every now and again. It’s a good thing that verbal communication isn’t direly needed in your line of work.

Minghao was an excellent dancer—one of the best you’ve seen with your own eyes. You once took pride in having a budding prodigy like him as an understudy. Whatever steps or routines you’d ask him to try out and make his own, not only will he deliver, but he’ll blow your expectations out of the water while he’s at it, too. 

It doesn’t help that he knows his own body well enough to channel each movement with passion that makes him look alluring to everyone who dares to watch any of his performances. Minghao isn’t vain or conceited or anything like that, but he’s completely aware of how attractive he is, and that’s a trait that’s further amplified by his dancing. 

You suppose the funniest part about this senior-junior relationship you have with him is how he always asks for your input about his routines. Even if Minghao has long proved that he doesn’t even need a pseudo-mentor like you, he still takes the time to hear out whatever you have to say—eager eyes always shining every time you indulge him with an answer.

Another thing that inevitably brought the two of you closer is the fact that you both take the same train and get off at the same station. Your apartment is in a different neighborhood from his, but you find comfort in the newfound company you’ve been given since Minghao’s arrival. Though he doesn’t talk much outside discussions about work and other dance-related topics, having someone familiar to sit right next to you on the train is more than enough to quell the day’s fatigue.

Your other colleagues sometimes voice out their envious comments jokingly—saying that you’re extremely lucky to have such a hot guy as constant company. Almost always, you respond with a vigorous shake of your head before insisting that things between you and Minghao aren’t at all like that. Besides, you know better than to nurse a romantic relationship between your colleagues. You wouldn’t even let yourself have a crush on any of them. 

What they don’t know, however, is that on very rare occasions when your body feels just a little too heated, and your sheets a few threads too thick, it’s Minghao that flits into your mind as your hesitant fingers reach between your thighs. 

You touch yourself to the thought of him taking you in one of the dance studios. Specifically, in front of the full-stretch mirrors as he fucks you from behind. You imagine him whispering how good you are for him, how you’re taking his cock so, so well. 

Subverting the mere image of the kind man who constantly seeks your validation for his performance has you creaming on your own fingers within minutes, and if you weren’t such a terrible person, you would’ve felt bad for thinking about him in such an obscene light. 

Then again, what Minghao doesn’t know won’t kill him.

His first month in the agency comes and goes like the changing seasons. Next thing you know, it’s time for monthly evaluations again. 

While others would usually dread these assessments, you looked forward to them. You know that they’re less a measure of talent, and more a measure of hard work. Sure, talent could be one of the main driving factors of getting a high score, but you know better than anyone else that talent is nothing if you don’t work hard enough to cultivate it. 

That’s the kind of mindset that always landed you in the top of the rankings for every monthly evaluation.

And it’s the same mindset that puts you immediately beneath Minghao. 

The agency is always prompt with the release of the results. They’d post the typewritten scores next to the dancers’ names in the bulletin board at the ground floor cafeteria for everyone to see two days after the monthly evaluation.

It was a bit of a challenge to squeeze past the other dancers to get a good look at this month’s results—the crowd being more chatty than usual. Your closer friends insisted that you’d be number one as usual, and that you didn’t have to check at all. 

Part of you wants to believe them, but the unsettling feeling that pools in the pit of your stomach doesn’t let you become complacent. It doesn’t help that everyone around you seems like they’re sneaking glances your way—only to look away when you try to catch their gaze. 

When you finally make it to the front of the board, you notice that Minghao is already there—already dressed to kill for today’s sets and routines. His black hair is still damp like he just got out of the shower and rushed straight to work, eyes glued to the bulletin board. You would’ve let your gaze linger a bit longer on his gorgeous face, had it not been for the surprise that awaits you on that single sheet of paper plastered right in front of you.

1. Xu Minghao — 100 points

Your vision tunnels in, white noise ringing in your ears. 

You could vaguely make out the characters of your name just below Minghao’s, and just a few points from a perfect score. But you didn’t care about that. All you could focus on was the fact that you’ve been kicked out of a spot that’s been yours for as long as you can remember. 

No wonder the others were buzzing amongst themselves, flashing you brief looks before whispering their thoughts on the matter to the nearest willing ear. Not a single soul has ever garnered a hundred fucking points from monthly evaluations. The evaluators cut no corners when it came to assessing their dancers’ level of skill and technique, and seeing how they deigned to give Minghao, a complete newbie, a perfect goddamned score—

“Congratulations, bro!” 

“Minghao, you’re a fucking beast! How long did you even practice?”

“That’s so cool. No one’s ever gotten a perfect hundred before.”

“You’ve gotta tell us the secret, please!”

Like a bunch of bees, the collective of dancers start to crowd Minghao—giving him congratulatory gestures and greetings alike. Your understudy simply gazes at them as if in a daze, but ever-so slowly, a smile cracks through his typically stoic demeanor. 

“Uh, thank you…?”

He’s whisked away to the cafeteria before you can blink, and you can only watch in shocked desolation as they all usher themselves away from the board.

Away from you. 

You don’t miss the way Minghao tries to catch your gaze in the midst of it all, the smile he showcased for everyone to see falling the moment he realized you’re still rooted in place. Yet he doesn’t try to break free from the crowd, nor does he attempt to call your name out loud. 

Not that you have any plans on answering if he did.

It’s only after today’s session has concluded that Minghao manages to pull you to the side for a conversation. You’re already halfway out of the building when he catches you, and you can tell that the sheer euphoria of knowing you came out on top is still humming in his veins. 

It pisses you off.

“Thank you,” he says simply. 

“For what?” You try not to sound too gruff, but the pensiveness in your voice comes out anyway. “Letting you take my spot?”

Minghao’s grin dips into a grimace—mirroring his expression from earlier. “What? I meant to say thank you for showing me the ropes. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have—hey!”

You’re probably being immature. No, you’re definitely being immature. Instead of accepting Minghao’s gratitude like a normal fucking person, you continue brisk-walking to the building’s entrance without letting him finish. Of course, he chases after you, asking if he did anything wrong or if you’re simply in a bad mood or both. 

You don’t answer him even when he continues pestering you on the way to the train station, and he doesn’t stop despite the lack of responses from your end. It’s beginning to get on your nerves, too, because he was never this goddamn pushy during all those times you went home together. What’s stopping him from being the quiet companion he’s always been?

“Can you just shut the fuck up, Hao?” you end up snapping at him when you finally get off at your shared station—earning yourself a bunch of questioning looks from nearby commuters. “You don’t have to fucking rub it in anymore than you have. I already know the results, okay?!”

“Rubbing what in?” he asks, exasperated. “I’m just asking you what’s wrong because you don’t normally act this way. Is it so bad for me to worry about my friend?”

“Friend?” you echo mirthlessly. “No fucking friend of mine takes away what belongs to me.”

This time, when you storm off, Minghao doesn’t follow you.

Fortunately, that all happened on a Friday. It takes you the entire weekend after that heated encounter at the train station to realize that maybe you went a little overboard with what you said to Minghao. 

As you replay your conversation in your head, you’re filled with a crippling sense of embarrassment. The top spot for monthly evaluations belongs only to the best—you know this better than anyone else. The only reason that the evaluators deemed you as a second placer is because Minghao is that proficient in his dancing. 

You’re one of the people who was able to watch him closest. You’ve seen the work he put into practice firsthand. You even called him a prodigy. 

So why did you make a fool out of yourself by having a meltdown at the fact that you got beaten by someone who obviously worked harder than you did?

Hard work beats talent any day. But Minghao has both honed to perfection. 

If you’re going to reclaim your rightful spot on the top, crying about it is the last thing you should do. You’re going to have to put in double the effort to call yourself worthy.

As expected, Minghao has started to distance himself from you after that spat. You don’t blame him. As much as you wanted to apologize for your behavior that night, you wouldn’t want to remain friends with a sore loser if you were in his shoes. 

But as his second month in the agency breezes past, you notice that, not only has he distanced himself, but he’s become somewhat…hostile.

He treats everyone else the same way since he came in—stoically with a few words of affirmation here and there. You, though? It’s almost like he’s forgotten all about the time you were assigned to look after him. There’s always this cockiness lingering in his eyes that grates at your nerves more than you thought it would. He’d throw you haughty glances whenever he catches you flubbing some parts of the choreography from the corner of his eye. 

The worst part is that Minghao is more vocal now compared to when he first came in—not seeing any problem with pointing out how you’re starting to slack off during practice. 

“How are you expecting yourself to take back the crown when you’re already breathless after such a simple routine?” he gloats when he catches you lingering by the water fountain, lips curved into a smirk.

You glare at him while you take a sip from your water bottle. “Fuck you. I’ve been rehearsing all fucking day. Who wouldn’t be tired?”

“People who rank first in monthly evals,” he says boredly. “Oh, but you wouldn’t know about that, now would you? At least, not anymore.”

You’re so fucking close to tearing his face off with your own fingernails that you’re slightly grateful that Minghao gets called back onto the dancefloor to polish his group’s routine. Minghao’s constitution changes in a flash—that arrogant look he reserves for you alone making way for his usual aloof expression while he makes his way back. 

He always looks cool and amicable to others, but when no one’s looking he makes sure you catch the patronizing tilt of his lips whenever he pulls off some high level choreography with zero mistakes. As if to remind you that you’re never going to take back what he stole from you. Not in a million years. 

Okay. Maybe you do hate Xu Minghao. 

You hate him a fucking lot.

…

Minghao proves that the results he reaped from his first month in the agency are no fluke.

For three consecutive months, you’re forced to stand in front of the cafeteria’s bulletin board with his name plastered on the very top. If you hadn’t known better, you would’ve thought that the evaluators were only editing the month indicated on top of the sheet with how stagnant the results always are. 

The agency’s rising star consistently comes out on top with little to no effort, while you’re desperately clawing your way back to glory at second place. 

You didn’t know what the fucking deal was. You worked your ass off twenty four-seven. Even if you weren’t in the studio, you made sure to study all sorts of routines and choreographies so your body would remember the movements deep into your bones. 

But then you remember that even if hard work beats talent, you can never beat a man who has both at his disposal.

You’re at your wits’ end at this point—so close to giving up on the title you thought would always belong to you. Your evasive behavior did you no favors in maintaining a good reputation among your colleagues either. If you listened to their hushed conversations closely enough, you’d catch them saying how pathetic you’re being. Ostracizing yourself all because you’re insecure that your understudy became your adversary. 

The only reason you hate what they’re saying about you behind your back is because all of it is true.

Your usual group of friends doesn’t sit with you at your usual table at the cafeteria anymore, but you don’t really mind that—learning this late into your career that silence can be more beneficial than it seems. But every time you see Minghao laughing at a joke told by one of your colleagues, you can’t help but feel that familiar bite of resentment you’ve come to associate with everything he does.

If only he didn’t overtake you during his first goddamn month here. If only he wasn’t the one assigned to be your understudy. Maybe the blow to your pride wouldn’t have been this bad. Maybe you wouldn’t be licking your wounds in your loneliness. 

Maybe you wouldn’t have lost a friend you actually liked having around.

…

With an upcoming dance competition, it’s no surprise that the dancers at your agency often stay behind to polish their performances to perfection. Usually, practices would adjourn hours before the sun even sets, but these days, you find yourself exiting the building no earlier than nine PM. 

The excessive practice time has been taking a toll on you—this much you know. Your muscles have been sore for days, and no amount of painkillers and Salonpas can easily cure your affliction right away. So for tonight, you decide to take it easy—packing up once the clock hits six o’clock. The last thing you want is to accidentally pull something you shouldn’t, thus rendering your participation in the competition null and void.

But as you walk towards the train station, you realize that perhaps staying later was a smarter move after all. All around you, commuters of all ages and walks of life brush past you in their haste—the need to arrive home as soon as possible like a cloud on everybody’s heads. The closer you got to the station, the more it dawned on you.

It’s fucking rush hour.

You’ve always avoided going home during this time for two reasons. The first is the influx of commuters that’s literally and figuratively too suffocating to deal with, especially when your physical constitution isn’t in the best shape. 

The second is…because you noticed that, ever since your platonic breakup, Minghao has started leaving the studio at this hour. Later than your previous commutes home, but earlier than your new work-yourself-to-the-bone schedule. Sure, he’s still the biggest fucking prick to walk the earth whenever he feels like taunting you during practice, but he doesn’t seem interested in working overtime. 

If you’re being completely honest, you’re over the monthly evaluation results. Honest! You’ve just come to accept that nothing is ever set in stone.

Things change all the time. Humans used to believe the earth was flat. The Athenians once thought of Plato’s bullshit as the gospel truth, and—

You dared to assume you’ll be on top of the world forever.

What happened months ago was a reality check, and slowly but surely, you’re relearning the difference between ambitious and obnoxious. It’s a humbling experience that you’re honestly grateful for happening because…if it weren’t for that harsh reminder that there’ll always be someone out there who’s better than you, then you wouldn’t strive to improve at all.

You let out a quaint sigh when you settle into the train. As expected, tonight’s commuters have filled it out to complete capacity, and you wouldn’t have caught the last available space near the doors if you hadn't sprinted like a madman. Though your aching muscles practically scream in complaint, you comfort yourself with the promise of a long soak in your bathtub the moment you get home.

The smooth tone of the announcer’s voice rings from the overhead speakers, telling all passengers to step away from the doors, as the train is about to leave. Not that any of you can help it. You’re all packed like sardines in what’s usually a pretty spacious train car if you came in just an hour earlier or later. 

All of a sudden, you find yourself missing those days where you’d sit on the side where you could see the sunset breezing past the windows—listening to the stories of someone you can’t even hold a civilized conversation with anymore. But before that train of thought can progress any further, you shake your head as if the mere gesture alone can dispel your longing.

You try to press yourself back to avoid getting crushed by the automatic doors, muttering a quiet apology to the person behind you since you ended up subsequently squeezing him further into the crowd of cramped passengers. When the doors finally close, you hear him say a quick it’s okay, back at you, you’re forced to whip around in the limited space with your mouth agape.

Right behind you is Xu Minghao, looking just as distressed as you are.

He’s changed out of his usual practice clothes—having exchanged it for an oversized crewneck and sweats. His expensive headphones hang unused around his neck, and you wonder if you wouldn’t have noticed each other if only he was blasting music directly into his ears…

The urge to take back your courteous apology is strong, but you would much rather not give him any more of your energy than you already have. You’d take all his insults and badmouthing head-on in the studio, but it’s been a really long day, and you don’t have enough fire going to extend his hostility inside a crowded train in the middle of rush hour. 

“Why’re you out so early?”

You can feel gooseflesh prickle the skin of your shoulders when you feel Minghao’s breath next to your ear. A glare settles between your eyes as you jolt away from him in the limited space that affords you to do so. 

“Watch it, asshole. You’re way too close for comfort,” you hiss. “And the time I go home is none of your business.”

Minghao shrugs. “I dunno, you always stay late to practice. Is it so bad to be curious?”

“Yeah, because if it hasn’t occurred to you yet, I actually hate your guts, and I don’t appreciate you talking to me like we’re friends.”

He falls silent for a moment, and in the next moment the train lurches into motion—nearly catching you off balance. You’re quick to brace a hand against the door, but you startle again when you feel a large hand around your arm, touching you in a way that’s meant to steady. You spare Minghao another glance, but there’s less vitriol laced in your gaze and more confusion.

“Are we…” he whispers, gaze shied away from yours as he maintains a steady grip on your arm. Then, he gulps. “Are we not friends anymore?”

Again, you scowl. 

Is he being real with you right now?

“Dude, I am completely over the monthly evaluations if you think that’s the reason I’m being the way I am with you,” you hiss. “I was going to apologize after I said all that hurtful stuff in the past. But then you went ahead and started writing your very own villain arc. So, ask yourself: were you even my friend at all, Hao?”

The sound of that nickname making its way past your lips is familiar yet foreign at the same time. During these past few months, you’ve never once called Minghao anything else but asshole, dick, jerk, self-centered punk, and other variations of those words. You don’t want to admit it, but calling him by something that’s close to an endearment makes you feel like there’s cotton sticking to the roof of your mouth. 

Minghao doesn’t respond yet again, and you force yourself to face forward—leaning your head against the glass of the door so you wouldn’t have to look back at him anymore. You’re pretty sure the salaryman right next to you has been eavesdropping on your conversation this entire time, but it’s not like he has any other choice given the circumstances. 

You let the constant whir of the train engine lull you into a calmer disposition, heartbeat finally equalizing after everything you just shot at Minghao. That’s probably the most you’ve said to him all month, and to say that you’re not the least bit embarrassed about how you admitted wanting to apologize for a past transgression is a blatant lie. 

But what’s done is done. You’re just going to have to accept the fact that the man you once thought of as a good friend; the same man who’s now the main antagonist of your life and career, is standing behind you in your rush hour commute. Just twenty minutes more, and he’ll be out of your hair soon. 

Much to your delight, Minghao keeps his mouth shut until the train pulls over at the next station. The doors open with a mechanical ding, accompanied by the announcer's voice yet again. You’ve heard the monologue thousands of times, but you don’t quite hear it over the throng of passengers rushing to get off the train. 

You make way for them by scooting towards the back of the car, and Minghao does the same. But instead of shuffling away from you the moment there’s more room to move around like you thought he would, he lingers closely to your form. 

However, the amount of people that got off on this station is quickly replenished by a new horde of passengers—quickly filling in the space you thought would last for at least a few more stations. Once again, you find yourself slowly being squeezed closer to the corner of the car, but for some reason, Minghao wedges himself between you and the unassuming college boy whose wireless earphones are plugged in as he scrolls through his phone. 

When you realize what he’s trying to do, you say, “You don’t have to protect me or anything. I’m fine on my own.”

Minghao rolls his eyes. “You obviously didn’t see how you looked like you’re about to get crushed. Just thank me and we’re good.”

A biting retort is already resting on your tongue with how passive-aggressive that response of his sounds like. What the hell is his problem? It’s not like you asked for him to shield you from the other passengers. 

And yet…

“Thanks, I guess.”

You watch him visibly stiffen at your words, and you feel your heart slamming into your ribcage the moment you utter them. Did you really just thank the same man who’s been making your life at work a living hell for months?

The train starts to pick up speed again before you can answer that yourself.

You practically glare at the corner you’ve been forced into the entire trip to the next station. Minghao is right behind you, but you can’t be assed to worry about that when you’re chewing your lip out of frustration. Part of you feels relieved that you swallowed your pride and thanked him, but the part that’s been receiving the brunt of his antagonism for the past half year hisses in disagreement.

He’s an asshole. He’s a self-centered prick that uses people as stepping stones. He’s—

“...Sorry.”

You refuse to turn around. You refuse to believe that he’s actually—

“I’m sorry for being a jerk to you,” Minghao murmurs, and you feel his fingers graze your shoulder as if to emphasize the words with the sincerity of his touch. “I just… I didn’t know how to act when you lashed out at me back then. Y-You were my only friend, and I thought you’d be proud that I achieved something after working so hard for an entire month.”

You’re at a loss for words, completely stunned by the honesty in his voice. You’ve only known Minghao for a short while—been on good terms with him for even shorter—but you can always tell whenever he’s lying. 

This is not one of those times.

“A…friend of mine told me that I tend to act based on how I’m treated,” he continues. “I know that doesn’t excuse how I’ve been acting around you for so long, but… I guess when I got the hint that you hated me, the only way I could cope with that is to hate you right back. Even if I really didn’t.”

No. This isn't real. You’re dreaming. This is probably a side-effect from all those late hours you’ve spent in the studio—

You let out a soft squeak when you feel him rest his forehead against the back of your head, sighing so deeply, it makes you wonder how long he’s been thinking about apologizing properly. Minghao grips your arms again, not to help maintain your balance, but more to anchor himself onto his own. 

“I don’t care if everyone else in the studio looks at me like I’m some sort of god on the dancefloor,” he admits, voice so quiet, you could barely hear him. “The only person I’d want to look at me is you.” 

Your breath hitches, and you’re sure he hears it. 

“Can we please go back to normal again?” Minghao pleads. “I miss hearing your comments about my dances. I miss going home together.

“I miss you.”

The sincerity in his voice singes through you like a red-hot iron poker. You don’t know what to say, what to feel. All you can focus on is the stuttering breaths Minghao takes from behind you. 

If you’ve ever imagined reconciling with him, this certainly isn’t the most optimal venue. But now that he’s bared his defenses, you don’t see any benefit to keeping up your own.

“I’m…sorry and I missed you, too,” you admit somewhat sheepishly, thanking the higher deities up there that he can’t see the way your blood rushes to your cheeks. “But I don’t really know how to—”

Your sentence is cut off mid-way when the train abruptly runs into a bump on the tracks, forcing Minghao’s body against yours when he momentarily loses his footing. It’s an accident, and you wouldn’t have minded since some turbulence in this part of the city isn't rare at all. But that split second where Minghao got thrown against you from the impact made you all too cognizant of how thin the material of both your skirt and his sweatpants are.

“Sorry, sorry,” Minghao sighs before bracing an arm towards one of the walls to your left. The rustle of his clothes gives rise to the scent of his cologne wafting to your nostrils—a fresh, not-too-musky aroma that makes your head spin despite.

Just your luck, the train pitches to the side and you feel Minghao’s groin brush against your ass once again. This time, you’re not strong enough to hold down the soft whimper that tumbles out of your lips, and you don’t even feel ashamed about it.

Suddenly, you remember a time from back then where you’d spend your nights getting off to the same man who’s unknowingly sparking your arousal in the unlikeliest of places. You’ve once fucked yourself to the thought of him, so what’s the use with getting embarrassed now? As long as he doesn’t know, you should be fine.

Except Minghao isn’t deaf, and he definitely picked up on that suggestive little noise you just made.

Experimentally, he lets one of his hands dip lower and lower until his fingertips brush the hem of your skirt. That sinfully short skirt that keeps riding up your thighs every time you do a rather bold move during practice. His eyes are completely trained on you even if you’re still facing the corner, and when he feels you shiver, all the blood in his system rushes down south.

“You’re into this?” Minghao chuckles, bracing his hands on your hips before sliding his growing arousal against the ridge of your ass. “My… I didn’t think mending our friendship again would go this swimmingly. How about I take you out to dinner first?”

“Hao!” you chastise him with a poisonous look, but from the way you subtly rock your hips in time with his movements, Minghao can tell that dinner is the last thing on your mind right now.

He chuckles softly, keeping one hand steady on your hip while the other dips beneath your skirt again. When his fingers immediately press down against the gusset of your underwear, Minghao has to bite down a groan because of the wet patch that’s already accumulated at the center. 

“Not only did you ditch your shorts, but you’re already this wet? From a little grinding?” he hisses into your ear. “Needy fucking slut.”

You can’t help the way your pussy clenches at the harsh name he just called you. It’s all so strange. You never once reacted this way whenever he called you a bitch or anything similar, but you suppose when you’ve made amends with a friend you’ve secretly been wanting to fuck since you first laid your eyes on him, there’s no use keeping up any charades.

“Your hatred was all just an act, isn’t it?” he laughs, nudging your underwear to the side so he can get a feel of just how wet you areas you spread your legs to accommodate him. “Do you rile me up on purpose because you can’t deal with the fact that you actually want me?”

"You're delusional," you bite back.

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, really."

Another low laugh rumbles in his chest and you swear you don't get wetter with each hum of it as he presses closer to your ear. "Lying doesn't suit you, sweetheart."

You’re about to answer him when the announcer’s voice rings from the speakers yet again, saying that the next station is approximately five minutes away. This promptly rips you out of your lustful haze as you realize you’re very much still in public, where dozens upon dozens of passengers still share the same car with the both of you. Minghao seems to pick up on your split-second realization, but doesn’t seem fazed by the idea of getting caught doing this in the presence of strangers.

“Lots of passengers are going to get off at the next station, but not a lot are going to get on like the last one,” he whispers before plunging two of his fingers into your sopping cunt without warning. 

You have to physically cover your mouth with your hand to keep yourself from gasping out loud. When you turn to look at Minghao again, eyes ablaze with disbelief, he simply flashes you an evil smile.

“If you want to come on my fingers, do it in five minutes, whore.”

The sensation of his long, slender digits curling inside you forces you to brace yourself against your tiny little corner of that train car. Your skin prickles everywhere as Minghao grinds his half-hard cock against your backside, all while he works between your pussy lips as if he’s thought about it dozens of times before. 

His digits dip in and out of your entrance like he doesn’t know what he wants to do first. Poke and prod at every inch of sensitive flesh there is or fuck you until you’re a moaning mess for everyone to see. Either way, you’re panting all while Minghao maps the expanse of your pussy with his touch alone, and every time those sinful fingers brush against your clit, you jolt in response.

“Shh,” he coos. “Don’t be too obvious, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want the entire train knowing how much of an impatient fucking slut you are—whoring all over my fingers ‘cause you can’t wait to get off the train.”

You involuntarily clench at his filthy words, begrudgingly unearthing a kink you didn’t even know you had. But at the mere mention of the other passengers, you let your eyes frantically pass over those nearby. You don’t know if they’re really preoccupied on their phones or pretending not to notice the act of indecency that’s happening right beneath their noses. The college boy that almost crushed you earlier is still banging his head to whatever song is playing on his phone, and you take that as a sign to let yourself go.

“Now that won’t do,” Minghao tuts before sliding his fingers back inside you, nudging your thighs even further apart before curling his digits just so. “How can you come in five minutes if you’re so distracted?”

“F-Fuck,” you whine as quietly as you can. “Hao, f-feels so good.”

“Yeah?” he laughs softly and your vision goes black for a moment when you feel his thumb graze your clit with just the right pressure. Just how dextrous can he be? “Then focus on my fingers, sweetheart. If you can’t come before the train arrives at the next station, maybe I’ll just go back to hating you tomorrow after all.”

You nearly choke on a moan when he starts to rub your sensitive nub in varying pressures and speeds, nearly robbing you of your ability to speak. “You’re a f-fucking asshole, you know that?”

“You’re a fucking bitch, but see where that got you now?”

It’s almost like you’re hard-wired to rebut everything he says, and you have all those months of shared antagonism to thank for it. But when Minghao crooks his fingers at a slightly different angle, your already sore legs nearly give out when his fingers hit you deep enough to make stars dance in the seams of your vision.

“Oh?” He sounds so smug, you actually want to hit him. “There it is.”

You can hardly believe it. You can barely find your own g-spot even on good days if you don’t put your back into using your toys right, yet Minghao got it in less than five minutes, inside a train full of passengers, no less?

Your brain has all but fizzled out when the pads of his fingers start to massage that sweet, sweet spot inside of you again—milking your body for all those lovely reactions you’re so willing to give to him. Minghao’s cock is an ever-present weight against your ass, but this isn’t about him. It’s about you, and how badly he wants to feel you come apart on his fingers right here, right now.

“You liked being fingered on the train, sweetheart?” Minghao rasps into your ear, relentless in his movements as tears start to line your lashes. “Like it when you supposedly hate the man that’s doing this to you? That’s made you this fucking wet?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You’d let him stick his dick into you right now if he wanted, but you know that Minghao isn’t going to risk that just yet. So instead, you focus on the sensation of those skillful fingers—the same ones you’ve dreamt about a long time ago—coaxing out a high you never thought you’d achieve outside the four corners of your bedroom. 

You can think about his stroke game later. Those powerful thighs as he thrusts into you. Not to mention how euphoric it would feel to come around his cock, milking him for that white-hot release until it dribbles down your thighs and he inevitably fucks it all back into you—

The stimulation of Minghao’s dexterous digits coupled with the thrill of being caught are the main players for today’s debauchery, but it’s that particular fantasy that pushes you over the edge. 

One moment, you feel like you’re on top of the world again, and the next you can taste blood in your mouth with how hard you bite against your lip to muffle your moans. A gush of slick coats Minghao’s fingers as he helps you ride out of your orgasm, peppering the side of your face with butterfly kisses.

“Pretty little whore, coming in record time,” he chuckles.

You can barely just start taming your breathing when Minghao takes his fingers out of your panties—tugging your skirt down back to semi-decency before prodding those same fingers against your lips. Still dazed from the high he just let you experience, you open your mouth, lathering your tongue against each digit as the tangy taste of you fills your tastebuds. 

“Good fucking girl.”

The train eases into the next station, and just as Minghao predicted, the car frees up just enough for you to get comfortably seated by the windows again. He sits right next to you the whole time—hand never straying from yours as he holds it firmly in his. For some reason, that gesture of his flusters you more than the stunt he just pulled five minutes ago.

When you both get off the vehicle, the awkwardness begins to settle in your system. You don’t know what you’re supposed to say to him after all of...that. Is there even a protocol to follow after getting finger-fucked on public transportation?

“Hey.”

You startle when Minghao breathes out while the two of you make your way out of the station. It’s the first time he’s broken the silence since arriving, and your heart pounds in anticipation of what he’s about to say next.

“I really am sorry for all the shit I said to you these past few months,” he sighs, rubbing the back of his head like he’s just as clueless about what to do as you are.

You blink up at him. “Um, yeah. You already told me, Hao.”

“I just figured it was worth repeating.”

“Giving me a mindblowing orgasm is a good enough apology on its own, you know.”

He stops walking for a moment, and you look back at him with brows raised.

“Really now?” he asks, and—there’s that smirk again. That no good smirk. “I don’t think I’ve received a ‘good enough apology’ from you yet, sweetheart.”

One glance at his sweats, and sure enough, the evidence of his own raging arousal is still up for grabs. You feel your pussy tingle at the mere thought of what’s to come once you voice out your agreement, even if your overworked muscles are begging for a break.

Oh, well. Might as well stock up on more painkillers on the way.

⟢ end notes: i really really REALLY went overboard on this one and there isn't even any piv sex in action holy fucking shit LMFAO TT to lovely user yourfavoritefreakyhan, i hope i didn't scare you off with the word count JSHFD I REALLY JUST GOT CARRIED AWAY AHAHS hao has been testing me for DAYS and it manifested in this . anyway, pls don't expect every request from my ask game to turn out this fucking long bc this rly was just a heat of the moment creation AJSDHSJHF

[obsidianpen]

What's so great about Harrymort, anyway? This ship basically consists of Stockholm syndrome, power inequality, and abuse. The same can be applied to Tomione but I understand that last one and I even started to appreciate this ship a lot. Hermione is the character most similar to Tom, if she had the ambition that Tom had, she could have become something similar to Voldemort in canon. But beyond that, Hermione is someone Tom/V could respect and have as an ally. She is someone who would be able to rule alongside him, and everyone would benefit from that, since she is fair and good. Also if Tom/V had her by his side, he would be a more stable version than the one in canon. So.. I understand why you like this ship so much but.. the more I think about Harrymort the more I feel disgusted. Harry is not a character that people respect and fear, he is just Harry. Just that. Some random boy. There's nothing special about him, and if it weren't for the horcrux he would already be dead since chapter 1 of the books. Tom/V is a prodigy, one of the most powerful wizards in the books, he wouldn't be interested in someone so ordinary. But let's say yes, that Tom/V is interested in Harry precisely because he is common and average, since they have a similar background - This is difficult to happen, V is not an empathetic character but let's pretend so - and because of the horcrux, of course it's because of the horcrux, that's the only reason, the only thing that makes Harry stand out among the others -not even that came from him lol so sad- If our hypothetical scenario happened, Harry would be a toy for Tom /V -he already is- "ah, but the fun is in how much Harry fights, he was going to fight, that's what he is" oh yes, this argument is the favorite of the Tomarymort fans, huh? He wouldn't be able to fight forever, this character has been in fight or flight mode since the beginning, he'll get tired eventually, V would be able to break him, and do you think V is the type to keep things broken? I don't think so. My point is Tomarymort is a ship that explores abuse, toxic and destructive relationships, physical and psychological torture, Stockholm syndrome etc. And that's fine if you like it but I think we can all agree that this ship and love should NEVER be put in the same sentence . Because love and respect would never exist between these two characters. No matter how good the writer is, some things just don't work. Just become them ooc, that's what happens most lol

Preface: I’m breaking this one down point by point, and then I am never responding to anything similar ever again. I will also not be posting anonymous responses to this. I hate being the middle man for a tumblr shipping war, so I’m not going to participate in that. If you want to respond, you can leave a comment or reblog it into your own page. 💖

What's so great about Harrymort, anyway? 

The drama, the intensity, the wrongness, the clashing of opposites, the most extreme version of enemies to lovers…

This ship basically consists of Stockholm syndrome, power inequality, and abuse. 

In some fics sure, yeah. But these are all really interesting - terrible, yes, but super interesting to dive into. There is a reason people like to read/watch psychological thrillers, horror, etc. I don’t feel like I should have to explain this very massive, common human drive, so I won’t. Go google it!

The same can be applied to Tomione but I understand that last one and I even started to appreciate this ship a lot. 

Cool, you like these things too! And you’re completely allowed to prefer Hermione to Harry. Whatever you want to read.

Hermione is the character most similar to Tom, if she had the ambition that Tom had, she could have become something similar to Voldemort in canon. 

Strong disagree here - she did have that ambition imo, she just… wasn’t evil, and she became Minister of Magic in canon, so. Pretty ambitious and somewhat similar, just in the legal, ‘good’ way.

But beyond that, Hermione is someone Tom/V could respect and have as an ally. 

Mm, no, she was a muggleborn, so in canon, a LOT of major shifts would have needed to happen for her to simply not be killed, or maybe tortured a hunch for fun, first, before eventually… being killed.

She is someone who would be able to rule alongside him, and everyone would benefit from that, since she is fair and good. 

Again, LOTS of things would have had to happen in canon for this to be even remotely possible. Unless you’re imagining some kind of AU where Tom Riddle is the same age as the trio, and they grow up together and can therefore influence each other on more equal footing…? But that’s Tom, not canon Voldemort, and you started this referencing Voldemort.

Also if Tom/V had her by his side, he would be a more stable version than the one in canon. 

Uh, would he? Assuming we’ve jumped over the impossible canon hurdles to get Hermione by Lord Voldemort’s side, by the time Hermione is even in the magical world, he’s been a bodiless spirit with a shredded soul for years. It would be a tall order for Hermione - or anyone - to make him more stable. I like arguing that Harry could sort of manage this in canon because of the horcrux connection, but that’s me making things up that are FAR from canon, and Hermione doesn’t have this. 

So.. I understand why you like this ship so much but.. the more I think about Harrymort the more I feel disgusted. 

Cool, your feelings are valid! You should probably stop thinking about Harrymort for your mental health. You can block tags/keywords/etc on tumblr so that you see less of it.

Harry is not a character that people respect and fear, he is just Harry. Just that. Some random boy. There's nothing special about him, and if it weren't for the horcrux he would already be dead since chapter 1 of the books. 

Well, that’s not true, imo. Harry was the best at Defensive Magic, he was an amazing flier, he is brave and bold and puts his life on the line for others without question - even people who don’t deserve it and who tried to harm him, like Draco. Those are all extraordinary traits that maybe some people make the mistake of ignoring and underestimating. 

Tom/V is a prodigy, one of the most powerful wizards in the books, he wouldn't be interested in someone so ordinary. 

If not for the horcrux, maybe not. But also, maybe. We don’t know what Harry would have been like if he grew up with a normal happy healthy family. Maybe he would have thrived in many ways, and he would have gleaned some interest. But even without that, see above comment to take note of some of Harry’s traits that he has despite growing up in an abusive home. Voldemort said himself that he values bravery. 

But let's say yes, that Tom/V is interested in Harry precisely because he is common and average, since they have a similar background - This is difficult to happen, V is not an empathetic character but let's pretend so - and because of the horcrux, of course it's because of the horcrux, that's the only reason, the only thing that makes Harry stand out among the others -not even that came from him lol so sad- If our hypothetical scenario happened, Harry would be a toy for Tom /V -he already is- "ah, but the fun is in how much Harry fights, he was going to fight, that's what he is" oh yes, this argument is the favorite of the Tomarymort fans, huh? He wouldn't be able to fight forever, this character has been in fight or flight mode since the beginning, he'll get tired eventually, V would be able to break him, and do you think V is the type to keep things broken? I don't think so. 

None of this logic adds up to me. How can you say all this about Harry and not apply it to pretty much everyone else, including Hermione? Voldemort WAS far from empathetic. Canonically. And yeah, sure, no one would be able to fight forever. But if anyone has a fire that would last an infuriatingly long time, I’d argue that it would be Harry. 

My point is Tomarymort is a ship that explores abuse, toxic and destructive relationships, physical and psychological torture, Stockholm syndrome etc. And that's fine if you like it but I think we can all agree that this ship and love should NEVER be put in the same sentence . 

Obviously this depends on what the story is. If it’s a story that explores all those former themes, then it’s probably not a lovey dovey romance anyway. But there are definitely stories that don’t have all those dark subjects, and if someone wants to write a platonic romance where the word love shows up between these two, more power to them! But you don’t get to say everyone in the world can never do a single thing in their fiction. People can write whatever they want! And you get to decide not to read it! Everyone wins.

Because love and respect would never exist between these two characters. No matter how good the writer is, some things just don't work. Just become them ooc, that's what happens most lol

I feel sorry for you. Where is your sense of curiosity, open-mindedness? Maybe you could never write these things convincingly, but some people are more talented than you (don’t take this too personally; no matter how good we are, there are always people more talented than us). It’s okay to not like things and to avoid them based on your comfort level/interest/etc etc, but just because you’re not looking doesn’t mean that such amazing jaw-dropping works that make you believe in the unbelievable aren’t out there.

💖

[danieyells]

care to spoil any interesting dialogue Haku has when you reach higher affinity levels? Would love to know!

Haku's so. . .normal, it's kinda cute? Lol. But yeah I'm pretty down for that! I wanted to share one of these things but held my tongue lolol but since you're asking here're some of the ones that were more interesting or otherwise appealing to me!

I've amended this post to be all of Haku's home screen lines. Enjoy!

Hello: (the first time the game is opened after that character is set as home screen NPC. Only happens once per day, unless the character is switched out and back.)

"Oh, finally here, huh? I'm not really ready for you yet though... Ha ha. Wait over there for me, would you?"

You've Got Mail: (whenever there's something in the inbox, usually Arena rewards)

"Oh, looks like you've got a letter. If you don't open it soon, I might sneak a peek."

Default: (requires no affinity, has no time constraints)

"How's the search for clues about your curse going? Don't put too much pressure on yourself. If you ever want to talk, I'm happy to listen."

"Most people in Hotarubi have something they put their heart and soul into. That doesn't really work for me though. I lose interest in things way too easily."

"What are you doing here? Don't tell me you've gotten yourself mixed up in something again."

this is a very funny one to have him say when i use the sinostra casino as my home screen bg

"Haha. Don't expect too much from me. Ghouls are just glorified street magicians, really. Let's keep it light, huh?"

'glorified street magicians' is a hell of a way to describe. . .a lot of the stigmas we've got going here lmao

"Boo! Ha ha, didn't think you'd get that scared. I was just getting rid of the shadow imp that was sticking to your back... I'm kidding! There was nothing there, I promise."

Affinity 1: (between 5am and 11am)

"...So, how about we take a walk? This dorm's seen better days, so it's tough work checking all the places that need repairs."

Affinity 2: (between 11am and 4pm)

"You've adjusted to life at Darkwick pretty well, haven't you? Not that anomalies and missions are something you'd want to get used to..."

Affinity 3: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Today doesn't really work for me... I'm going to be getting back to the dorm pretty late, so can we do tomorrow instead?"

Affinity 4: (between 8pm and 5am)

"...Hate to be the one to tell you this, but there's something untoward lingering behind you. Don't look! Hah, I was just kidding. It was just a little dust, see?"

Affinity 5: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Twilight has been a lot quieter than usual today... I hope that's not a bad sign."

Affinity 6: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Subaru's just too nice. Keeping all the eccentrics in Hotarubi in check's gotta be rough."

Affinity 7: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Everyone here comes from different backgrounds and has different gifts. There's no reason you should feel out of place."

'we're all unique, including the most ordinary among us.' good lesson!

Affinity 8: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Looks we're going to make it through today without any disasters. At least I hope so."

Affinity 9: (between 8pm and 5am)

"What are you doing out here? You shouldn't walk around at night with your guard down. Don't come crying to me if you get possessed by a fox spirit, you hear?"

Affinity 10: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Your parents ever tell you ghosts would get you if you don't go to bed? For some reason Zenji's the only one who gets spooked when I say that..."

after the reveal that zenji is a ghost this is so funny actually I LOVE THAT ZENJI IS A GHOST WHO'S AFRAID OF GHOSTS AND THE DARK.

Affinity 11: (between 5am and 11am)

"All these geniuses and their lectures are giving me heartburn. Wouldn't mind hearing the woes of someone long-suffering instead every once in a while."

(this sounds cruel but from what i can tell in Japanese he says he'd rather hear stories about hard workers/people who struggled from the bottom than prodigies. Basically he's more interested in, y'know, ordinary folks than people who're really special.)

Affinity 12: (between 11am and 4pm)

"That video I took of Zenji today? I'm just going to do some quick editing and post it. I don't know why he doesn't just focus on content that's more his style..."

Affinity 13: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"I saw Tohma a little while ago. Been a while since we last had a real chat. Sounds like he's got his hands full, as always."

so i initially left this one out of this post because i didn't think much of it but. . .the way Haku regards Tohma is so much more casual than Tohma regards Haku in retrospect, it seems. To Haku, Tohma's just the usual hard worker. Someone he'd actually enjoy having a conversation with. But Tohma speaks to Haku almost as if with suspicion or disdain. . .then again he speaks kind of coldly to Jin too. Maybe that's just how he is with people he kind of knows or views as more on his level. Or it's something more sinister. Who knows.

Affinity 14: (between 5am and 11am)

"Mornin'. You've got a sleep mark on your face. Yeah, right there. Good to know you got a good night's rest."

Affinity 15: (between 5am and 11am)

"You haven't collected all the papers that were supposed to be submitted by today's deadline yet? Who are you waiting on? Got it. I'll go get them for you."

Affinity 16: (between 11am and 4pm)

"I don't mean to scare you, but... be careful with your right leg. Especially when you're in the main building."

Affinity 17: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Getting cold feet when you try to jump into the deep end is just proof you're a normal human being. We're the crazy ones."

Affinity 18: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Can't sleep? In that case, let's go for a little walk. There's actually something I want to talk to you about."

pretty high affinity to be having chats on night walks. . .i wonder what he wanted to talk about.

Affinity 19: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Just having someone you care about at your side is all you really need... Ha ha. That was a little out of character, huh? My bad."

Affinity 20: (between 5am and 11am)

"Oh, you're awake. I was just about to make some tea to wake myself up. Want some?"

Affinity 21: (between 11am and 4pm)

"It's not very often I get to kick back like this in the middle of the day. Maybe I'll take a nap."

Affinity 22: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"None of us wanted to become like this. Living an ordinary life, and dying an ordinary death— why go after more than that?"

He just wants to be normal. And he can't. It's kinda tragic lol

Affinity 23: (between 8pm and 5am)

"(Yawn) Oh, didn't see you there. Haha... Guess I've been letting my sleep debt build up. I'm going to bed."

Affinity 24: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Being cursed really sucks, huh? You can't help but ask yourself, "Why me?" all the time, even when you know it's a question with no answer."

Affinity 25(max): (no time constraints)

"I know I'm being selfish— but sometimes, I wish you'd just forget about me..."

WHY. . .ARE YOU THE SUS ONE AND YOU FEEL BAD THAT YOU'LL BETRAY THEM? DO YOU JUST FEEL LIKE YOU'RE TOO LUCKY HAVING HAD FALLEN FOR SOMEONE NORMAL WHEN YOU KNOW YOU'RE NOT NORMAL ANYMORE? DO YOU FEEL LIKE THE PC DESERVES SOMEONE NORMAL AND TO BE ABLE TO GO BACK TO A NORMAL LIFE BUT BEING WITH YOU GUARANTEES THEY WON'T? WHY DO YOU WANT THEM TO FORGET YOU. . .he's so interesting to me simply because of how much he tries to keep himself apart from his being a ghoul(and, y'know, seeing spirits and shit--) so he can try and just be any other guy. . .and he can't lol his surroundings, who and what he is, he can't go back to being normal! It's a charming way to have a boy next door sort of personality i think lol

Spring: (March-May) (between 5am and 11am)

"I've been noticing more birds in the garden lately. Is that a bush warbler? A white-eye, maybe? A lot going on during spring in Hotarubi."

Boy knows his birbs.

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Heading into another nice, warm afternoon. Maybe I should take a nap...? Oops, nearly forgot I promised Zenji I'd film him."

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Must be nice being a ghost—no hayfever, and no hangovers. Spring really is the embodiment of human weakness."

How drunk did you get last night buddy. . . .

(between 8pm and 5am)

"My family home is pretty famous in our area for its cherry blossoms... When I was a kid, my friends and I used to go exploring through them at night."

Summer: (June-August) (between 5am and 11am)

"It's so humid... Days like this make me miss Frostheim..."

He's former Frostheim! Maybe that's why he and Tohma seem to have some history. There's also Jin's friend who left that Tohma helped to switch houses. . .but Haku was a second year then so would he have needed it?

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Today, I've got to go round and check the stalls for the festival Hotarubi is holding— wouldn't want any dangerous charlatans sneaking their way in."

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Zenji's off roaming around somewhere again... People are more sensitive this time year, so I wish he'd just stay put..."

AGAIN, BEFORE WE LEARNED HE WAS A GHOST I READ THIS AND THOUGHT PEOPLE HE MEANT LIKE. . .SENSITIVE EMOTIONALLY TO NOISE AND ZENJI'S BIWA PLAYING. I DID NOT REALIZE THAT HE WAS WORRIED PEOPLE WOULD REALIZE ZENJI WAS THERE.

(between 8pm and 5am)

"You're not going to wear a yukata? Eh, I just thought it'd be cute to see. That's the kind of thing guys think about, don't know what else to tell you."

It reads like he's a little disappointed the girl he's into friends with isn't gonna wear something he thinks is cute lol

Autumn: (September-November) (between 5am and 11am)

"They say fall is the season of the arts, but I'm a really mediocre flute player. I'm about as uncultured as you can get."

funny thing for an ex-frostheimer to say.

(between 11am and 4pm)

"You can hear the biwa, right? He's been going for three hours now. People are going to start getting pissed off, so I'll go tell him to stop soon."

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Nightfall can catch you unaware this time of year. It'll be dark soon, so let me know when you're planning to head home. I'll walk you back to the cathedral."

(between 8pm and 5am)

"It's a stunner of a night. Maybe I'll grab a drink and do a little moon gazing."

don't drink too much you're trying to quit smoking, the solution isn't to replace it with another addiction--

Winter: (December-February) (between 5am and 11am)

"You'll catch a cold dressed like that. It's already pretty chilly out there, you know... Here, take my coat."

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Winter rain really chills you to the bone. Sorry, walking through the garden must be rough for you this time of year. Come a little closer."

I'm a bit of a sucker for huddling together in the cold lol

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"It's cold again today. Now that I think of it, Subaru said he wanted to make hotpot with everyone. Guess I'll go grab some things and make it happen."

(between 8pm and 5am)

"Your hands hurt because of the cold? Let me see. Oh yeah, your fingertips are all red. Here, stick them in my pockets."

Is that your flute in your pocket or are you completely unaffected by the cold

His birthday: (July 26th)

"Wait, you got me a birthday present? You're so conscientious. Oh, I didn't mean it in a bad way. Thanks, I appreciate it."

Your birthday:

"Hey, come over here a sec. Here. It's nothing special, but I got you a something. Today's your birthday, right?"

why is this worded like he's asking you to come into a shady alley in secret to give you a birthday gift lmao

New Years: (January 1st)

"Happy New Year. I know it's a cliché, but I hope this year's a good one for you."

Valentine's Day: (February 14th)

"Whoa, chocolate? I didn't think you'd give them to me too. Guess I better think of something good to get you in return."

White Day: (March 14th)

"Here, for the chocolate you got me last month. I wasn't sure what you'd like, so I got the ones I remember you said were good."

April Fool's Day: (April 1st)

"A bunch of spirits have been following you around all day, are you okay? Psych, just kidding. Seriously, I was joking, I swear."

Halloween: (October 31st)

"Looks like you've had your fair share of tricks today. I'll narrow down your options and just make it a treat, then."

Christmas: (December 25th)

"You look like you're having fun. Do you have a present for me, Little Miss Santa? Haha, I'm just kidding. Here you go. Merry Christmas."

Idle: (about 20 seconds without interacting with the game) (below 13 affinity)

"...Hey, you alive? Not much point me just standing here waiting around. Guess I'll take off."

(13 affinity and above)

"I know I look like a slacker, but I do have stuff to do. Guess I'll nap till she gets back."

Absent: (logging in for the first time in 2 or more days?)

"Hey there, stranger. Everyone's missed you, you know. ...Even I was starting to get a little worried."

Those're the ones that're most interesting to me I think! 'u' there are some that aren't up there though, like some of the ones that show him being responsible and worrying about his teammates haha. Hope you don't mind my little commentary here and there!

A while later and I've amended this post to include all of the home screen voicelines, not just the ones that appealed to me most in that moment! Haku's interesting in how. . .normal he is. Aside from the seeing spirits and things anyway lmao. He's just a casual flirt who wants to escape the abnormality that his becoming a ghoul got him. I feel like his lines don't really reveal anything about him. . .but also 19 in particular feels. . .a little lonely? Maybe because of how he had to leave Frostheim, he doesn't really feel as connected to the Hotarubi ghouls yet, compared to how he was with Jin before? Or, if he is the spy, he feels like all of his relationships are fake. . .and man that 'I wish you'd just forget about me' line is sad but also SO SUSPICIOUS. WHO SAYS THAT IF THEY DON'T PLAN ON LEAVING YOU OR STABBING YOU IN THE BACK.

[verdantcrimson]

Kanna Natsu Idol Story - 2

Written by: Akira

Season: Spring

TL: verdantcrimson

Proofread: @revuestarlight

[Two years since ES was established. In the ES building infirmary.]

Kanna: ……

Hinata: Goood morning!

Yuta: Today, we’re thinking of playing a hidden camera prank on the talk of the town, child prodigy, Kanna Natsu, when he wakes up!

Hinata: Because both of us in 2wink love pranks!

Yuta: —and since we've been in the business for the while, the agency was like, “C'mon, show your junior how things work around here. You guys love that sort of stuff, right?” 

Hinata: There's a difference between playing a prank and bullying, though!

Yuta: But we can't disobey the agency. That's just life, y'know? We've gotta work hard and pull this off in order to maintain our character image.

Hinata: Why do you seem weirdly pumped about this, Yuta-kun?

Yuta: This guy is Kanna Natsu, y'know…… Everyone's making a fuss about what a genius he is, but he's still just a brat, and seeing him get more attention than us pisses me off.

Yuta: We've gotta punish this ill-mannered newbie, don't we?

Hinata: Whoops, it's getting hard to keep my brother's wickedness in check these days, yknow~?

Hinata: Ah, but he's acting like this on purpose because that's the kind of image he's decided on! Yuta-kun is actually a good kid!

Hinata: All of you watching at home, please don't misunderstand!

Yuta: Hell yeah, that's the perfect excuse. Now, no matter how cruel and inhumane I behave, I can just say it's because my agency or my producer told me to play that sort of character.

Yuta: I can use that to justify my bullying. Hehehe. 

Hinata: How wicked… Looking at you these days makes your big brother worry, Yuta-kun.

Hinata: …..Hm?

Kanna: ……

Kanna: ……?

Hinata: I knew this would happen. Look, look, Yuta-kun! Natsu-kun is awake already! 

Yuta: Huh, No way. He looked like he was fast asleep— Maybe we made too much of a racket?

Hinata: What should we do? Should we abort mission? I didn't really want to do an unfunny and old-school prank like that anyways, so I'm fine with it.

Yuta: It sounds like you were making a fuss on purpose so that the plan would fail.

Kanna: Good morning.

Hinata: Ah, yup. Morning. You sure slept well.

Kanna: Yes, thank you. Though sleeping isn't something I do for leisure.

Kanna: I don't get the opportunity to sleep when I'm occupied with research, so I try to sleep as much as I can whenever I find time.

Kanna: Also, if I pretend to be asleep, everyone will leave me alone.

Hinata: Oh, so you were just pretending to be asleep? Then, did you realize we were trying to prank you?

Kanna: Yes. Though, even when I'm asleep, one half of my brain stays awake.

Yuta: Are you a dolphin?

Hinata: That's so genius-core.

Kanna: I think anyone could do it with enough training. 

Yuta: Tsk tsk tsk. It's exactly because all that training is so tedious that nobody would ever be able to make a name for themselves as a genius.

Kanna: I see. I understand now.

Kanna: I think that if anyone focused all their efforts on a single thing for approximately a year, they could become an expert in that field. 

Kanna: Only a child like myself would be able to concentrate on a single thing for as long as they want to, correct?

Kanna: Any adult, I mean, essentially everyone, requires time to eat, play, socialize, and maintain their physical and mental health.

Kanna: It is quite difficult to concentrate on a single thing.

Kanna: That is why they fall short of success. Yes, people who are able to do that to some extent from the very beginning— Only they are successful and lauded as geniuses.

Kanna: If everyone is limited to only being able to spend a fraction of their time on their efforts, then only those who are privileged are able to succeed and win.

Kanna: That is the reason, correct? It's logical. I can understand this.

Hinata: I've been wondering, what on earth is this kid going on about…?

Yuta: You like making theories about other people based on their behavior and then feeling like you've understood them, don't you?

Kanna: Yes. Because I'm around that age. That's adolescence, I suppose.

Hinata: Yeah, well I don't believe that! If you treated any older kid like a ‘teenage brat’ they'd get angry and rebel. They'd never admit that they're going through puberty!

Kanna: Maybe that was just the case for you, Yuta Aoi.

Hinata: … Oh? Huh? Ermm?

Kanna: It's easier to live when you believe that your ‘normal’ and the world's ‘normal’ aren't congruent.

Kanna: I've long since given up on that sort of premise.

Kanna: I'm different from everyone else. I'm certain, nothing can be done about this.

Hinata: Ummm… I'm terribly sorry if we're boring you or something, but I think there's been a misunderstanding, so let me clear it up.

Hinata: I'm Hinata.

Yuta: And I'm Yuta.

Kanna: No.

Kanna: I know about you two. The twin idols from Cosmic Productions, 2wink.

Kanna: The two of you have changed your marketing strategy as of late, with the older brother Hinata continuing to present as a cheerful a good kid—

Kanna: —While the younger brother, Yuta, differentiates himself from his older brother by growing out his hair and selling a ‘bad kid’ image.

Kanna: That is what the established theory is.

Hinata: The established ‘theory’?

Yuta: Those are just facts.

Kanna: What are illusions?

Hinata: Huh, why'd you bring that up suddenly? What are you talking about?

Kanna: An illusion, or ‘sleight of hand’, is something that takes advantage of people's imagination.

Kanna: You make the world think that ‘the twins have differentiated their appearances and begun walking separate paths.’

Kanna: That way, you can do as much deception as you please.

Kanna: The twins that are supposedly never interchangeable, swap places in secret. Older brother becomes younger brother. Younger brother becomes older brother.

Kanna: Characteristic differences in hair length can also be accounted for using wigs and such.

Kanna: People tend to assume based on their prior knowledge, that ‘the one with longer hair must be the younger brother,’ since both brothers have similar facial features and so on.

Hinata: … Even if all of that were true, what good would it do for us to impersonate each other?

Kanna: Simply put, you two probably just enjoy those sorts of tricks.

Kanna: Furthermore, there are countless merits to being able to switch places. That is probably why having twins swap places is considered taboo, even in the most hard-core of detective novels.

Kanna: It's simply too convenient. It'd be used to forge alibis to no end, because now, anything goes.

Kanna: Additionally, if you succeed at your trivial ‘swapping places’ prank, you'd be able to make a fool of the child prodigy brat that everyone is making a fuss about, correct?¹

Kanna: You'd be able to say “That kid acts like he's a genius, but he's an oblivious idiot who couldn't even notice we switched places.”

Hinata & Yuta: ……

Kanna: 2wink is a unit comprised of a ‘good kid’ older brother and a ‘bad kid’ younger brother.

Kanna: Recently, it seems as though the two of them have truly diverged and are trying to pursue their own paths.

Kanna: That is why. Even if the younger brother was specifically requisitioned for work that would earn him points or experience as a ‘good kid’— The older brother would swap in and take his place. The reverse applies as well.

Kanna: So the two of you steadily gain experience and continue growing, correct?

Kanna: You're each trying to specialize in being a ‘good kid’ and ‘bad kid’.

Kanna: Waiting for an opportunity, with nobody any wiser.

Yuta: ……

Kanna: I don't have much interest in anything. However, I find your impressive tactics very interesting. 

Kanna: I'm not trying to get in your way. However, by exposing your actions like this, I can render your footage unfit for broadcast.

Kanna: Even if what I said just now might be untrue.

Kanna: If the world's people begin to doubt you, you'll have a hard time operating. They might begin to think things like “Maybe they've swapped places?” or “Are they playing tricks?”

Kanna: All the earnest and serious people of the world will begin to view you poorly.

Kanna: That probably would not be desirable for you.

Kanna: I apologize. Being filmed and broadcasted in my sleep is quite embarrassing.

Kanna: That is why I have taken these preventative measures to keep it from occurring. Please understand that I bear no ill-will towards the two of you.

Kanna: That is all. I'm going to go back to bed now. Goodnight.

Kanna: Zzz, zzz.

Yuta: ……

Hinata: … He ended up being the real deal.

Yuta: Yeah. I figured it was just the usual hype you see on TV and magazines.

Hinata: (But really, I never thought he'd notice we ‘switched’.)

Yuta: (Yup. I thought nobody could tell. But this kid saw through us, probably just through a glimpse of our activities on the news or on the internet.)

Hinata: (To top it all off, just in case— He made sure we wouldn't get in trouble even if we did air it, by following it up with “what I said might be untrue.”)

Yuta: (He didn't want to inconvenience us, so he acted considerately.)

Hinata: (This brat sure acts full of himself. I ought to scribble on his face while he sleeps.)

Yuta: (Give it a rest already... Let sleeping gods lie, Yuta-kun.)²

Hinata: (You're such a good kid, Hinata-kun.)

Yuta: (And you’re a bad kid, right, Yuta-kun?)

Kanna: Zzz, zzz…♪

Hinata: (This kid might be incredible— more than anyone could imagine.)

Yuta: (But his sleeping face is adorable, just like any other normal kid's would be, y’know)

Translation notes

He's repeating back the same phrases that Hinata and Yuta used to describe him while he was 'sleeping'..

The original saying is '触らぬ神に祟りなし' which is means the same thing as 'let sleeping dogs lie', but I retained the 神 portion because I figured it might be a fun play on Kanna's first name '神無'

[cece693]

tony stark x male reader who’s kinda shy and quiet but crazy good at math and science and all those equations. something fluffy and cute thank youuuuuuu

Brilliant (Tony Stark x M! Reader)

Announcement: for those who have been following my Velvet Ring trilogy fic, I've created an AO3 account where I intend to flesh out the story. Here's the link! Also, since I'm not smart myself, I didn't go in-depth about science and calculations, so forgive me :(

Tony Stark was many things: a genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist—but being in a committed relationship? That wasn’t exactly the headline he wanted plastered all over the news. Not because he was ashamed—far from it—but because Tony had learned the hard way that the world had a way of ruining what mattered most. And you? You mattered more than anything.

You were everything Tony wasn’t—quiet, thoughtful, reserved. While Tony thrived in the spotlight, you thrived in the solace of your work, diving deep into equations and theories that would leave most people with a headache. You were a prodigy in your own right, a quiet storm of brilliance and ingenuity. The kind of man who didn’t seek recognition, only results. Tony couldn’t help but admire that about you—and, though he’d never admit it out loud, you kept him grounded in a way no one else could.

Tonight, you were sprawled out on the couch in your shared apartment, wearing a faded hoodie and sweatpants you’d stolen from Tony long ago. A notebook rested on your lap, filled with scribbled formulas and diagrams. The room was quiet, save for the occasional scratch of your pen against paper.

The sound of the front door opening broke your focus. Tony stepped inside, tie loosened and suit jacket draped over his arm. He looked tired, but his eyes lit up when they landed on you.

“Hey, handsome,” he greeted, his voice warm as he crossed the room. “What did I say about math after ten?”

You glanced up, rolling your eyes. “You said it’s a house rule. I said it’s not enforceable.”

Tony smirked, plucking the notebook from your hands before dropping it onto the coffee table. Sitting beside you, he wrapped one arm around your shoulders, your head tucked into the crook of his neck. “You were late,” you muttered, resting your head against his shoulder. “Everything okay?”

“Just the usual corporate nonsense,” Tony replied, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You know how it is—saving the world, keeping the board happy. Exhausting, really. I’m practically a saint.”

You huffed a quiet laugh, but instead of responding, your eyes kept flickering toward the discarded notebook on the table. After a moment, you shifted slightly in his hold, trying to reach for it. Tony groaned dramatically, tightening his grip.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” he said, pulling you closer. “I just got home, and you’re trying to ditch me for math? Do you have any idea how lonely I’ve been? I’ve been deprived of your presence all day, and this—” he gestured at the notebook—“is more important?”

You bit back a laugh, managing to wiggle out of his grasp. “I promise it'll be worth it."

Tony crossed his arms, slumping back against the couch like a sulking child. “Fine, but if I die from lack of cuddles and attention it's on you.”

Grabbing the notebook, you turned back to him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “You look fine. And for the record, this 'math' you're referring to is yours."

That caught his attention. His brows furrowed as he sat up straighter, his earlier theatrics forgotten. “Mine?”

You nodded, flipping open the notebook and holding it out to him. “You mentioned the other night that you were having issues with stabilizing the power output on the Iron Man suit. I’ve been working on it.”

Tony’s eyes scanned the pages, his expression softening with each line he read. Your neat handwriting detailed calculations, theories, and possible solutions. You’d even diagrammed potential fixes, complete with annotations on how they’d improve efficiency. “You’ve been working on this?” he asked, his voice quieter now. “For me?”

“Well, yeah,” you said, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal. “I know it’s been frustrating you, so I thought I’d try to help.”

For once, Tony Stark was speechless. His eyes flickered between you and the notebook, the weight of your gesture hitting him like a freight train. You’d spent your time—not for your own research or projects, but to solve one of his problems. It wasn’t just the effort or the brilliance of your work—it was the care behind it, the way you always seemed to go out of your way to make his life a little easier.

Tony set the notebook aside, reaching for you instead. His hands cupped your face, his gaze warm and filled with an emotion he rarely let himself feel this deeply. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice thick with gratitude. “I don’t deserve you.”

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours, soft and full of affection. It wasn’t the usual teasing kiss he’d steal when he was being playful—it was deeper, more vulnerable. A silent thank you, a promise that he’d never take you for granted. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and he smiled. “You’re too good to me.”

You laughed softly, your hands resting on his chest. “You’re worth it, Stark. Even if you are a little dramatic sometimes.” Tony chuckled, pulling you into another kiss, his heart full and his mind already spinning with ideas. If this was what it felt like to be loved by you, then he never wanted to let it go.

[nutcasewithaknife]

I've been obsessed with Jiang Cheng since halfway through my first watch of cql, and here's why. He always keeps doing better than I expect him to.

(wow, this got long. rest is under the cut!)

He's introduced as the brother-killer, the ruthless sect leader with a reputation for being merciless. Then cut to the flashback, a Jiang Cheng who is fifteen, surrounded by his sister and brother and happy about it, occasionally doing stupid teenager things, trying so very hard to be Ideal Heir, while Wei Wuxian is the prodigy that keeps stealing his thunder effortlessly. And you go, "oh, I know this story. It's a tragedy, because these brothers loved each other once, but one's ambition will eventually breed jealousy which will fester into hate and end, tragically, in the death of the better half." It's Cain and Abel! You've seen how it ends, it's the first scene you see, of course that's where it's going!

And then you see how the three siblings help each other survive a frankly horrible and abusive household. They try to do for each other what their parents couldn't; Yanli tries to be their mother, Jiang Cheng doesn't believe the rumours about Wei Wuxian being jfm's illegitimate son or hold it against him as he very easily could've learnt to from his mother, and Wei Wuxian does his darned best to get jfm to acknowledge and love his son as he does for Wei Wuxian.

You keep waiting for the other shoe to drop!! Yunmeng burns, Jiang Cheng chokes his brother in the rain, and you think this is it, this is where it finally breaks. But he sticks with his brother and sister, he makes some stupid decisions in his grief and pays dearly for it. When he wakes up without a core he is broken, his 'ambition' is destroyed, and you remember him choke his brother and think this is it, and then... it isn't. Other than the one grieving rant in the rain, he never blames his brother for their loss, never demands that he fix it all. When Wei Wuxian does come with a solution, Jiang Cheng doesn't act like it's something he was owed. It's his brother, his brilliant genius brother, who miraculously fixed this impossible thing! He's the most Jiang of them all, of course he achieved the impossible!

And then he's the young sect leader in a bloody war, needing to win, needing to prove his worth and his sect's worth at every turn. This is where he becomes the ruthless, powerful man we meet in the first few episodes! Only.... he finds Wen Qing, who is the enemy in the eyes of the Jianghu, and offers to protect her (only her because he knows his limits, he can't protect all her people and his own, and his duty to his sect is first). He goes looking for his brother, months on end, haggard to the bone.

Then Wei Wuxian shows up wielding a power that's the worst taboo in their world, a power frighteningly similar to the power-drunk villain that they war is being waged against! He's doing unspeakable things, terrible torture in the name of revenge! Ah, so this is what it finally is! The moment they finally fall out for good, where Jiang Cheng cannot abide to tarnish his sect's reputation with Wei Wuxian's, and their love turns to hate.

But.... Jiang Cheng sees what he's done, and the first thing he does is to hug him tight. He asks about Wei Wuxian not carrying his sword, but even after the diplomatic nightmare of a war council, Jiang Cheng is just worrying. It's the most open, the most honest we've seen him so far, and he is concerned for his brother. He shuts it down when Jin Zixun tries to pick a fight. He takes responsibility for the person everyone's wary of, because that's his brother and he trusts him! He's hiding things, yes, but one day he will be ready to talk and Jiang Cheng will wait till then.

Then the war's won (by Wei Wuxian, of course!) and he has a sect to rebuild. And his brother is not at his side. First he's slacking off and drinking around town, then he runs away with the Wens to the Burial Mounds. It's terrible for the sect's and Jiang Cheng's own precarious position in Jianghu. Surely, this is the last thread of Jiang Cheng's love for his brother, the beginning of the man we were introduced to? But it's fucking not! Yes, he's frustrated. Yes, he's mad. And yet, he doesn't force his sister into a diplomatically advantageous marriage (which I strongly believe is the bare minimum of being a decent human being, but is something that wouldn't have been a questionable or dishonourable thing for him to do in the culture and world this story is set in) because she is not a pawn and he respects her choice above the politics! He tries to defend his First Disciple, his brother, and is overshadowed by much more powerful leaders who are bigoted and/or afraid of his power. And when it all goes to shit, they fight! This is the end of it, surely? But no! It's all fake! They fight, make up a lie about how the Yunmeng Jiang has supressed Wei Wuxian and his Wens in the Burial Mounds so they can live without being under attack for however long, and then have shady meetups to discuss their nephew's name!!

In the carnage of Nightless City, their sister dies at his hands, and the horrible realisation dawns that this is what pushes them over the brink, literally. And then!! AND THEN!!!!! EVEN THEN IT WASN'T ENOUGH FOR HIM TO KILL HIS BROTHER!!! The first scene was a lie, WEI WUXIAN HAD TO THROW HIMSELF OFF!!!!!! And when he's finally back, what does Jiang Cheng do? Kill him? ban him from ever returning to their home? No! He wants to drag him back home and make him apologise, explain himself!!

A lot of this is very focused on the brothers, but even outside of that, Jiang Cheng keeps subverting the expectations that the story builds for him right in the beginning. For all the talks of 'disciplining' his nephew (which could unquestionably entail some form of corporal punishment, as we see in other parts of the story) and the childhood Jiang Cheng himself had, the idea of his Jiujiu raising his hand against him is unthinkable to the point of incredulity for Jin Ling. When Jin Ling has his breakdown over Suihua on the Lotus Pier docks, I was full bracing myself for Jiang Cheng to yell at him for crying in public without any shame or dignity, but what does he do? Calls his nephew to his side and demands to know who made him cry, so he can fucking wreck them for daring to do that! He has a mere day to process the Golden Core reveal, and after all the yelling, he actually apologises to his brother!!

Then, in the mother of all sucker-punch moments, we find out that the one grief-riddled, frustrating moment of apparent stupidity whose domino effect this entire thing has been, was in fact Jiang Cheng willingly sacrificing himself, sect be damned, to save his brother and sister. And like!! How do you have such a character who simultaneously is and is not what he seems to be!!!

I (and a lot of the audience) immediately played into the simple brotherhood-destroyed-by-jealousy plot that it seems to be at first, but that's the intention! The entire story keeps showing how misleading, how vicious rumours can be and how horribly it can affect who someone is in the eyes of society. We see this happen in the story, of course, but the narrative also relies on the audience to make the same mistake, to take the tropes that seem obviously implied at the start, and then unravels the true complexity of the story as it moves forward. We got played by the narrative and it was so worth it!! Wei Wuxian is the prime example, of course, but cql (and mdzs from what I gather, though I haven't read the books) does it with such nuance and brilliance for Jiang Cheng, how do you not immediately lose your entire mind about it for the rest of forever!!!!!

[heinouscolette]

Study Muffin

Genderbent!Loud Siblings x Reader

Linka groans from the sight of her paper. Her test was marked with an F. She rests her head on the desk, defeated. “I don't get it, Claudia. Usually, I'm a good student but lately it's been all C's and D's and now an F.”

Claudia grabbed Linka’s test paper and grimaced at it. “Ugh, and a frowny face too. Girl, I cannot.” Claudia’s reply made Linka groan even more, disturbing others around them. “If I don't turn this around, I could fail fifth grade!”

“Linka, you can't! If I go to middle school without you, I could fall in with the wrong social group, and get frosted lips, and start being into bubble nails." Claudia shivered.

Linka just stared at her best friend blankly almost lost hope but she remembered she knew someone who could get her to tutor.

That is… no other than Levi!

“No.” Levi refused while staring blankly at his sister. The two siblings are at home. Linka approached her brother the first thing after she came home from school.

“But, Levi!” Linka whined, Levi is the only one who could help her right now as he is the prodigy intellectually among her brothers. With no way out, she tried to do puppy dog eyes at him to try and persuade her younger brother to give in and help her.

“Cute, but you really thought that would work on me? Sorry, Link. Unfortunately I am completely booked. I got math with Lars on Mondays, geology with Lynn on Tuesdays, finger painting with Leon on Wednesdays, et cetera et cetera." He showed Linka his schedule for the rest of the month which made the girl sigh.

“Oh, since you did the puppy eye thing, I’ll give you an advice. I've heard through the tutoring grapevine that some high school students tutor for extra credit.” With that, Levi turned to walk away from Linka.

“Hey, you said the puppy eye thing didn’t work!”

“Oh, pish-posh.” Levi grinned and left. At a distance, he could be heard yelling at Loni about being tardy with the Pre-Cal tutoring session.

Your phone dinged as someone sent you a message about being interested of booking you as a tutor. Finally, the time has come! You’ve been growing anxious about being a tutor. Although this isn’t the first time teaching another student, it’s still nerve-wracking since it’s a stranger this time.

It really wasn’t your idea to offer tutoring sessions but your friend suggested that it might be a good idea to build an image for college applications in the future.

You opened the message and found that you would be tutoring a fifth grader since she’s bound to flunk if she continues to fail the remedial. Your body relaxed a little knowing the lessons would be a bit easier to teach and nothing could go wrong.

You ringed the door bell to what you assumed the Loud Residence as this was the address the tutee gave you. Within a minute, a young girl with striking white hair opened the door for you and gave you a welcoming smile. “Hello, is this the Loud Residence?” you gave her your professional smile you practiced prior.

Her eyes glimmered and gave you an affirming nod. “Yep! You must be my tutor. I am Linka.”

After introducing yourself, she led you to their dining table and set up her textbooks. “I really appreciate this, (Y/n). I have a big multi-subject test coming up, and I need to ace it.”

You smiled at her, “I’m sure you’ll be able to ace it, but after thorough assessments from our sessions of course. So, I’ll do my best to help you.”

“And I thought that angels only exist in heaven.” Linka dramatically says while clenching her fist on top of her chest. You only laughed at her.

“So, I'm like, if you literally don't know the difference between rugby and football— Oh, Linka brought a new girl friend around.” A male voice spoke which caught both of your attention. His tone was a bit playful.

“Loki, get out! Can’t you see we’re studying here?” Linka hissed but the boy never faltered. “Oh really? This is our kitchen, Link. I can do whatever I want.” You turned to look at him as you can feel his presence between you and Linka. He ruffled Linka’s hair, satisfied at annoying his sister.

Must be a family of blondes. Loki has a common blonde hair compared to Linka. He also has a light stubble that complimented that growing smirk of his. He suddenly turned his head and made eye contact with you. “Don’t ogle too much, it’ll be harder to concentrate.” He grinned at you, but instead of being flustered, his comment only irked you.

“Wipe that smirk off your face before I do it for you.” You undoubtedly replied not thinking it through. You only came to your senses when it suddenly became quiet and Loki looked at you dumbfounded. Your cheeks became flushed and felt embarrassed. What were you doing in your first day of tutoring?!

You hanged your head low, mentally facepalming yourself. You’re sure Loki caught on about your reply. “Yeah, right! Give him an uppercut!” Linka instigated.

Yeah… an uppercut…

While looking down, you saw that Loki dropped his phone and handed it to him. “Loki, you dropped your phone.” However, when you looked up, you’re sure that his cheeks were tinted pink or maybe your eyes were just playing with you.

His silence broke Linka from her uppercut suggestions. “Loki, are you okay?”

Loki rubs the nape of his neck and trying to build “I uh… I am… I’m fi—“

“I heard a goose! I call dibs!" A young blonde came into view holding a net, however upon seeing you, he was a bit confused. “What’s a pretty stranger doing in this house?!”

“A what?” Another boy came into the kitchen. He’s wearing a clay mask and has cucumber slices in his eyes. He removes the slices and made eye contact with you. “AAH! MY FACE!”

Yep, a family of blondes. Your claim was disproven immediately when the rest of the siblings came into the kitchen probably curious about the commotion.

Ah… there are lots of them.

All of them started talking at the same time. Unfortunately, you can’t comprehend any of this as their voices became inaudible. You just stared at them amused of how this family caters a lot of siblings.

The one who cleansed his on-going skincare came back and greeted you. “Hey, guys. Oh, Linka, I didn't know you were entertaining. Hi. I'm Loni.” Is this guy for real? He acted as if he wasn't here minutes ago. You can’t help but let out a laugh about his silliness which caught the siblings’ attention.

You became self-conscious when they all stared at you. Their stares made you a bit shy. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m Linka’s tutor, (Y/n). It’s nice to meet you all.” You nervously laugh.

“Ugh, could all of you please get out? We’re trying to study!” Linka snapped at them but the sibling with a crown pushed a chair between Linka and I, and sat, "It's a free country, Linka. We can go where we want to."

"I'm standing here!" The boy with the net stood next to you while smiling ear to ear. You're now trapped between these cuties. They resemble each other, must be twins.

"The heck you are!" The princely twin retorted, but before any punches were thrown you immediately disputed it. "Boys, I know you're interested in joining Linka and I, but she can't concentrate if eyes are observing her." You grabbed something from your purse

"And mouths yapping" Linka raised an eyebrow at his brothers.

"Yes- wait-, what I mean is she can't focus if there are distractions." You grabbed something from your purse. "Here, I'll give these to you since I'm hoping you'll behave accordingly." You handed each twin a lollipop and gave them a wink.

Their smiles grew wide and immediately shoved it in their mouths. "Roger that!" They saluted and walked away with puffed chests. You turned to the remaining brothers. "We'll just occupy the space for a couple of hours, if you don't mind."

"No problem, Love." A brunette with a faux hawk leaned his arm on your chair gave you a boyish smile. "You can be here anytime of the day. You can even join me on my rock sessions upstair-- Ow! Lane!" On instinct, you leaned your head away when a brunette with braces karate chopped his head. "No, you're not, you just want both of your strings to get attached. Haha! Get it? Strings!"

"Come on, (Y/n)! Let's go somewhere a little less crowded." Linka dragged you away from her swarming brothers. She's clearly annoyed with her brows furrowed.

She led the both of you to the living room and settled on the couch. When she was opening the textbooks, voices were heard outside the house. "The one who catches Geo wins!" The younger brothers were playing in competition with each other, and Linka could see that they were showing off to impress her tutor.

"What are they doing?! They're literally disturbing you. I'm sorry, (Y/n)." Loki sat next to you on the couch and started typing on his phone. His presence made you a bit shy, being this close made you notice his arms' lean muscles, and his full eyebrows. You instantly looked away as he might caught on that you were staring. "Ooh, Linka, you have so many books. What's the story about?" You were caught off guard by a voice coming from behind you. When you turned your head, you saw Loni peeking his head behind the couch. He emits a clean and sweet scent, and he also looks neat.

"I think it'll be better if we went to my room instead." Linka gathered her books and gave the stink eye to her older brothers while escorting you to her room. They only responded with a smirk. Living with ten brothers her whole life, Linka knew what her brothers' antics are all about. They can't even hide that their expressions are living subtitles of their intensions.

After entering upstairs, you saw a brother with an eyeglass interrupting Linka for dragging you to her room, “I need to borrow (Y/n) for a second. I'm tutoring Lexx.” She only gave him a questioning look. You look your tutee with worry, but maybe it wouldn’t hurt to help a little.

“Okay, but I can’t stay for more than 5 minutes. I’ll just explain an specific topic they’re having a hard time with.” Levi stared at you with a creepy smile and made a creepy giggle to go along with it.

“This is called a gluteus maximus, otherwise known as the butt.” Levi pointed his pointing stick at the side of your ass cheek. "Wait, what?!" You jerked away from Levi face flushed from embarrassment. You held your hands up to the level of your bust and backed away. "I'm so sorry, I know it's educational but I think I'm not the the best model-- Oof!" Your back bumped into someone's torso. Before you could apologize you were interrupted, "Don't worry about it, (Y/n). These boys are just getting cheeky." Lane came in and pinched both Levi and Lexx's ears which earned a yelp from each sibling. "Wait, I just made a pun! Get it? Cheeky?" Lane laughed to himself.

"All right, all right, CLASS DISMISSED!" Linka grabs your arm and dragged you away from the scene.

"I'm sorry about that, (Y/n)." Linka opened her door and got scared when a goth kid started talking "I wrote a poem about you. (Y/n). Pretty face. Mysterious eyes. Pretty cool for a living girl. (Y/n)."

"Everybody out!" Lexx screamed at Linka's door. "It's time for The Knight, The Princess and The Dragon. You're the Princess, (Y/n). You don't have to do anything your beauty is enough." Lexx giggled. "Lexx, what did we agree on earlier?" You raised a questioning eyebrow at him. "Oopsies." Lexx nervously laughed and bowed before leaving Linka's room.

"Finally, we can get down to business." Linka rejoiced and set her books on bed. "I'm so sorry about my brothers, (Y/n)."

"I'm sorry too, Linka. I should've been more stern with your brothers because tutoring you is my priority." You apologized too. "It's okay, you just met us. I'm sure you just wanted to help." Linka is so cute and can't help but hug her at being understanding. You girls laughed and continued studying.

Hours later, Linka completed the assessments you provided for her. Surprisingly, she got good marks. "Linka, you're spot-on in all of your lessons. Even surrealist art." Linka looked at her assessment scores in confusion, "It's weird. I thought I needed so much help."

"May I ask what happened the day you failed your test?"

"Well, Mr. DiMartino became the substitute for the day--" "Wait Mr. DiMartino? The hunk teacher in elementary?" You laughed at Linka but she only gave you a questioning look. "Girl, no wonder why you're getting distracted and failing your test. Mr. DiMartino is so hot that girls ogle at him and lost their focus."

"Oh my god, you are so right." Linka must've went through a flashback while you're yapping about Mr. DiMartino "I almost failed too because of him. A piece of advice, try not to look too much and you won't worry about failing fifth grade." You winked at Linka and patted her back.

You arranged your things and Linka escorted you downstairs. "It's all in your head, Link. There's no reason you shouldn't be getting top marks on your exam. Well, I guess you won't be needing me anymore." You gave her a hug.

You could hear the whining from the younger brothers about you leaving while the older ones frowned. "Thanks for having me guys!"

Linka tapped your arm just before you left the door. "Can we still hang out after this?" She looked at you with that puppy dog eyes. you only grinned aat her, "You really thought that's gonna work on me? I am a professionally at that, but since you tried, we can 'literally' hang out." You peeked behind Linka and see the guys smile a little.

I guess these dudes needed a playmate.

[prettymrswright]

not in the way I want to. (s,f)

pairing: shuri udaku x black!fem!reader

background: you and shuri met in college while the young prodigy was freshly on the rise in the media for her latest creations. the two of you were inseparable from the very first class you had together. many people would assume the two of you to be romantic, but you guys knew it wasn’t like that. you’ve had the same boyfriend since freshman year, and up until recent events, considered yourself straight (curious at most). shuri wasn’t too fond of him, and initially, it perplexed you. but what happens when trouble arises in ‘paradise’, and hidden feelings are revealed?

content warning: fluff, smut (18)+, sub switch!shuri, dom switch!reader, explicit language, dirty talk, pet!names, overstimulat!on, oral (both receiving), strap (reader receiving), scissor!ng, finger!ng (both receiving), rough!gestures, praise!kink, multiple orgasms, mentions of coming out, cheating

word count: 9.6k translations: nkosazana, princess. usana, baby. mhlobo wam, my dear. intombi entle, pretty girl.

authors note: y’all! hello everyone 🤭 i was gonna insert an intro but imma put it in my bio chile ik what y’all here for. i’m excited for this, this is my first fanfic on this app & y’all done woke up the writer in me again, these stories are so good!!! i’m usually a reader/consumer of the content but I love this community so I wanted to jump in there myself. i hope you guys love it, im gonna figure out the masterlist/requests/taglist thing if you guys want more. below tagged are my favoriteeee writers on here, baby y’all write down!!! oh and baby this is SMUT, okay we ain’t come here for play play! 🤣 no need for likes or reblogs, just wanna hear y’all feedback in the comments! (divider by @firefly-graphics)

@inmyheadimobsessed @pinkwright @generallysapphic @vixentheplanet @ventingfanfics @zayswriting @vampzx

"sssshit, baby wait--" you hissed through slightly parted lips as the princess's hands slid all over you, one finding its way to your entrance making teasingly slow circles. she brings you closer to her chest and lowers her pretty lips to your ear. "please don't deny me, nkosazana" she says with a low tone, sending chills down your spine. "i've been waiting so long." and that she has been. and you'd be a fool to deny her any longer. you fully surrender to her touch, and as soon as you relax, she sends her slim, polished, ringed finger up your pussy, pumping with a curve, sure to touch your center. "aghhh--" you let out a sharp wince and bite the corner of your bottom lip, preventing your scream. she then slips another finger & with each pump, she coos your praises sending you into overdrive. "shuri i'm so close please--" she moans at the sight of your reaction, pleased to have been successful in pleasing you. "let it go for me, usana, that's it" "fuck!" you cry out. "I love you so much" you throw your head back into her neck and flutter your eyelids into a slow shut, anticipating your release. 3 seconds away from arriving and-- ERRRR!! ERRRR!! ERRRR!! you launch your body up rapidly at the sound of your alarm, panting, attempting to catch your breath. "ugh," you groaned, as you turned over to silence the machine, almost breaking it with the force you applied. that was weird. this was the third time this week alone that you have had a wet dream about shuri. even weirder that you were annoyed at its end. the two of you have never been intimate; you weren't even attracted to women. sure you two were close, but it never exceeded its platonic state. awoken by your sudden movement and noise, your boyfriend, Jalen, turns over to you, eyes still shut. "mm, you good baby?" he asks, still half asleep, not totally interested anyway. "yea i'm cool, just startled that's all." halfway through your sentence, he was fast asleep again. you rolled your eyes before grabbing your phone to send a much anticipated text. "Happy Birthday to one of the realest, flyest, smartest, coolest, and kindest people to ever tread this floating rock. I love you! Oh-- and you a bad bitch too." you giggle at your dry humor. tonight was your friend Sevyn’s birthday. Sev had been there for you and Jalen all throughout college. she helped coach y'all through y'all issues both together and individually. she had been there emotionally, mentally, and even sometimes financially. she was an outstanding friend, and it was important that you made tonight special for her. you decided you would get up early and run some errands before the event tonight. as you rise up out of bed, you lightly stretch out your limbs, and walk to the bathroom to get ready for the day. after your normal face and dental hygiene routine, you prepare to take a warm shower. sliding down your underwear, the crotch of your lace peels off your body like a banana, slowly being attached to your skin by the slick caused by the series of imaginative events. it made your skin hot, leaving you slightly embarrassed at the fact that even affected you like that.

as you run your shower, you're certain Jalen was still sleep, and he needed to be up getting ready too.

"Jalen!--" You shout out of the bathroom. "hmmm?," he groans in annoyance, proving you right. "you know we got somewhere to be right?," you semi-yell and wait for his response. "I'm up, I'm up" he says, not convincingly at all. lately, he had been constantly putting off important things, or 'forgetting' them and you didn't know what the root of the issue was. It just seemed like he lacked interest lately. you just blamed it on his work, since it had been requiring his attendance overtime recently. spending all that time could drain somebody for sure. you were sure he meant no true harm. you take a hot, brisk shower, filling up the bathroom with vanilla, white birch, velvety rose and a drop of strawberry nectar-- the scents emerging from your you're the one shower gel from bath and body works.

your mind begins to wander as you lather up your body. you couldn’t figure out why you were so on edge. You and Jalen haven’t been too sexually active the past weeks, or active at all in that matter, but even when you were, it never riled you up like you had been in that dream. maybe you were just missing the constant physical attention you received at the beginning of the relationship. but didn’t that mean you would’ve had a dream about him?

today was so exciting. you had been so emerged in your own adulting, you barely had time to see your friends. you couldn't wait to link back up with sevyn, riri, and shuri. at the end of your shower, you dry off, lotion up, and get dressed in your fav, emerald green, 'running errands' sweatsuit. you put your thick, kinky hair in two space buns, slip on your AF1's and grab your things. walking past the bedroom you hear the deafening snores coming from your boyfriend. you decided to leave anyway and go run errands on your own. .. in a three and a half hour timespan, you were able to get your nails and toes done, pick up some new accessories for your outfit, and get your hair freshly silk pressed. the first time you have put heat in your hair in 3 years, and the health benefits were showing. you had it up in pin curls, and tucked away.

after your errands, you head to the venue and drop off the balloons, the cake, and the shoes you set out for Riri to match her outfit. Sev had no idea she was having a party. she knew you guys were taking her out tonight. you helped set up for a little before you headed out. as you go back home to get ready, you walk in and see Jalen on his game. "Baby, we gotta leave in a couple of hours. How have I managed to knock out my whole day and you ain't move but 3 feet?," you spat, visibly annoyed. "Oh uh, actually," he began, "I can't make Sev's tonight." you walk closer, scanning your boyfriend's facial expressions and body language, waiting for the punchline. "What do you mean you can't make Sev's? We been planning this for weeks, J."

he sighs in a somewhat sympathetic tone before standing to meet your gaze. "I know, babe, I'm sorry. Work called ag--" you cut him off, ready to spazz, but trying your hardest to remain a least a little level headed. "Work? you had all this time to put in for today, J. I mean, damn, they need you there, late, every day?" he pulls your body closer to him and lifts your chin to meet him eye level. "I'm sorry. I'll make up to you and Sev, you know I'm good for it. " he exclaims before slowly pecking your lips. you slightly shudder at the interaction, the most you have gotten in weeks. you roll your eyes before turning to walk away and he pops you on your ass. "Aye, don't give me that 'tude, aight." Jalen laughs. "Go finish getting sexy. And make sure I get my pictures!" he trails off to the bathroom.

you were disappointed, but decided you wouldn't let that get the best of you. you go back into your room and begin to set up your vanity dresser/mirror, in glam mode. you plug in your speaker and shuffle your caribbean vibes playlist, pre-gaming before the festivities. you took off your clothes, leaving you in your panty and bra set, and turned up the lights beaming from your vanity mirror. nothing could ruin this night, not even Jalen's lack of attendance. you decided to text the groupchat to check everyone's status. m'baku's big toe

you: ahem, hearye, hearye. i hope you hoes is getting ready! riri: girl i been getting ready, yk beauty takes time. or do you? idk you be lookin' a lil questionable 🥴 you: girl, fuck you! 🤣 shuri: I’m quicker than you both. 🙄 I’m dressed and out the door before you could attach your second false lash. sev: what you guys wearing?🙃 you: aht aht! it don't matter what we wearing, it's YOUR birthday. sev: i know, but i still don't know where you guys are taking me, i don't want to be over or under dressed😩 riri: girl you could come to the corner store in a disco ball. it's YOUR DAY. you: no, exactly shuri: whatever you guys wear, I'm sure it'll be glorious. now please hurry, i'm falling asleep!

you smile brightly at the texts laying out before you. one thing your friends could always do, was boost your mood. you breeze through your makeup, pausing mid-blend and mid-bake to buss a quick whine or to shout lyrics at the mirror with your gun finger emotes up.

you cocoa butter and oil up your body, giving it that shine and glow. you loved to look like you were glowing when you were dressed up. you slip on your black, mini, spaghetti strap body-con dress with a small slit in the thigh. you put on your sandal strap heels with the black base and clear straps. you place the single gold chain with a heart-shaped herb pendant on your neck, and the gold name plate bracelet to match both gifted from Shuri. It went perfectly with your outfit and the gold accents in the black hand purse you chose to wear for the night. you let your pin curls down and let them fall, slightly below your collarbone. you grab your favorite scent, instant crush by mancera, and give a spritz to all your intimate areas. glancing over yourself in the mirror, you have to say; you totally outdone yourself. it's been a while since you gave yourself this much attention to your appearance and it was well overdue. Jalen pops his head the room, dressed and seemingly in a rush. "alright babe, I'm out. have fun tonight and be safe." he turns out before you can even respond. "you didn't tell me how I looked!" you yell, trying to catch his ear before it was outside. "you look great as always! Love you, bye!" and with that the door shut. it's not that you needed to hear him say it to confirm how you looked, it was no question. but it's always nice to hear it from your partner. you shake it off and hype yourself up in the mirror before your phone begins to ring. it was Riri. you swipe to answer and were met with an enthusiastic exclamation. "We outsideeee!" Riri shouts, followed by cheers from the rest of the group. "Aowww!" you chuckle. "I'm on my way out now." you begin to walk out the door and towards the black Mercedes SVU truck, driven by Shuri. the windows roll down and it is an immediate uproar.

"Bombaaaa, what a gyal suh pretty, man eeee??!" Sev says flick-snapping her fingers, accentuating her Jamaican accent. "No, you look tf goodt! This how you step out for your friend, okay!" Riri says smiling ear to ear. Shuri's reaction is delayed but only because she's trying to take it all in. you were beautiful to Shuri, in every way, and she never hesitated to tell you that. Immediately she felt all the feelings she felt when she first met you rush to her heart , her throat and her stomach. If pupils could take shape, hers would be shaped in hearts. looking at her and waiting for her reaction, you catch her scanning your body and getting flustered. It was silent for a minute until she snaps back to the present moment. "Damn." she breathes out, causing everyone to fill up the rest of the silence with laughter. you hop in the backseat with Riri, admiring her orange turtleneck dress and her small straight back feed-ins. you guys take off, riding out about 20 minutes to your destination. every few minutes or so, you and Shuri would exchange a glance in the rear view mirror, slightly making you nervous. it wouldn't have been the first time, but this time was particularly making you feel a way. she had on a white hoodie and matching white joggers, a pair of 1's and a single plaited gold chain. she smelled of satin and eucalyptus, a strong but soothing scent. the fingers attached to her tattooed hands were freshly polished with a clear coat, reflecting a glare off of the traffic lights as her hands rested on the wheel. her undercut was freshly buzzed, emphasizing the powerful structure of her face. she was breathtaking. your mind began to wander, if you weren't mistaken, in the direction of the dream you had the previous night. before it could get too deep, your thought was interrupted.

"Time out," Sev turns to face you from the front passenger. "Where is J?" you sigh, initially forgetting all about him. "He had to work late, he told me to tell you he'd make it up to you." "Yo, that man is gonna work himself right into an early grave" Riri exclaimed. shuri scoffs at the sentence. you look up, interested in what she thought. "That's some bullshit. Ain't that much overtime in the world." she spat. you knew the two weren't the best of friends. but this comment was clearly shade. you got somewhat defensive. "What are you implying? I mean, he is the main provider of the house. It sound like his priorities are straight to me." you say, colder than you would've liked to. Shuri stared off into the distance of the road, giving a condescending hum before responding. "Mmm. Is that what it is? Okay. I mean one of your closest friends of 4 years' birthday sounds worth prioritizing to me, but what do I know, right?" this was the most you've seen Shuri get aggravated over him. Or anything for that matter. and in a weird way, her protectiveness made you feel something you wouldn't want to admit aloud. The silence after was bitter, but quickly broken after Sev jumps in. "Hey, look, it's fine" she lowly smiles and places her hand on mine. "I'm sure he didn't mean any harm by it. I'm with my girls tonight, let's just have fun." Shuri immediately shoots you an apologetic look. although she didn't regret what she said, she was always gentle with you & didn't want you to feel otherwise. you give her a slight nod and half smile, letting her know it was okay. I mean after all she was right. how could you wither away all your time somewhere where you didn't even need to, especially when you had the choice to be there for your friend? we park and step out the car, walking towards the venue. you could now see everybody in their entirety. the assignment was very clearly understood.

Sev looked beautiful. her locs she had been growing since the 3rd grade were up tightly in a neat, high bun. she had on a silver sequined body suit with a white mini skirt and white open toe heels to match. the windows were made with an ashed out material on the outside, only being able to see the lights reflecting. you, shuri, and riri shoot each other excited looks as Sev walks up first. "Damn, this restaurant is big!" Sev says, having no idea what she was getting ready to walk into. "She don't got a clue in the fucking world--" Riri says under her breath, imitating the Druski meme. simultaneously, you and Shuri tap her arm to shut her up, laughing all the while. she opens the door and everyone turns around. "Surprise!" Everyone yells and cheers, phone light cameras on, brightening up the space even more. all of Sevyn's closest friends and family were in attendance. you and the crew spent weeks formulating this. you knew Sev was homesick, and you wanted to make it as special as possible. the DJ plays Barbie Doll by Vershon as she walks out, giving her her dream entrance.

the different color fluorescent lights lit up the entire space, making the dance floor look electric. there were purple, gold, and silver confetti balloons bunched together and tied in every corner. there was even two 2 balloons tied above the special chair you guys decorated for her to sit as you sung happy birthday. "Oh my g--" Sev turns around to us, hands on her now heavily beating heart. her eyes immediately well with tears. "No you guys didn'tttt" you guys pull her in a group hug. "Yes we did!" Riri says, grabbing a napkin off the side table to pass to me. "Hey hey, don't cry sister, you gon' mess up your pretty makeup!" you pout, using the napkin Riri passed you to blot the corners of her eye. Sev was so overwhelmed with joy and gratitude. she loved you guys dearly, but she missed her family back home as well. she mouthed 'I love you' and blew a kiss before she turned to make her rounds around the room. the three of you made a couple rounds yourself and headed for the bar, ready to get your night started. .. about an hour goes by, and Riri rounds everybody up around Sev's chair to sing happy birthday. Shuri brings out her favorite-flavored, cookies and cream ice-cream cake and lays it on the table before her. Happy Earthstrong, Bad Gyal Sevyn! it reads, in purple letters, two gold 2's standing besides each other in the middle. she makes her wishes and blows out her candles, and from there, the real celebration begins.

as the night went on, the tunes were rolling in and at this point every one was tipsy and dancing. one of your favorite Afrobeats songs off of Wizkid's new album started playing. before you knew it, you felt yourself floating to the dance floor. you began to roll your hips, slow to the downbeat, eyes shut, feeling every word.

Mami You making me lose my eyes for other girls No do me something wey go make me stress Give me less of that, give me more of you Give me something I'll never want to lose, yeah

as you continuing dancing, you feel familiar hands slide around your waist and pull you into them. It was Shuri. she had been watching you dance and decided she no longer wanted you to do so alone. as she presses up against you, she begins to whine her hips, matching your rhythm. smiling to yourself, you slightly bend over, adding more dynamic to your movement. as a result, Shuri leans back and catches it. "You go girl," she says in the American accent she had been practicing so heavily lately, making the two of you laugh. you lift back up, keeping the whine more intimate, and she lowers herself to your ear. "You look stunning tonight, nkosazana." She says, sending a chill through you. she had called you that same thing in the dream. her nicknames for you sounded so much better in Xhosa than it did in English. "As do you, my love." you reply, still dancing. "I'm sorry for earlier," she begins, "I didn't mean to offend you. I just get protective when I feel my friends are being taken advantage of."

you slide your hands down to interlock over hers, which were placed around your waist, in an attempt to soothe her, wanting to forget the conversation happened. It works, as you feel her melt further into you. "Shuri it's okay, I promise. I appreciate you looking out, you know that. you were right anyway. he should've been here." you lift a hand to place a kiss on it. she uses that same hand and turns you around to face her, wrapping her arms around your waist. you smooth your arms around her neck and for a moment, it feels like it's only you two in the room. the two of you rock side to side, legs intertwined, in a kompa-like style and she brings herself to your ear and begins to lowly sing-hum the lyrics to the song. Who's gonna know? At the end of the day, I'm yours For the night only, baby, ooh Turn me on, I'm yours For the night only, baby, ooh Ooh-ooh Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh you felt like you were dreaming again. was she singing these lyrics to you? or was that just something you wanted to hear? you pull back and make eye-contact with the royal girl, and she's looking at you with a look you've seen before, but just not in real life. "I've been dying to hold you just like this." She blurts out, not breaking the eye contact and you can feel a lump begin to form in your throat. you smile at her, slightly nudging her off. "what are you talking about? we're always affectionate with each other. you hold me all the time" you laugh. it was true. hugs and kisses weren't foreign to you two, and neither was dancing. but somehow this felt intense. "not in the way I want to." she says, making a triangle with her eyes from your left-eye, to your lips, to your right-eye. "and what way is that?" you say directly, almost seductively. you felt it slightly inappropriate to build upon this tension, but once you got in that flirtatious mode, it was hard to come out of it. however, it only happened when you were attracted to said person. and you admit shuri was beautiful, but it never occurred to you that your attraction had been more than just a friend admiring a friend. she picks up on your tone, taking it as a green light to continue.

“Like this.”

she says into your neck as she turns you back around, leaving 3 soft kisses down your collar bone.

you lightly hum in satisfaction and reach your hand around Shuri’s head, bringing her closer and pressing yourself on her pelvis. you drag your hand down her undercut and across her jaw, holding her face to your neck, keeping it warm. she shudders under your touch and lowly moans at your reaction to hers.

I've been waiting for you to come my way (my way)

Put the sun in my rainy day (rainy day)

For your type, I go wait for days, my girl

Girl, your type of feel no dey give me pain

Girl, your picture fits my frame

There for you in a thousand ways, my girl

For the night, for the night

Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, ooh, yeah

“Come home with me, tonight Y/N.” she pleads. immediately you feel your knees buckle at the statement. you wanted to say yes so bad, but you couldn’t promise good behavior. And for that, it would be inappropriate for you to. besides you had to let Jalen in since he lost his key.

“I don’t know, Shuri. I gotta be home to open the door for J.” You say with slight disappointment in your tone of voice.

Before the Princess could respond, the two of you are interrupted by a loud mic feedback screech, followed by a very drunk and very happy announcement.

“Thank you everybody for coming out tonight!” Sevyn begins. “I’m so grateful for my beautiful family and my BOMB ASS FRIENDS, I’m having the time of my life, truly. One more year pan di fucka dem, how yuh mean?!!! “ The party erupts in cheers and mimicked mouth sounds of gunshots.

“And with that being said… IT’S SHOT O’CLOCK!!”

Beaming at her excitement, you match her energy. “SHOT O’CLOCK!!!”

Everybody takes their shot given out to them earlier throughout the night, raises it, and backs it. The music starts up again and people are back dancing. The four of you group up by the bar.

“So sis,” Riri starts, facing Sev. “Do you love it or do you love it?!”

“You guys are fucking unreal,” she says slurring. “I’m having so much fun. Thank you. All of you.” She hugs us each and begins to tear up again.

“You know we got your back like your spine do, Sev.” Shuri says, doing the handshake the four of you had created with her.

Riri’s phone buzzes and as she checks her notification, her face drops.

you all pick up on the shift in energy, but Shuri beats you guys to the chase.

“What’s wrong, Ri?” she asks attentively.

anticipating her answer, you look at her waiting for a response, and she immediately looks up at you.

“Y/N,…” She looked so sympathetic. As if something happened to you.

“What? what is it?” you began to get nervous.

Riri squeezes in between in all of us, sharing the view of the phone.

It’s a video sent to Riri’s instagram.

‘Ri, ain’t this your friends man?’

It was your boyfriend Jalen, wearing the same thing he had on when he left the house earlier that afternoon. In the bed, with another familiar face. It was his ex, Mya. the two were kissing. the video was captioned ‘never too far’ with the song “Can’t Leave Him Alone” by Ciara and 50cent attached to it.

a hot pit immediately formed in your stomach and you felt nauseous. Before you could think to cry, the tears were already flowing.

“Are you fucking serious!” Sevyn says, unaware of how loud she truly was, compliments of her inebriated nature.

“I’m sorry, sis. this is so fucked up.” Riri says rubbing your back.

work huh? he had been cheating the entire time. the lack of affection, the flopping on plans, forgetting important dates, no sex. the whole time you’ve been making excuses for him, considering his emotions and hardships, he had been occupying his time and energy somewhere else.

“That fucking jerk-off.” Shuri spat so harshly it almost made you jump. as you glanced over her face, you could see a dark, glossy glare in her eye and her jaw flexing from her biting down so hard. her Kimoyo beads turn a bright, glowy red, activating the mood generator she had added to it, just for shits and giggles in her free time. It meant anger. you knew that. she turns to you, noticing your state and cups your face and immediately wipes your tears with her thumbs.

“Listen to me,” she says, holding the attention she already previously grabbed. “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world, inside and out. This has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with him. He didn’t deserve you then, and he doesn’t deserve you now.”

you nod at everything she says. you know she’s right, but the tears just wouldn’t stop flowing. it was hurtful. it was downright disrespectful.

“Girl, we can pack up all your stuff and you come stay with me,” Riri says very sweetly but very serious.

“Fuck that,” you laugh in between sniffles, with your thoughts residing in audacity. “That’s my shit. He could get out!”

“I know that’s right!” Sevyn says smacking her hand down on the bar countertop.

you all laugh. humor was how you four coped with everything. more than anything you were appalled at these series of events, but you wouldn’t let it sack your night. tonight is about Sevyn. You got yourself together, had a few more shots, and the four of you continued the night, as intended.

..

It was 1 AM and the night was over. everyone kissed and hugged goodbye and made their way out. Shuri had Sevyn over her shoulder, placing her gently in the backseat of the SUV. she was too drunk to function, but in Sevyn’s words, “The night wasn’t crunk, If I wasn’t drunk”

I laughed aloud at the thought of her saying that. we all hop in the car and Shuri being the most sober, barely even tipsy, drives everyone home. we get to Sev’s house first.

“I’m gonna stay with Sev and nurse her back to health.” Riri half chuckles, gathering all of her and Sev’s belongings.

“I am health!” Sevyn slurs, mixing up health and healthy. We all laugh.

“Yeah ok superstar.” Shuri smiles.

“Goodnight y’all,” you say warmly. “Happy Birthday again, Sev.”

“Goodnight, take it easy, okay Y/N/N?” Riri says to you. You give her a reassuring nod.

“Yeah and fuck that nigg—!” was the last thing you heard before the back door shut. You laugh uncontrollably, knowing it was Sevyn, making it clear she had your back. you wait until they get inside and Shuri drives off. for a while, it's silent, until you break it. "Thank you, Shuri." you began, sheepishly, fidgeting your fingers. "For speaking life into me, and making sure I enjoyed my night." you could see her crack a small smile. "Of course, Y/N. What kind of friend would I be not to?" she reaches out and rests her hand on your thigh, giving it a light squeeze. the gesture makes you squirm. Pretending not to notice, Shuri asks, "Did you want to stop by anywhere before we reach your house? Something to eat? Or maybe an airbed?" "Shut up!," You burst into laughter, nudging her shoulder. She was very good with lightening moods, and she was also very funny. "Actually," you began, feeling that bold feeling you had felt earlier. "I was hoping you could take me home. to your home." you say, this time, with the full intent of sounding seductive. you reach over and rub the back of her neck, ever so gently. "Oh, uh-" you notice the 'adam's apple' portion of her neck move as she swallows, caught off guard by your sudden gesture. "Yea, definitely, that's fine with me." her kimoyo beads then started to glow a dark fuchsia. Your head tilted at the sight. That was new. You were there the millions of times that Shuri had ran tests on this feature, but you couldn't recall seeing this color before. "What does fuchsia mean, Princess?" You turn to her, genuinely interested. normally, she hated when you were formal with her. but as of these recent events, she was sort of turned on by it. she looks at you, and with a shy, stuttered tone she replies, "Arousal."

"Oh.." at a loss for words, you feel the pace of your heartbeat pick up, in both places of which a heartbeat may reside in a woman. she was aroused by you. a gentle touch alone from you made her arousal grow and the thought of that made your curiosity quickly turn into certainty. you wanted her bad, and was over pretending that you didn't.

You finally park, and the two of you head inside Shuri's apartment complex, which she had owned and had other people rent out. you went up to the top floor and trailed off into the Princess's palace. Shuri's home was so warm. Welcoming. the decor filled with blues, whites, and silvers, mimicking her lab back at her home Wakanda. The two of you enter her spacious room and immediately she begins to undress. she slips off her hoodie, exposing her toned and muscled arms elongating out of her wifebeater. her beauty was so effortless. And in that moment you could only think of those arms holding you. Or restraining you. either would suffice. "I'm gonna hop in the shower, Y/N," she begins. "You're welcome to shower here or in any of the guest bathrooms. It's up to you." "I'm gonna go in the guest room. Where are your towels?" you ask. she goes in her closet and comes out with a baby blue towel and two wash rags, one white and one blue, and hands them to you. you notice they're the same set from when you slept over last summer. "I never used them and purposely and kept it separated from all my others. I know blue's your favorite." She says, almost bashful. "How sweet, Shuri, thank you," you swoon at the gesture. that's another thing you adored about Shuri. She was so attentive. she knew everything about you & incorporated that information into thoughtful gestures like those. It seemed small but it made your day. "Anything for you, nkosazana." she says, sealing her statement with a wink. There that word went again. Princess. It was like she was taunting you. you smiled bleakly, and made your way to bathroom. the words lingered in your mind. did she mean anything?

as the hot water steams up the bathroom and falls against your skin, rinsing it of the dove body wash it was lathered with, your mind began to wander again. you began to have flash backs. when the two of you first met, your first 1 on 1 hang out, the shows she'd come see you perform in, her taking you to meet her family back in Wakanda. You felt safe in her presence. Comfortable, relaxed, inspired. Beautiful. Something you haven't felt in someone for a really long time. And it hit you. You were in love with Shuri Udaku. You weren't sure what to do with that information. It would mean two things, forcing you to face the truth; One, you were attracted to women. And two, your relationship with Jalen wasn't at all what you painted it out to be all these years. Oddly enough, you still felt bad for carrying on the way you knew you were about to. Not that bad though. after your shower, you walk back into Shuri'’s room, seeing her in her tank & a pair of boxers, at her desk, finishing up some last minute work drafts like the workaholic she was. you knock lightly and break her focus. "Hey," you say meekly, and before you know it, you're back into tears. "Hey, hey, hey, come here. " Shuri quickly pulls you into her lap. "Fuck him. I want you to fully process your emotions, but I don't wanna see two many tears shed over that waste. unless they are tears of joy, of course." she rubs the sides of your shoulders and kisses the back of them. but it wasn't even that. the truth was, you were overwhelmed. of course it hurt seeing what you saw earlier. but through all that turmoil, the only thing you could seem to think of was your feelings for Shuri. "Shuri-," you say, through a sob. "What is it my love, talk to me." Shuri's face grew with concern as she positioned you to now be face to face with her. "I think I'm in love with you," you manage to get out, eyes overflowing with tears. Shuri's reaction was mixed with shock, relief, and excitement. she had been in love with you since she meant you. It had been hell to pretend like she wasn't. she was equally allured by the content of your character as she was your pretty face and equally perfect figure. sure, she was a little jealous watching you be with someone else, but it wasn't jealousy alone. she knew Jalen wasn't shit. It just had to come up in the physical form. “Oh, Thank Bast.” Shuri says, exhaling heavily.

you playfully tap her shoulder.

“Shuri, I’m serious!” you say, almost pouting.

“I know, I know. All jokes aside, you don’t know how happy I am to hear those words from you.” she says lowly, staring into your eyes.

“Really?” you say, not knowing what to think of the situation just of yet.

“Really.” she confirms. “I’ve been in love with you since I met you, Y/F/N.”

hearing those words sent a rush all over your body. if you could be desired by anyone, especially in that way, it would be Shuri. a woman of her beauty and intelligence being enamored by you was way more than flattering. The more time passed, the more your arousal grew hungrily. "So come show me." your response sounding more lewd than intended.

you positioned your body to sit on one of her legs. you grab her face and bring it towards you, kissing her slow and passionately. you both moan into the kiss, breaking the tension that had been so heavily building over the night. a wave of bliss washes over you immediately. as you deepen the kiss, Shuri’s hands travel up your sides and lands on your ass. you slide your hands up the back of her neck and tug lightly at her head of curls. you adjust yourself, purposely separating the boundary of your wrapped towel and your lower region, and you begin to grind your clit against her thigh. you could feel the secretion sliding between your skin.

“Y/N..” Shuri leaves a light moan onto your lips, lifting up for air. "Yes?" you begin kissing down her neck, lightly sucking. "I-is this okay?" Shuri could barely get out. "We don't have to"

you stood up, still hovering over her and peeled off your towel, dropping it to the floor. you take her finger swipe it across your entrance, allowing her to feel the mess she was beginning to create. you sucked yourself off of her, keeping your gaze onto her. "Does that answer your question, Princess?" you say, in an almost sinister tone. "Fuck.." Shuri trailed off, pleasantly surprised at your behavior. without any further question, she lifts you up with one arm and walks you over to the bed, laying you down. you wanted her so bad. this would be your first time with a woman, and although you were nervous, you were ready. you could easily figure out what she liked. you seen it in your dreams a million times. Shuri began kissing you all over your face, traveling down to your neck, eventually stopping at your chest. she hovers over your right nipple, the breeze from her breath causing you to jolt. she slides her hand up your torso and cups your other breast, lightly tugging on the nipple. she slightly drops her jaw, allowing her dribble to fall and coat your puffed nipple. she cleans it up before it droops below the surface. simultaneously, she drives her knee in between your legs, just close enough for the tip of her knee and your clit to kiss. you gasp at the quick exchange, your body squirming under her touch, semi-begging for more. "Stop teasing me, Shuri, please," you breath out. "Mm, mm." she shakes her head, detaching her lips from around your areola. "I've been waiting a long time for you. I'm taking my time. " she gives some attention your other nipple before traveling down your torso. she makes sure not to leave any skin on your body unloved. she wanted the way she truly felt to translate through her actions. she tugged you by the inside of your knees, pulling you closer to the end up of the bed, and kneeled down in front of your heat. "Shuriiii," you whined out, aching for her to do something. "What is it, usana?" she says, wanting you to be vocal. she was so deeply grateful to have heard you say the things she had only dreamt. "What do you need from me?" you had absolutely no problem being vocal. all your guilt, sadness, and confusion was out the window. all you wanted now was to make her feel how she made you in your dreams. sitting up on your forearms, you lock eyes with her, "put your mouth on her, please." "Yes, my love." she breaks eye contact with you and makes eye contact with your folds. "Hey, pretty girl," she cooes over your entrance. the seductive introduction made you melt like putty. She slides her two fingers up your slit, separating your folds, and exposing your now pulsating clit. In one quick motion, she wraps her pretty, royal lips around it and gives it a french kiss. "Yesss, fuck!--" you cry out. you been yearning for this moment, and seeing it come into fruition was driving you insane. still eating, shuri hums inside you, sending the vibrations through you. she slowly slides her fingers inside and begins pumping. you could feel the love at the end of her tongue, and you feel your eyes begin to well up. you throw your head back in intense pleasure. she taps the side of your hip twice, coming up to speak. "aht, aht. keep those pretty eyes on me, gorgeous" demanding your attention, still pumping. soon as your tear-filled eyes, meet hers, she adds another finger and begins to twist. "Ahh!" you pierce out a glass crushing scream, grabbing the sheet so hard you almost pop it off its corner. "I can't--" she silences your protest, shushing loudly, "yes you can baby, hold it for me, yeah?" wanting to be good for her, you just gave a weak nod. she lowers her lips back to your super sensitive bud, now edging it with the flat of her tongue. the combination of the two movements immediately tossed your stomach into knots, signaling a releasing creeping. "Shuri, I'm going to fucking cum--" you say through exhausted breath and gritted teeth. her expectations of you holding anything would soon be met with disappointment.

"I know baby, just a little while longer," she attempts to soothe you, failing terribly. she sucks one more time, slightly tugging at it, making the popping noise at the release. she takes her thumb and uses it as replacement for where her mouth was and uses her free hand to push your knees to your chest.

your legs involuntarily began to tremble and you knew you could hold it no longer.

"Baby," you gasp out, in a warning tone.

"come on, let it out." she gives you the green light and on command, you immediately pour out onto Shuri's fingers.

"Such a good fucking girl." she praises, and you ride out your O off of her fingers. she takes them out and lowers herself to your lips, giving you her fingers for the two of you to share. "You taste so good." she exclaims, moaning to herself.

you're a whimpering, moaning mess. you've never felt such an intense feeling in all the years your were in a relationship with that man. it awakens something in you, and you're ready to do whatever to make Shuri happy.

sitting up with her towering you, you and the Princess collaborate in lifting her shirt over her head. you take time admiring her slim but toned body and her small, perky and stiff breasts.

"You are so beautiful, Shuri." You say looking up to her, so very sincerely. she was really ethereal in every way. she had an androgynous vibe to her, being equally as pretty as she was handsome.

" I am a reflection of you, mhlobo wam." she replies before lifting your chin, placing a peck onto your lips. she always knew what to say.

you slide your fingers around the brim of her shorts before pulling them down, being greeted with her black boxers, being soaked at the front.

"Oh shit," you chuckle. "It's like that?" you look up at the now flustered girl. It was funny, but cute. as quick as she could be in control was as quick as she could become coy.

"It's not my fault," she says in a pouty tone. "You're just so--"

In the midst of her talking, you slip her out her boxers, lift her leg, and rest her foot on the tall bed post that stood beside you, exposing her pretty and dripping two-toned cunt. your eyebrows raised, surprised at her flexibility.

you let out a secluded breath, loving what you saw in front of you. "So..?" you ask, tauntingly, sliding your thumb up and down her middle.

“—Sexy.” her breath stifles, and her chest began to heave up and down.

“you think i’m sexy?” you taunt even further, now dipping your thumb in every one and again, enjoying watching her squirm.

“Y-yes,” her hips disobey her attempt to keep cool and begin bucking up.

“How sweet. Let me say, thank you.” you palm her plump bottom with both hands and pull your lips closer to her sweet spot. you lick a straight path from the bottom of her opening up and to the top and make a quick circle around her clit, sealing it with a kiss.

“Ohhh my f— Y/N..” Shuri felt as if she began to float. she had the prettiest girl at her mercy, and now she had her at her own. to see her underneath her, wanting her in the same way— the thought alone was enough for her cum.

“Tell me how you like it, Princess. Teach me.” you plead, wanting nothing more than to make her feel how she just made you. your eagerness to learn her body made her all the more excited to continue.

like a magnet, you attached your lips onto her second pair, and she guides you right where she wants you.

“Right there. S-slow, please.” she almost begs.

as asked, you rolled your tongue around her bud slowly. painfully slow. you were pleased with her taste & moaned in confirmation.

“Ughh,” her breathing becoming more unsteady, “Fuck, that feels so good, nkosazana.” proud and driven by the praise you were just given, you speed up your pace, just a little. this time, making it sloppy and shaking your head in it. you raise a finger and trace it along her entrance, waiting for the confirmation that it was okay. she nods.

you strike a finger up briskly, tongue still attacking her clit.

“Yes!” she cries out, holding a tighter grip on the sides of your head. you give a few more pumps before slipping another finger, eager to send her over. pushing deeper and deeper, you notice her juices begin to trickle down your fingers.

“are you close, my love?”you chase her expressions for an answer.

“I’m so close, please don’t stop,” she whimpers out as you keep pumping. her eyes shut tight and her leg began to shake. she was a whimpering little thing. it was different from her normal, calm, masculine presenting energy. and you loved it.

you increase the pressure of your sucking and soon after you feel a rush of creamy substance floating down your tongue like a river. she sobs out as she comes down from her first O.

“Mmm.” you vocalize your satisfaction with her flavor. “thank you, princess.” you feel yourself oozing at the sight of her squirm.

“who— taught.. you.. that,” She says in between each gasp for air. you laugh at her possessive energy but flattered that your succeeded at your first attempt to please her.

gaining some of your leg strength back, you fall back on the bad, pulling Shuri on top of you and rolling over so that you were on top. you thought about this so many times and was ready to try it.

you spread her legs and lower your wet and pulsating clit to meet hers. feeling the warm & gushy sensation between you to caused you both to gasp at the same time.

“You so fucking nasty, my God.” Shuri groans aggressively, staring into your soul.

“For you. You damn right.” you bite back. you swooned at thought of being her fantasy. you were laying it all out for her, making her long term attraction worth it.

you held yourself up slightly, rocking back and forth, tribbing the nucleus of her treasure.

“That pussy feels so good on mine, fuck,” you moan, wanting to throw your head back but also not wanting to miss any reactions, for they were the navigator of your success rate.

“Shit!” her pretty brown eyes beginning to gloss over with water. she couldn’t believe how submissive she was acting, but she even more so couldn’t believe how filthy you were, especially involving her. you also couldn’t believe it either. to have never been with a woman, being with Shuri in this way felt so natural.

“Y/N please!” she cried out, grabbing your neck, pulling you forehead to forehead, the heart shaped herb necklace she gifted you now dangling in her face.

thrusting harder, you reach your hand up and massage her left breast, grazing her nipples with the edges of your nails.

the two of your bodies moved in the same patterns like a missing puzzle piece. you grabbed her by her face and kissed her passionately. uncontrollably moaning your mouth, she begins to cry, this time, letting her emotions take over her.

“I’m cumming, please, I can’t take anymore,” she reaches out to push your torso further away, but her hands are quickly pinned down over her head.

“I’m almost there baby, hold on.” You coo sweetly, noticing her begin to get overstimulated. You continue to thrust, picking up the pace to speed up your orgasm, talking Shuri through.

Shuri’s eyes began to roll back and her mouth was agape for so long from her silent cries, she started to drool.

“Shit,” you feel yourself getting ready to release. The sight of her under your control sped up the process by a whole lot. “I’m cumming, I’m cumming—fuck!” you began to whimper. By the time your juices flow out, Shuri let out a piercing screech, squirting all over you.

Shuri was now sobbing and shaking, violently. You wipe her tears and kiss all over her face, now laying beside her.

“I know baby, I know. Let it out,” you continue to kiss her and rub her to calm her down.

“I—I” she tries to vocalize something, but still hasn’t come down yet.

“Take your time, no need to rush.” you reassure her, still slightly out of breath yourself. you help her regulate her breathing and she finally makes out her sentence.

“I need to fuck you. Now.” she growled.

if she hadn’t before, the desire now was through the roof. this was the most aggressive you’d ever seen her-- also the most vulgar-- and after the damage you had just done to her, you were excited, but nervous to see how she would handle you.

her wobbly legs refraining her from being able to move as fast as she could, she hops up and limps over to her dresser draw, opening the top draw and taking out a pretty black, blue and silver strap. the design on it mimicking what would be the inside of a gadget. by it’s shiny and potent structure, you knew it was made of vibranium.

she slips the harness around her hips, tightening both ends to secure it, arms flexing in the process. effortlessly turning you on with every move.

“Come here, duchess.” she motions you over with two fingers. you immediately oblige, following her lead like a lost puppy.

she leads you over to the large mirror that resided on the wall on the other side of the bed. she swipes the slick from the middle of your entrance and uses it to lube up the tool.

“The safe word, is mango.” She began, looking at you through the mirror. “If it’s too much or it hurts, say that word, and i’ll stop immediately. Got it?”

you bite your lip nervously, and nod, doubting that you would ever be using it.

“Words, princess.” She says sternly, lifting up your chin.

“Y-yes.” you breathily respond. and just like that, you were back under her spell, ready to be used anyway she desired.

“There’s my girl.” She smirks before positioning herself behind you. something about her referring to you as her girl made your stomach erupt with butterflies.

you bent over and braced yourself on the mirror and suddenly you felt a poke at your entrance.

“You ready?” she asks. you nod way too eagerly. “I’m gonna count to 3… 1–“

before she ever got to two she slides her length up your canal and you gasp super sharply.

“Shuri!” you half moan, half growl, feeling good but snapping at her for cutting your time to prepare.

“Shh, you got it, come on,” she coaches. Shuri stroked her length in and out of you, slow and long, building up your anticipation.

“Shit!,” you spat, bitting down on your lip, adjusting to her length.

shuri had been developing this piece for a long time. she also was secretly restricting it for you, not knowing if you’d ever actually be together. but the very few times she did have other partners, she’d only use the regular silicone strap for them. only a woman of a certain poise and power was worthy of the contraption, and in this case, that woman was you. her intombi entle.

she had designed it to feel as close to skin as possible. she wanted you to feel the intimacy just as she did, being that she also designed it to allow her to feel you.

as she pumped in and out of you, your walls tightly clenched around her, almost fighting to keep her inside.

“Ugh,” Shuri grunted aloud. “Pussy so fucking tight.”

“Oh God,” you slur out. as your body was working overtime to stay cool, you feel yourself beginning to sweat profusely. your freshly done silk press now glued to your shoulders. “You feel so fucking good”

The Princess swiftly grabs your arms and folds them, locking them behind you. She holds up your perfect frame, forcing you to look at you both in the mirror.

“Look how pretty you look taking this dick, hmm?” she says lowly in your ear while speeding up her pace.

“Oh, fuck,” not having any control over what happens now, you begin to panic, the knot you now knew to be so familiar beginning to arise in your stomach.

“Say it. I wanna hear you,” she demands.

“Shuri, please,” you beg her to go easy on you, but she wasn’t having it. She gives an electrifying smack to your ass.

“Say. It.” She says through grit teeth, now with one hand full of your hair, slamming into you harder, directly on your g spot.

“I— aghhh!” you fight to get the words out. “I l-look s-so pretty taking th— this dick!”

she smiles sinisterly and quickly agrees. “Mm, yes you do.”

a question you usually scoff at arises, however, it’s a pleasure to hear the next sentence come from Shuri’s lips.

“Who’s pussy is this? Hm?” she knew exactly how to get you riled up. She so badly yearned to hear you surrender to her after watching you with someone else all this time. especially someone who didn’t deserve you.

“It’s yours, Shuri,” your words began to spill over like a fountain in sonic moans. “It’s yours, I’m yours, I belong to you!”

it was music to Shuri’s ears. you were hers. you said it, and that’s all the confirmation she needed.

“and don’t you ever fucking forget,” she spat.

hearing the royal speak so filthy and so rough was so shocking yet so enticing. her every word carried you closer and closer to your whit’s end.

still stroking, she yanks your head back and passionately kisses you, swallowing all your moans.

stomach tight, shuri’s strokes began to get sloppy, feeling your constant contract and release. she was quickly approaching her arrival.

“Shhhhuri, I’m about to—“ you began, almost snatching the words out her mouth.

“Cum. Cum with me, my pretty girl.” she gives 4 more sloppy pumps before she slides out, cumming all over herself; but not before you left a creamy, white ring all around her base. as soon as she comes out completely, you squirt out all over her lower region; something you had never done before. you squeal, in shock and excitement.

“You did such a good job, usana” Shuri pecks your lips and taps your slightly bruised ass. you beam at the praise she gives. she picks you up and carries you to the bed, gently laying you down before slipped off her harness and climbing in with you.

draping the covers over your naked bodies, you cuddle into Shuri, placing your head on her chest and she pulls you in closer. you throw your leg over her lower torso to get close as possible. you both listen to each other’s breath slowly come down to its original state. Shuri picks up and holds your hand that was previously laying on her chest, and kisses it. At peace and well satisfied, you feel yourself begin to drift off to sleep.

“not you falling asleep already,” Shuri laughs, mockingly.

usually you’d protest, but you let her rock on this one.

“I love you so much.” you mummur, gazing up at Shuri.

“I love you so much more. Thank you for trusting me with your body.” She says sincerely.

“I trust you with my life.” you say authentically as ever, overcome with feelings of euphoria.

“I trust you with mine.” she replies, almost instantly.

shuri lifts her hand, inviting you to do the handshake your friend group had made. the two added a special ending that nobody new about. the two of you share a blissful laugh at the comedic ending of it.

“Alright, my love, get some sleep.” Shuri rubs small circles on your back with one hand and rubs the leg thrown over her with the other.

“You got a boyfriend to break up with tomorrow.”

[nyoomfruits]

hi ellie, you're one of my favourite authors of ever, even beyond the realm of fanfiction!! you are magic with words and story telling and i'm forever grateful that you write for a fandom that i read! could i please request for the settings prompt game landoscar and #13? thanks in advance!!!

13. a great ballroom during aan elegant party

Lando’s been listening to Alex and George squable about the correct pronounciation of the word ‘canapé’ for a good ten minutes when he finally says, “I think this is the year.”

George stops mid horrible French pronounciation. “The year of what.”

“The year of your mum,” Alex supplies unhelpfully.

”The year of this,” Lando says, gesturing around the ballroom they’re standing in. From the corner they’re tucked away in they can see the crowded dancefloor, the tittering girls and mama’s on the edges, the waiters with trays full of the aforementioned canapés and glasses of champagne. “The year I find my match.”

The music of the violen quartet in the corner is loud, and yet it is like you can hear a pin drop.

“A what,” Alex says, at the same time George makes a breathless little sound.

“I have been waiting for this moment all my life,” George says, sounding truly sincere, pulling a scroll out of his waistcoat. It unrolls and hits the floor with a quiet thud. “I have a list of all the eligible singles. Names, ages, occupations, parents occupations, side of the bed they prefer to sleep on,” George continues, scanning through his list.

“You scare me sometimes,” Alex says, rather deadpan.

“Ah!” George says, completely ignoring him. “Here. Max Emillian Verstappen.”

“I know Max,” Lando pipes up.

George ignors him, too. “Granted, he has that weird thing with Charles going, but if that doesn’t work out there’s a lot of money up for grabs here. Just imagine-“

Lando tunes him out, glances around the ballroom. He knew telling his friends would be a mistake. But he’s so goddamn tired of being alone, seeing everyone around him find their perfect match. He wants that too, wants someone to hold at night when it gets cold outside, someone who gets him, who makes him laugh, who he can just be himself around. High society is a burden at times. He just wants someone who understands that, who lifts that burden, if only just a little.

His eyes slide over the ballroom, over the girls in beautiful, colorful gowns, the guys in smart, gorgeous suits. And then they land on someone in the corner. He’s never seen the guy before, dressed in a rather simple plain suit with a swoosh of brown hair that looks artfully messy, a face that unremarkable yet Lando cannot stop looking.

He’s talking to a group of mamas, clearly making them laugh as they titter and fan their fans. One of them pushes her daughter forward, and he takes her hand, gracefully leads her to the dancefloor, where he glides along in a way that shows he knows what he’s doing. Yet Lando’s never seen him before.

So he turns to George. “Who’s that?” He asks, interupting George’s spiel about Carlos Sainz’s intricate hair routine.

George frowns. “That’s Oscar Piastri, don’t you remember him? He played cricket, too. Started late but was a real prodigy so by the time he got to our level he moved to Australia to try for real. Didn’t realize he was back.” George’s frown deepens. “I don’t have information on him yet, but give me a few days. Alex, wasn’t he friends with that guy you were sleeping with last summer? Logan something?”

“Sargeant?” Alex asks, shrugs. “Sure, I’ll ask.”

“Good,” George says. “We need a game plan. Maybe we can rendez vous back at my place in- oh my god Lando where are you going.”

Lando, having had enough of Alex and George’s chit chat, has decided it is time to get into action, and is now beeling for Oscar, who has since finished his dance, and is now talking to Frederik Vesti, looking relaxed and calm and laid back. ”Fred,” Lando says, clapping Frederik on the back jovially. “Jack’s looking for you, mate.”

“Is he?” Frederik asks, eyes bright, craning his neck around. “Oh, that’s. I’ll go find him.”

Frederik steps away then, leaving Lando in full view of Oscar Piastri, who’s just taking a sip of his drink and promptly lets it dribble all over his shirt when he spots Lando.

“Shit,” he says, clumsily dabbing at his shirt with a handkerchief. “Lando, I’m so sorry. I mean, uh. Mr. Norris. Lando Norris.” He says it a little in awe, a little breathless, and there’s a flush to his cheeks that wasn’t there before, not even when he as dancing.

Lando cocks his head. “Have we met?” He asks. Up close, Oscar is even cuter, with soft round cheeks and warm brown eyes. Lando’s never felt this intrigued about a person before.

“Oh,” Oscar says, awkardly scratching the back of his head. “Not, uh, really? I used to watch you play cricket, when we were younger.” When Lando doesn’t say anything, just raises an eyebrow, Oscar’s flush impossiblu darkens. “Not in a creepy way! Just uh. You were a few levels above me and like. Really good.”

Lando preens. He’s stopped playing cricket ages ago, but it’s nice to hear someone looked up to him like that. “Well, not creepy Piastri,” he says, enjoying the way Oscar stutters a little at that. “How about a dance then? For old times sake.”

Oscar’s eyes widen but he takes the outstretched hand, lets himself be led to the floor. The song is a slow one, and Lando relishes in the opportunity to put his hand on Oscar’s shoulder, let his other slide into Oscar’s, marvels at the way Oscar is slightly bigger yet his hands are so much smaller.

Oscar’s eyes don’t leave his for a second as they twirl around the ballroom, transfixed in a way Lando can’t explain, like he’s merely a moon circling Lando’s earth. It’s exilirating, being looked at like that, like he matters. Lando could get used to that, maybe. Would love to get used to that.

Lando licks his lips and Oscar’s steps falter, unnoticable unless you’re the one dancing with him, and Lando can’t help the grin that spreads across his face.

When the dance ends he bows at Oscar, never breaking eye contact, before making his way over back to George and Alex, feeling the prickle of Oscar’s eyes following him across the ballroom.

“That one,” he says, when he reaches his friends. “I want that one.”

[writerblue275]

hi i love ur work so much and ive been racking up the courage to try and make a request so here we go. uhm. can you do maybe an irritated/upset!reader and how the heartsteel boys would comfort them? or vice versa with them being upset and the best way to comfort them/reader trying to comfort them.. idk loll. (ily again btw ur works giv me life)

Hello sweet Anon!! I’m so happy you enjoy my work! Thank you for the lovely words, they mean a lot to me. And thank you for requesting!! I totally get it. I’m a very anxious person so I definitely have to work up the courage to request or comment on stuff. But I promise I don’t bite (like 99.999999% of the time)!💙

How Heartsteel would comfort an upset/frustrated reader

Inspiration: So I know I said I’d work on requests generally in the order they’re sent, but I was literally in the process of doing basically this as a non-requested WiP. Because lately life has been TRYING. ME. 🙃 (I will neither confirm nor deny having multiple stress cries in my car the past week.) So even though this is my newest request, since I was already working on something like this, I might as well combine the two. I think I’ll just keep this to them comforting the reader, but I like the idea of doing a separate one where reader comforts the Heartsteel members. Also listen, I absolutely love me a good comfort moment. I melt.

Genre: Headcanon (with some fake texts??? Trying something a little new here.)

Type: A bit angsty just because you’re upset, but fluff because comfort.

Gender: Gender Neutral Reader!

TW: General hurt/comfort. Mentions of a no good very bad day/week for reader. Swearing.

Aphelios

I think Aphelios would actually do comfort pretty damn well. He’s also used to being stressed and tired and upset about things (because let’s be real he works so hard. Too hard sometimes) so he’d be great to turn to.

One thing I think Phel would do, if you do visit him in his studio, is play music to distract your mind a bit from whatever has you so upset. Now this might be through a file he’s already recorded on his computer and sent to Yone to be mixed. However, he also just has a shit ton of different instruments in his work space.

So pick one for him to play and he’s happy to do so. You get like a mini concert from an instrumental prodigy! Or even better, pick one that you want to try! He’s happy to teach you some basics on how to play it.

And it doesn’t matter how badly you might sound as you attempt to play an instrument for the first time, Phel’s nodding and clapping as if you just finished giving an incredible performance. Every time. Because he supports you. (Though he will use some very very light teasing occasionally, but he’s joking.)

And he’d definitely order some food in and cuddle or nap with you on his studio couch (which is so mind-blowingly comfortable for some reason). And once you are eating and settled together and in a better mood, then he’d ask if you want to talk about things.

And you don’t have to. He’s happy to continue to keep your mind on happier things. Phel also has a couple gaming consoles hooked up to a tv that you can play with him/watch him play. But he’s also happy to just let you talk and get everything off your chest. (He’s just so supportive oh my god.)

Ezreal

(I enjoyed getting to break out a little millennial/Gen-Z slang here lmao.)

If Ezreal has one goal in your relationship, it’s to try and make you smile as much as possible. He hates seeing you upset or frustrated about something. And he will do anything to help get the smile he adores back on your face.

So when you do come to him upset about something, his internal alarm is just going bonkers. DEFCON 1 level shit. 🚨🚨🚨

If you want comfort? Ezreal’s going to give it to you. He already loves cuddling you so you can have all the therapeutic cuddles your heart desires with him (god bless his love language of physical touch). And he’s more than happy to play with your hair or do whatever actions help you relax the most.

You wouldn’t even have to ask him, he’d already have your favorite comfort food ordered and he’d go pick it up (or have it delivered). He fully know your order by heart.

Builds the BEST pillow forts to unwind in. Truly an expert. Ezreal even decorates it a little bit with some of your favorite comfort things. And as his texts said, pick anything you want to watch. Whether that is a movie, show, gaming streamer, him gaming, it DOES. NOT. MATTER. It’s all up to you. Also if you want him to sing to you he absolutely will, no question. (Can you imagine? HEAVEN!)

He’d let you take the lead on whether or not you want to tell him what has you so upset. He knows stewing in your emotions isn’t always productive, but sometimes talking about things when they’re so fresh in your mind can make the feelings more intense. And while he’s not the go-to guy for advice, he’s an excellent listener. As long as he can play with your hands or hair or something, he’s fully tuned in, letting you get everything off your chest.

He’s such a great example of golden retriever boyfriend, and if golden retrievers are good at anything, it’s comfort and making people happy. So don’t you worry, Ez will have you smiling again in no time.

Kayn

So when it comes to Kayn, comfort is very interesting to think about. Definitely feel like he approaches comfort differently from, say, Ezreal, but he has his own special ways of supporting you and helping you reach a better mindset.

If he can tell you’re frustrated or angry or the type of upset that requires a little bit of rage release, he’s fully on board to go to a rage room with you so you can get out everything you’re feeling in a controlled and safe environment.

And you absolutely know Kayn’s cheering you on the entire time. “FUCK yeah baby! Show that wine bottle who’s boss!” Or “That’s it, Sexy. Work has been driving you nuts right? Take it out on this shitty copier. Fuck it up!” Or *softball pitches a vase to you while you’re standing at-bat*

He’s fully supportive. And if expressing your feelings requires more of an artistic approach, that works for him too. He has a small room that has been turned into an art studio where he goes to practice his graffiti (in a way that’s legal) and he would gladly let you use it. Or he’ll let you play with his guitars if you want. (You’re one of the VERY FEW who can. You, Phel, and Yone.)

And if you just need to talk out your feelings, Kayn’s going to be there to listen, only interjecting if he has questions or if he’s commenting something supportive. “Of course you’re upset, baby. That’s bullshit and would piss me off too!”

And his love language (giving) is physical touch. So if you just want him to hold you while you cry, he can do that. And physical touch doesn’t just mean holding you. Like his hands would just be gently wandering. Nothing suggestive necessarily, but just reassuring. Like rubbing your back or your arms. Playing with your hair. Stuff like that.

It absolutely breaks Kayn’s heart to see you cry. He will do anything to keep you from crying/make you feel better when you are upset. (Again 🤫🤫🤫🤫 don’t tell anyone but he’s a huge softie for you!)

K’Sante

As mentioned in previous headcanons K’Sante gives off the vibes of someone who is just amazing to talk to. And that absolutely applies when it comes to helping you feel better when you’re upset.

Just an absolutely incredible listener. Vent as much as you want to him. He’ll listen to every single word you say. And when I say listen, I mean fully tuned in. You have his undivided attention. (How could he give his partner any less??? He couldn’t, is the answer.)

And if you ask K’Sante for advice? He’s offering you sincere and thought out advice. He truly wants to help you, always.

Now beyond talking, he can also make a mean meal in the kitchen (even if Sett is the official best cook). So you’re going to enjoy some really excellent food. Either your favorite or one of his favorite comfort foods. And that’s never a bad thing.

You’re also receiving some prime cuddles. Have you seen K’Sante??? He loves holding you. And leaning against that broad chest while his arms wrap around you seems like a great way to feel better.

Oh and even better? He will absolutely sing for you if you ask. (Which bestie…how could you not??) His voice is so lovely too. And he will sing any song you want him to. (Though he definitely already knows your favorites that he can pull out if you don’t feel like picking anything/making decisions.)

K’Sante is just someone who would be amazing at comforting you. He’ll go the extra mile in helping you feel better and making sure you know he’s always got your back.

Sett

Sett would be phenomenal at comforting you when you’re upset. He loves to see you smile and will do anything to help bring a smile back to your beautiful face. (Remember his love language is acts of service).

He’d make your favorite comfort food. And hell even that would go a long way in helping you. He cooks with so much love.

And the CUDDLES. Oh my god cuddles with Sett would be 😩👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻. He’s so soft with the people he loves. And he loves YOU.

He’d pull you into his lap, wrap those lovely arms around you, and let you get comfy. And only when he can hear your breathing level out and feel you relax in his arms would he ask about what has you so upset.

And as you’re talking Sett would give you the gentlest little forehead/to-of-the-head kisses and rub your back and stuff. And he’d be such an excellent listener. He’d let you unburden yourself first before talking. He’d also ask if you just want comfort or if you want his advice. He realizes sometimes we all just need someone to listen while we vent and we don’t necessarily need people to give advice. And he respects what you want.

And if you’re ever angry/frustrated-upset, he’d offer to grab his boxing training pads and let you safely hit out your anger. He knows how cathartic that can be. And if you take him up on that, he’s cheering you on the whole way. (Such a hype man.)

And after dinner, he’d give you a couple options. Bath? Massage? More cuddles? Whatever you want, you get. Sett will take care of everything.

Yone

(A/N: The amount of time I spent trying to come up with a better contact name for him…but he’s just so 🥰.)

Yone would be EXCELLENT to turn to when you’re upset. There’s no one who understands work stress more than him (if that’s the problem), and he has all the tools to help you feel better, whatever the issue is.

One of the things Yone is best at is calming you down. Something about his vibe is just very grounding, which is super important when your emotions are running high.

He is absolutely someone who meditates regularly/uses incense and such. (He would have killed his band members by now if he didn’t.) So when you either come to him or call him and he can tell you’re upset/frustrated, I think he’d first do some breathing exercises with you to help settle you down and help you get your emotions back to a more manageable place.

If you’re with him in person, he’d light some of your favorite incense that he always has stocked for you and pull you down to sit in his lap so he can hold you. Because he knows you feel better when he does.

Once Yone can tell you’re in a much calmer state of mind, only then would he ask if you want to talk about things. And he’s truly leaving that up to you.

And once you’ve cuddled for a little bit, and finished talking if you do end up telling him, then he’ll definitely just keep you on his lap and work with you there. He knows you love watching him work on music. He’ll pass you your own set of headphones that he has plugged into a splitter, so you can hear what he’s doing. He’ll even ask for your input. (Nothing too technical unless you have a musical background, but more so “Which of these sounds better, my love?” Or “What do you think, baby? Instrumentals too busy?”) He also gives you the occasional forehead kiss while he works, and those are the BEST.

Yone just gives off such a peaceful vibe (when he’s not stressed by his band members), and that sort of energy is perfect to be around when you’re upset and you need comfort.

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed. This really helped me feel better I must say. Thank you Anon for requesting this too, and I hope I did your request justice! 💙

[darkurgetrash]

Gods' Damned Gale Dekarios!

Hi all! After reading this amazing post by @gale-dekarios, I couldn't help but write this silly, goofy one-shot. Please enjoy!|[Read on AO3]

Rating: General Audiences Wordcount: 4,576 Summary:

Opulentus is Waterdeep's most renowned wizard—a charming, handsome prodigy whose charisma commands respect. But when his long-time nemesis, Gale of Waterdeep, returns after years of disgrace, everything Opulentus holds dear is threatened. Gale, once stripped of his magic for defying Mystra, has somehow become the hero of Baldur's Gate, returning with a beautiful fiancée, newfound fame, and an air of humility that leaves Opulentus seething. Now, there is only one question on Opulentus' highly intellectual mind... What is Gods' Damned 'Gale Dekarios' up to?!

Requested Tags: @onlyfangz @kwrite1776 @dont-try-pesticide

Opulentus had always considered himself quite the ladies' man. It was hard not to, after all, when you were the most renowned, most wealthy, and most handsome wizard in all of Waterdeep. From child prodigy to a fellow at Blackstaff Academy, the very same institution where he'd studied since he was just a bright-eyed boy, there was no greater catch in the city. He was a legend in his own right, with a knack for charm and a wit that could melt even the hardest of hearts.

Tonight would be no different, he decided, as he twizzled his luscious, dapper moustache between his fingers, his gaze roaming across the rambunctious regulars of The Quaffing Quaggoth before landing on what might have been the most beautiful woman he'd ever layed eyes on. She stood out even in the crowded tavern, her presence like a breath of fresh air amid the rowdy patrons.

She was a half-elf by the looks of things, with soulful, winged eyes and long, dark waves that cascaded down her back in a flawless display of beauty. Her warm tawny skin was radiant, her cheeks kissed by rouge and her lips a gentle shade of berry pink. Her features seemed as if sculpted by Sune herself, crafted to be the perfect match for Opulentus' own magnificence.

Opulentus couldn't help but smile. Here was a challenge worth his considerable talents. He adjusted his shirt collar and straightened his posture, making sure his charms were in full effect.

Then, with an air of unrivalled confidence, he took a step forward, ready to make an impression. The wizard's reputation preceded him, but he knew that his charm would have to do the rest. After all, beauty like hers deserved nothing less than the best Waterdeep had to offer. And that, of course, was Opulentus himself!

“Oh, barkeep!” he called, suave and cool, as he stood beside her at the bar. As expected, she turned her head at his magnanimous presence. “A glass of your finest wine, please. For myself and…” He glanced at her with a wry, flirtatious smile. “This goddess among mere mortals.”

The woman raised her eyebrow at him, an amused smile curving her lips. She was probably thanking the gods for her good fortune, Opulentus thought, to be noticed by him—the most successful man this side of the Sword Coast.

“That’s quite alright,” she replied, her lilted voice sending shivers down his spine. “I have plenty of coin for my own drink.”

“Ah, but m’lady,” he said, mirroring her expression, “one so beautiful should not have to spend her own coin, no matter how much of it she may have.” 

He let his gaze sweep down her frame, noting her graceful yet slightly athletic build and the freckles dotting her collarbones. Could this be the woman he'd finally settle down with?

“I’m afraid to tell you that I’m quite taken,” she said, holding up a hand to stop the bartender as he moved to pass her the glass of wine.

“‘Taken’ is but a small obstacle, my dear,” he scoffed, running his fingers through his hair, making sure to flex his biceps as he did so. “I assume you know who I am?”

“Not at all,” she replied, her unimpressed tone making it clear how devoutly she was playing hard-to-get. By the gods, this woman was practically throwing herself at his feet!

“Ah, but then you must have travelled far! For I am the greatest wizard on the Sword Coast, a celebrity in my own right. My name is—”

“Elminster’s Beard – Gary? Gary Johnson?”

At the mention of his given name, one he'd long repressed, a chill ran through him. Not only because of the rude interruption but because it was a voice he knew all too well. His long-time nemesis, a rival to end all rivals.

“Gale of Waterdeep.” He snarled, turning to see the man standing behind him. The sight was enough to make his skin crawl—Gale, with his quickly greying long hair tied back in a bun, and his annoyingly perfect face wearing that insufferably charming smile. How could it be genuine after the embarrassment he'd suffered two years ago?

Indeed, when Gale of Waterdeep—the one man who had always outshone him, ever since their days as juniors at Blackstaff Academy—had proven himself a foolish, arrogant wizard, when he'd dared to betray Mystra, and was subsequently stripped of his magic, Opulentus had rejoiced. It was the happiest day of his life! Finally, he was the best! 

Yet here was Gale again, voice bright, skin radiant, with that same smile that made Opulentus grind his teeth. How could he be so joyful, so confident, after everything that happened? It was inconceivable – nay, impossible!

But he wouldn’t let such a disruption ruin his game. The man was a cad, a poor excuse of a wizard, and he would not let him take this chance from him.

He forced a charismatic smile to return to his face, as if the mere sight of Gale didn’t have him already quaking with envy, and patted the man firmly on his tall shoulder.

“Ah, my old friend!” He cheered through gritted teeth, “How have you been? Though you are quite mistaken, my name is Opulentus. Gary Johnson was my…” He paused, trying to conjure up an excuse. “...my brother! Ah, but that little fallout with Mystra must have rattled your brains some, hmm chum?”

“You always were so very humorous!” Gale replied, his laughter sounding so genuine that Opulentus could do nothing but blink in response. “And ‘rattle my brains’ it did, I’m afraid. Though, I’m sure you’ll be happy to know, I am quite returned to my old self – though certainly with many improvements!” 

Gale skirted around him so that his hand lay on the beautiful woman’s shoulder – so bold! So brazen! However, as he did, she looked up at him with the largest, most adoring eyes that Opulentus couldn’t help but blush… Ah, but in rage! Was this some twisted nightmare?!

“Opulentus, this is my betrothed, Tav. Does she not put the stars to shame?” Gale said oh so sweet and softly that Opulentus’ skin prickled. “Tav, this is… Opulentus. He and I trained at Blackstaff together as young men.”

“Nice to meet you, Opulentus.” She said, her tone equally as amused as before, though there was something softer in it, touched by tenderness. By gods, she was smitten with Gale of Waterdeep of all people! What lies must this man have wrought to have captured such a goddess’ heart so fully? For the second time no less?!

“Charmed,” he replied, sharply, but with as much false delight as could possibly be mustered, given the circumstances. 

But ah…! Was this not the perfect opportunity to make this poor girl aware of the man’s true nature? It would be cruel to keep her in the dark, surely this is why fate brought her to him! He’d rescue her, a beauty from a beast, and in the process, woo her. But that was his destiny. He was sure of it. 

“Tav, you say? And how did you meet?” He snarled. “Last I heard, Gale, you had secluded yourself to your tower in disgrace! Nought but a tressum to keep you company.”

“You are right, old friend,” The man nodded, seemingly… unbothered. “It is much too long a story, but the short of it is that — in a world of infinite possibilities — fate somehow brought the two of us together… Under the threat of ceremorphosis, no less!” He chuckled. “I’d have never thought I’d be thanking a mind flayer for my good fortune, but I suppose stranger things have happened.”

To say Opulentus was confused would be beyond obvious. Who was this man in front of him, so non-combatively taking such blows? Completely humbled yet talking of strange and potentially grave matters as if they were nothing? Something was surely amiss.

“Ah — then Tav, you must have saved this poor soul, I assume? My old friend, you see, had been stripped of his magic after defying his ex-lover, the goddess Mystra herself! I’m sure he must have been quite the burden to you.”

“Oh no, we saved each other in more ways than can be imagined.” She said lovingly, as giddy as could be as she lay a slender hand on Gale’s chest, he beaming at her, the heat between them unavoidable. Opulentus was beginning to feel angry. But no — he shouldn’t lose his cool. After all, he was the successful one! The powerful one! The one with… credentials! He’d finally beaten Gale of Waterdeep!

“You’re too modest, my love,” Gale said. “But, ah, we should be heading off. Wouldn’t want to keep mother waiting.” He wrapped his arm around Tav’s waist as she stood, floating to her feet like some ethereal being. “Let us meet again, soon, Opulentus. I’m sure my love would be most regaled by our schoolboy days – how competitive we both were!”

Opulentus’ smile fell flat. How dare this man pretend that the competition didn’t remain? Wasn’t he now flaunting his beautiful betrothed right in his face?!

"A pleasure, Gale of Waterdeep," he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Likewise, and please, it’s Gale Dekarios now. So long!”

And with that, the wizard and the beauty disappeared from the bar, leaving Opulentus scowling, a stem of wine in hand that he didn’t even bloody like. Ah - blows to it all! This wasn’t over, not by a long shot. Gale might think he had won some grand prize with his new love, but what did he know? After all, this Tav clearly had poor taste in men, seeing as she had chosen the most disgraced wizard in Waterdeep. Quite, she would not have been worth his time – a firebolt dodged, if ever Opulentus saw one.

Gale ‘Dekarios’, hmm. A plain name quite befitting a fallen rival.

Opulentus took a swig of his wine, grimacing at the taste. Who needed love and relationships? He had success, prestige, and all the respect that came with being the best wizard on the Sword Coast, a fellow of Blackstaff Academy. Let Gale keep his pretty bride-to-be; it didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. What truly mattered was respect. And Opulentus had plenty of it.

With a self-affirming nod, Opulentus downed his wine and stormed out of The Quaffing Quaggoth – nearly tripping over his own feet as he did so.

“Quiet down, class, quiet down!” Opulentus urged as he entered the lecture hall, his voice echoing off the stone walls. Normally, his students were quick to settle when he gave the command – his reputation as a strict yet brilliant professor preceded him – but today was different. The usual murmurs and whispers had escalated into a cacophony of excited chatter, much to his irritation.

"Class, quiet down!" he called again, this time with more authority. He banged his staff on the podium, which usually silenced the rowdy students, but today it had little effect. His patience was thinning, and he could feel the heat rising to his cheeks. What could possibly be so interesting that it overshadowed his entrance?

He focused on some of the students seated near the front, leaning in slightly to catch snippets of their conversation. It didn’t take long for him to piece together the cause of the commotion.

“Did you hear? The new Professor of Illusions is one of the saviours of Baldur’s Gate!!”

“YES! And oh my gods, and he’s sooo handsome!”

“-- And his partner! My bisexual awakening for real for real.”

“Seriously, such babygirl energy.”

“The biggest, I’m literally rattling the bars on my enclosure right now—”

Opulentus’ eyebrow twitched. So that was it—some new hotshot had taken the role of "celebrity professor," drawing all the attention away from him! Well, he certainly wasn't about to let some flashy hero usurp his position as the academy’s most respected instructor, even if they did have an impressive title.

Of course, he too had heard of the situation over in Baldur’s Gate – it had become international news at this point, the talk of every tavern. A Netherbrain had threatened the city only to be destroyed by a group of adventurers, and in several of the higher Wizarding circles, it had even been rumoured to have ties to Karsus, though that seemed preposterous, nothing more than illicit tales.

He cleared his throat and raised his voice authoritatively.

"I'm sure you're all quite excited to meet your new instructor, but in the meantime, you're in my class! Let's show a little respect, shall we?" The students quieted a bit, though he could still see their eyes darting back and forth with whispered gossip, like they couldn't wait to get out of his lecture and hear more about the new professor.

This would require a more forceful approach. He banged his staff once more, harder this time, and then leaned forward with a stern look that he reserved for such occasions. 

“You’re here to learn the advanced arts of Transmutation, not to gossip about other professors. Now, open your texts to page seventy-three, and let's begin–”

“ – Sorry to interrupt, old friend!”

Opulentus’ blood turned cold. Gods. Not him… anyone but him.

The lecture hall erupted once more in excited chatter as Gods’ Damned Gale of Waterdeep – ah, Gale Dekarios, suddenly waltzed into the room, his genial hand raised in greeting as he moved with effortless grace. The wizard wore immaculate scholarly robes, each step radiating an air of self-assured charisma that made Opulentus seethe. The students were captivated, and his annoyance grew with every whisper.

He had been the one to save Baldur’s Gate?! Infeasible! Absurd! The man must have shared some resemblance to one of the heroes and caused rumours to spiral, as they so often did in academic institutions. It could not be!

He clenched his jaw, trying to regain his composure as Gale approached closer, his smile as wide as ever, his demeanour exuding easy charm. Opulentus straightened, preparing to speak with the man quietly, without drawing more attention.

“I hope I’m not inconveniencing you at all, my astute colleague,” Gale said, “but I wondered if I may be so bold as to join your lecture? I believe it would be most beneficial to observe your teaching style with these particular students before taking them on myself, next period.”

Opulentus could feel rage boiling like a frog in a pot deep within his chest, so intensely that he was certain it was affecting his cholesterol levels. But what choice did he have? It was, as the saying goes: ‘Keep your enemies close, and your… friends closer?’ Wait, was that right? It didn’t seem right. Bah, alas. It didn’t matter.

"Of course," Opulentus said, forcing his tone to stay light and welcoming. "I’d be delighted to have you sit in. I'm sure you'll find my teaching style quite... instructive." He added a slight edge to his last word, just enough to hint that he was in control here, not the intruding, fraudulent Gale Dekarios.

Gale grinned broadly. 

"Thank you, Opulentus! I look forward to learning from your vast experience."

Opulentus gestured to a chair in the corner of the room, a clear signal that this was as far as Gale would be allowed to intrude. 

"Feel free to take a seat over there. I was just about to begin our discussion on advanced transmutation techniques. I'm sure you'll find it enlightening."

Gale nodded with a smile and made his way to the designated spot, his presence drawing the attention of several students who whispered and pointed in his direction. Opulentus took a deep breath, reminding himself that he was the one in charge here. Gale could observe, but he would not disrupt the lecture. Not if he had anything to say about it.

He turned back to the class, raising his voice to regain their focus. 

"Alright, everyone, let's get back to our discussion. Please open your texts to page seventy-three, and let's dive into the finer points of matter fabrication…" 

Throughout the lecture, he couldn't help but glance at Gale out of the corner of his eye, watching for any signs of further interference. But Gale just sat there, smiling and nodding, as if he were the most obedient student in the room.

Oh, how he hated him. Stupid, handsome, charming Gale Dekarios! This had to be another ploy, some underhanded scheme. The Gale he knew would have been all interruptions, eager to be the centre of attention. Yet, the man in his classroom was playing the role of humble observer—graceful, courteous, infuriatingly well-mannered.

Opulentus clenched his fists beneath the podium, his knuckles white with frustration. What had happened to the brash, reckless Gale he knew? This new version was even more unbearable. And the students! They were enchanted by him, their eyes constantly flicking over to where he sat, hoping to catch his eye.

But Opulentus refused to let Gale's presence diminish him. He'd worked too hard, earned too much respect to let one exiled wizard, no matter how charming, take that from him. So Gale had a pretty wife and the adoration of students. Big deal! Opulentus still had the accolades, the titles, the power that came with his position. He was still the respected professor, the one with connections to the most powerful wizards in Waterdeep.

He was the Opulentus! He'd won their rivalry!

Yet, as his eyes kept darting toward his new colleague, an unsettling feeling began to creep in. Was it… admiration? No, it couldn't be. Respect? Even more absurd. Gale was a has-been, a disgraced wizard who had defied Mystra herself, the goddess of magic. To admire him would be laughable.

And yet... there was something about Gale's unshakable confidence, his genuine warmth with the students, that gnawed at Opulentus's sense of superiority. It was as if Gale had found a different kind of power, one that didn't rely on accolades or titles. 

And it was maddening.

“Please, I thank you all for your kind welcomes, but I can hardly take so much credit!”

“Mr Dekarios, no need to be so modest! What you did was quite spectacular – if you don’t mind me saying so! From disgraced wizard to the chosen of Mystra, and with power even more potent than before!”

“You flatter me, but please, call me Gale.”

Gods! Even in the staff room, there was no relief from this man! Opulentus sat in the corner, sulking over a mug of black coffee, glaring at Gale over the rim of his glasses. The wizard was surrounded by colleagues who fawned over him, eager to hear his tales and bask in the glow of his newfound glory. Turns out – as inconceivable as it was – Gale Dekarios had been a saviour of Baldur’s Gate. Along with his betrothed, Tav, who was apparently a scholar in her own right, a sorcerer local to that city.

Opulentus took a long, bitter sip of his coffee, feeling the heat scorch his tongue but doing little to warm his mood. Why was everyone so taken with Gale all of a sudden? The man had been a pariah not long ago, a laughing stock among wizards. Yet now, here he was, the hero of Baldur's Gate, Mystra's chosen, and the most popular professor at the academy.

Gods. He couldn't stand the way everyone treated Gale like a celebrity, as if his past failures had never happened. It was as if Opulentus' years of hard work, his dedication to his craft, meant nothing compared to Gale's apparent underdog comeback. It wasn't fair!

But as he sat there, scowling into his coffee, a realisation struck him. It wasn't just the attention that bothered him—it was the fact that Gale didn't seem to care about any of it. He wasn't seeking adoration or approval; he was just... there, enjoying the company of others, sharing stories, and spreading good cheer.

And looking ever-so dashing as he did so…

…Bah! But it was all for show! It must be! Yet, try as he might, Opulentus could not make sense of it. He closed his eyes and pictured a grand conspiracy board with strings and thumbtacks, connecting all the dots of Gale's previous manipulations and betrayals. Surely there was a pattern here, some thread that would explain how Gale had orchestrated his miraculous comeback, how he had once again stolen the spotlight from under Opulentus' nose.

But no matter how hard he tried, the lines remained tangled, the connections fuzzy, and the dots... incongruent. It just didn’t make sense.

Well, fine!  If Gale wanted to play the role of the humble hero, so be it. Opulentus would play the role of the brilliant, stoic professor—the one with real power and authority. 

He loudly cleared his throat.

"Ah, Gale, quite the story! I'm surprised you're not writing books by now with all these tales. Although, I suppose it's easier to entertain people with fancy retellings than to actually do any real work, isn't it?"

The other staff members turned to Opulentus, a few of them raising their eyebrows at the unexpected jab. Gale, however, didn't seem fazed. He… chuckled!

"Well, storytelling is an art, after all.” He smiled. “But you're right, Opulentus—nothing beats the hard work and dedication that would go into writing novels, as I’m aware you have done time and time again. I guess that's why I have so much respect for you and your teachings! You’ve always been one to work tirelessly, never settling for less, be it in your writings or in the classroom."

Opulentus blinked, thoroughly surprised at the unexpected compliment. It surged something warm inside him, a friendly caress to his ego, and he found himself… blushing.

The other staff members nodded in agreement with Gale's words, a few of them even smiling at Opulentus with a newfound appreciation. It only made him more flustered—this wasn’t the reaction he'd intended at all!

He cleared his throat, trying to maintain his composure, but the warmth spread across his face and down his neck betrayed him. He’d tried to undermine Gale, only to end up complimented himself. Gods, it was baffling! But he couldn't backpedal now, not in front of the other professors.

"Yes, well," he managed to stammer, "dedication is key, as you well know. But let’s get back to work, shall we? We've got students to inspire and knowledge to impart." He tried to sound authoritative, but the quiver in his voice betrayed him even further.

“Absolutely!” Gale nodded with a grin that seemed annoyingly sincere, as if he were truly delighted by Opulentus’s words. “And thank you, as ever, for such riveting conversation, old friend. Let us catch up later, hm?” Gale said, giving Opulentus a friendly pat on the shoulder before leaving the staff room with a confident stride.

Opulentus watched him go, feeling the sting of defeat as his colleagues exchanged bemused glances and hushed whispers. He sat in the ensuing silence for a few minutes, gripping his mug, trying to push thoughts of Gale from his mind, but his introspection stirred, unrelenting and unquenchable.

No! No, he would not be defeated!

Resolutely, he slammed his mug down with a loud clatter and stormed out of the staff room, his mind racing with indignation. Damn it all, enough was enough! In just two days, Gale had swooped in, stealing the spotlight and proving himself to be Opulentus’ better once again. He wouldn't stand for it—not this time.

Turning the corner at the end of the long hall, his eyes fell on his rival across the hallway, the wizard speaking to a couple of students with his usual charm, the perfect picture of humility and enthusiasm. Opulentus cleared his throat loudly, causing Gale to turn toward him with that infuriatingly warm smile. The students glanced at Opulentus, then quickly scurried away, clearly sensing the tension.

"Alright, Gale," Opulentus said, his voice dripping with forced civility. "What's your plan? What are you after? Don't think I don't know what you're up to!"

Gale raised an eyebrow, his smile fading slightly. 

"Plan? What do you mean?" he asked, genuine-seeming confusion in his tone.

"Don't play innocent!” Opulentus replied, crossing his arms. “You return to Waterdeep and your first call of action is to show me up! Bah – waltzing around and acting all friendly and humble, like a changed man, but I know you. You just want to steal the spotlight, steal my thunder as you always have done! But for what? What is your reasoning, old ‘friend’?”

Gale paused for a moment, his expression softening as he looked at Opulentus. There almost seemed to be a look of pity behind his eyes and such a sympathetic gaze turned his stomach to knots. He almost couldn’t bear to maintain eye contact.

"No, Opulentus, that's not it at all," Gale said at last, calmly. "Though… You are right, in a sense. I was once an arrogant man, the perfect picture of a wizard full of hubris, and it only led me to ruin… as you well know.”

Opulentus shifted on his feet awkwardly, annoyed at himself for losing his composure. Yet, this was good. This meant that this ‘new Gale Dekarios’ would finally reveal himself.

“But I have changed. The journey I went on, the people I met, it showed me a different path – one I could have scarcely foreseen. I used to be obsessed with power and recognition, and I made a lot of mistakes because of it. I hurt a lot of people, including you.”

The man’s big brown eyes turned softer still, cute like a calf, guilty as could be. It struck a chord in Opulentus’ stone heart – but no… no, this… Was this true? Was Gale… apologising?

“...I would not be so careless again. I hope you can accept my most sincere apologies, and that we can perhaps forge a comradery going forward, perhaps even a friendship. You know… I’ve always respected you, Opulentus. I think we could learn a lot from each other.”

Gale offered his hand, palm open, inviting Opulentus to grasp it. Opulentus found himself gulping.

“What do you say? Shall we start over?”

Opulentus was taken aback. He’d expected denial, excuses, maybe even a fight, but an apology? And such a sincere one? It threw him off balance. He searched Gale's eyes, expecting to find some hint of deception, but there was none. Just honesty and remorse. He felt his anger waver – but no, could it be true?! Could Gale of Waterdeep really have changed? It was difficult to accept, but the warmth in his voice, the genuine regret in his eyes, seemed too real to ignore.

And so, Opulentus thrust his hand forward, grasping Gale's with a firm grip and giving it a hearty shake. Was it peculiar to say that it made his heart… flutter?!

“Alright, Gale,” he said slowly, keeping his expression neutral, though he was sure his confusion and fluster was evident. “We can start over. But don't think this makes us friends. Not yet. I’m still watching you.”

Gale nodded, a faint smile on his lips. 

“Understood. Though, I hope you’ll forgive me for saying that I’m hopeful!”

Opulentus smiled back at him, releasing his hand with annoying reluctance. He cleared his throat.

“Depends,” He said, swallowing down that strange and unfamiliar feeling entangling inside of him. “...Does your wife-to-be have a sister?”

[immoralimmortals]

Thank you for answering my burning character analysis question! I have tons more :D can you tell me about your thought process when you were writing each of the Akatsuki and how you put them together and how their personalities reflect in canon? Hugs

Oh...this is such a big question. I'll do my best! Answers under the cut <3

Honestly a big thing for me is to try to incorporate their actual way of speaking in my head? I try to notice the way they talk, and I think that's a big step into making them more convincing. I reblogged something before that's like...the best advice for writing, ever. Ask less "if" they'd do it and more "how" they'd do it. How, if you want something to happen, would this action be carried out by this character? I think this opens a lot of avenues for the imagination and helps make the story more fun. If you incorporate their manner of speaking, that's a big step into making the character believable (points in favor of you executing the "how")

For specific characters...here's some ideas I got in mind.

Itachi is a walking dead man. He knows he's dying. The thing that drives him is the execution of how he will die. So he keeps moving forward, at least so that how he passes on is the way it's meant to be. I think that makes it hard to enjoy life. I think he still treasures it-- i think he loves the little things like a sip of hot tea, a breeze in the air, the way someone smiles...but he's not exactly a thrill seeker. He doesn't go out of his way to enjoy things, especially if they're more outgoing in nature, unless it's to benefit someone he cares about. When it comes to said someones...he feels a great sense of responsibility. He's very subdued and doesn't intervene often, especially anything harsher than a suggestion, but when he DOES, it's quite controlling. Hence the whole assumption that using his genjutsu to solve problems being the right thing to do without their consent.

He's reflective, he's passive, he's tired...but he has very strong ideals that will cause him to act.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Kisame is a lot like Itachi in the sense that he's very understanding of receiving a poor fate based on his actions. However, it's like Itachi has a 100% assurance about life while Kisame still wavers. He has strong ideals, very much so, and he acts very surely...but he has trouble thinking of himself positively outside of how well he fights. Truth is very important to him, and I think he's always second guessing others' intents. Not always in the direction of "theyre treacherous liars", but also "they mean something besides what they say". Double speak, holding back feelings, that kind of thing. I think despite himself he has a strong sense of chivalry-- which I use less here in regards to gender itself and more as a sense of knightship, of gratitude and servitude to those he believes deserves it. He has rough hands and a monster sword; might as well put them to good use and stand between them and the thing that intends to harm.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

First and foremost about Deidara: he behaves as if someone in his life gave him the advice of "it is essential for your brain and health for you to make sure you are doing and learning new things" and he defined his whole existence around it. He WANTS to know more. He wants to learn, experience, he wants to expand his horizons. He isn't afraid of new information, at least not in itself. What's an artist if not also a critic, absorbing all the world has to give in order to reflect it in their work?

I also think of him-- since he's only 19 in the anime-- as someone who must have been a child prodigy, since he's so powerful and (presumably) feared. Here's a quote from chapter 22:

Being lauded as a genius from a young age is both a blessing and a curse for the clay ninja: a blessing because a lack of confidence is worse than slitting your own throat in the shinobi world. A curse…— ...Because Deidara so often forgets he’s hardly had time on this earth at all, at least not compared to his cohorts. You have to be quick on your feet to win the game. And so...he adapts(...)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Sasori is, predictably, the opposite of Deidara in a lot of ways. He's very self assured in the sense that HE is right and YOU are wrong. He's not very assured at all in regards to new information and other viewpoints. I've described him before-- and I mean this in the most loving way I can-- shallow and painfully self-conscious. He isn't good with criticism, isn't good with seriously considering other's conflicting viewpoints, and it takes him a long time or harsh outcomes to make him change his tune about something. I think he's so impatient despite loving the concept of immortality and eternity because he has inflexible criteria for what he's comfortable spending said immortality with. Time is precious. Don't waste his fucking time!

He's a lot more sensitive than he'll ever admit. That's why he's drawn to aesthetics; that's why he's so regretful of having a human heart. That's why he's so controlling over what exists around him.

"...I know how hard it is to try to talk to people,” the singer confesses. “That...it’s easier to deal with what you like and know and can predict, make that last instead of going through the trouble wasting through things you don’t just in hopes of it being better. I want to help!” Her breath hitches at this sudden reveal, but she takes a deep lungful to quickly correct. “I mean...I want it to be... easy for you.” (...) “I found myself wondering, you know? You know good things are eternal. So why is it so easy for you to feel your time is being spent badly? At first it seemed weird to me...but now it makes sense. You want your time well spent, to be full of things you enjoy or can at least tolerate. I get that.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Kakuzu is...a heartbroken man at the core that's built up layers around him to prevent that from ever happening again. I think he's very pragmatic. He looks at the past, sees his mistakes, and tries to move forward. He's halfway between thinking his past self-- before failing his suicide mission-- is an idiot and halfway to wanting to lock that piece of him in a box and protect it forever. It certainly wasn't *right*! ...But it did happen. So what now?

I think his perspective of money is the most factual, realistic conclusion he could come towards about what's reliable and ultimately matters. I don't think of him as a Scrooge type who's greedy for the sake of being greedy. I think he's very mindful of where money goes on a personal scale, the scale of the Akatsuki, and even up to international politics. He can't singlehandedly fix the way the world works, so he instead weaves through it, finds space and finances to make it work.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Hidan is...absolutely fascinating! He decided the logical conclusion of life is to experiment upon himself (see: torture) until he has received immortality. But that's not the reward in itself, no, he FERVENTLY believes in his god and he's right. He believes that slaughter is important and I think the sociological aspect of that is just so interesting. Because you're supposed to slaughter your neighbor. Is this meant as an extension of "don't trust anyone besides yourself"? Is the extinction of the human race the *intended* result? WHY does Jashin want people to die? What's that all for! Huh!

Anyway it really must be a very high tension, radicalizing childhood/life he's had to get him where he is. I think something very important to him is his autonomy. He wants what HE wants and why do YOU get to tell him otherwise? I think this explains why he complains about praying before battle, doing rituals to be forgiven for leaving someone half dead, etc despite being loyal to his faith.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Writing for Konan and Pain/Nagato is going to be really interesting, because a lot of it is going to be me figuring out how I feel about them on a more personal level, interacting emotionally. What I do feel strongly about is that they are both very virtuous, have very strong values. I think you have to in order to do what they're doing.

I think being Konan in particular must be very difficult because I think she is *consciously* very selfless. She isn't a pushover, she isn't uncaring, she doesn't act merely because she has nothing else to do besides what you suggest. She gives herself fully to her role as Pain's angel. How much of yourself do you give away for that? Her own opinions, ideas, wants...she willingly gives it up like she's a saint. Her life's purpose is to carry out the will of whom she perceives as a literal god on earth.

...But that god was once her friend. The body he inhabits is the corpse of the man she fell in love with. I think you HAVE to be broken up over all this, even if you try to put it aside for the greater good.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

I think of Nagato very similarly, in that he's not himself anymore but what he *needs* to be. He's a god. He has to play the role of god. Do things he doesn't want to do, take on responsibilities that perhaps shouldn't be put just on one man. Your autonomy just...whoosh! It's gone. You're an idea now, not a person. You have a goal, that's why you exist. Is it inevitable? Is this the only way he could have made sense of the kind of life he lived? Can someone give this guy a warm blanket and a hug? Holy shit, that's sad.

The flip side is that as a result he's very straightforward and assured. It makes de-personalization from his choices a lot easier.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

I'm going to be honest with you: I haven't fully decided how Zetsu works! I've done extensive roleplay as fusion characters before (think in similar terms as Steven Universe) so I'm not uncomfortable or unfamiliar with the concept. I'm just not...entirely sure...how the concept is carried out? Like if he's always, literally, two people that happen to share a body or if they're one person. The solution in the roleplay I mentioned is that the answer has to be both. So that's how I write him! Sometimes thoughts are from one of them, sometimes thoughts are from another. They, however, have a LOT of common ground and it makes it easy to make him coherent when I write.

Zetsu has such a disconnect from other people. One half has a nearly scientific, detached sort of interest in humans while the other is, as far as I can tell, the personification of hatred for humanity and a desire to start over? I think that makes him a very callous person with a great sense of humor. I also think this makes it very difficult for him to know his feelings when it comes to feeling positively, connectingly towards those around him. Stop that, feelings! I don't like that! Surely what I *really* want is control and to belittle the person! ...Why don't I feel better.

He just stares. There she is, just as he wanted. Scared, desperate, underneath his thumb, remorseful of her actions...and yet. And yet. ...He is not satiated.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Tobi is a caricature of what Obito thinks of his child self, a genre-aware character who he uses to tell the kind of story he thinks life is. He is flagrantly foolish, cheery, useless(?), emotional, and personal. Tobi has all of the traits that Obito thinks he was as a naive kid and turns it up to 11, and THEN he uses the persona to be mean to people. I'm kind of obsessed with it, I think that's hilarious. When I write for him, I constantly think of how he compensates for having a masked face by greatly exaggerating his physical movements and tone of voice. He is, at heart, a performer doing a performance.

Obito himself...so he runs on the assumption that if he succeeds, then everything he's ever done will be justified. Right? I think that results in someone simultaneously so sure of themself while also feeling like he's stepping on nails every step of the way. Something deep in him has to be uncomfortable and hate it. For this reason, as the story develops, I think in the fic he's relieved. He sees purpose in seeing joy and relationships develop when Takara is there because he sees it as a demonstration of sorts. Him learning what it takes to try to make a world worth living in...which is ultimately what he plans to do.

If you want to know anything more specific, do let me know! Thanks for the ask uvu

[autisticlancemcclain]

“Hey, Lance.” A taunting laugh, smirk audible in his voice. “I got your lion back.”

He’s so smug he’s dripping with it, truly. If satisfaction was a person he would be the one and only Keith Gyeong, prodigy pilot extraordinaire.

He did, however, go out of his way to get Lance’s lion back for him. So.

“Thank you, Keith,” Lance says, injecting as much sincerity into his voice as he can muster. He’s well aware he’s still at a disadvantage here, and he knows Keith is his best shot for help (he would literally rather die than ask Shiro, Pidge would take twelve thousand photos and hoard them over his head for eternity, Hunk has a told-you-so problem, and he doesn’t know the Alteans well enough to take that particular L in front of them). “Now can you come and unchain me?”

Lance is expecting teasing. Duh. That’s the point of this whole rivalry spiel. He is not, however, expecting to be abandoned.

“What’s that? Uh, you’re cutting out, I can’t — I can’t hear you —”

Oh, Lance is going to kill him.

“Come on! I thought we bonded!”

Nothing. Not even static over the comms, which tells Lance that Keith has yet to fucking cut the connection, and is, in fact, being a horrible smug jerk.

A horrible smug jerk that is Lance’s only saving grace, unfortunately.

Man, fuck. Why is Lance expected to be friends with this jerk again?

“Keith?”

Still nothing.

“Buddy?”

Fuck, not even a muffled snigger.

“…My man?”

Is it desperate? Yes. Was the bonding dig also desperate? Yep. Is Lance digging himself into a deeper hole by the minute? Quite probably.

He does that regularly, though. He’ll get out eventually.

Hopefully.

Lance continues to nag a silent Keith through the comms, and then switches to cussing him out, in as many languages as he can (which is a lot. He doubts Keith has ever been called a fart-snorting garbage-guzzler in Gaelic, heh. Ass). He’s hoping to incense Keith enough to get him to fire back and prove that he’s been listening all along, but not too much that he turns around and refuses to help. It’s a delicate balance. Lance is usually very good at it. (Nothing on Earth is funnier than making your older siblings absolutely raging mad and then watching them continue to help you with whatever you ask for. It is, truly, an art form.)

But since Lance was forsaken by the gods the very second he was shot into space, Keith remains absolutely soundless.

And honestly? How dare he.

Muttering to himself, Lance tries to shift into a slightly more comfortable position. Eventually he manages to get his knees under him, chest to the floor, and curves his back to take the pressure off his wrists, which isn’t amazing but is better than before. It’s certainly not easy to do — this handcuff shit is hard. Lance always thought it would be way more fun.

“Well, damn, Sanchez. You sure you even want me to help you? You’re lookin’ pretty comfortable all stretched out.”

Lance yelps loudly, startling at Keith’s drawl. When the hell did he get here? Why didn’t Lance see him arrive in Red?

“Did you seriously use Pidge’s cloaking just to sneak up on me?” he demands.

Keith steps into Lance’s field of vision, smirking up a goddamn storm. He crouches right beside the pole Lance is chained to, reaching out a hand (dodging Lance’s attempt to bite his fingers off) and tilting up his chin.

“‘Course,” he admits, easy as pie. Then his smirk gets wider. “Think I was gonna pass up a chance to see ya all tied up and testy, pretty boy?”

Pretty boy.

Oh, no. Oh no, no, no.

“Fuck,” Lance says, aghast. “Fuck, fuck!”

The sudden expletives startles Keith, a little, and the smug expression drops from his face.

“What? What’s wrong?”

Lance face contorts in panic. “You’re hot! You’re not supposed to be hot! Fuck!”

This is Lance’s own goddamn fault, really, but he would like to take a brief moment to blame both higher powers and the internet at large for making him this way.

The thing is that Lance likes to bug people. He likes to push people’s buttons and run off before they can push his back. Usually, anyway, people don’t want to push his back; they just want to throw shit at him or roll their eyes and walk away.

But Keith?

Of course not. Heaven forbid Keith act like every other human being on the planet — er, well, alien in the universe. No, Keith has absolutely no trouble snapping right back to whatever Lance throws at him. Keith actually plays his game.

And fuck, does Lance love it.

That’s a huge problem. Massive. Lance doesn’t know what to do with someone who indulges him! That’s not the point! The point is for people to get annoyed and for Lance to win by default! He’s not supposed to be the one getting flustered!

“…What,” Keith says flatly. He blinks rapidly at Lance, confusion written all over his face.

There’s a splash of red spreading across his nose.

“Oh, fuck you!” Lance explodes — or, well, as much as he can while he’s still chained to a fucking pole. “Of course you have to be a fuckin’ — smug jackass! And of course you look good doing it! And of fucking course you’re a goddamn country boy!”

And the hole Lance has dug himself gets deeper.

Lance astounds himself, really. He should arrange to have his mouth glued shut.

“This is the worst! It’s one thing if you’re just some guy, but nooooo! Of course you have fucking — crooked incisors and a Southern drawl! Oh, you are the worst, you know that, Gyeong?”

“This is going in a rapidly different direction than I pictured,” Keith manages.

“Oh, picture me tied up and at your mercy a lot, do you?” Lance snaps back.

It’s a reflex, really. Lance says shit like that all the time, because he’s his own target audience. It never does anything but make people roll their eyes at him, and occasionally land him in detention. Hell, he barely even registered that he said it.

But, fascinatingly, the tiny smudge of red over Keith’s nose explodes into a raging blush, from the roots of his hair down his neck.

“There’s no possible way you know that,” Keith says hotly.

Lance’s jaw drops. “No way that I — I didn’t! I wasn’t — bitch, I was joking!”

Keith scowls, flush getting deeper. “Well, what about the shit you said before? You said I’m hot!”

“Yeah, because you fucking are! I’m not — I don’t daydream about you, at least! I don’t have a — a fucking thing for you, though?”

As he says it, Lance knows he’s lying. All of a sudden every single one of Hunk’s raised eyebrows whenever Lance ranted about Keith start to make a lot of sense.

“Bullshit!” Keith argues. “You always stare at me during training, and you pick random fights with me all the time, and yet you sit next to me all the time for no reason! You’re fuckin’ obsessed with me!”

“I —” Lance stops, jaw clicking shut. It is occurring to him, just now, that straight, non-crush-having people don’t generally obsess over one-sided rivalries for five years, and then do everything they can to make that rivalry a reality.

So. An oversight, perhaps.

“There’s a possibility,” Lance concedes, “that my subconscious, without my permission, has perhaps harboured some strange type of feelings for you.”

“Told you,” Keith says faintly. He looks just as lost as Lance does, though, so it significantly lowers the effect.

Lance is gagged. He is, for once in his life, at a complete loss for what to say. What does this even — who comes up with this kind of shit? Who does this? Lance is his own worst enemy, truly. Sorry, Zarkon, but take a seat.

“Lance, dude?” Hunk’s voice, faint and tinny from Lance’s discarded helmet, makes them both jump. “Do you still need rescuing?”

“Fuck, sorry,” Keith mutters, finally springing into action and deactivating the stupid cuffs. Lance scrambles back the second he’s free, rubbing his wrists and avoiding eye contact with Keith while also constantly sneaking glances aren’t him that aren’t at all sneaky because Keith catches him every time.

“So,” Keith says eventually.

Nope. Lance isn’t having this stupid conversation.

Lance throws a random rock at him.

“Hey!” Keith picks it back up and whips it at Lance immediately, only his aim isn’t as good as Lance’s, and also Lance is already diving to grab more rocks, so he misses. Lance starts pelting Keith with the armful of space rocks he’s gathered, each of them no bigger than an ice cube, all of them pinging harmlessly off Keith’s armour.

“Lance — will you — fucking cut that out!”

He lunges forward, shoving Lance to the ground and pinning Lance’s hands above his head. Lance bucks and squirms, trying several of the new maneuvers Shiro taught them to throw Keith off, but unfortunately Keith had also been present at the training in which they learned these manoeuvres and is therefore unaffected.

“I’ll let you up if you stop throwing shit at me.”

“No.”

“Guess you’re stuck, then.”

Lance tries for several more minutes to escape, but Keith remains firmly where he is, pinning Lance down. Lance is eventually forced to stop unless a new problem wants to pop its way up and make things more embarrassing and horrible.

Lance huffs. “Let me up. I promise not to throw more rocks at you.”

Keith squints suspiciously at him. “Are you lying to me?”

“Yes.”

“Well then — no, obviously?”

“C’mon, Keith.”

Lance does what he always does when he’s backed into a corner — he pulls out the brown doe eyes. He furrows his eyebrows, widening his eyes as big as he can and pouting.

“For fuck’s — oh, fine.”

Keith rolls off Lance, grumbling the whole time.

Lance blinks.

That — that worked? All he had to do was ask, barely, bat his eyelashes a little, and Keith just — listened to him?

“Oh my God, we are down bad for each other,” Lance breathes.

Keith looks ready to argue, but then stops himself, sighing.

“Yeah.”

“What are we going to — fuck, what are we going to do?”

Because Lance is not new to crushes. He’s had more of them than he can physically count. But never in his life has he wanted to judo flip someone as badly as he wanted to make out with them. That’s a new development.

“I dunno,” Keith says helplessly. He’s kind of — curled in on himself, face still red, as if he curls into a tight enough ball he can escape the situation. “You’re the plan guy! When you’re not being a dumbass, that is.”

Ignoring the jab, Lance takes a moment to ponder that. He is kind of the plan guy, isn’t he? It’s him who came up with all the Garrison escape plans he dragged Hunk into. It’s him who came up with the elevator shaft idea. Hell, he can quite possibly trace every one of his major life moments to a point where he said ‘hey, I wonder how I can make this work for me.’

Plan guy. Plan guy. He can be the plan guy. That’s all anything is, right? Making decisions and working out how to get there. He’s good at that.

But what decision does he want with Keith? What does he want with Keith, period?

“Step one,” Lance decides, “is that we should make out.”

Keith looks at him in surprise. “That’s step one?”

Lance nods firmly. “Yep. If we make out now, we can figure out all the weird tension shit. Maybe we don’t actually like each other. Maybe we’re just, like, bored.”

Keith looks doubtful, but he makes his way closer anyway.

“I guess so.”

“Yep.”

“So I just — kiss you?”

“Well, we don’t have all day, Mullet.”

Truly, Lance’s heart is pounding. He has no fucking clue how he’s managing to sound even remotely normal. He feels like he might implode.

Hesitantly, Keith reaches for Lance’s face, resting a palm on his cheek. His hand is warm, even through the gloves of their suits. Hot, really; nearly burning. He rests it there for a moment, absentmindedly — or maybe intentionally — rubbing his thumb across Lance’s cheekbone as his eyes trace nervously over Lance’s lips. He leans in close slowly, like he’s got all the time in the world, eyes fluttering shut as his lips get closer and closer to Lance’s. He gets close enough that Lance can see the startling length of his eyelashes, the tiny mole at the corner of his mouth, the chapped skin of his lips.

Lance doesn’t even know how to categorize the sound that comes out of his mouth when their lips finally touch. It’s — breathy; stuttering. Like all the air escapes out of his lungs the second his skin touches Keith’s.

Keith tilts his head a little, sliding their noses together, his free hand coming to rest at Lance’s hip. Lance’s hands move without his permission, sliding up the chest plate of Keith’s armour and over his shoulders, resting finally in his hair, fingers tangling around the thick black strands. He pulls on them slightly, and Keith gets the hint, opening his mouth and pushing closer.

Lance’s heartbeat slows from its jackrabbit pace. He stops focusing on anything except the warmth of Keith’s skin on his, the rhythm of their mouths moving together, the occasional sighs Keith makes at the back of his throat. He forgets where he is, what he’s doing; hell, he forgets his own damn name. The only thing he cares about is pressing closer to Keith, keeping them melded together.

“Well. Obviously you didn’t need saving.”

Lance’s eyes fly open and he shoves Keith backwards with a yelp.

“Hunk! What — where the fuck did you come from?!”

“Yellow is not a quiet machine,” Hunk says drily. “Like, seriously. The fact that you are just now reacting to my presence speaks wonders. I know you’ve liked Keith for a while now, dude, but there’s no way he’s that good of a kisser.”

“Oh my God,” Keith says faintly, and Lance can’t help but agree.

Goddamn. First he’s kissing Keith, now he’s agreeing with him. What’s next? They gonna co-lead Voltron together, or something?

“Let’s just go,” Lance squeaks, scrambling to his feet and desperately avoiding eye contact. He follows a very amused-looking Hunk back to his lion, enduring his painful amount of teasing with a bright red face and a truly herculean amount of self-control, if he’s being honest. The teasing from the rest of the team is almost worse, their ‘Loverboy Lance’ jokes briefly making him panic that everyone knows about the fact that he and fucking Keith Gyeong just made out, somehow, before he remembers that oh yeah, dumbass, you were just tied to a pole for flirting with the a scam artist.

Yeesh. How time fuckin’ flies.

The only consolation to the staggering amount of humiliation is that Keith keeps glancing at Lance, going red, and looking away. So obviously Lance isn’t the only one so affected, which is a relief.

Once everyone has finally gotten their fill of making fun of Lance, Shiro dismisses them, and Lance makes a beeline to his room. He rushes through his skincare routine as quickly as he can, refusing to let himself think about a single thing the entire time.

It doesn’t work. Every single time he catches sight of his own reflection, he’s reminded that his face just spent inordinate amounts of time pressed against Keith’s not even an hour ago. Keith is all he can think about.

Plan. Plan. What’s the plan? Is there a plan?

It is not a surprise when he hears a knock at his door.

“So,” Keith says when Lance opens it, rocking back in his heels. “What’s — uh, what’s step two?”

Lance smiles, allowing himself to feel the giddiness that’s bubbling up his throat, the parts of him that are yelling ‘Keith! Keith Gyeong! He sought me out! He wants to go further! With me!’

“Let’s figure that out together,” Lance says, pulling Keith into the room and shutting the door. “I’m thinking this is going to be more of a two-man operation.”