#'snap you can just read it online at this point you know that right' i know .......... i have no defense 😔

[xxplastic-cubexx]

I was extremely skeptical going into rogue the savage land bc 1) Rogue objectification and 2) Rogneto but I actually thought issue 1 was alright! Not my favorite thing ever but way better than I was expecting (the bar was so low though). There wasn't romance (there was kind of one panel of ~eye contact~ but that's it) and despite the covers, it wasn't just Rogue tits & ass shots the entire issue. We'll see how it goes from here but I'm encouraged by Seeley saying he wasn't interested in their romance. The marketing around the entire series has been nothing but "ooooh half naked Rogue" and "ooooh Rogue and Magneto steamy jungle romance" but the actual content inside was decent and had some good character depth.

ill NEVER be a fan of the savage lands outfit in general i think that'll always leave a bitter taste in my mouth BUT NO YEAH when i skimmed it in the shop i was actually interested ..... the advertising team for this issue really were prioritizing the wrong things 💀

[inkskinned]

don't worry, they're joking! they're always joking when it would be something, like bigoted. because i'm not a bigot, obviously, i just vote for bigots - well, they're not bigots either, you can't really call someone a bigot just because they have religious views. this is the land of the free, and it's a christian nation, after all. you can pretend otherwise but let's just be real here; all our values are really based on the bible. anyway, i know you liberals get your panties in a twist - can i say that, or are you gonna cancel me, haha, #metoo - about every little joke he said and every little dramatic political view. oh, fascist this and fascist that. you are online too much, you love the word fascist because it's big and you're just paranoid about things.

well, no, i don't, like, read the policies. i have a life. and so what if they wrote - stop it, it's not a manifesto, okay? he eventually backed off from that - oh the vice president? who cares about that guy, that isn't real power. you're being dramatic, they're just spitballing. everyone makes big claims when they're out there campaigning. he just means he personally wouldn't get gay married. you want him to divorce his wife and get gay married? anyway, even if they cancelled gay marriage - it wouldn't happen, okay? nobody i know really cares about that - it'd be states-rights like those abortions you love so much. and you live in a blue state. you live in like the gay capital of the world. i don't know why it'd be so bad for you, you're borrowing trouble there.

and besides, you're missing the point of his campaign! you people want to be victims so bad you completely ignore what we're really voting for. there are tons of good things that happened because of his name and his policies - the economy, for one. oh stop, just because i can't tell you what a tariff is off the top of my head doesn't mean i don't have eyes. and stuff was better under him! well, yeah, anything good is his work, obviously. what? no, all the bad stuff was biden. and probably also obama. what do you even care about this, anyway? it's not going to effect you. it's four years.

oh my god, not the climate change argument again, i'm not getting into that. i don't care about it. if my house is beachfront that's great news for me. and we don't really know what's causing it. no, i saw you forwarded me those articles and i just laughed. what, do you think i have time to sit on my ass and read shit? huh? well, no, i like reading the babylon bee. they actually had a great article about all you climate freaks. and in the meantime, what do you want me to do? i'm not paying 4 dollars for gas. liberals love to talk about solutions but never pay for the solutions. what do you mean blocked because of congress. you gotta stop with the conspiracy shit.

no, my side doesn't have real conspiracy theories. the vaccine thing is a real thing. besides, you yourself don't like big pharma. just because i have an opinion, suddenly now you think big pharma is great? and this is serious, okay? your mom's friend's coworker has a kid that died from a heart event. i don't want you getting any more vaccines. i regret that you got them as a kid, i'd redo them. what do you mean you'd vaccinate your own kids? are you finally thinking of having some? you know i want grandkids - oh stop, i've never pressured you, i'm just saying that if you're going to get gay married, you might as well give me some normal grandkids to love.

stop, you know what i meant. what? no, he's not going to take away your right to adopt. besides, you could always use a sperm donor, haha, i know your high school ex would love to - jesus! okay! no need to snap. i'm just saying that you don't need to be married to have a kid. the only real benefit to marriage is taxes, haha. it won't change anything. oh my god, no, there won't be a rise in hate crimes. well, it's not his fault what people do in his name! he eventually spoke out against that, anyway.

what do you mean he supported them? i didn't hear him say that. oh. well, yeah, he said it, but like, he's clearly joking.

[cottonlemonade]

Dating You For A Bet [Part 2]

word count: 1756 || avg. reading time: 8 mins.

pairing: University AU!Matsukawa x chubby!Reader

genre: angst

warnings: bullying

[part 1]

The following days were miserable. Between dodging Matsukawa lurking outside your dorm and having to see him in most of your seminars and lectures it was hard to pretend that you didn’t care, much to the delight of the fellow students who apparently had nothing better to do or collectively lost their WiFi and were starved for entertainment. They threw glances between the two of you as if following a tennis match, although you were stubbornly pretending to follow the lesson while Issei just listlessly stared at his closed book.

He had tried to talk to you after lectures, during lunch, or when he ran into you at the convenience store but to no avail. You remained strong, frequently reminding yourself that everything from your first kiss to the first time sleeping together was solely done to win a bet. A bet! To him, you were nothing more than some easily manipulated, naive girl from a country he probably didn’t even know how to spell. The three crumpled notes from that day were still at the bottom of your trash can, unread, and now buried under more paper scraps, gum wrappers, and empty juice boxes. Your roommate hadn’t noticed or questioned why you didn’t leave in the evenings anymore to go on dates. Chances were that she had read about the whole thing online.

You were tired of it all. The initial burst of energy you felt, fueled by nothing but spite, had finally ebbed away and at this point, Christmas was drawing nearer and nearer and you ran on fumes. Having tried to deep dive into homework and assignments had left you fatigued and vulnerable, so it came to no surprise that a month after the break up you couldn’t take it anymore. You had figured that the other students would eventually move on to the next shiny thing but not so. A small group of boys and girls stood in front of the library with coffee cups steaming in their hands. You braced yourself inwardly. You just wanted to quickly return a book and then you’d be on your way again. When you approached them they interrupted their conversation to very obviously look you up and down as if judging your post-break-up fashion choices.

“I just knew there had to be a reason for him dating her.”, one of them said, deliberately loud enough for you to hear.

“Oh my god, I know right? I can’t believe she fell for it. I mean, what would someone like him ever see in someone like her.”, another piped up.

“Honestly kudos to him, I dunno if I could have gotten it up with her in bed.” They laughed.

You stopped on your way up the stairs. Matsukawa stood in front of you just coming out of the building, a tattered, well-annotated book in hand and his bag half-hearted slung over his shoulder.

The group of friends gasped quietly and hushed each other, waiting.

“Y/n…”, Issei said softly, then snapped at the others, “Don’t you have somewhere to be?!”

They laughed again but hurried inside.

“Y/-“

He couldn’t even finish the word. You had already turned around and walked away. And he would have let you get the space you needed if he didn’t see you cry. Readjusting his bag he slowly made his way down the steps and followed you, a couple of meters behind.

Whenever you missed your family he had tried to bring a bit of home to you with a traditional dish he knew you loved - that he usually messed up - or by watching a Disney movie in your native language while snuggling up on his bed under a blanket. But what had helped you most of all when you were upset was always a simple hug. And he never let go first. He made sure that you knew he would hold you as long as you needed. When you first told him you loved him he was wracked with guilt. He had since come to realize how messed up the whole thing was and tried to get out of it. He lied when his friends asked him if he had completed the bet but his roommate had only patted him on the back and accused him of being modest. And he, Issei, had forced a smile and accepted the money feeling like the most disgusting person in the world. The money still sat untouched in his sock drawer. He didn’t want to use it. He felt ashamed of himself but whenever he spent time with you he was weirdly glad that he agreed to the bet. Otherwise, who knows if he would have walked up to you as he had. Privately, to make himself feel better, he thought, of course he would have.

He would have noticed eventually how amazing you were.

He would have eventually seen how much you two had in common, that in all actuality you were his dream girl.

He would have. Eventually. Wouldn’t he?

Probably not, he had to admit. Ever since puberty hit him like a truck he walked around with a newfound level of confidence. This must have been what it was like for Oikawa back then - girls doing a double take and smiling when they saw him, little admiring love notes tucked quickly into his workbook when he wasn’t looking. All the attention slowly rose to his head and he became arrogant, leading to agreeing to a bet he would have punched his friends for in high school.

Hands in his pockets and breath forming little clouds in front of him, Issei’s heart broke all over again when he caught a small sound from you like a sniffle or a sob. As if on reflex his hand slid into the front of his bag to check for tissues, then remembered you probably wouldn’t accept them.

You finally came to a halt at a bench near your dorm. You spun around and stared at him icily through red puffy eyes.

“Stop following me. You know this is creepy, right?”

“I prefer to see it as romantic.”

You scoffed. “It’s only romantic if feelings are reciprocated.”

He swallowed hard. “… I deserved that.” Then he reached into his bag and retrieved a water bottle, walked a little closer, and held it out.

“Here, drink something. I can see you squinting like you do when you’re about to get a massive headache, come on.”

You had a retort ready to launch but your head was starting to pound from the crying so with a scowl you took it and gulped down a few sips.

“None of this makes what you did okay.”, you said, unwavering.

He nodded. “I know. - Can I hold you anyway? Just til you stop crying.”

His question made new tears well in your eyes and he closed the gap between you. Before he hugged you, he hesitated in case you would kick and scream if he did. When you only continued to cry he wrapped his arms around you. At first, it was like hugging a mannequin. Then he felt you shiver and sob harder and he squeezed you tighter.

This, the warmth of him, smell of him, soothing murmurs in your ear, made it all too easy to forget for a moment why he wasn’t yours anymore.

You subconsciously grabbed onto his jacket and he started slowly swaying from side to side. He missed you so damn much. His eyes began to sting.

And on reflex like he always had, he pressed his lips against your temple, then against your cheek, then your lips. You stiffened for a moment, then returned the kiss. With his heart swelling in his chest, he cupped your cheeks to wipe away the tears, but you were already pushing him away.

“No! You can’t just… this is not okay. You hurt me! You … you broke my heart! I feel embarrassed! And pathetic. And betrayed! Don't you understand?!”

His vision blurred and he lowered his head to stare at your shoes again to hide that he started crying as well. He just nodded at first, then took a shallow breath to calm down a little.

“I know.”, he said, his voice thick and raspy. He cleared his throat, “What I did was horrible. And immature. And there is no way I can take it back. But I do love you.”

“Tch.”

“So much. I don’t want to be without you.”

“Would you give me another chance?”, you asked suddenly.

He looked up. “What?”

“If you were in my shoes. If I did to you what you did to me. Could you just get over that? Imagine if someone way out of your league started flirting with you because they thought it was funny. Because they wanted to see if they could make you fall in love. For fun.”

“That’s not… I’m so so sorry, Y/n.”

“Stop saying that!”

“I don’t know what else to do! Please, tell me, I’ll do anything!”

“There is nothing you can do! I told you it’s over!”

“I refuse to believe that! Let me show you how much I love you! I know that some part of you still loves me, too. And I know you’ll forgive me eventually because you’re a much better person than I am.”

“I think you severely underestimate just how petty I can be and how much I love holding grudges.”, you retorted and the smallest smile twitched on his lips.

There was a pause in which his expression turned gentler again and he used the sleeve of his jacket to mop up the tears gathering on his chin. “Tell me what I can do.”

“Actually show me that you’re sorry? - And find better friends.”

“Done.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”, he said firmly, “You’ll see.”

“Hm hm.”, you said doubtfully and held out the bottle to him, “Thanks for the water. I should get going.”

“Book club tonight, right?”, he asked. It was still set as a permanent reminder in his phone’s calendar so that he’d come to pick you up afterward to walk you to your dorm.

“Actually… I have a date.”

You waited for a moment before you dared to look at him again. His face had fallen and he seemed at a loss for words. When you brushed past him you half expected him to grab your hand again, to try to talk you out of it. But nothing. He stood exactly where you left him and so you went inside.

tags because I genuinely appreciate all your comments and reblogs: @samoankpoper21 @garouaddict @gojoscloset @multi-fandom-fanfic @crazyyanderefangirlfan

[part 3]

[hoes4lino]

A Mistake I Will Never Regret ❄️

WARNING ⊂✦⊃ This story contains suggestive / nsfw content. Minors please don’t interact, beware of the content you consume online.

Genre: Friends to lovers, comedy, romantic, college AU.

Word count: 4.8k

Reading time: 18 minutes

“Making this plan was a mistake but I don’t regret the outcome”

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ 🎐 *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ 🎐 *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ 🎐 *ೃ

The cold breeze of January made your body shiver as you waited patiently for your best friend to arrive. You paced in circles, pointer finger stuck in between your teeth as you bit it anxiously.

This was a bad idea. You told yourself, you don’t even recognize yourself for what you are about to do.

A loud thump and the cold sensation in your neck made you turn around quickly. He was here. There was no turning back.

His soft laugh embraced your ears as you rolled your eyes annoyingly “You are so annoying, you know that” You glared at the boy that had literal tears forming in his eyes.

“Hey!” He snapped back “Says the girl that texted me in the middle of the night to meet up in the park on a snowy day” He mocked you, making you cringe at yourself as you remember why you are here.

“Right….” You mumbled, He noticed the shift in your mood and looked at you concerned “What is it?” He questioned you. Shit. You took a deep breath preparing yourself for what you’re about to request.

“How much do you love me?” Looking at him with puppy eyes making him scoff “I don’t have money if that’s what you want” You snort looking at him in disbelief “I don’t need money”

He tilted his head confused “Are you in trouble?” “No” “Are you in your death bed?” “No” “Are you leaving?” “No.” He stopped questioning you to think.

“Will you let me-” He cut you off “OMG ARE YOU PREGNANT?” This man can never be serious “You know I had my doubts, ever since I saw you looking at the baby clothes at target” You bend to grab a snowball and threw it at his face.

“Hey!” He yelled as he cleaned the snow in his face “Im not pregnant! And can you blame me? That tiny dinosaur pj was hella cute” You scoff.

“Well if you are not pregnant then what is it?” The way he looked at you made it a hundred times more difficult to say.

“I need you to pretend to be in love with me” You cringe at your words as he stood there with a straight face.

A minute passed no words just intense eye contact “Say something” You practically begged. His body falling to the ground as he frantically started laughing.

“C’mon Minho I’m serious!!” You grabbed his hood to pull him back to his feet. “Damn late hours in the night really do wonders to people” He teased making you regret for even suggesting him.

“Pleaseee” You throw yourself to your knees and begged him grabbing his leg “I will never ever ask you for another favor” You look up at him with puppy eyes making him roll his eyes.

“Ok but like for what? Girl I need more details” You stood up happy that he accepted, you pulled him into a hug. “I will tell you more in the morning, Im freezing to death right now” You said as you started running away like a child who just got in their way.

“Wait y/n!!” He started chasing after you.

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ 🎐 *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ 🎐 *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ 🎐 *ೃ

“Ok so let me get this straight” Your best friend traced as he took a sip of his hot chocolate.

“You like Hyunjin.” He looked up as to see if he understood everything you just told him “But he only likes girls that are hard to get, so you want me to pretend like im one of your hoes… to make him jealous?” He squinted his eyes as he spoke.

“You make it sound dumb but yeah that’s the plan” You grin at him as you offered him a piece of your chocolate croissant which he accepted.

He laughed “What are we high schoolers?” He teased gaining a glare from you “I know it’s childish, but what’s life without drama?” You say gaining a preach gesture from Minho.

“You got a point, so when are we starting” He said vaguely as he grabbed his phone. “As soon as possible, but remember! You are the one that needs to pretend like you want me.” You grabbed his phone so he would look at you.

“Yeah, yeah I know” He said rolling his eyes “But what’s in for me?” He questioned making you scrunch your face, you didn’t thought about that. After all he is indeed helping you.

“I mean you might get laid from this plan, so what do I get in return?” He raised an eyebrow as you looked deep in thought. “Umm… Remember Clarissa from our sociology class? I will get you a date with her” You said hoping he would accept that deal, although convincing her was going to be rather hard.

“Im not really into her but she is hot so… deal” He said stretching his arm towards you. You giggled at the gesture you loved how he was always there for you.

“It’s a pleasure making business with you Lee Minho” You took his hand and shook it before both of you bursted out laughing.

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ 🎐 *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ 🎐 *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ 🎐 *ೃ

But sometimes things don’t always go as planned.

At least you never expected to see your best friend in between your legs as an outcome of this plan.

What started as a ‘How to turn on a man’ lesson end up in a rather heated…whatever situation this is.

It’s been around a month since Minho and you agreed to play this little “Lets make Hyunjin jealous” game. And to your surprise it worked perfectly. After days of Minho giving you the princess treatment during school hours, Hyunjin started getting a little annoyed and decided to ask you out on a date.

“So once he is in between your legs, he should leave wet pecks all over your thighs” His cold finger pads traveling along your burning skin, indicating where ‘Hyunjin’ should kiss you.

In this moment you aren’t sure if he still has Hyunjin in mind. At least you don’t.

You called him to visit your dorm because Hyunjin invited you to a date. And you being the virgin you are, you needed help to know what to do in a heated situation.

The night started normally, just two best friends gossiping and giggling about the situation in hand. He looked genuinely happy for you though he was feeling a little feisty today.

“Just cause he asked you out doesn’t mean he wants to kiss you” He said as he laid down on your bed, his face snuggling against your favorite plushy.

“Ouch” You said as you joined him in bed “But what if~” You trace shaking his body to get his attention. Then suddenly out of nowhere he unattached from your plushy and pushed you on the bed to pin you down. You did not see that coming.

“Then, welcome to ‘How to turn on a man 101” He teased as he moved away from you and stood up. You were about to stand up but he was quick to sit you down on the edge of the bed.

“Tsk Tsk Tsk” He moved his finger in a no manner “You will remain seated like the good student you are” He patted your head “Yes Professor Minho” You said in annoyance at his little game. “There you go, good girl” Those words shouldn’t have made you feel butterflies in your tummy.

“Ok so” He sat next to you “Lets pretend I’m Hyunjin, we are watching a movie” He began explaining the plot of the fictional situation.

“I’m gonna wrapped my arm around the back of your shoulder” He said as he did the action, pulling you closer to his body, making you stiff “Now don’t do that” He turned to look at you “If you stiffen your body he will think you don’t want that and will give you space” He explained “We are trying to get you laid not respected” He then stopped as he processed his words.

“I mean. I don’t want you to get disrespected, the moment he does something you don’t like you call me and I will beat hi-” You chuckle lightly “I get what you mean Minho” He smiled warmly “Good”

“So try to relax yourself” You do as he says gaining a satisfactory smile from him. “Now consider this as his move, in order for something to happen there should be a balance, show you interest” He looked at you waiting for you to do something.

“This is not going to work… Im too awkward- what am I supposed to do” You said frustrated, making him pinch the bridge of his nose.

“It has to be something smooth… maybe try grabbing my hand that’s on your shoulder and play with my fingers” You listen to him like an eager puppy that’s willing to learn few tricks to get a treat.

You do as he said, lightly touching his hands, your fingers intertwining with his as you opted to rest your head on his shoulder.

He looked at you with a bright smile “Look at my pupil” She patted your head “Such a fast learner” You giggle at the compliment, you always loved how he would always encourage you whenever you did something that was new to you.

After that, the hours seemed blurry, you can’t quite recall how he ended up in between your legs. It all started in an innocent way. How did we get here.

You are both fully clothed though the bulge in his grey sweatpants is hard to miss. You low-key regret wearing shorts, cause the way he was tracing his fingers in your legs shouldn’t be this delightful.

It felt like if someone was teasing you with a feather, it was taking you a lot of self determination to not react to his touch. Him on the other hand was shameless; he had no intentions to hide how much he was enjoying this, lust written in those chocolate eyes of him.

“Though” This was the first word you heard in a while, breaking the intoxicating tension in the silent room “I doubt he will enjoy this as much as I am right now” He moved to look directly into your eyes a teasing smug on his face.

You scoff “You pervert” You sat down to hit his shoulder, His laugh erupting in the room. “You asked for my help, I gave you a tiny preview of what could happen” You rolled your eyes.

“It’s too late, are you not sleeping over?” You remarked as he stood up to grab his jacket “Honey after this I’m afraid I can’t stay over” You knew what he meant, his erection was too obvious and probably painful as well.

You just hummed in understanding and walked him to the door. You were already beginning to regret this plan. As you closed the door you stood there for a couple seconds hoping he would knock and stay the night with you.

Yet it didn’t happen. You curse yourself for wanting something else to happen, he was your best friend he was just helping you for your date tomorrow. Though you wondered if he felt something… maybe a spark… something… anything.

You yeeted yourself to your bed, trying to drown the craving you had to feel his lips in yours or in any other part of your body. Taking a few deep breaths you were able to fall asleep. Oh the adventure that awaits you.

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ 🎐 *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ 🎐 *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ 🎐 *ೃ

“phewww” Minho whistled as you entered your bedroom, You were wearing a black dress that screamed slut me out. You found it quite odd that Hyunjin invited you to a party on your first date.

You would be lying if you say you weren’t expecting something more intimate, more romantic at least. But you won’t complain, parties are the perfect place to get laid and when your date is Hwang Hyunjin you won’t miss the chance.

“Look at you” Minho said as he stood up from your bed and made his way to you. You could feel his presence behind you as you tried to wear your necklace.

Both of you made eye contact through the mirror as he touched your hand for you to give him the necklace. While you grabbed your hair, he gently helped you put it in.

“I wonder who gave you such beautiful necklace” He teased making you laugh. He gifted it to you for your 19th Birthday a year ago and since then he always expects you to credit him every time you wore it. But can you blame him? It was a Swarovski necklace he bought with his hourly shift job when he was 20. Now that’s a friend to keep.

“At this point Im going to engrave a ‘Gifted by Minho’ on the necklace so everyone knows” You teased back making his chuckle.

“Are you ready for the party?” He said looking at you from the mirror, you nodded simply “Are you going too?” You questioned as you saw his outfit.

“Yeah, I’m trying to see if I get lucky and bring someone back to my dorm” He smirked making you snort in disgust “Too much info Minho!” You shook your head trying to erase the picture your brain created of him with someone else in bed.

“You imagined it didn’t you” Oh god how much you would love to erase that stupid smug off his face. “You are so annoying you know that?” He laughed “I wonder how many more times Im going to hear that from you” He tilted his head to look at you closer “Till I die” You said before going to get your phone which was ringing for the couple last minutes.

“It’s time for me to go” You announced as you re entered the room to get your purse “please-" He cut you off to finish your sentence “Lock the door when I leave, I know” He said with a soft tone and a smile.

You couldn’t help but reciprocate the smile “I will tell you all the deets later, bye!” You said closing the door to meet with your date, leaving Minho alone in your dorm.

“Of course you will” He said sitting down on your bed quietly. He would be lying if he said he is not excited for you, but deep down he wanted to be selfish and pull you back from Hyunjin.

When he accepted this plan he hoped some spark would light up on you and realize he likes you, however it never did and what pisses him off is that the plan worked just how you said it would.

How could you be so blind with his feelings? He sighed before standing up to leave your dorm, locking the door as you commanded.

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ 🎐 *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ 🎐 *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ 🎐 *ೃ

“Ummm Hyunjin…” You said uncomfortably, you been in this frat party for God knows how long. The beginning was perfect, you and Hyunjin had so much fun, even made out for a couple of minutes, however as the alcohol progressively started to take over his brain he began to lose interest in you.

“What?” He said, his tone sounding more aggressively than he wanted to “I’m sorry” He slurred “What’s wrong?” He asked again this time sounding more concerned “I umm I want to leave” You said softly a little ashamed that you are basically taking him out of the party.

“Ok bye” He pecked your lips before returning to talk to his friends, you tilted your head taken aback, you tapped his shoulder to get his attention again “You are not leaving with me?” You questioned him once he turned to look at you again “Pfft Fuck no” He said as his friends next to him began to laugh.

oh.

You needed some air.

You walked to the bathroom to get away from all that noise, you tried your best to swallow your tears. Everything was going so perfect… when did everything went down. Did he not like the way you kissed him? Maybe the dress was too much… makeup maybe?

You sighed as you made your way out of the bathroom, walking back to the spot you were with Hyunjin to get your purse. Even when the lights were dim and your vision was blurry you could see his figure kissing someone else, you were about to take another step when someone grabbed your waist and stopped you.

“I have your purse let’s go” Minho said worried “No.” You tried to escape his embrace to see it closely. Maybe your eyes were playing a trick on you. You needed to confirm it.

“Y/n” He said softly making you look up at him “Let’s go baby” He pouted making you sighed, swallowing your tears again. You couldn’t let anyone else see you cry.

The car ride was silent, Minho played few of your favorite songs to cheer you up, yet nothing could drown the embarrassment and humiliation you felt at that moment. He walked you to your apartment. He hoped to hear a word from you, yet it didn’t happen.

You were about to close the door without saying a single thanks, this pissed him off. He stopped you before you could close the door, it startled you by the loud bang of his hand against the door.

“I won’t let you go without even hearing a single word from you” He said looking intensely at you. That’s when you broke down, tears streaming down your face, your head down. “I- I thought he might be the one” You began crying. The alcohol in your system making you spill everything you been keeping.

“Im about to turn 21 next year and yet I have never ever dated anyone” You slurred, Minho didn’t know what to do exactly at that moment, he was taken aback by your sudden meltdown.

He stepped inside your dorm and closed the door behind him, locking it before helping you reach your bed. You sat down on your bed as you kept yapping about how you craved to be loved by someone special, Minho just looked at you as he stood in-front of you.

Cursing you in his head as he has been there this whole time dying to get a chance.

“Minho do you think Im pretty” You raised your head to look at him, your doe eyes shining like the stars. Minho looked at your face, your mascara ruined from your tears, and your plump lips formed in a pout. If he were to make you cry it would be for another reason, cause fuck. You looked hot in his eyes. He shook his head trying to erase that thought from his mind. Not the moment Minho. Maybe those shots got into his brain.

When you saw him shaking his head tears began to shred like there wasn’t a tomorrow, Minho panicked as he saw the way you misunderstood his actions. If only you knew what he was thinking about.

“I- No y/n” He crouched to be eye level with you “I didn’t mean that” He said with eyes filled with panic “Liar!” You hit his shoulder as you kept crying.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or your tears or maybe he was just too desperate, however never in a million years he thought he would be brave enough to kiss you.

He didn’t even notice he was kissing you until you accidentally moaned in his lips. He separated off you as quick as he was to kiss you.

“Shit y/n… I’m sorry- I had too many vodka sh-” This time he was the one to accidentally slip a moan as your lips crashed on his.

You flung your arms around his neck and you pulled him to the bed with you. They say love is a weird emotion, it surges from tiny actions and it vanishes when its not the right person. How does someone’s heart know who is the right one though?

That’s the funny part. It doesn’t. Love is like a russian roulette, it comes and goes, however with Minho, it was always there. It never vanished no matter how annoying he got at times. You just were too blind to accept your feelings. Maybe afraid of the rejection that could have come with confessing.

When humans are in love they rather live their lives filled with ‘what if’s’ than being rejected by those who their heart choose. That’s why people say Love is a coward emotion, because only those who are brave enough are capable of experiencing it.

“Y/n shit” He cursed as you involuntarily grinded on his crotch as he kissed you “I- I can’t do this, not when you are-” You stopped his sentence to peck his cheek “just the tip?” You said in an innocent voice.

And that’s how only three words could break down his moral of never fucking a drunk girl, specially you. He wanted the moment to be special but how could he resist when you were practically begging him.

Let this be a mistake he will regret in the morning. Cause fuck it he won’t hold back. “Just the tip” He grunted as he kissed your neck, his hands groping your ass and thighs.

He was about to slip his hand under your dress to touch your pussy when he remembered something important. At least to him. You were a virgin.

“Fuck I can’t do this” He sat up leaving you dumbfounded “Why?” You protested “You kissed me first so I thought you would” He was quick to stop your words “It’s not that… I do want you, Fuck I been dying for this the moment I met you, I have even daydreamed about fucking a child inside of you the moment I saw you in the child section at target” He started rambling nonsense he doesn’t even know where it was coming from.

His words sent a million butterflies rushing to your tummy, your legs pressing against each other “But…” You trace tilting your head waiting for him to continue “but… you are a virgin and I want you to be a hundred percent sure that you want me to be the one” You chuckle lightly.

“I am sure though” You said moving to sit on his lap and kiss his neck slowly “No… you are drunk” He said caving into your kisses. “I promise you that I only had 2 mimosas and that was hours ago” You said trying to convince him you were pretty much sober by now which was indeed true.

“What’s 8 x 8” Here it was the stupid mathematical questions he would always pull on you to see how coherent you were “64” You rolled your eyes “Square root of 12?” “144, c’mon give me something hard” You said annoyed waiting for him to believe you.

“You are sitting on it” It took you a moment to process what he meant, your cheeks flushing as you felt it. You hit his shoulder and hid your face with your hands “You are so annoying y-” “I know that” He teased as he grabbed you to lay you down on the bed, his body pinning yours.

His smirk sends tremors through your knees. "You wanna know a secret...?" You hold your breath as he leers closer, allowing you to better see the lust flickering through his umber eyes. "I been holding back to just bend you down ever since we started this little plan, I hope you turn into little slut for my cock..."

Holy shit. Who would say you would hear those words coming out of his mouth.

The wave of wetness that pools between your thighs immediately soaks your underwear. It takes every bit of your lingering self control to not grind your best friend's crotch like a horny rabbit.

Even so, you find it more and more difficult to repress your dirty desires as Minho trails his hands up your legs, pausing to lift and wrap your knee around his hips. So this is what heaven feels like. You nearly moan as you feel his erection pushing against your pelvis.

"Oh fuck—" Your brain completely short circuits, unable to stop your desperate moans. Yours and his moans bleed into one another as your clothed cores come into contact. Minho's fingers tighten on your leg-just shy of bruising.

“Please just the tip” You begged as you seek to make eye contact with him.

You wonder if he can feel the extent of your wetness against the front of his jeans, but all thoughts are chased away when he dragged his finger on top of your swelling folds.

"Fucking hell" He hisses, his hand beside your head tightening into a fist- "You are so wet for me… it feels like dream” You chuckle at him, too drunk on the sensation.

“I'm not gonna I-last if you are this wet for me..." His words only motivate your intentions, thrusting your hips into his fingers, desperate to feel his. Seeking more leverage, you wind your arms around his waist and tug him even closer against your body. His face seeks refuge in the crook of your neck as you continue, further fueled by the hot breathe caressing your collarbones.

"Fine. I’ll give you what you want” He said breathlessly as he sat to take his pants off and raised your dress enough to let him see your wet panties. He wanted to let you keep some modesty and you were grateful for that.

You silently agree with your companion to keep your top clothes on, gasping loudly when his tip tap on your cunt. He moved it up and down your arousal to wet him a little bit. You both breathed heavily at the sensation. Just the tip. Just the tip. He kept remind himself as his tip slowly made his way inside your cunt.

He made sure to go as slow as possible to not make you uncomfortable, he wished you would have let him eat you out before stretching you, but Mrs little impatient didn’t let him.

The way your warm cunt clenched on his tip was making it hard to focus on the task in hand, which was not enter you fully. But how could he restrain himself when your hand is playing with clit in front of him. It was like you were taunting him. Speak of the devil cause you might be the temptation in person.

And oh god you were indeed the devil cause if it wasn’t for the way you desperately asked him for more he would’ve just done the tip. However someone was greedy and the next time he knew he was fully inside you trusting his cock deep inside you.

The lewd sounds embraced the room, the sloppy sound of your arousal and the thump of his pelvis hitting yours turning both of you even more.

His lips never left your body, he was either leaving love bites in your chest or kissing your mouth like it was your last day.

Although everything felt so sudden, it felt right. The passion the lust everything. It felt like the best timing.

It wasn’t until his kisses got sloppier that you knew he was close to cum, you grabbed his hair and squeezed it tightly as he switched your position, placing couple pillows under you so he could have better access to your cunt.

If you thought he couldn’t go any deeper you were wrong. His dick rubbing that spot that’s been getting teased for a while now. He pressed his hand on your stomach just so he could see how deep his dick was inside you. And oh lord that drove him to the edge. You both cling to one another as your climaxes approach one after another.

Minho's guttural groan triggered a release that spills white-hot bliss through your veins. You can feel your cunt pulsating as you fight to catch your breath. It's not until post nut clarity hits you that you realize what was going on.

"Did we just?” You asked embarrassed as the man cling into you hummed happily, his hot breath hitting your neck.

"You were the one begging for it you better not regret it" He teased as he hugged you even more tightly, if this was a dream he hoped he would never wake up.

You shove Minho with a newfound adrenaline, staring at his confused expression “You are annoying. I really hope you know that.” He began to frantically laugh as he pecked your lips “And you love that charm of mine, I know that”

The rest of the night was spent in kisses and chuckles, until you both finally drifted into a slumber sleep. This whole plan was a mistake you will never regret.

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ 🎐 *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ 🎐 *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ 🎐 *ೃ

A/N: Sorry I made Hyunjin the bad guy, this character indeed does not fit his personality but as always remember that my fics never correlate to any of the idols real image, its all pure fiction. Also I didn’t proofread this, as I rushed to finish it on a school night, let me know of there’s any typos. Hope y’all enjoy! <;3

[sinimake]

Opposites-Attract headcanons of Johnshi

I love putting opposing traits to my ships more than anything so enjoy!

Kenshi is pretty low maintenance. All he needs is clothes on his back and Sento, that's it. Probably can survive zombie apocalypse on his own while Johnny must have his grooming essentials with 10-step skin routine, a cup of coffee with the exact milk-sugar ratio at 9am sharp in the morning or he will DIE

Johnny is glued to his phone, always taking pics and documenting things while Kenshi doesn't even know where the fuck is his phone half the time

Also Johnny is texter and Kenshi is caller/voice message sender

When Kenshi is angry, he blazes like fire. One look at him and you know he's fucking pissed. While Johnny is silent rager. He will appear fine and brush off things convincingly good with his acting skills till he snaps. Like ocean pulling back its tides just to slam whole ass tsunami upon its victims.

They're both ambiverts but different flavors of ambiverts. Johnny makes friends with everyone, always chats and charms. He somehow knows the lifestories of people he met even briefly. However Johnny gets overwhelmed a lot that he needs his down time or he will start becoming murderous. Kenshi, on the other hand, rather die than make a small talk but he is a natural leader who can read people very well.

Johnny is chronically online and Kenshi is deliberately internet illiterate

People think Johnny is the rulebreaker while Kenshi's the voice of reason but they get it so wrong. Johnny is all about being pompous and mischievous but when the shit starts becoming serious and so much real, he panics. Kenshi though? He will charge head first into a trouble swinging and crackling. He didn't want to break the rules, but if it must, Kenshi will twist that notch to extreme.

Johnny is a picky eater and Kenshi will eat anything. That's why Johnny cooks almost all the time bc their criterias for "food" are vastly different.

Johnny exists in the public eye. He thrives in people's love and attention while Kenshi is shunned and feared for his past in the crime organization.

Kenshi is paranoid while Johnny is bit too confident sometimes

Johnny thrives on routine and schedule since he's a busy celebrity, he plans ahead and sticks to it. On the other hand, Kenshi just goes along with wherever the wind takes him.

However, when it comes to training, Kenshi is all about going by the book. Breathing exercises, meditation, stances, katas, footwork, practices, and everything, he follows them through to build up discipline. But Johnny? He just wings it bc it's all natural talent, baby! If you ask him how he does some moves, he will just shrug and say "it feels right that way"

Their fighting styles differ, too. Johnny is light on feet, flexible, fast, and slips through guards like a shadow. Kenshi is grounded, steady, tough, and even his blade swings are focused on elbow movements than in wrists.

Adding on the previous point, Johnny's name is a reverse pun of Kage, which means "shadow" in Japanese. On the other hand, Sento's powers are represented through glowing lights, hence creating the opposite elements of Light and Shadow in Johnshi

[another-lost-mc]

Omg hear me out

OlderStepBrother!Levi x YoungerStepSister reader

He's so protective over you, after all, nobody's good enough for his little sister except for him<3

a/n: oh, he'd be so creepy.

➤ older step-brother!levi | headcanons

1.4k words | nsfw | gn!reader | dark content

cw: step!cest. reader is late teens/early 20s and levi is mid-late 20s. modern au; implied cyber-stalking/surveillance; cursing; ambiguous ending.

Older Step-Brother!Levi, who's completely uninterested in getting to know you. So what if your parents got hitched? It's not any of his business. He hasn't even met you yet, but the more he hears about you, the more annoyed he is for reasons he doesn’t understand. He doesn't care about what university you're going to, or what your grades are, or that you like "the same cartoons and games" he does. He's not going out of his way just to meet you. It's not even worth his time to look you up online. He couldn't care less.

Older Step-Brother!Levi, who you only know vague details about before you meet him for the first time. You don't understand what he does exactly, only that he's good with computers and works freelance and somehow affords his own house in an expensive neighbourhood a few hours away. He might be older than you, but not that much older. Your stomach does somersaults when you think about meeting him because he's new and unfamiliar. Still, you’re cautiously optimistic that maybe if you get along, you can be friends.

Older Step-Brother!Levi, who finally meets you when you go home for the first reading week of the semester. He ran out of excuses to avoid attending a pointless family gathering, and he's just desperate to get his old man off his back about being a recluse. He has his game plan ready: after playing nice for a couple of days, he'll go back home and pretend you don't exist.

Older Step-Brother!Levi, who slowly realizes that maybe you have more in common than he realized. You're not some airhead or annoying social butterfly soaking in the riches of his father's fortune. You mumble your name and glance at him shyly from under your lashes and shuffle on the balls of your feet like you're too nervous to stand still. Levi feels self-conscious too because you point out the anime figure keychain dangling from his car keys and the cute vinyl stickers he decorated his car with. He assumes you're going to tease him, but you chatter on excitedly about how they're some of your favourite characters too. He hesitantly takes the second controller when you invite him to play games in your room, and you're mediocre at best. (It's still endearing when you cheer not because you won the race, but because you avoided driving off the rainbow track.) You might not be hardcore like him, but there's something almost cute about your enthusiasm. Why is your awkward laughter so contagious?

"Why did you choose this room?" he asked between races. Your bedroom isn't tiny by any means, but he knows his old room has nearly twice the amount of space. "I figured you would've cleared out my room, it's a lot bigger." You scratched the back of your neck and shrugged, eyes focused on the TV to avoid his scrutiny. "It didn't feel right going into your room and clearing out the rest of your belongings like that. It's still yours, even if you don't live here anymore." You tapped the gamepad and waited for him to select his character for the next match. "Want to keep playing?" He snapped his head away from your face and looked at the screen, choosing a character at random while he resisted the urge to cover his face in embarrassment. His cheeks burned hot. "Y-yeah, sure we can," he muttered nervously, cringing when his voice cracked.

Older Step-Brother!Levi, who finds himself wanting to spend more and more time with you. His plan to leave after a day or two at most is officially scrapped. How can he leave so soon when you still have ten episodes of the latest season to watch together? There's a bowl of popcorn on the couch between you and when it's empty, he jingles his keys and drives you both to a late-night boba tea shop. The old folks are in bed for the night—they won't even notice you're gone.

"C'mon, you haven't finished watching it yet? But the last season is the best one!" You rub your arm awkwardly in the passenger seat beside him. "I started watching it with my ex but we—well, we broke up on bad terms and I guess it reminds me of them when I try to watch it now." You miss the curious glance when you stare out the window and you don’t elaborate further. He can only imagine the worst even though it doesn’t make sense—you're cute and sweet and who the hell would be stupid enough to ruin something so good? Your shoulders shake and you breathe out a stuttered sigh, and something venomous hardens his expression into something cold, like steel. He’s tempted to ask for your ex's name but decides not to—he suspects it’ll be easy enough to find once he gets back on his computer. He clears his throat to break the awkward silence. "Well, if you wanna try watching it again, maybe we can re-watch the whole series together?" It only takes a second for the hand resting on the gear shift to squeeze your knee gently and return to where it was. He stares at the dark road ahead even though he knows you're looking at him now. "Don't let ungrateful assholes ruin good things for you. You’ve got me now, okay?”

Older Step-Brother!Levi, who is determined to keep in touch when that short week together comes to an end. He already has blank social media accounts he uses to follow his favourite game developers and anime blogs, but now he has a new reason to use them. Once you realize it's him, you accept all his friend requests without hesitation. He even creates accounts for apps he doesn't even use so that he can see all the photos and videos you upload to your private account. He scrutinizes all your old posts and takes screenshots of the photos of you that turn him on he likes most. You don't post a lot of selfies, but he sees glimpses of your daily life: the café near campus you like, your room in the house you rent with some other classmates. Sometimes you post things that remind you of him now too, and even though you don't mention him by name or tag him, he knows who you're thinking about.

Older Step-Brother!Levi, who is surprisingly thoughtful. Sometimes he comments on your social media posts directly, but most of the time he texts you instead. You have disjointed conversations throughout the day and it becomes habit for both of you. He asks how school is going and how your roommates are treating you. You ask him about his job because you're still not sure what a freelance cybersecurity expert does. He gets flustered when you ask him if he's dating anyone and you don't bring up the subject again. Maybe he's just shy?

Player Two: ugh.

LEV14TH4N: what's wrong?

Player Two: are you sure i'm not bothering you? you must be so busy with work...

LEV14TH4N: pfft. you're not bothering me at all. i'd rather talk to you than these idiots i have to work with.

Older Step-Brother!Levi, who claims he has more money than he knows what to do with when he starts sending you little gifts. He asks for a link to your online wish list and has everything delivered express: the latest manga volume he knows you're excited to read; a pre-order for a game that's coming out soon; your favourite snacks. He also sends you an expensive housecoat when you mention off-handedly that yours is getting a little threadbare and you need to buy a new one soon. It's from a high-end boutique you've never heard of but sounds expensive. The robe is made from the softest plush material and it's so warm; it's a bluey-purple colour that reminds you a bit of his eyes. All he asks for in return is a picture once you've tried it on—to make sure that it's the right size, of course.

LEV14TH4N: you look

LEV14TH4N: sorry. it looks nice on you. i'm glad you like it.

Older Step-Brother!Levi, who never seems to sleep. He offers to skim your assignments just before the midnight submission deadline. Later, he reminds you that it's no trouble at all—he was still awake so no need to feel bad! Sometimes when you can't sleep, you scroll through your social media feed and hope the boredom will cure your insomnia, until a familiar name pops up on your screen.

LEV14TH4N: you have class in a few hours, can't sleep?

(He jokes that he just had a feeling you were still up, and you're too sleepy and flattered by his concern to question him further.)

Older Step-Brother!Levi, who makes plans on weekends to come see you at school when he thinks you could use a break. He makes the drive to town—a couple hours away from where he lives—and you spend the day at the mall, or visiting your favourite lunch or dinner spots. You invite him inside to meet your roommates and he looks around your room curiously. You seem happy here, and he's glad.

(You seem happiest with him, and that makes him feel even better.)

Older Step-Brother!Levi, who can't wait to see you on your next school break.

LEV14TH4N: the old folks are going on vacation this winter.

LEV14TH4N: but you can stay here if you want. there's lots of room and it beats spending the holidays stuck on campus by yourself.

Player Two: really? you don't mind?

LEV14TH4N: of course not.

LEV14TH4N: i'm looking forward to it.

[aestherin]

KEEP MY HEART

goal 09: do you like sweets?

You are fully self-aware that you have delusional tendencies, but you know yourself well enough to think that you weren't that far gone yet to the point that you will start seeing your long distance crush right in front of you.

He's probably real.

Taking notice of your presence, Scaramouche then turned towards you. His face was hard to read, other hand holding his phone and the other inside the pockets of his denim pants. His oversized black shirt was tucked, highlighting his good figure.

'Holy. He's got good style too,' you thought. It was simple, yes. But he carries outfits so damn well.

But what is he even doing here in your uni?

Since an eye contact has already been made, you flashed a sheepish smile and a light wave. Your loud personality online was such a huge contrast in comparison to how you're actually behaving now.

He just stared. 'Oh. So he's the cold type. God, he's exactly my type.'

"Aren't you going in?" You snapped out of your musings upon hearing his voice.

"I was about to. I'm starving," you chuckled. He scoffed. "I could use a bit of food, too."

"We should eat at the birthday party then."

"Kazuha's?"

You nod.

He looked away. "Go and eat inside. I'll find another place to eat at."

You flashed a look of disbelief. Scaramouche raised a brow in confusion. "Dude, you're literally already at a restaurant and you still want to go somewhere else to eat?"

"And you're hungry, aren't you?"

He sighed. "Look, I don't know if you know this, but the one holding a party — well, we're not on the best of terms."

Oh. Yeah.

There's that thing.

How the fuck could you forget that the love of your life is from the rival of your brother's team?

"Ah," You nod again. He seemed to take it as you understanding his reasoning and turned the other way, attempting to head off.

If only you hadn't tugged at his shirt.

"What the?!"

You led him to a lone bench at the parking lot, lit warmly by the streetlight just directly above it. "Sit there and wait for me."

"Excuse me?" He hissed. "What am I? A dog?"

"Your words, not mine." You grinned. "Just do as I say, okay? It won't be long, I promise."

He was about to retort but you cut him off by hurriedly entering the lively restaurant.

When you got back, you easily spotted Scaramouche who was sitting comfortably on the bench where you left him. He immediately scooted over once he saw you.

"Wow," he remarked. "You know I actually doubted if you would even come back."

You chuckled as you sat and handed him his plate. "Do you have trust issues?"

"Shut the fuck up."

"Oh, so you do."

He rolled his eyes.

Your late dinner with him was mostly filled with a comforting silence, with some bits of small talk in between. The only ones left on your plate were delectable desserts, as well as the little pieces of food you left out.

"Do you like sweets?"

"No," Scaramouche speedily replied. "They're disgusting."

You subconsciously frown. "Shame. I like them."

"You can have mine then," he says as he picks up his portion of desserts and transfers them to your plate. Unbeknownst to you, his observant gaze failed to miss how your eyes sparkled in delight at the sight of mouthwatering sweets.

As he did so, Scaramouche also spotted some leftovers on your plate. "Do you not like bitter stuff?"

"My tongue can't handle them."

"Give it to me then instead of wasting food, idiot."

You let out a laugh. "Is that your way of saying you like bitter stuff?"

The man just let out a quiet "tch" before taking a bite.

KEEP MY HEART — scara x reader smau

previous . masterlist . next

SUMMARY —you find plenty of guys around you attractive, but there is only one you’re willing to make the first move on: the guy you first saw during your older brother’s soccer game. spoiler: he's a player from your rival university.

NOTES -> a lot has happened lmaoo i was so busy aaa -> i graduated hs finally :P -> i also submitted my requirements for college haha -> also can u guys believe i'm gonna be in college while my college smau is on going omg -> and apologies for ghosting HASDHADHA (also wtf fontaine livestream tomorrow already whaaat time flies so fast omg)

TAGLIST I (closed)

@lady-elodie @krnzysh @syriiina @unsterblich-prinz @xiaosonlybeloved @xiaomainlmao @cindywasneverhere @coquettemaiden @sunsethw4 @lunavixia @calickoh @arealistonao3 @lowkeyivorie @zyilas @mondaymelon @yukiipc @heartswonder @st0pthatsgay @ozzierenato @astreaa-express @shewolfmiko @lovelyycherries @myaaones @countessqin @aloveablechaos @letthewindlead @lunaavity @local-blueberry-boy @luminestars @layla240 @useless-potatho @atlaszi @alatusorrow @lahsram2201 @sakiimeo @user11918163805279 @vqazx @neigesprincess @kunicrush @yoursockstinks @hotgirlshit5 @mikctp @crucnhice @apotatouwu @yuaenri @sammybeefangirls @miko1ly @deffenferofjustice @etherisy @sagegreenthinks

[whyse7vn]

SEVEN -

[ ot7 x reader ]

sevendaysafreak

8 participants - 8 online

———————————

tae: we are watching jungkook slowly become alpha

namjoon: can you be normal today

jk: do you really mean that bro…

tae: with all my heart..

oh my god i’m tearing up

this is what being a real man is about

jimin: begging for pussy??

jk: I DID NOT BEG??

hobi: you harassed that poor woman for a whole week

yoongi: all for a hand hold

y/n: crazy!

tae: okay??

but it was literally real as fuck so does it matter??

jimin: it was real fucking sad

jin: personally if i was her i would of called the police like sexual harassment hello???

yoongi: right

namjoon: it was a great song jungkook

jk: > //// <

i’m blushing

that was me blushing

and i giggled a little

smiling rn

hehehehehe

namjoon: a thank you would of done it

jk: thank u >.<

jimin: she should of punched him

jin: was there need for an explicit version like??

we got the point the first time

i didn’t need to hear how horny you were for a second time

hobi: he just wanted to swear

tae: no he’s just real as fuck you wouldn’t get it

jk: real as fuck

yoongi: ig it was real as fuck for jungkook

he begs for pussy on a daily

jk: proof?

hobi: by bts

y/n: i’ll leak our dms

jk: DON’T DON’T DON’T

i’m sowyy 😣

jimin: i’m gonna punch him

hobi: fucking seven days a week doesn’t seem right

is that not how you get an std?

jk: no?

yoongi: is that not when you fuck multiple people?

y/n: you fuck multiple people jk?

jk: NO?????

jimin: why is ur no a question

hobi: suspicious

jin: jungkook has crabs

tae: that’s a real man disease

y/n: that’s gross

jk: i’m real

jimin: real itchy

namjoon: can we not talk about stds pls

y/n: i bet jay park has a couple of those

jk: ???

jimin: REALLLL

jin: that’s why him and jk are friends bonded over the burn

jk: i’m not his friend anymore

y/n: character development okay!!!

yoongi: was that bcs he stole from you?

jk: stop talking to me rn

jimin: OMG GUYS

yk i had the worst dream ever yesterday tae was in it

tae: and?

jimin: wdym and

tae: i hope you die

namjoon: pls don’t wish death upon people tae

jimin: yeah tae

tae: all of you can fucking die idc!!!

not jungkook tho he real as fuck

y/n: say real as fuck one more time and i’ll snap ur neck

jin: hot asf

yoongi: ew?

tae: nobody wants to see us winning jk it’s sad 😞

jk: i’m sobbing 💔💔😞😞💔💔

tae: they literally told us to kill ourselves

namjoon: literally no one said that

jimin: in fact YOU said you hope i die

jk: he could of meant by natural causes

tae: right i would never tell you to kill ur self that’s sick and evil

yoongi: kys

tae: ur not going to heaven

yoongi: aw man 🙁

hobi: what if we put tae in the electric chair

jin: what if we put tae and jungkook in the electric chair

jk: wtf ☹️

tae: i could easily survive the electric chair it would feel good to me actually

y/n: i’ve been telling you guys for years we need to lock them up

do you actually read the bullshit they say on a daily it’s actually insane they need help

like professional help

jk: i didn’t even say anything

jimin: you don’t need to

we just know

namjoon: i agree

we could send them to a camp

or something

tae: why are you talking about us like we’re not RIGHT here

jungkook get them omg

jk: i can’t go to camp

too much raw air exposure is bad for my skin

and i have a dentist appointment soon

yoongi: raw air?

jin: how soon is ur appointment?

jk: so soon that i can’t go to camp

tae: JUNGKOOK STAND UR GROUND

WE WILL NOT BE PUSHED AROUND

REPEAT AFTER ME

WE WILL NOT BE PUSHED AROUND

namjoon: tae shut up

y/n: right

tae: i liked it better when you guys just ignored me in this gc

now all you do is be mean

jimin: maybe u deserve it

*you definitely deserve it

hobi: stop talking then idk

yoongi: i will gladly ignore you again

jk: i love you tae i’ll listen to you talk

jin: jungkook the biggest dick rider ever

tae: he’s my little dick rider 🥰😍❤️

hobi: yeah definitely stop talking

namjoon: okay!

y/n: oh my god

jimin: ???

yoongi: um

jin: this is what seven was really about

jk: bro..

tae: lol

jimin: you're really gorgeous i would deadass fight 3 mountain lions in a mcdonald's handicap bathroom stall with my hands tied behind my back and my only weapon is a shake weight glued to my forehead just to get a chance to get to know you and take u out tbh

jin: nurse he’s out again

jimin: wrong chat lol

tae: and you wanna put ME in the electric chair

ur all out of ur minds

namjoon: you were gonna send that to someone????

jimin: is it bad?

y/n: so unbelievably bad

jk: blushing

yoongi: wow

tae: yikes

hobi: bts never beating the rizzless allegations

y/n: who were you gonna send that too?

jk: was it me?

yoongi: that was flirting?

jin: probably the notes app

jimin: no one

jin: told you

notes app.

jk: it wasn’t me?

tae: i’ll be nice and give you some better lines jimin dw

jimin: the only lines you have are of coke

tae: nvm fuck you stay bitchless

namjoon: leave jimin alone

jimin: right leave me alone

namjoon: he’ll open up in his own time

jimin: i fucking won’t

you guys deserve to know NOTHING about me

yoongi: okay don’t care kys

jimin: i have a crush

jin: i’m hungry

hobi: is this the same crush you talked about like 4 weeks ago??

jk: on me?

sorry jimin i’m already in love with someone else

yoongi: didn’t ask

jk: i won’t tell you who it is it’s a secret

namjoon: a secret from who??

jk: what does that mean…

namjoon: don’t we all know…

jin: i SAID i’m hungry

jimin: all you do is eat like omg??

get a job or something??????

jin: i have a job

i serve face for a living i would suggest you look into it since you have so much free time to BULLY and HARASS others but with a face like urs idk if you’ll make the cut

y/n: wow

jimin: i’m not reading all that 💀

y/n: never use that emoji again ew

jimin: 💀💀💀💀💀

y/n: this is why whoever ur trying to rizz up probably thinks ur a loser

yoongi: is it taemin again?

tae: ew you run back to taemin every 4 months it’s kinda embarrassing

jimin: taehyung you actually need to shut ur mouth

breathing the same air as you is embarrassing

and at least i have someone to run back to you are actually genuinely bitchless

tae: u are taemin’s bitch

so technically ur as bitchless

yoongi: gay

jk: don’t be a homocrome

namjoon: stop talking

jimin: it’s not even taemin so shut the hell up

i’m not talking about this anymore

moving on

hobi: what is your mbti guys

jk: physical touch

namjoon: that wasn’t the question

y/n: just say ur horny and go omg

jin: don’t

seven was actually enough

i will hear NO more about jungkooks sex life

everything i have learnt has been without my consent

my lawyers will be in touch

jk: my lawyers are ur lawyers

jin: not anymore

jk: omg…

hobi: oh my oh my god

namjoon: jin stop facetiming me i’m not answering

jin: pls joon pleaseeeeeeeeeeeee

namjoon: i’m not sitting there for you to look at urself in the camera for an hour

i have things to do

jimin: that sounds like very jobless behaviour to me tbh

jin: you can��t be ugly and jealous pls pick a struggle

tae: and rizzless

hobi: i know ur not talking…

tae: ????

hobi: tae i need you to do some self reflection

tae: okay?

i’m hot as fuck

cool as fuck

and real as fuck

i feel well reflected ty for suggesting that hoseok

y/n: i told you i’m gonna snap ur neck if you said that again

start running

jin: coming to watch 🥰

[angel-of-the-moons]

A Rose Under the Moon

Moon Knight System (Marc/Steven/Jake) x Fem!Reader

CW/TW: None (sorta?), Mentions of phantom pains, loneliness

A/N: This is gonna be multi-fic. I'll probably be irregular with uploads, but I will try to update this when I can!

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

Chapter 1:

The Scholar

Fate was a funny thing. Sometimes it could give you exactly what you wanted, other times… the exact opposite. 

The same was true for soulmates. Everybody had a different way of being marked. Some, from birth, others later. You’ve had yours since the moment you came out of your mother’s womb.

Right there, on the inside of your left wrist.

Three crescent moons, the slope of each resting on the others. Sometimes, one of the moons was full. It rotated almost like a clock. Sometimes one would stay full for days, other times merely one day or just a few hours. You weren’t sure why. You were positive it had something to do with your soulmate. 

Especially the random phantom pains and bruises on different spots of your body. You used to get them as a child, one minute you’d be playing on the playground and then it would feel like you’d been whipped with a belt, or hit with a stick. At first children services had been called because of your phantom bruising; until they observed one such situation where you were coloring a picture and a red mark suddenly made itself visible, along with the pain associated with it. That was when the doctor suggested those pains were indeed connected to whatever was happening to your soulmate.

What kind of torture were they going through? The thought constantly ate at you as you grew up.

The worst ones were when you were at the stove cooking one day and all of a sudden–wham!--you were doubled over in your kitchen, clutching your body as you felt like you were being impaled by an ice pick in different parts of your chest and midsection.

But every time you got those pains, there was a pulse from your marking. And then… nothing. You heard that some people got phantom pains from their soulmates, some could share a telepathic link… others could simply sense when they were in proximity. The connections all varied from mate to mate; as did the appearance of each mark.

Yours, was the crescent moons. Some had animal shapes, others had stars, sometimes even just initials of their destined partner’s names, or a type of compass pointing in their general direction. Others, you came to envy, had a timer. Like a digital stopwatch that would count down until the day they met. You really wish you had one of those. At least then you’d know...

Some lucky people found their soulmates fresh into adulthood, right out of high school. The even luckier ones happened upon theirs during childhood and stayed close.

Here you were, sitting at nearly 25, and hadn’t even felt a tickle that possibly told you your soulmate was nearby. Even when you hopped countries! You really envied your classmates who got married shortly after high school or fresh into college, right about now… 

You hoped and prayed to whoever would listen–anybody–that you would find them soon; not when you were old and gray and couldn’t run on the beach, climb a tree, or go do… something with such little precious time left over. You waited every day, on bated breath for when your soulmate would swoop in and save you from your boring, monotonous life.

Unless you were rejected. You’d never personally met anybody who had been rejected, but you have read in online forums from people who *have* been rejected, or personally knew someone who had been. Their existences sounded horrible. Gray, bleak… they weren’t truly living, just… existing. Like a robot running on default mode.

Some found love outside their soulmate bonds, and married and lived happily enough. Those were the ones who didn’t actively look for their soulmates, couldn’t find their soulmates… or their soulmates died before they met.

The pain felt from a sudden snap of your bond was supposed to be the most debilitating pain in your life, your soul feeling like half of it was shredded, stomped on, and then set on fire before being snuffed out entirely. It was supposedly easier to bear if you and your soulmate have never met.

Which is why, after you recovered that day in your kitchen, you frantically checked your mark to see if it was still there. Thankfully, it was. But you cursed your soulmate–whoever she, he, or they were–for doing whatever crazy shenanigans it was that they were doing to get hurt in such a way. 

But despite that… despite the waiting and the longing and the phantom pains; the aching feeling in your chest, you stopped checking your mark as religiously as you used to. Sometimes, you covered it entirely, a depressing melancholy feeling taking root in your stomach and growing until its branches reached your heart whenever you looked at it. It wasn’t entirely uncommon, the feelings you were harboring. The desperation for your other half, the need to feel completed–to feel whole–was felt by millions worldwide… maybe even farther than that. 

Some suggested therapy. It was a common enough occurrence that there was a specialization in the psychiatric field for soulmates who felt the depression and loneliness of not having their soul’s other half with them. 

Malattia dell'anima, the doctor-y name for it was. Soul Sickness; literally.

But you didn’t want to be doped up on medication that made you so numb to your feelings that you might not–on the small chance you would–be able to feel when you eventually met your soulmate.

If you ever did.

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You sighed as you leaned on the counter, scrolling through forums, social media posts, and memes on your phone. Your mark was covered with a braided bracelet you made on a whim four months ago. Sometimes… not looking at it made it easier to bear.

You were knocked out of your melancholic stupor when the bell to your little book shop dinged. 

You straightened your posture and gave the most polite smile you could. 

“Hi!” You said. “Welcome to Here Today Books!”

The man who entered, gave you a charming–but slightly sheepish–smile, his amber eyes lighting up from behind his dark-rimmed glasses. “Oh! Hello.” He replied, his accent that you’ve grown accustomed to since moving to London, and gave a small wave of his hand. He was dressed in a button up shirt with some kind of gray overcoat worn over it, and some faded jeans. His posture was slightly nervous, you felt. He must be an introvert.

“You looking for anything in particular?” You chirp, leaning on the checkout counter with your elbows. “We got history, mathematics, sci-fi… romance?”

The last part was accentuated by a hearty chuckle on your part with some accompanied eyebrow-waggling, earning what you could swear was a blush on the man’s cheeks. “Oh–uhm…” He said. “N-no romance, I’m ‘fraid. Uh…” 

You tilt your head at him. “Oh! Well, whatever you’re looking for I’m sure I have *something* on the subject.” You click your tongue as you look at the different shelves stacked high to the ceiling, a rolling ladder tucked in the far corner. “My shop has a “try before you buy” kinda policy. You can pick up a book and read it in one of the nooks near the front windows. I also have a complimentary tea, and coffee menu. The snacks are priced however, because I make ‘em fresh to order in the upstairs kitchen.” 

He seemed impressed that such a tiny shop had such a wide variety of options available in the cramped space. “You cook upstairs?” He asked curiously, tilting his head so one of his raven curls bounces over his forehead.

“Yes, I, uhm… kind of live in the flat upstairs. Easier than renting separately, y’know?” You chuckle awkwardly. “I figured offering snacks and drinks would help entice people in. If not to buy a book, but at least a muffin or crepe.” 

“So you also use your flat as a business space?”

“In a sense, I suppose I do.” You chuckled again, this time with a bit more confidence.

“Um… Forgive me if this is rude, but umm…” He shuffled on his feet, awkwardly looking to the side. “Are you American? It’s just that, with your accent and everything…”

You giggle softly. “It’s alright. I don’t mind. Yes, I’m from America.” 

“Oh! That’s interesting. How does someone from America come to own a little book shop in London of all places? Er, if you’re comfortable with answering that question, too, I mean, uh…” 

You smile at him, flashing your teeth a bit. “Nah, it’s a valid question. I inherited this shop from… get this… my great aunt. Real storybook, right? Totally pun-derful. An absolute tale.”

He shakes his head, laughing a little. “That certainly does seem like the opening plotline to a story, doesn’t it? Flying across the pond to inherit a property from an estranged relative you hardly knew…”

“...trying to keep the business thriving in a rapidly obsolete medium, the protagonist is crafty, plucky, but optimistic as they try to stay afloat by themselves, to keep their relative’s memory alive?” You finish for him, your smirk turning into a full-blown grin.

His laugh is a little bit louder now. “Exactly! You could write a novel!”

“Oh, but it would be so boring!” You sigh, dramatically laying over the counter space, arms hanging over the edge. “Just sitting here, day in, day out as I sell children’s books, crappy western romances, cheap “gourmet” coffee, and some slightly burned muffins? Just looking at cat pictures on the internet as the ceiling fan squeaks in ambience?”

“Oh, well, uh, when you put it that way…”

You giggle again. “I get some pretty decent business. I get the students from uni, some bookworms who refuse to retire the medium of actual books made of actual paper…”

“Oh, I know! I don’t get how people can read on their phones! The blue light is atrocious to stare at for too long! I love the feel of paper underneath my fingertips, the smell of the ink…” He sighs almost wistfully.

“Precisely!” You say animatedly, snapping your fingers. “Phones, laptops, and tablets just aren't the same, y’know? There will always be book enthusiasts. A book doesn’t run on batteries, a book won’t shatter if you drop it, or grip too hard… All you need is a good set of eyes or readers, some good light… and you’re set.”

“Oh, exactly! That’s exactly what I tell Marc when he lectures me about owning too many books! My collection “is a hazard” he tells me. Just because I have a few stacks lying ‘round doesn’t mean they’re gonna collapse on you and kill you!” He sighs, throwing his hands up exasperatedly. He clears his throat, and says awkwardly. “Marc is, uh… He’s my… brother. We… live together?”

“Well, tell your brother that he is a heathen. That books are an absolute treasure! You don’t have to pay some dumb subscription to access all the knowledge in that one book, just pick it up and flip a page!” You scoff, waving a hand. “Books–while yes, they can take up some space–are wonderful. And you can never own too many!”

The man laughs, nodding. “Precisely. Marc just likes to complain because he’s always bumbling into them! He’s more of a TV kinda bloke, you know?”

“Oh, yeah, I’ve met my fair share of those kinds of people.” You giggle. 

“Oh, uhm.” He fumbles with his satchel bag and holds out his hand. “My name’s Steven. Steven… Steven Grant. It’s nice to meet you, Miss..?” 

You chuckle and tell him your name. 

“It’s nice to meet you Steven, Steven, Steven Grant!” You joke, earning another laugh as you shake his hand.

“Now,” You started. “What are you looking for today?” 

“Oh! Do you have any books on, uhm. Egypt? Ancient Egypt? Archaeology, mythology, things of that like…”

“Actually, I think we do. I keep those kinds of subjects close to the History section.” You step down from your stool, waving a hand for him to follow you as you lead him through the small labyrinth of bookshelves (some almost barely too small for more than one person).

You reach the shelves that contain the books and volumes on said subject. Some even leatherbound. You really should check inventory more often… You had more books on the subject than you thought. But then again, they may have also been left over from your great aunt’s stock. She loved reading on this sort of stuff. You remembered the few times she would read to you fables from some of these books. Strange, you could just barely recall one, now, actually… You shrug the twinge of childhood nostalgia off.

“Looks like I have more than I…” Your voice falls silent when you turn around and see Steven’s eyes already scanning each shelf–all the way to the ceiling–looking almost like a kid in a candy shop. You chuckle and it snaps him out of his trance.

“Uhm, oh. Yes! This is… er. Good! Great! I mean…” He rubbed the back of his neck slightly. “What I mean to say is that you have a very interesting selection of books!”

“Ha… Go ham on ‘em. Just don’t mind the dust… These books don’t get looked at too often. Rolling ladder is available for the higher shelves you can’t reach. Reading nooks are up front, and just let me know if you want any refreshments or snacks, or if you want to buy anything. I’ll either be up front, upstairs, or in back… Just press the buzzer on the counter if I’m not at the register.” You say, jabbing your thumb in the vague direction you came from. “And if you get lost in my little maze here…”

You click your tongue. “I should start offering some twine, huh?”

“Because I’m Theseus on his way out of the Minotaur’s Labyrinth?” Steven grinned at you, his eyes twinkling.

“More like I don’t wanna find your mummified remains tucked in between one of these shelves, eh?” You say, grinning at your pun.

Steven shook his head, his curls bouncing as he does so. “Oh, I doubt Marc or Jake would let me stay here that long.”

You pat his shoulder and squeak by him, leaving him alone to peruse your selection.

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Steven stayed in the back for nearly an hour. And when he came back he sat down right at the front nook, ordering a blueberry-cinnamon muffin with some Earl Grey tea sweetened with honey, no sugar. You mad a joke about having some Egyptian licorice tea somewhere, to which he started on a little infomercial type rant about how the Pharaohs used to drink it all the time back during the ancient days…

After about four hours (and three more muffins) he stepped up to your counter with all of his books in hand, a happy grin on his face. For sure, you thought, if this man had a tail, it’d be wagging like mad!

“I would ask if you found everything okay, but…” You eyed the stack of books. “...It looks like you kinda did!”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, ah… I got a little absorbed so I decided to take ‘em all…”

“Well, there is no return policy, but there is a trade-in policy. You can either get store credit or physical notes. Have to keep in business somehow right?” You shrug awkwardly.

“Ha ha… Yes, I understand. How much for all of them?” Steven beams, his attention was grabbed though, a moment later to the tiny pencil cup labeled "bookmarks". He plucked one out, and it was a pressed rose; the edges of the petals painted gold and vacuum-sealed with a colorful piece of paper within. 

“Like those, huh?” You smile.

“O-oh yes… very much. It’s beautiful.” He said softly.

“Each mark is fifty-pence.” You say politely.

Steven smiled and placed the bookmark on the top of his book stack.

You ring up the books, and he happily pays for them with a wad of notes (also covering the muffins he scarfed down). 

“I have a bag you can take, if you like. Canvas. I wouldn’t feel right if you had to lug all of those home!” You chuckle.

“Oh, it’s alright!” Steven grins, hoisting the books into his arms like they’re nothing after tucking his new bookmark within the safety of one of the heavier books.

He either works out a lot, or the man has simply done this so many times with so many different books he no longer feels the weight of them.

“I live close by, my flat is just down the block.”

“Oh! So I guess I can expect to hear from you more, huh?” You smile, holding the door open for him as he awkwardly waddles out of your shop.

“I certainly hope so!” He grins at you, giving you a curt nod as he walks down the misty London sidewalk.

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Later that night, after you had closed up shop, counted your earnings and stored them in the safe; you went upstairs to unwind for the day. You make a quick dinner, eat, and then shower.

While showering, you notice a different moon on your mark is full. This morning it was the bottom right one. Now, it’s the top one. It wasn’t uncommon for your mark to go outside its usual clockwise rotation, so you shrugged it off, grabbing a towel as you step out of the stall. 

Once you laid in bed, putting on something from one of your streaming services (like, come on, who even uses cable anymore, right?), you propped your cheek in your hand; your elbow supporting you as you stared almost blankly at the screen.

You didn’t think much of anything that night. Even the socially awkward bookworm who had walked into your store today looking into the selection of books you had that rarely anyone ever touched.

Or at least you didn’t think much of anything. Until you felt like you were being run through with a red-hot poker straight into your abdomen. These weren’t menstrual or ovulatory cramps, those were in a different spot. These pains were around your stomach, just under the last few bones of your ribcage. 

This was pain caused by your mark.

Your soulmate was hurt again.

You curled on your side, gasping for air while you waited for the phantom sensation to pass. Once it did, you spread out on your blankets, wiping the sweat from your brow.

“What the hell did you get yourself into now, you reckless dummy?” You ask the dead air of your bedroom.

Chapter 2: Link

[penelopegarciaismygf]

I can guarantee you that if you are a teenage girl, then ALL the other girls your age at some point or the other have sought connection online. For a lot of people it's adding randoms on snap, for some it's joining fan girl group chats for a lot it's quite a lot weirder (e.g tumblr) my point is you NEVER know. I don't even say this because I post on here. I say it because of my experience finding out that the most unlikely people do the oddest stuff online

Although the way I post on here, too, is odd to me. I am lucky in the fact that I have a nice group of friends who do know me and do validate me enough that I shouldn't have to seek validation online but after thinking about it for a while I don't think validation is actually what I want from here. Sure, I really like opening tumblr up to a bunch of notifications, but really, I just want SOMEONE to know the side of me that I can't openly express to my friends. That's why I don't mind if my yap posts get 1 like because at least someone saw, right? Someone in this world knows and that's alright

I'm also not so experienced with talking to people online- probably my first time actually talking online since 9 year old me got 5000 replies on her comment asking who y/n was on wattpad.

Sorry this is so long. I can just write this down in my diary instead (seriously, i think my long-winded tumblr posts have gone down massively since i started writing more in there)

Also if you actually read this all I love you so much and I really appreciate you🫶

[tangledinink]

raph fans come get y'all juice. chapter four of i'm sorry, teenage mutant what now? is up! read it on ao3 or below the cut!

[ prev ]

Okay, fine, he’d admit it. Dad was acting weird. 

Like, weird weird, not regular weird. Their dad had always been weird, which Leo had always chalked up to 1.) him being their dad 2.) him spending time in Hollywood. But this? This was off, even for him. 

Last night, he spaced out in the middle of one of Mikey’s stories, and Leo still wasn’t sure if he had literally fallen asleep with his eyes open or if he had just accidentally astral projected to the Twilight Zone or something. Of course, they had all then proceeded to say the most absolutely asinine, insane shit that they could think of in an attempt to goad a reaction until Mikey finally managed to snap him out of it by throwing some lentils at him. The day before that, he caught him rifling through that old shelf of weird knick-knacks that none of them were allowed to touch, muttering to himself the entire time like some crazy supervillain. Like, dude, had some ancient ninja ghost replaced their daddy, or what? ‘Cause this was getting freaky. He had kind of just thought Donnie was overreacting, but maybe he was onto something…

He hated it when Donnie was right. It happened annoyingly often and he could never admit it, lest he risk his twin’s ego becoming even larger. There’s only room for one egomaniac in this family.

“Think we can corner Dad on the train ride home and find out what’s happening? That way he won’t be able to run.” He said, casually, inviting himself into his twin brother’s room and tossing himself down on their bed.

 Donnie pulled his eyes away from whatever robotics project he was currently tinkering with in order to glare at his brother, spinning around in his desk chair.

 “Groan. Do we have to? That sounds unpleasant at best.”

 “Hey, you started this in the first place. And you agreed to the plan,” he countered, pointing accusingly at the other. “You don’t get to back out now.”

“I’m not saying that I’m not worried, or that I don’t think someone should talk with him. I’m just saying that I don’t want to do it.” Donnie defended.

“Bummer. You’re participating.” Leo deadpanned. “Between you, me, and Raph, we might have half a chance. And if not… Well. We’ve got the big guns waiting at home.”

 Donnie shuddered a bit. The Doctor.

 “I don’t know. Based on historical data, there’s about a 76.4% chance that Dad will attempt to bodily throw himself out the window of a moving train if we try to talk to him about his feelings.” 

 “Do you think we can find a train car without windows?”

 “I’ll do some research. I’m sure there are specs available online...” Donnie sighed, turning back around to face his desk and pulling out his phone.

 Leo hummed softly, knowing that Donnie would, in fact, actually do that, whether or not it was realistic.

“I’m serious, Donnie. We actually have to talk to him.”

“I mean, yeah, sure. I am too. But what the hell are we gonna say?”

“Ugh. I don’t know! You’re the one with a therapist! And you’ve been seeing her for how long now? Shouldn’t you know how to do all the talky-feely shit by now?”

“I’m autistic.”

“So?”

“You should get a therapist.”

“Off-topic,” Leo muttered, rolling his eyes. “This is, like, weirder than he usually is. Like… Something is for real wrong. It’s kind of spooky.”

“It’s Mikey.”

Leo scoffed. “It’s not Mikey.”

“Yeah, it is. He started being weird right after Mikey lit himself on fire.”

“Mikey didn’t light himself on fire, Dee.”

“Well, he clearly did something . And Dad keeps looking at him like he thinks he’s gonna combust at any moment. There’s a very clear pattern of behavior, Leo.” He insisted. “Also, you don’t know what the hell Mikey did, either, because we both know he wasn’t just playing with matches in his room.”

“He might have been.” Leo huffed. “That kid is way more fucked up than we give him credit for. Remember in the fourth grade when someone destroyed his science fair project?”

Donnie shivered. “You don’t just forget something like that, Leo.”

“Exactly! Playing with lighters is totally within the realm of possibility.”

“There’s a difference between enacting violent but justified revenge and doing simply dangerous stuff just for the fun of it.” Donnie countered, glancing up at the other through half-lidded eyes. “Plus, he’s used to all of us doing dangerous stuff for the fun of it! Dad wouldn’t react this way if he was just worried Mikey was gonna hurt himself. He deals with worrying Mikey is gonna hurt himself all the time. Nor would he let Mikey get away with this with nary a punishment if that were truly the case. In the very least, Dad doesn’t think the event was the result of Mikey just ‘playing with lighters.’”

“Oh, so what? It’s magic? His notebook magically caught on fire?” Leo challenged dryly, giving his twin an unimpressed look.

“Of course not. I’m a man of science.” Donnie scoffed. “I’m sure there’s a logical explanation, but, admittedly, I haven’t been able to intuit exactly what the cause was just yet. My investigation is still ongoing.” He sighed. “... But maybe Dad thinks it was?”

 Leo paused for a moment, rolling the thought around in his head, frowning a bit.

“You think Dad thinks Mikey magically caught his notebook on fire?” He questioned, raising one brow in doubt.

 “It’s possible,” Donnie said, shrugging. “We know that he’s superstitious.”

 Leo hummed softly, his hand automatically moving to spin the small silver bracelet on his wrist, running his fingertips across the smooth edges of the blue crystal in its center. One in a set of five. He supposed that that was technically true… ‘Superstitious’ wasn’t really the first word that would come to mind if he was trying to describe his father. It wouldn’t even be in the top ten. But slapping actual good-luck charms onto each of his children did kind of automatically sort him into that category, didn’t it?

 He knew his dad had a small altar in his room, and they would occasionally celebrate, or at least acknowledge, Japanese holidays that he had grown up with. But they didn’t have any other charms or amulets in their home, at least not that Leo knew of, just old knick-knacks and trinkets that lived on shelves or in closets. They had never gone to a shrine or temple or church or anything of the like in their lives, and he had never heard his Dad pray before. But the bracelets? He had always been really invested in that. Leo literally couldn’t remember a time when they hadn’t all worn them. He had told them since they were small that they ‘kept them safe ,’ and it had been a hard rule their entire lives that they weren’t to be removed.

 It was the kind of thing that Leo was pretty sure people would think was weird if he brought it up-- so he usually didn’t. He used to think it was weird, too, honestly, and kind of dumb. I mean, they were just bracelets, right? So what did it matter? But he remembered the one time he had tried to take it off when he was around seven. Even now it was absolutely vivid in his brain every time he thought about it.

 He hadn’t been trying to rebel or make trouble or anything, he had just been bored. He forgot exactly where they were, but they were waiting in line for something at some building with lots of desks and people milling about, discussing boring things. And there wasn’t anything to do! He had exhausted all viable options for entertaining himself: Annoying his father. Annoying his brother. Annoying his other brother. Annoying his other other brother. So he had basically run out of ideas.

 He hadn’t even taken the bracelet off. I mean, not all the way. He was just messing with it, kind of yanking it up and down his wrist, and seeing if he could wiggle it up his hand over his knuckles--

 But god, he remembers the way his father’s voice sounded when he caught him, biting out his name like it was painful. He remembers the look on his face, and even now it makes him feel small.

 Not because his dad was angry. But because he was scared.  

 He had never seen his dad look that way before in his entire life. Like he was about to watch the entire world crumble down around him. 

 It was scary. His dad was scared, so he got scared, too. He shivers a little bit at the memory, his frown deepening. They had left shortly after, and Dad had assured him at least twenty times that he wasn’t mad, and he was sorry for scaring him, and it was okay, but that he couldn’t take the bracelet off. It was important.

 Leo and his brothers had kind of decided after that that it probably was important and that they really shouldn’t take them off. Leo wasn’t entirely sure if he completely believed now that they actually ‘kept them safe’ or whatever, but he had certainly believed it then. And besides that, clearly, their father believed it, and that alone was enough for him. It was too small to really get off now, anyway. They had grown enough that Leo doubted he could wriggle his way out of it even if he wanted to. It was a small miracle that Raph hadn’t busted his with how damn beefy he had grown, but hey, he wasn’t gonna look a gift horse in the mouth or anything.

 “Okay. Fine.” Leo conceded. “So, Dad thinks Mikey has magic hands, or whatever. What do we do about it?”

---

The train ride over to the swim meet was relatively calm, filled with idle chatter and conversation. Leo, Donnie, and Raph had met their Dad at the station after school, and they spent the trip discussing the new leaf Donnie's Monstera was growing, the most recent viral street magic video Leo had seen, and the latest funny thing Raph's swim kids had done. Raph attempted, unsuccessfully, to prod their Dad into sharing as well, but the most he got was information about the latest reality show episode he had watched. Their Dad wasn't always the biggest sharer, but usually, they could at least get him to discuss the state of his Dojos, any new acting prospects, or celebrity gossip. He loved celebrity gossip! But not today-- the conversation stayed squarely focused on his three sons.

 Still, it had been pleasant, even with the slight stirring of anxiety in Raph's stomach. They were all busy more often than they weren't, so it was always nice to get to spend any amount of time together. Their pops didn't always attend all their various sporting events, recitals, or other competitions-- it just wasn't realistic. There was only one of him, after all. But they were getting towards the end of the season at this point, which meant that all the 'important' events were beginning to crop up on their calendars. Their Dad hated to miss those-- even if they did go pretty much every year. He always said he wanted to ‘brag about how talented his children were.’

 The sports center was just a short walk from the train station, and Raph glanced down at their father as they made their way into the bustling lobby. "You know where you're goin', pops?"

 "Yes, yes, of course. I could give tours of this place." His father joked, his frame shaking with his laughter. "You boys know how to find me if you need me. Now, go and have fun. And also, kick some butt!" He encouraged with a toothy grin.

 "You got it, pops!" Raph assured, smiling wide in response, herding his two younger brothers off to the locker room. Usually, they'd come here with the rest of their team. Rather than traveling with their Dad, they'd travel with the other kids and their coach. But this was the city-wide meet. Qualifiers only-- which thinned out the crowd. Raph knew there were other competitors from the Mad Dogs Swim Team around here somewhere, but until they could hunt them down, it was just the three of them. Luckily, this was far from their first rodeo.

"Dibs on Candy Locker!" Leo yelled.

"Leo, no one else wants Candy Locker," Donnie said.

"Do not touch the Candy Locker!" Raph shouted.

They did this every year.

The infamous Candy Locker.

  Raph, Leo, and Donnie had been competing in swim since they were eight and seven, respectively. And every year since then, all three of them had qualified for city-wide. And every year, city-wide was held at the Aquatics Pavilion at the Ithaca College campus. And every year that they came here, since they discovered it their very first time, the Candy Locker remained.

 It was basically a historical landmark at this point, and Raph was continuously baffled that it still persevered. There were rows and rows of shiny slate gray lockers in the changing rooms, free for whatever visiting athlete to use while they competed, just big enough that you could fit a swim bag in there if you really put some muscle into it, all labeled and neat. Typically, you would open a locker without a padlock, and there would be one of two things there. One: someone else's clothes and bag. Someone already took this locker, but is playing it fast and loose and trusts no one will steal their shit. That's cool. Stealing ain't the Mad Dog way. Two: An empty locker. Sweet, free locker. You can shove your shit in there. But at the Aquatics Pavilion, there was also a third option.

 That option was a faded yellow pillowcase filled to the brim with about two pounds of Halloween candy. 

 The running theory was that someone had stashed it here ages ago, forgotten it, and it had just been there ever since, therefore transforming Locker 336 into ‘Candy Locker.’ Raph wasn't sure if the staff at the school truly just weren't aware of it, if they just didn't feel like dealing with it, or if they too respected it enough that they couldn't bring themselves to destroy it. All he knew was that Candy Locker was forever, and a fixture of the institution. 

 He also knew that every single year, without fail, Leo tried to sneak chocolate out of Candy Locker. 

"You can't use Candy Locker. Leo! It's not open for use! It's Candy Locker, and it needs to be treated with respect!" Raph yelled, giving a low groan of annoyance as Leo just barely glanced back at him, just for a moment, this absolutely feral look of excitement in his eyes, and darted off, breaking away from their small group. Dammit. 

 All of Raph's little brothers were fast and small and nimble. Raph always felt a tiny bit awed when he watched how they moved-- weaving about obstacles like minnows swimming upstream, dancing and darting about in a way that always looked effortless. Raph was fast, too, and he was far more acrobatic than the average high schooler... Don't get it twisted, he was perfectly capable of back-flips and cartwheels. But small? Small he was not.

 It was tough being a big guy sometimes. I mean, he didn't dislike it by any means! He loved being large enough that he could see over crowds and keep an eye on everything. He loved feeling strong and powerful enough that he could plant himself in between his family and any kind of danger, and feel like a wall-- an immovable object. He loved being strong, relished the rush of pinning his opponents to the ground beneath him without any effort and smashing his way through obstacles.

 ... But with size and strength comes responsibility. Wait, was that the quote? Something like that. The point was, if he ran after Leo, he'd mow half these kids down.  And he didn't wanna hurt anyone or anything. He knew better than that.

"Raphael."

Raph's father knelt down next to him, his voice gentle, but nudging, demanding to be heard. It took Raph a few moments, but eventually, he glanced up at him, peeking shyly at his father from behind his hand and uncurling from the small ball he was rolled into just the tiniest bit.

 "Raphael, did you hit Leonardo?"

 He hesitated for a moment, and then nodded a tiny bit, sniffling loudly.

 "And bite him?"

He nodded again, drawing his legs up to his chest and hiding his face in his knees.

 His father sighed softly. "Red, we cannot--"

 "He pushed me first!" He bit out, and he could feel his face burn even hotter than before, all muddy with shame and anger sloshed together. "H-he was being mean, and, and he wouldn't leave me alone! And I wanted him to stop!" 

"I will talk to him, Red. But just because he pushes you does not mean you can push back. Or hit him, or bite him. You are bigger than him, Raphael."  This brought a fresh sob tumbling through Raph's chest, despite his best efforts. His father sighed again before slowly sitting down, holding out his arms.

 "Come here, my son." 

 Raphael rolled over onto his hands and knees, crawling into his dad's lap and burrowing his face into his chest. His dad's arms wrapped around him, squeezing him tight and rocking the two of them back and forth. And for a while, they just sat like that, quiet and still, hidden away in the hallway closet.

 "Is Leo okay?" Raph eventually mumbled, not picking up his head.

"He will be alright," Dad confirmed. "But you did hurt him quite a bit, Raphael."

"Sorry." He whispered. He wiped at his face with balled-up fists, hiccuping a few times. His mouth tasted salty, now, from the tears, but it still tasted bitter from the blood, too.

 "...You did a very good job coming to get me right away." 

 Raph hummed a tiny bit in response, but he didn't say anything beyond that. He wished he could fold himself up even tighter and hide. He wished he was so small he could fit in between the floorboards. He wished he could disappear.

 "You know, your gym teacher is very impressed with you, Red." Dad eventually began to speak again. "He told me all about how wonderfully you do whenever he sees you. You're bigger and stronger than the other kids in your class," He continued, and then laughed. "And I think that is very cool! And it makes me very proud to hear about how well you have done."

Raph finally dared to peek up at his father again, wiping some of the tears off his cheeks.

 "But I know it can be hard to be strong sometimes. It is a lot of work, being big and strong! You have to be careful with others around you, even if they're not careful with you back. That is very difficult!" He said, his hand moving in slow circles up and down his child's spine. "But I have seen you many, many times be big and strong to protect your brothers, and keep them safe, and to help them." He said, keeping quiet for a moment before exhaling slowly through his nose. "... Can I share a secret with you, Red?"

A secret? His eyes widened a bit, and he immediately nodded.

"I have been thinking that perhaps you boys might be ready to start learning proper martial arts at the dojo." Raph let out an audible gasp, his entire body perking up with excitement. Actual for real kung-fu and karate and stuff?! Not just blocks and poses!? "But I am a little worried that your brothers might hurt themselves, or fight with each other if I teach them." 

 Oh. Raph hadn't thought of that before. He frowned a bit, his brows suddenly pinched with worry. He hadn’t ever considered before that learning martial arts could actually be a bad idea. If he learned martial arts with his Dad, what if he just hurt his brothers worse? 

 "But I know how much you all want to learn. And I can already see how much potential you all have." He continued with a soft smile. "So I was hoping that you could help me. I don't like that you and Leo got into a fight, or that he got hurt... But now I know that you know what it feels like to hurt someone that you love. And that it doesn't feel very good, does it?"

 No... It felt horrible. He furrowed his brows, frowning before nodding a bit.

 "So I think that means that I can trust you to help me with teaching them how to be careful and strong at the same time, and keep them safe. Do you think you could handle that, Red?"

 Raphael swallowed hard, feeling this wet lump form in his throat. All the tears from before welled up in his eyes again-- even though he didn't wanna live in the floorboards anymore. His dad still trusted him that much? Even now, after he messed up really bad? He tried to tell his father 'yes,' but his lips were wobbling too much for his tongue to work right, so he just nodded as hard as he could instead. Yes-- He wanted more than anything to help protect his little brothers, no matter what. ‘Cause even when they made him so, so angry... he still loved them so, so much.

 "I thought so." Dad laughed, kissing the top of his son's head before ruffling his hair lightly. "And I know we will not have any more fighting like this. And no more biting , Raphael. We have talked about this. If you want to bite something, I will get you something else that is for biting. But it cannot be people! Understood?"

 Hiccuping a bit, Raphael nodded again. Somehow, he wasn't even upset to be scolded this time. And he knew that he had said he wouldn't bite people before, but this time he really meant it.

 "Good boy. Now, I am going to go check on your brothers. Do you want to stay here a little bit longer, or do you want to come with me?"

 Raph took a long, deep breath, swallowing the lump in his throat so that he could find his voice again.

 "I wanna see my brothers."

 "GET BACK HERE, LEO. DON'T MAKE ME COME AFTER YOU." He shouted, and was completely ignored. "Donnie--"

"Not involved." Donnie immediately replied, not looking up from his phone. 

 Raph groaned, trying to pick up the pace without taking out any bystanders, muttering repeated, "Pardon me's," and "'Scuse me's," as he went.

 Leo really wasn't that far ahead of them-- He wouldn't completely ditch them, but he did get far enough ahead that he was already breaking into Candy Locker by the time Raph rounded the corner, his face set into a deep scowl.

 "Leo. Don't you dare." 

 "Look! Untouched and beautiful as ever!"

 "Leo, do not eat the candy ."

"Wow, and they have all our favorites, too..."

 "They are at least eight years old! At a minimum , Leo!" 

 "Oh, pshhh. As if I haven't seen you wolf down two-week-old leftovers before." Leo scoffed.

 "Remember that time he ate beef jerky out of the trash?" Not helping, Donnie.

 "It was right on top! Practically untouched!" Raph protested. "And that's completely different! Plus, eight years is, like, twelve times longer than two weeks is!"

 "That math is not correct..." Donnie mumbled under his breath.

 "Chillax! I'm not gonna eat any of the candy." Leo said, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

 Oh, thank god.

 "I just wanna have one. To like... put on a shelf or something. I bet Donnie could make a little pedestal for it."

 Dammit.

 "One year." Raph said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Just one year. I just want us to leave Candy Locker in peace... for one year . It's a sacred space, Leo!"

 "Mmmm..." Leo pursed his lips, placing a hand on his hip. "Yeah, I mean. I see what you're saying, but... I'm pretty sure no one is gonna miss, like, one Tootsie Pop."

 "Stop messing with him, Leo." Donnie chided, cracking open a locker nearby, tossing his bag down and shucking off his jacket.

 "Okay, okay. Fine. Because I'm an amazing brother, I will refrain from interacting any further with Candy Locker until after the meet." Leo declared, slapping the locker shut again with a flick of his wrist and a satisfying metallic clack. "But know this, Raphael. This isn't over." 

 Raphael scoffed, rolling his eyes, glaring at Leo as he yanked open his own locker. He loved his brothers dearly-- he did. But they were really lucky sometimes that he didn't just snap their necks.

---

At this point, Yoshi had a pretty good handle on these types of events, and he knew well enough how to navigate. He knew exactly which corner bounced cheers and shouts about the least, knew just where all the vents, pumping in warm air to prevent all the swimmers from freezing their butts off, were hidden, so they could be avoided, and knew the best seating arrangement that allowed for minimal soreness the following day. Metal bleachers weren’t exactly easy on your back, after all! Armed with years of experience, (plus his cellphone and earbuds for when events did not feature his sons and he got bored,) he was fully committed to making it through the meet and focusing for the entirety of it. Had he made any progress on the whole Hamato Ninpo thing? Well, no, not exactly. Which was. Ah. Worrisome. But, now was not the time for that!

He was quite excited to watch his three eldest sons kick ass and take names, as per usual. 

He said 'hello' to a few of the other parents that he knew and made some polite small talk, settling down to watch the meet. Warm-ups were already done by the time he was all seated, and he could see his boys and the rest of their team from where they sat across the pool; audience members sat on one side, and competitors on the other. He watched them doing much of the same-- making conversation with each other and their teammates, checking their phones, and cheering whenever anyone they knew was in the water. 

 All in all, everything was fairly normal and expected. Yoshi still struggled a bit to keep himself focused, and not think too deeply about all the worries in his head, but it wasn't as bad as it had been lately... It had been nearly a week now with no further incidents, no questioning from his children, and no spooky prophecies or visions from his ancestors or anything like that. So he was beginning to wonder, or perhaps more accurately, hope that maybe it had just been a fluke. Just a one-off event rather than the beginning of anything trying. Maybe his family was fine, their identity and secrets were safe, and nothing further was going to occur to jeopardize that-- they could just continue to live in peace just as they had been.

 He watched the twins get up from the bench for their next event, shedding their hoodies and towels in favor of goggles, only to get waved over by an official. The two wandered over and joined him and what appeared to be another parent. He couldn't hear what they were saying from where he was, but the conversation soon became animated-- Donnie's arms crossed over his chest, Leo talking wildly with his hands, and worry immediately began to blossom in his chest. He had just gotten to his feet, beginning to make his way over to the group when the discussion seemed to dissolve, his two sons walking away visibly upset. Yoshi met them halfway. 

 "What is going on?" He immediately questioned, his brows knit together, forming wrinkled creases in his skin. He could see Raphael straining to see from his side of the pool, a similar expression on his own face.

 "Ugh. It's nothing." Leo huffed, a scowl set on his face, his hands on his hips. "Some Karen or whatever is just mad that we're gonna ruin her kid's record or whatever, so she talked the officials into drug testing us."

 "Which is obviously a complete waste of time and resources," Donnie added in, rolling his eyes.

 "She's just gonna embarrass herself when it comes back negative. As if we need any steroids to clean up shop." Leo declared, a small, sly grin growing on his face, offering out a hand to high-five his brother like, ‘Sick burn, right, Dee?'

 His brother accepted, slapping his palm firmly. "Indeed."

 Yoshi had broken out into a cold sweat, feeling as though his entire body had turned into stone, freezing him in place.

 "O-oh. A drug test. Yes, how silly..." He mumbled, forcing a grin on his face. "How. Uh. How exactly... Does that work? Is it going to take long? I would hate for the, uh, the meet to be held up...!"

 "No, they're just doing a rapid test." Donnie hummed. "Obviously it's going to be a smaller panel than they could achieve with a proper lab test, and not achieve quite as accurate or varied of a data set, but it should only take five minutes or so. I understand they're fetching the technician now, and then it should be as simple as collecting a urine sample to use. It can only reveal a 'negative' or 'positive' result rather than any more detailed variations or anything of the like, but of course, this isn't a concern for us, since we already know neither of us is using any drugs. It's actually a very fascinating process--"

 Yoshi wasn't listening anymore, because all he could hear in his ears was his own voice screaming TURTLE PISS TURTLE PISS TURTLE PISS.

  Logically, the test did not have the capacity to give such information. Donatello had just said that there were only two possible test results, positive or negative, and his purplest son usually knew what he was talking about regarding such things. So, reasonably, he knew it could not possibly come back ‘Mutant Turtle’. And rationally, he knew that his family had been under further scrutiny in the past and come out on the other side just fine. This did not ease his panic. It never did. 

Insurance cards? Check. Paperwork? Check. All four children? Check. He went over his list for the fifth time in his head, glancing down at his kids, two on either side of him, as they approached the office. Right... Yes. He had everything he needed. 

 So why didn't he feel even the least bit prepared?

 He had gone to such lengths to ensure the success of this plan. He had accounted for every document that would need to be forged, had crafted an elaborate story to explain his disappearance, and had paid dearly for the five bracelets that concealed his and his sons' mutant identities. He prepared for every possible threat to their new identities, and did everything he could to allow the success of their new lives.

 It wasn't like he didn't account for this. He knew that it would be an obstacle, and he knew that it would be one that they would have to face. That didn't stop it from being terrifying.

 The doctor.

 Despite all the paperwork he had fabricated, he knew that they wouldn't be able to avoid going to the doctor forever. Even if he falsified records indicating his sons were up to date on absolutely everything and in perfect health, this would only buy them a year or two before they would be due for a visit, or risk being barred from enrollment in public school. And even if he somehow avoided this, too, what if one of his children got sick? Or injured? Was he to simply keep them at home and deny them medical care? 

 No, no. He wanted his kids to have a normal life. He wanted them to be able to do things like go to school and play in parks and make friends with other children... and have proper medical care when it was needed. He wanted them to be vaccinated, to be screened for problems, to have regular check-ups and be able to go to the hospital when they were hurt. He desperately wanted this.

 But jesus christ, this was terrifying.

 "Are you ready, boys?" He asked, glancing down at his children once more. He was trying to keep his voice level and his body language calm, but he could tell that his sons could sense his anxiety. His heart broke a little when four pairs of big, horrified eyes looked up at him and they shook their heads.

 "Ah, where are my brave boys?" He questioned, nudging them ever so slightly, beginning the walk into the office. He held Mikey and Donnie's hands tightly so that they wouldn't be able to tell he was shaking. "Do not worry. I promise that Dr. Davis is very nice. Nothing bad will happen." He assured.

 The boys didn't seem too convinced. He wasn't either, truthfully, but he marched them inside anyway.

 It had been over a decade since he had last been inside a doctor's office, and even longer than that since he had been to a pediatrician. Yet somehow, it felt like nothing had really changed. Colorful wires with wooden beads strung on them stuck out from a brightly-painted table in the middle of the room, in sharp contrast to the faded burgundy chairs lined along the walls. Children's books and Highlight magazines covered every available surface, which Donnie immediately took to reading. There were a few other parents with their children as well, but the Hamatos were in no mood to socialize. After speaking to the woman at the front desk, Yoshi got to work filling out a literal stack of papers. He was so nervous, he messed up at least three different forms, and had to sheepishly request new copies.

 And then they waited.

 The longer they sat, the more the collective anxiety seemed to mount. Yoshi couldn't help the scenarios running through his mind over and over, each one ending with a doctor or nurse shrieking in horror and calling Animal Control--

 "Dad." 

 Yoshi blinked back into reality, looking down at his youngest son, pulling at his sleeve with tears in his eyes.

 "Dad, I wanna go home," Mikey whispered, leaning in close to him and sniffling a bit. "I don't wanna see the doctor." 

 Quite frankly, Yoshi was inclined to agree with his kid, to pick them all up and walk out right this very minute. But he suppressed the urge. 

 "I know, Mikey. I do not like seeing the doctor either." He admitted, scooping up the preschooler to hold in his lap. "But I promise... Dr. Davis is very nice, and, ah, I will not let them do anything bad to you... I am sure everything will be fine...!" 

 Before he could continue his, quite frankly, horrible pep talk, a nurse poked her head into the room from the back. 

 "The Hamatos?" 

  "Yo. Dad. You good?"

 Yoshi paused for a moment before he returned properly back to the present day, glancing over at his sons and giving a nervous laugh, which then dissolved into a cough. 

 "Ah! Yes, of course! I am perfectly fine! Why wouldn't I be!" He wheezed, and his sons exchanged looks.

 "Papa, honestly, it's fine. This will take ten minutes tops, and again, I assure you that neither Leo nor myself are engaging in any kind of recreational substances." Donnie said.

 "Yeah! All we gotta do is piss in a cup." Leo added in. "And then we'll be all set. It's just annoying. Here, why don't you sit down, watch some Netflix or something-- I know you like Netflix-- and we'll be back in a bit, okay? Just chill." 

 "Right. Of course. I am... very chill." Yoshi insisted, even though he could feel his hands trembling a bit. Gah! Stupid traitor hands! Stop it! 

 "Surrreeee," Donnie said, taking him by the arm and slowly leading him back to the bleachers, sitting him down and patting his shoulder. "We'll be right back, alright? Nothing to worry about." 

---

"Alright, you should be all set." Dr. Davis hummed pleasantly, offering a gentle smile to her latest anxious parent. "Everyone looks great! Healthy weights, nothing scary going on... We'll send you home with some literature and referral information for Donatello. I would recommend considering getting in contact with them if you can, especially since he's gonna be starting school soon, but beyond that everything looks fantastic." 

 "Yes-- thank you," Yoshi said, forcing a smile, shakily accepting the new stack of papers that the doctor handed over.

 Nothing had gone wrong.

 Well, a few things had gone wrong. Mikey and Raphael had both cried when they got their shots. Donnie had a small meltdown after being repeatedly touched by people he didn't like. And Leo had punched a nurse in the gut for upsetting his brothers. 

 But their bill of health came back clean. No mentions of turtles, mutations, cold-bloodedness, or reptilian features of any kind.

 They made it through. They would be okay.

 "... And we'll see you back in about five weeks for their next booster series, okay? Jacklyn up front can get you all scheduled!"

 Yoshi pursed his lips slightly, his mouth suddenly feeling rather dry.

 "... Ah. Yes. Of course." 

---

The concept of buoyancy was built upon that of displacement; the idea that two different forms of matter could not occupy the same space. Archimedes once theorized that water, a liquid, would be pushed aside by a solid mass, but an object of an appropriate weight, density, or shape could ensure that the displaced weight of the water was greater than the total weight of the object, therefore ensuring it to float. This is, of course, connected to the concept of forces. Gravity is a downward force that acts upon all objects; when an object is placed in a fluid, that fluid must supply a force equal in magnitude but opposite in direction to the gravitational force for the object to float. Scientifically speaking, it was all a matter of density and mass, and every action that one took in the water, as well as every action that the water had in response, could be explained through a series of formulas and equations.

 ... In a non-scientific sense, however, water was safe and soft and inviting. Water would make room for you, no matter who you were or what you were doing. Once you got in, it would change itself to make exactly enough space for your body. Water was fluid and changing, soft and gentle when you moved softly, hard and firm when you moved harshly. In the water, the way you move changes. The way you see and hear changes. Perception itself shifts.

 God, Donatello loved swimming.

 Even just swimming laps was great, but a race only heightened the experience, engaging every bit of his body and mind and encouraging him to push. From the moment the buzzer went off and he dived from the starting block, ( push off with your legs, you're going for distance, not for height, hands together, smooth entry point, ) to the lap down, ( head down, no breathing except for when you absolutely need to, arms go back and glide over the water-- imagine your fingertips skimming just over the surface, no unnecessary movement, just enough for the maximum propulsion forward with minimal effort, ), the turn at the wall, ( watch the floor, see the blue tile end and the white begin-- you know the math, count it out, at five you duck, chin to your chest, arms together, kick off the wall and get as much air off that sucker as you can, ) and the sprint back, ( kick from your hips, not your knees, no reserving energy, it's just a fifty, this is a ‘dash,’ so dash -- )

 Every second of it he was engaged, and every second of it he adored the experience. He didn't even slow down when he approached the wall, ramming into it at full speed and using his outstretched hands to stop himself and trigger the timer that stopped the clock. They didn't have to worry about slowing down. They wouldn't run into anything. Their own hands and the water would catch them. 

 Sucking in ragged breaths, he looked to his left, and then he looked to his right. Leo was right behind him, but as he glanced up at the display board on the wall to check his time, he grinned widely. He had more than a five-second lead over him. More than enough to qualify for Regionals-- not that he had been worried. Leo was well within the range as well, just as expected. The three of them always went to Regionals. And Donnie was quite pleased to note that the kid from Lane 4, the child, he and Leo had deduced, of the woman who demanded they be tested, was significantly behind the two of them. Sure, his time was good enough to qualify for Regionals, too...

 But it wasn't anywhere near as good as theirs. Haha. Suck it.

 One by one, all of the racers joined him at the end of the lane, bobbing about in the water and holding onto the pool edge or the lane lines, everyone out of breath and filled with adrenaline. He shook the hands of his two lane neighbors, congratulating both of them on a race well run, and once the referee blew his whistle, he clambered out of the water, hoisting himself up back onto dry land and moving to rejoin his twin.

 "Killed it." Leo said, though breathlessly, ("if you're not struggling to breathe by the end of a race, you're not doing it right," their coach often said,) offering a fistbump, which Donnie reciprocated.

 "As expected." He said, grinning wide as the two of them made their way back to the bleachers. 

 "Leo! Donnie! Nice!" Raph called as they approached, tossing them each a towel to wrap around themselves, each beginning to dry themselves off, peeling goggles and swim caps off their heads. "Good time! But, uh, what was with the--?"

 "Some lady made us do a drug test," Leo explained, waving a hand as if to dismiss Raph's concerns. "It was dumb, we both passed, it's all good now. Just annoying."

 "A drug test?! Seriously?!" Raph said, scoffing loudly. And admittedly, Raphala was no stranger to similar situations. Donnie recalled he had been accused of taking steroids or faking his age more than once in his various sporting exploits, but it typically wasn't taken as far as to actually test him. Donnie thought, vaguely, that he was almost surprised that Raph wasn't subject to the same treatment as he and Leo were today, but he supposed it did make at least a bit of sense. Raph was big-- he was tall and visibly muscular and powerful. People looked at him and expected him to excel in athletics.

 He and Leo? Not so much. Leo was only 5'5", and he himself barely passed 5'3" without his boots, much to his annoyance. They were both lean and clearly athletically inclined, sure, but they were both much smaller and slimmer than their older brother was. People looked at them and were often surprised by their respective sporting resumes. Especially him.

 "Yes, yes, it was an unfortunate waste of everyone's time." Donnie agreed. "But to no one's surprise, it came back completely spotless, and we were able to proceed without issue and completely destroy absolutely everyone, in your face Karen, thank you very much."

 "Is that why Dad's been freaking out?" Raph asked after a moment, raising a brow. Donnie followed his eyes to steal a glance over at their father on the other side of the pool, looking much better than he had before they received their test results, (both he and Leo offering him thumbs up from across the way once they had been cleared, and watching him sag with relief,) but still seemed a bit shaky.

 "Yeah," Leo said, wrinkling his nose. "I thought he was gonna pass out for a second there when we told him. He was sweating so much, it was disgusting."

 "He doesn't seriously think you guys' would come back positive or anything, does he?" Raph scoffed, frowning a bit, and Leo shook his head.

 "Nah, I don't think so. But you know how scared he is of doctors."

--- 

 Dad always got like this whenever they had an appointment.

 'This' meaning, of course, 'Visibly and overwhelmingly anxious and frightened, absolutely filled with dread and horror.' 

 They were all kind of used to it by now.

 When they were little, it would sort of freak them out, because every time they had to go to the doctor, he had to come with them, and he'd be in a state of near-panic the whole time. And if Dad was freaking out, then they should probably be freaking out too, right? Looking back, Leo recognized that he was always trying to hide it, but quite frankly, he did a pretty shit job at it. Now that they had gotten a bit older, however, collectively exiting elementary school years to enter junior high, they more-or-less recognized that Dad's doctor-induced panic was really more of a personal thing, and not necessarily something that they needed to worry about themselves. Leo still didn't really like the doctor, and he kind of doubted he ever would, but he wouldn't really categorize himself as 'afraid' any longer.

 Their Dad? Not so much. 

 The four of them had been long aware of the little note on the calendar in the kitchen, the sacred piece of literature that controlled all their lives, dictating that at four o'clock on this date, their dear father would be summoned to the doctor's office. And they knew that, of course, like he did every time, he would totally freak out. And, just as predicted, he had been an anxious mess all day, pacing around the house, mumbling nonsense to himself, (something about them being ‘onto him’ and ‘rat blood’ and other completely meaningless jibber-jabber.) 

 But this time, they had a plan. They absolutely could not continue to watch him like this. Everyone was in place. Leo looked across the living room, nodding to Raph. Raph glanced at Donnie, who checked his watch, and likewise nodded an affirmative. Mikey put down his sketchbook, getting to his feet, and the four of them, following his cue, fell into step with each other and filed into the kitchen.

 Mission: Save Daddy From the Horrors was a go.

 "Hey Dad," Mikey began, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and leaning into him slightly. Raph, at the same time, got to work preparing a pot of tea-- Donnie fetched the cream, Leo was on sugar duty. "So, we were thinking. Maybe we could come with you this afternoon?"

 Their father startled slightly, immediately moving to glare at Mikey with suspicious eyes. "What?! Come with me? Why would you want to come with me to a doctor's appointment?"

"Well, we were just thinking, it might be a nice, uh... family outing!" Raphael offered with a shrug, chuckling nervously and looking to the side. "And maybe we could, I dunno, get frozen yogurt on the way back?"

 "And we could watch that game show you like on the way over. With the mystery shrimp?" Donnie suggested. 

 "Plus, I mean, I've been meaning to get some acting tips from you? Not that I need them, obviously, but..." Leo added, placing a cup into his father's hands as he narrowed his eyes. 

 "... You boys are... up to something..." Dad mumbled, looking between the four of them with a slight frown. 

 "Up to something? No! Of course not!" Raph insisted, and Mikey placed a hand on their father's shoulder.

 "We just want to spend more quality time with you! As a family! Don't you want to spend time with us, your loving sons?" He questioned, batting his eyes. "Plus, we can get frozen yogurt! We know how much you love frozen yogurt, right?" 

 "Yeah, what they said," Donnie said. 

 "Pleaseeeee?" Leo went in for the kill, offering a dramatic pout, poking his lower lip out as far as it could possibly go. Mikey joined in shortly, combining their powers to reach near-dangerous levels of puppy-dog-eyes.

 "... I suppose... If you really would like to..."

  Score. They were in. Goal: minimize anxiety and get their dad home from the doctor's office in one piece for a change. And if they got some frozen yogurt in the process? What was the harm in that? As far as Leo was concerned, so long as they could manage to get their Dad through this appointment without totally freaking out, that'd be a win. And, if things went well, it would be that much easier to convince him to allow them to accompany him to future appointments, too. 

---

The rest of the swim meet went about as expected. Donnie easily got the best times in every event he participated in, and all three of them, plus a couple of their teammates, made it into the upcoming Regionals. Trophies and ribbons were given out in the end, which they had all immediately passed on to their father, ‘cause he was more excited about them than they were and would surely figure out a way to find space for at least some of them at home. Raph physically wrestled an ancient Twix bar out of Leo's hands, and once his little brother finally cried for mercy and swore to leave Candy Locker alone for the remainder of the trip, he unpinned him from the ground and allowed him to get back up. Normal stuff. 

 It wasn't until the train ride home that things got kind of weird. 

 About fifteen minutes in Leo started giving him these looks. Looks that said, ' go on, say something.' So Raph started giving Leo ' no, you say something ' looks. After some back and forth, they both tried to give Donnie looks, but Donnie completely ignored them in every sense of the word, pointedly refusing to look up from his phone as he discussed the process of coding artificial intelligence to their dad, who clearly didn't understand anything they were saying, but to his credit, was doing his best to nod along. 

 After losing a silent game of rock-paper-scissors played at knee-level, just outside of their father's field of vision, Raph cleared his throat, leaning over slightly.

 "Sooo, Pops... You been... sleeping okay?"

 "Hm? Oh, yes! You know I am always out like a light after my before-bed snack!" Dad replied easily with a chuckle, and Raph frowned, ‘cause he could tell just by looking at him that that was a lie.

 "Uh-huh. Right." Leo scoffed, not buying it. "That's crazy. Because, no offense, but you look kind of like garbage. And like you haven't so much as touched a pillow in, like... ever." 

 This immediately earned him a smack to his forehead.

 "Garbage?! I will have you know that I was voted Hollywood's ‘Sexiest Action Film Star’ five years in a row! No respect!"

 Leo whined loudly, rubbing his forehead and mumbling "ew," under his breath, but Raph knew it was all for show. Dad's infamous ‘Karate Chops’ never actually hurt. Though it could be that Leo was more hurting from the psychological damage of hearing their father refer to himself as ‘sexy’ than anything else...

 "I concur-- ew. And as fascinating as this factoid that you've cursed us with is, father, it doesn't really address the fact that you've clearly not been sleeping." Donnie remarked, still not looking up from his phone screen. Raph knew he was listening, though. He wasn't typing, no video was playing. He was fully engaged with the conversation. Just needed his barrier.

 "Yeah, if anyone is qualified to identify an insomniac, it's me!" Leo added in.

 "What we're trying to say is," Raph jumped in, hands held out and a nervous smile on his face, "Is just, uh. That we're a little worried about you, Pops. I mean. You've seemed kind of, uh, out of it... since..."

 "Since that thing with Mikey." Leo helpfully supplied, crossing his arms over his chest. 

 Raph noted the slight twitch in his Dad's left eye. 

 "What thing with Mikey?" Dad feigned.

 "Uh, the thing where he started a fire in his room? That thing? Ringing any bells?" Leo pressed, with a tone and a look that said 'yeah, nice try.'

"Oh, yes. That." Their dad said, waving a hand dismissively. "We have already discussed this, boys. The important thing is that Mikey was not hurt, and Purple, I know you are upset because you are not allowed to start fires anymore--"

"It's not about Mikey, Dad," Raph interjected. "It's about you! You've just... you've been acting... weird! And it's been nearly a week now! And-- and if something's goin' on, we wanna know!"

 "Nothing is going on." Their father immediately denied. "I already told you all. That was simply a freak accident, and it is not anything worth worrying about. I am fine! It is nothing you need to concern yourselves with."

"Dad, come on. There's obviously something bothering you!" Raph pushed a little harder, despite the anxiety bubbling up in his stomach, feeling like a soda can in a washing machine. "We just wanna help. Come on, don't you trust us--"

 "Enough." This time it was Dad who interrupted, his voice harder now, firm and definite. Raph flinched slightly. "I already said it is none of your concern. I am fine. I am perfectly capable of handling this, and I do not want any of you involved!"

 Raph opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but was surprised to find that there were no words. So he closed it again. He glanced over at Leo and Donnie, but they had about the same expressions on their faces as him. 

 "Please, Red." He heard the sigh in his father's voice, and he sounded softer now, tired even, and placed a hand on Raph’s shoulder. Raph glanced downwards, his eyes following all the knobs in his father’s fingers, the wrinkles in his knuckles. He didn't want to look at his face, because he knew that if he did, he would see him as an elderly man rather than Dad. He hated it when that happened, when he fell into that headspace... Just seeing people as people, just looking at them for exactly what they were, with all the familiarity and memories stripped away from them. "Just let me take care of this. I have everything under control." 

Raph frowned a bit, not entirely sure if he believed him.

 "We have a good life, Raphael. I need you to let me keep it that way." He said. "And to trust me enough not to get involved. Please."

 He didn't look at Leo or Donnie this time. Something in his gut was screaming at him that this wasn't the move. The words Dad was picking here felt... off. But the way his voice sounded... He swallowed thickly, and then slowly nodded. 

 "Yeah. Okay, Dad. We trust you."

Far beneath the city, below the concrete, below the subways, below even the sewers, the world eventually became city again-- Hidden below the oblivious humans above. At the edge of this city, a small vine grew from the soil, slow and silent, just at the seam of a brick wall. Ever-so-carefully, the vine grew and expanded, pushing itself upward, dark and veiled in violet veins. 

 The vine pressed itself up against the stone wall, curling unnaturally upward, and a bit of stone cracked in response, falling away to the soil below.

 The vine pushed further.

[ next ]

[yellowkitkieran]

No Scotland, No Party (Kieran Tierney)

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: Kieran helps you pack for Germany and helps fight your insecurities at the same time.

“Key! Come help me, my case won't close!”

Your tongue pokes out as you climb on top of the unzipped suitcase, trying every trick in the book to get the damn thing to close. Are you trying to shove a month's worth of skincare and clothes into a single bag? Yes, but that is beside the point. Being prepared is the most important thing here; you cannot touch down in Germany and realize you forgot the very color of nail varnish you haven't touched in years but decide that is the best option. 

“My darling,” Kieran's sweet tone already has you bristling because you know what he'll say, “Why don't you just pack less-”

As Kieran rounds the corner to your bedroom, you shoot him with a glare that would make most men turn tail and run. Your boyfriend knows better though; he's well aware that your bark is far worse than your bite. For as vicious as you appear on the surface, it takes a lot for you to truly snap. So your handsome Scotsman only grins, crosses his arms and leans against the doorframe. 

“Don't finish that sentence, Kieran. I have to pack all this, I can't take anything out! I have the bare minimum already!” You probably look unhinged with your wildly waving hands and wide eyes. At least Kieran gleans some amusement from your dilemma.

“Alright love. Let's take a breather, yeah? Okay.” Kieran removes you from your perch and sets you on the bed as if you weigh no more than a bird. He smiles and pecks your forehead, ever the level headed problem solver. Though you feel heat creeping to your cheeks, you're too stubborn to say anything as Kieran pulls out the packing cubes you spent ages tetris-ing into place. 

“Hm. I’m not sure about all this. Three pairs of sneakers, two pairs of flats, and a pair heels? Darling, surely you don't need so many shoes.” Kieran shakes his head with a smile as he pulls out another larger cube bulging with jerseys and miscellaneous Scotland gear. “And I thought you were planning on stealing all my jerseys anyway, why do you need these?” 

“Because,” you snatch the cube from him and shove it back in the case, “they're vintage. They prove I'm a day one supporter! I don't want everyone thinking I'm some bandwagon fan that's only in it cause Scotland is doing well this year.”

“Come on, you know no one thinks that. All of the lads know how long you've been around, you're my day one lass!”

You quirk a brow at him, “actually, some fans have other opinions. Clearly you don't read what people say online-” 

“You know I don't, because it doesn't matter-” 

“But I do, and I don't want to give anyone an excuse to critique me while I'm in Germany. I'm there to support you, not get caught up in some tabloid headlines.” It’s silly, you know that. Opinions of faceless online trolls shouldn't have any say in your plans. It is hard to ignore though, when it pops up unprompted so frequently on social media. 

Kieran joins you on the bed and pulls you into his lap. You relish the slight scratch of his five o'clock shadow against your shoulder as he lightly kisses your neck. “Like I said, it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks. I know that you're there because you love me and you cannae stand the thought of watching on a screen instead of supporting me in person. That's what counts, why does anyone else's opinion matter?” 

Of course Kieran is right. As usual. Because your insecurities always resurface when the spotlight gets brighter on Kieran, and during the Euros you know there will be plenty of chatter surrounding him and his teammates. You're doing your best to mentally prepare for it, trying to get ahead of the curve to anticipate and dispel anything negative before it can surface.

Your trust for Kieran outweighs any doubts hanging over your head. So you smile at him, nodding as you put on a no-nonsense face. 

“Alright, I'll take some out.” You hold out your hands for the bag of vintage kits and remove all but two of them, your favorites that you were planning to bring regardless. Then you take out the heels (you'd rather be comfortable than be fashion forward anyway), and a dress that you packed solely because it was “wag material”. Kieran doesn't say a word, he just repacks the remaining cubes when you’ve finished your audit and then zips the case shut with ease. 

“There, all set. That wasn't so hard.” You want to be mad, but Kieran's smile ebbs any lingering frustration. It's always been that way with him. His ability to soothe your hot-headed streak never fails. So you sigh and rest your head on his shoulder instead of spitting a reply like you instinctively want to.

“I guess all that is left is to pack my carryon.” You grin at Kieran, recognizing the moment the thought crosses his mind. 

“Ah, no, before you ask, you cannae fit me in your carry on, love. I'm going on the jet!”

**********

In the future, perhaps you'll listen to Kieran more often. The only headlines you've seen online are about how brilliant of a supporter you've been. Fans are singing your praises for your decision to forgo sequestering yourself in a private box in favor of joining them in the stands. Your ability to start chants with your loud, captivating voice keeps them riled match after match. And even now at one of the many after parties, you keep the lads riled up and excited by singing along to the music pounding over the speakers. 

“We know we ain't no Argentinaaaaa…” 

Robbo throws his arm over your shoulder as the music pauses for a beat, his ridiculously oversized sunglasses knocking your temple. The whole room remains hushed for a few tantalizing moments, and when the beat drops, everyone erupts. 

“BUT WE'VE GOT JOHN MCGINN!” You can barely pick out your own voice among the players, friends and families gathered as you all belt out the lyrics to the unofficial, official Scotland Euros song. “And Robbo out on the wing!” At that, the entire room points to you and Andy, who is wearing his classic goofy smile and jumping up and down with one arm still over your shoulders. His glasses are askew now, but he couldn't care less- the entire atmosphere is electric, and you find yourself caught up in the fun and join Andy in his erratic dancing. 

You tip your head back to the ceiling, eyes shut against the strobing lights and yell the next line, “No Scotland, no partyyyy!” Like your life depends on it. “Steve Clark’s tartan armyyy!” You're in your element now, as at home among your friends as Kieran is with a ball at his feet; a fact that isn't lost on your boyfriend, who happily observes from his spot near the makeshift bar and sings along too, albeit a touch quieter than you. 

It's only when the song ends and Andy releases you that Kieran comes to find you. The volume of the music lowers a touch and gives everyone a chance to catch their breath. You grin at Kieran as he approaches, one arm sliding around your waist as he joins you near the bar. 

“Hello darling. Is that drink for me?” Your hopeful question has Kieran tipping his glass bottle of beer toward you. You greedily gulp down half of it before he manages to steal it from your claws. 

“Oi, I'm only allowed one all night! And now it's nae gonna last much longer thanks to you!” 

You giggle, then hiccup, then lightly smack Kieran’s toned chest. “Maybe if you had a line written about you in that song they'd let you have another. Cause Andy's had more than one, that's for sure!”

“Dinnae know how he got a second,” Kieran grumbles, pouting in the general direction his captain disappeared in. “Nae fair if ya ask me. If he gets two, the lot of us should get two!” 

“Ohh, you tell ‘em babe. Look at you- all angry aren't you?” You run your hands over Kieran's chest, tipsy enough thanks to the unlimited number of drinks you've been allowed to have. “Such a strong, angry little man aren't you… and so handsome! I'm a lucky lass.” you cup Kieran's jaw, thumbs rubbing over his stubble. Upon seeing the slight glaze to your eyes, a laugh rumbles out from Kieran’s chest beneath your other hand. 

“You're right pished, aren't you darling? Just how many did you have?” 

“Dinnae count,” you mumble. You're far too tired to tally them up now, especially when Kieran's warm lips meet your forehead. “When's your next match again? I hope it's not tomorrow because I'm gonna need to sleep this off.”

“Wednesday. But I have recovery tomorrow, and training every day too.” Kieran is quick to shush you when you groan, registering your protest even if it does fall on slightly deaf ears. “I know, I know, you'll miss me the entire time. You dinnae ken what you'll do with your free time. But you could go out with the other girlfriends and wives, that's an option!” 

“That's already my plan! But I want to see youuuuu- I want to see my boyfriendddd!” You jut your lower lip, two fingers finding the front belt loops of his jeans and pulling him closer. “Why do you have to be so good at what you do? You should slip a few times in training so you don't have to go back. Then you could spend time with me!”

“Well, I'm no John McGinn. But I am out on a wing, so I guess I'm sort of like Robbo- clearly not as good as him but hey, but I'll take it.” Kieran’s smile turns your knees to goo. It's lucky he's got a firm hold on you or else you'd be a puddle on the floor at this point. “Why don't we head to our room for now then? We can party more when we win, yeah? For now let's get you into bed.”

A pitiful whine bubbles past your lips. “I want to stay outttttt! You haven't even danced with me yet- and that's a crime! Shame on you for not dancing with your girlfriend!”

“I- hey!” Kieran rubs his arm where you just pinched him, frowning down at you. “Well, I was going to offer to dance with you now, but I dinnae ken if I should after that abuse!”

“You have to! I'm not leaving until I get a dance with my handsome, lovely, song-worthy winger of a boy-” 

Kieran's kiss cut you off, which while mildly surprising, is somewhat expected. It's his favorite way to distract you from any argument and it works fairly well. And when he gets a bit cheeky and grazes his tongue over your lips, you're putty in his hands. You would pluck the moon from the sky and place it in his cupped hands if he wished it. 

Stars buzz in your vision when he pulls away. You laugh, fingers interlocking behind his neck. “Alright. Back to the room it is.”

[interpolanticssuperfan]

nothing natural | ken x fem!reader | part 4 | 18+ only

hey everyone!!!! thanks so much for your patience in my getting out this next chapter, ive been incredibly busy with life stuff and finishing a different fic of mine on ao3. (if you're a fight club fan, i'm @snottys on there. LOL) thank you for the kind words and the messages, they mean SO much to me. i hope this chapter is alright, and i can promise some mounting sexual tension in the next one; im just hoping to build up successfully to it so it feels organic and fun. i love you all and thanks for reading <3

tags: @heyareyoulistening @itsametaphorbriansblog @alyeria

The tight snap of the glass sliding door jilted you, and you should’ve guessed that Ken wouldn’t leave you alone, even if it meant deliberately ignoring your request for some space. With a heaving sigh, you studied your hands, the lines of your knuckles to try and see if your skin could explain what was wrong with you. What could possibly be wrong with you. 

Inward thoughts tapering off, you couldn’t ignore the way Ken’s presence was making you feel, searing butterflies in your stomach, which made your shame even more complex and frustrating. To be pinned by his gaze, it made you feel important, uninhibited. Flittery and excited like a child. It was invigorating.

It was nothing but a bad idea. A dead end. Done and dusted before you should have ever let it begin. 

A breeze rolled through your hair, welcoming and cooling. Ken’s atomic aura lingered behind you. He didn’t bound right up, didn’t affix himself to your side emphatically like he’d been doing all day. 

With a puff and a flick, you heaved yourself away from the curled metal railing, not meeting Ken’s eye. 

You hid your waning cigarette like you were about to get in trouble for it, as if you were back in school, ducking administrators under the bleachers, wrapped in thick lined coats with your friends. How simple things had been back then.

The mention of school brought back countless unsavory memories and left a bad taste in your mouth, flashes of arguments and self-doubt, so you ignored it in favor of waiting for Ken to speak. 

Back then, you weren’t afraid to approach any boy you wanted. It didn’t matter if he was the head of the football team or a shrinking, shy kid in the back of the study hall. Where this fearless bravado originated from, you couldn’t necessarily identify. All you knew was that it had eluded you into adulthood.

You reveled at how much you’ve changed since graduation.

“Willa’s in her green bed-thing,” Ken murmured a decent ways behind you, and you felt instant appreciation for him. After being such a freak and making a fool of yourself, he only kept choosing to help you, looking out for your belongings, the things you cared about. He had no reason to do them for you, but at this point, you didn’t want to question him.

“Thank you, Ken. You didn't have to do that.” You replied softly, picking at a fingernail absentmindedly.

“She got pretty antsy when you left. Ran in circles. Don't worry, (Y/N); once she gets to know me a little better, she’ll trust me in no time. What does she eat?” 

Ken finally appeared at your elbow, voice still gentle, taking in the hanging potted plants, the other identical slim patios of your neighbors that lined the lower units. He seemed nervous to get too close, so he laid his hands down on the railing, blinking rapidly when the sun peeked out from the clouds and shone directly on him like he wasn't used to its intensity. 

If you weren’t walking on eggshells, unable to trust yourself to talk with him normally, you might’ve tipped a warm, toothy smile up at him, allowed yourself to just… enjoy his presence. Express thankfulness for the change to your humdrum everyday life. 

“Lettuce. Different kinds of vegetables. Um… these special pellets I have to order online that take weeks to get here.” And that cost double what they should… the things you do for Willa. If only you could tell her ‘you're welcome.’

“Can you show me how you feed her? When we go back inside?” So hopeful. So unaware. Ken’s request sent shockwaves of emotion through your body. Your heart couldn’t help but do cartwheels over his sweet comments, the uncomplicated way he interacted with you.

“I don't know what to do.”

Ken paused, cocked his head as he furrowed his brow at you. He'd buttoned his jacket back up and taken his boots off. Just standing out here in the real world like he wasn't worried about what would happen to him.

A vein worked in Ken’s throat when he swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing, gilding the beautiful slope of his neck, and you had to tear your eyes away from him, the sweat on your chest collecting rapidly. Too tight, too sweet, too painful to look at.  

Of course he buttoned his jacket up, you scolded yourself. What else was he supposed to do after you humiliated him like that, reduced him to nothing but his looks? If he’d done the same to you, you’d have probably kicked him out.

(Or not.)

“Sure you do. You feed her every day, don't you? Actually, you should let me do it, that way we can build a rapport and –”

Exhaling through your nostrils, you took another long drag from your cigarette, and shook your head, still unable to meet Ken’s pleading eyes as the smoke tendril crept upwards and billowed away. 

It didn't bring you enjoyment to cut him off before he could lose himself on a tangent, but the day’s events had left you no choice; and you had to own up to your behavior, your unwarranted comments that Ken didn't even register as irresponsible.

“That's not what I meant. I know how to feed Willa. This has been a very, very long and… strange day. And it's only three in the afternoon.”

“I wasn't keeping track of the time.” Ken offered kindly.

“I wasn't expecting you to.”

“That smells bad,” Ken upturned his nose at the cigarette as the cloud dissipated over his face, shifting his body away from the direction the smoke carried. “I saw people with those in Venice Beach, but they walked so fast that I didn't get a proper whiff, you know? I'm telling you, everyone in Venice Beach acts like they're late for something.”

“That sounds more like New York to me.” A sneer formed on your face, which Ken noticed immediately. 

“They have those smoke sticks in New York, too?” He questioned innocently, side stepping every wave of tobacco residue that fanned out into the air, engaged in a bizarre dance of bob and weave. 

“They have these everywhere.” You counter, lifting your eyebrows curiously.

Ken scowls. “Yuck. What are they for?”

You mulled over an explanation in your mind, a little grateful to be addressing anything besides your brazenly lustful comment that Ken seemed to have entirely forgotten about. That Ken had glossed right over, not even batting a significant (irresistible) eyelash at. 

“When you breathe them in, it makes your head feel light for a few seconds. It's a pleasant feeling. But over time, they hurt your body and… essentially poison you.” Is this how you'd explain smoking to a child? It would have to do; you were no teacher, no professional, regardless of how hungrily Ken searched your eyes for answers and succinct explanations on everything. 

This information horrifies Ken, who makes to grab the burning cigarette right out of your hand. Pinching it between his fingers like hazardous waste, he flings it as far as he possibly can off the balcony with a grunt of exertion, and you both watch it spin gymnastically before landing a very long distance on a far sidewalk, ashes snowing and dying on the ground. 

It's impossible to delay meeting his gaze after that, so you look right up into his eyes, and Ken thaws under your attention, pupils still raging and wild and heavenly cerulean blue. 

Good arm, you think to yourself moments before breaking into a grin. 

“Sorry (Y/N), but that was for your own good. I can't possibly let you do something that's going to poison you. Not on my watch.” Smug, and a little bewildered, the smile that Ken gives you is flustered and determined.

“You're not even wearing a watch.”

“You don't know that.” Ken lulls, peeking at the sky, trying fastidiously to appear unbothered.

“I'm quite literally looking at both of your wrists.”

“Oh, (Y/N). You bemuse me. You see, a prepared man doesn't need to rely on worldly inventions such as watches. And numbers. He only needs his intuitions. Of which I have so many.” Ken taps intermittently at his temples, still avoiding your direct gaze. Calm and collected. Or, his best imitation of someone relaxed. And educated.

Had anyone else done this, especially on a frustrating and confusing day like today, you’d have probably kneed them in the groin. Maybe hurl a few expletives. Because where would you get off snatching a smoke straight out of someone’s hand? That you'd spent your own money on?

But all you could manage to do was laugh, fold over forwards a little bit with it, and the sound of it eased Ken’s nerves, eventually joining in with you to test the temperature of the conversation. 

“So… are you done being mad at me now?” He scrubbed at the back of his neck.

“I was never mad at you, Ken. I just needed some air, I needed to… clear my head. I really meant it when I said you didn’t do anything wrong.” He leaned over the railing a bit, tapping his foot against the welcome mat you’d placed outside.

“What I said wasn’t – well, it wasn’t nice, and I realized that I haven’t been handling this situation appropriately. That’s what made me feel upset. I was mad at myself.” Confessing this had you feeling twenty pounds lighter. 

“But it made me feel nice,” Ken affirmed, and you had to soldier yourself mentally not to grab him by the shoulders and kiss him or something equally as unwise. “I liked it. Is that so bad?”

In your peripheral you could make out the lines of his flawless blonde hair falling into his eyes as he watched the grass below, the bright orange “For Rent” sign, the pomeranian sunbathing on the second floor end unit. He seemed to be taken with every new sight that he laid his eyes on. So eager to learn, eager to please you, to help release your nerves. 

You considered that you didn't deserve even an ounce of it. His newness. His charisma, the spark in his eyes when you smiled at him. Any of it, there was no reason it should be directed towards you. 

Sobered, you attempted with great willpower not to let this falter your resolve. The best way to handle this was with honesty, and you knew that lying to Ken would only further complicate your already complicated friendship that had been forged only a handful of hours earlier. 

“To be fair, it usually feels nice to be complimented.”

“And that’s something friends do for each other – they say nice things about the people they like. So I think you should stop being so mad.” Ken sustained, lightly biting at his plush bottom lip, swelling under the tension, the exactitude of his discomfort manifesting. 

“Listen. Ken,” you dug your nails into the back of your hand, at the susceptible skin there, leaving imprints as you tried to assert yourself. If Ken noticed the tremble in your exhale as you slowly blinked, he didn’t point it out.

“I’m going to be forthcoming with you, because you seem like someone who… I don’t know. Deserves it. You’re funny, you’re. Fascinating. You’re easy on the eyes, I mean, you're. You’re.”

Ken flushes a deep shade of pink at your words, speechless, the spread of it so clear and unbidden on his lower neck that you have to nearly kick yourself not to look. He's got no idea how to answer you. When Ken finally receives the attention he angles for, it seems that he doesn’t know what to do with it. Stands and sways and stares, waits for the next beat because he isn’t sure of what comes after this, what could possibly be waiting for him on the other side of affection, the words that make him bow his head and drop his listless eyes.

You’re a solid few feet away from Ken, but he smells like sunlight – smells like happiness. His eyelashes dance in the shadows the setting sun casts over him in streaks of oranges and deep reds, painting him like an immortalized work of art.

He glimmers like an angel. Something made from clay. It makes your stomach twist. For some reason you miss your little sister. You miss when your days had structure. When decisions weren’t hard to make, when they weren’t even your responsibility. 

When you were only a child, and being alive didn’t sting. 

When none of this was your job. It was only dusk and popsicles, running until your ankles scraped against your shoes so bad they bled. When it was just sidewalk chalk and trading cards and homemade dinner. Homework and awful bathroom haircuts. Long walks and skinned knees.

Not a single part of you had ever felt ready to be an adult, and it was hitting you outside on your balcony, washing over you in disconcerting waves that Ken couldn’t read, couldn’t make sense of.

“You don’t know me that well. And. We only just met today. You know? So, what I’m trying to say is, there’s a lot you don’t know about me, about… what I’ve been through and. What I’m looking for. Out of life, out of. Relationships, friends, things like that. What I want to become. And until this morning, I hadn’t really been that inspired to evaluate any of it. My days are essentially just this, every week over and over, exactly like you’ve seen. I work at the library. I say hi to Pat. I rent a magazine that I forget about and then return without even having picked it up or read it, like some loser. I feed my guinea pig. I smoke and then sit out here, watch my neighbors. It’s just.” 

Your throat feels constricted, fighting against twangs of distressed emotion that bubble up and cradle within you, threatening to release at any moment. Threaten to betray you. You’re reticent to accept that any display of weakness could turn Ken off.

Could have him turning tail and going back to… wherever it was he said he came from. Barbieland? Jesus, what a day.

Since when had you become such a sap? So ready to let it all out over the smallest event, something as mundane as meeting someone who expressed interest in you?

Ken wasn’t just someone, you scolded yourself. Wasn’t just some guy you’d bump into at a bar, someone you’d match with on a dating app or strut up to at a baseball game drunkenly and emboldened with false courage. He couldn’t fit into a box of superlatives. Refused to be defined so easily.

He didn’t even have a heartbeat.

It’s too much out here, and you want to cry. Want so desperately to cry. To let it out, to experience the way you’d feel in front of someone who would never judge you for it. Who probably doesn’t even know what crying or sorrow or regret or loneliness feels like.

But Ken stills himself and listens. Fiddles with his hands like he’s never been bored before and listens to every word, hangs on them like he’s getting something out of this, like he needs to listen to a human being speak about what it feels like to be a human being. Like this is valuable information to him.

He’s so beautiful and bright and burning like the sun and he listens to all of it.

“It would be the easy thing to just keep you here. I know you have no idea what I’m talking about. I’m sorry about that. It would be so easy to. Accept this, accept you and. Not even question it. I mean, Jesus. You came out of nowhere. Introduced yourself to me. Not afraid of anything. You didn’t even know who I was, not really. And the easy thing would be for me to take you – take it. Not even. Not even worrying about what it said about me to do that.”

Your throat is rubbed raw, the honest and vulnerable tears tugging at your eyes, but you can’t do that right now. Don't want to turn over and show your dark, clingy underbelly to Ken when he's only just met you and only thinks shining, sweet things about you, like you could never be capable of letting him down.

Not when it matters, when someone is pegging you as their lifeline, their sole source of connecting themselves to humanity.

Ken just squeezes his pink, worry-chewed lips into a thin line and continues to listen. He has nowhere else to be. Why would he? He’s pale and shining and gorgeous.

Swells of his arms filling with the afternoon sun. There’s nowhere else he wants to be but right here, barefoot and open and accepting of what you need to get off your chest, like there’s the perfect space right in his heart to fit it all in, to understand it even if he’s struggling to get what you mean. 

“I don’t know. I’m sorry. I think that there’s. I think there’s something about you that makes me want to be careless. And that’s not like me, at least not right now.”

“But I don’t feel careless when I’m with you.” Ken states, like it’s easy, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Something breaks deep inside you, it's thick and presumptuous, and you feel pressure thickening in the base of your gut, like you might puke or scream or maybe a combination of both.

“I’ve been careless of you. You might not realize it, but. I have been. It’s not cool. I don’t feel that I’m doing the right thing.” 

“Well. What can we do that will make this better?” The question that’s been dancing on his lips, that’s been tearing him asunder finally comes to light. 

You wring your hands in front of you, already craving another cigarette, craving liquor, craving an out from this. The urge to scrape something sharp against the meat of your arm comes to you. You ignore it. Swallowing down the urge to punish yourself.

It’ll be alright. Just approach this logically. Do the right thing.

Do the right thing.

And don’t mess it up.

“I think I would feel better if you went back to where you came from.” 

The words smolder between the two of you, more fiery and loaded than you intended, and Ken bristles at your words. Expecting rejection. Waiting for a slap to the face.

"You want me to leave?"

“Hold on. Not like that, I mean. I think I would feel better if you went back to… you know.”

“Barbieland.” Ken states, and it’s too small, it’s puny. It’s not how you want him to sound. So beaten down and insecure.

“Right. And I think you should really consider whether or not you want this. Living in the real world. Because it’s tough, and. Ken, it’s difficult, it’ll rip you apart from the inside out. People are unpredictable. They can be loving and gentle, but… not every moment you spend here will be fun. Not every friend you make here will have your best interest at heart. They’ll take advantage of you and bleed you for what you’re worth. They’ll toss you around and spit you out and not think anything of it.”

The twirling light in his pupils dies out then, fizzles in a way that's tangible, like you could reach out and touch it to feel how real it is. Ken seems to not understand what you’re saying, but stares at you still, picking at the ends of his sleeves with great effort.

"Is it... you're sure it's not me? Because (Y/N), If I did something, I hope you know you can feel free to let me know. I won't get upset." It twinges at your insides. Makes you clench and tongue at the roof of your mouth. There isn't anything that gets past Ken, is there?

"No, that's. That's not it."

"Okay."

“I’m not saying I will do all of that to you.” You turn then to face him, waving your hand in general as if summarizing everything you'd just said, fighting the instinct to pull another cigarette out of your purse, to hide from what you’re feeling. The truth you need to communicate to him so real and regrettable and honest.

“I just want you to gather as much information as you can before you decide this for yourself. Your life. I don’t know what it was like for you before. Maybe. I don’t know. Maybe our world seems like a sanctuary compared to where you’re from. Maybe it seems like a hellhole.”

Ken doesn’t say anything, just watches your every move intensely, watches your back as it contracts and spreads out with anxiety. Working to pick the right words, the intricacies of what you wish you could articulate.

“But that’s how it is here. I think you should be aware of what you’re getting into. I don’t have all the answers and I need you to understand that. I’m not perfect. I’m not. Not… what you probably think I am. But if you speak with your friends, and others who can build on what I’m telling you, and after everything you still want to come back, I promise you will have a place here, I promise that you can stay with me and that. That I’ll do my very best to show you the ropes and show you everything I have learned.” 

Ken appears deep in thought, tendering his hands fretfully, doesn’t speak for a moment. When the silence continues for minutes, you wonder if he’s given up entirely on speech. 

But then he finally announces, with a measure of confidence you’ve never seen before, “Okay. I will accept this ultimatum, (Y/N). I will go back to Barbieland and ask all the Kens and Barbies what they know about the real world. And when I come back, I can even ask Barbie what she thinks. If she thinks I can do it.”

There’s a tepid, unsure quiver to Ken’s voice when he says this, stumbling over his words like they weren’t ready to come out, not yet. “But you should know something about me, too.”

“What’s that?” You reply, stomach churning with a wistfulness, an aching that isn’t familiar. Might not even be yours to feel.

“When I come back, I want to see you smile. I want you to show me your neighborhood. And what Willa eats. There’s no way I could forget about her. Do you accept my terms?” Somehow you get the impression that Ken isn’t talking about your guinea pig – not entirely, not all the way.

“Yes. I accept. I promise.”

“Promise?” Ken sticks his thin, golden hand out to clutch onto yours, and like it’s burial rites or heartfelt wedding ceremony vows or something precariously in between, and you reach your hand out right back and shake on it. It's real now. Set in stone. Something Ken won’t soon forget. Would never back down on.

"Yes, Ken. Yes."

When he leaves your apartment, you’re reeling, basically unable to look at Willa, the tiny living thing Ken’s connected with so deeply. She sniffs at the air like she's missing something. It hurts. Pathetically, you find it difficult to open your laptop and answer another email. To pretend to be sociable. Capable.

Ken doesn't ask for the address to your apartment, doesn't ask for your phone number, your last name or anything. He seems to believe that he can find his way back to you on instinct and willpower alone.

You think of Ken asking you about bananas of all things. Caring so much about your wellbeing that he threw away your cigarette. An otherwise complete stranger, so blisteringly entrancing that it makes you numb.

Dejectedly, you curl up on your couch, inhaling the smell of Ken so present and dominant in your apartment, that fresh smell, and you bite your fist with a sharp gasp. Shutting your eyes with extreme force, you fight the tears that spill unceremoniously down your tired, tired face, confused and spun around from the inside out.

[your-divine-ribs]

Bonfire Night (Dad Van)

Words: 1.8k

November’s a way off but I still have a few Dad Van headcanons to post // What could possibly go wrong if Van and Larry are in charge of the fireworks at your family bonfire party?

Dad Van Masterlist Main Masterlist

💥 It's a family tradition that you visit a local fireworks display every year on Bonfire Night, you've been doing it every year since Grace was born.

💥 This year however, Van decides that you should change things up. "Reckon we could put on just as a good a display at home. What d'ya reckon love?"

💥 "I don't know about that..." you scrunch up your face in disagreement. "Fireworks cost a fortune and at least it's safe for the kids going to a public one."

💥 "I can do safe!" He argues whilst you scoff and remind him why you've got a mini fire extinguisher under your kitchen sink. You purchased it after he'd nearly set your stove on fire the year before in an unfortunate egg frying incident.

💥 "Go on love, I'll make it really special... and extra-safe, I promise ya! It'll be bigger and better than that boring display we usually go to... and the neighbour's one too."

💥 That explains things.

💥 "Oh right, that's what it is then is it? You're in competition with next-door again are you?" You smirk at him teasingly whilst he hotly protests.

💥 "Nah it's not that I swear! But ya know, Craig was going on about buying this 40 shot exploding rocket thing online for a hundred quid. He says it's even better than the biggest ones at the display. Dead smug about it he was!"

💥 You roll your eyes but there's little point in trying to argue with Van. He's so stubborn when he gets an idea in his head it's pointless trying to talk him out of it.

💥 Your kids are beyond excited about the bonfire party, and Van's been hyping it up at every chance he gets. Larry's involved now too which raises concerns but you decide to give the lads the benefit of the doubt.

💥 "Daddy says we're going to have bigger rockets than NASA!" Grace squeals with excitement to anyone who'll listen. Before you know it all the mums on the school playground are sidling up to you, fishing for an invite. It's the talk of the town in no time.

💥 "Van... please tell me you're only buying fireworks that are suitable to use in a back garden," you worry as Van quickly snaps the laptop shut as you try to peer at the screen to see what he's purchasing.

💥 "Don't worry babe, it's all under control," he replies, but you don't miss the shifty glances him and Larry exchange.

💥 "I've got loads of experience Y/N," Larry pipes up. "Steve even put me in charge of health and safety on the last tour."

💥 This does absolutely nothing to quell your anxieties.

💥 "Daddy go BOOM!" Leo giggles, clapping his hands in delight as Van jumps up on the sofa, riling up the kids even further.

💥 "That's what I'm worried about," you groan, shaking your head in consternation.

💥 Over the next week you take delivery of several mysterious parcels which Van whisks away immediately before you have a chance to open them.

💥 For saying he hardly ever sets foot in the garden shed apart from to smoke a sneaky spliff away from the kids, him and Larry have practically set up residence in there. You've been banned from going in whilst they plot in private.

💥 Grace wants to make a guy to put on the bonfire out of Van's old clothes but he won't part with anything, even his old shirts with holes and rips in.

💥 "You're not burning my old stage gear Gracie, it's got sentimental value. Wore this shirt the first time we played Reading." He holds up what resembles a black rag.

💥 "But mummy says you need a wardrobe refresh!" Grace pouts, making a grab for the shirt which Van holds up out of reach.

💥 "Your mum doesn't know what's she's talking about, that's a bit of rock 'n' roll history there!" He counters, smirking at you.

💥 November 5th rolls around and the excitement in the McCann household is palpable. Despite your worries you can't deny how infectious it is and you get swept along with the preparations.

💥 You prepare a feast of hot dogs and burgers and jacket potatoes and there's marshmallows to toast on the bonfire. Everyone's in great spirits.

💥 You and the kids get wrapped up warm in your big winter coats, snuggly scarves and hats whilst the lads insist on braving the cold coat-less. It's a beautiful clear night and the stars are twinkling like diamonds and there's a cold nip in the air that paints little noses and cheeks pink.

💥 Van's eager to get stuck right into the main event and begin firing up the big rockets straight away but you pull rank and declare that you're starting off small, producing a pack of sparklers which you start handing around. "You can't have a bonfire party without sparklers!"

💥 "Sparklers?" Van huffs, turning up his nose, but you remind him that this is Leo's first bonfire night and he might get scared by the loud explosions that'll follow later on.

💥 "Think of everything don't I love?" He grins, placing a big set of ear defenders on your little boy.

💥 For saying Van was happy to dismiss the sparklers he certainly seems to be enjoying himself now, him and Larry spelling out swear words to each other with the fiery sticks in the darkness.

💥 "F for fish... U for umbrella... C for cat..." Grace calls out as she watches them, until you realise what she's spelling and you quickly distract her by stepping in front of the boys whilst drawing some pretty star shapes.

💥 "You're in the way mummy," Grace complains, trying to peer around you. "Daddy and Uncle Larry are helping me with my phonics!" You glare at the boys who are sniggering like naughty little children.

💥 As soon as the proper fireworks start being lit you attract the attention of your next door neighbour who seems to be matching Van and Larry's efforts by letting off progressively bigger and louder rockets as the night goes on.

💥 There's definitely some male posturing going on over the garden fence as the lads compete, bragging about how much they've spent on pyrotechnics and the decibels of the explosions.

💥 You can't deny they're impressive though. There's plenty of "oohhs" and "aahhs" as the night sky is filled with glittery showers of silver and gold and cascades of shimmering reds and greens.

💥 Leo's not phased at all by the deafening bangs and pops, screeching in delight as he points and claps. Grace is utterly mesmerised, speechless for once as she gazes upwards, mouth hanging open in awe.

💥 It's all going so well, a minor disaster quickly averted when the catherine wheel Van attached to the fence flies off on to the grass but Larry's there to quickly douse it with a bucket of water he has on standby.

💥 The lads seem to have it all in hand. Maybe you were too quick to judge. You feel a swell of pride and affection for your husband and a tiny smattering of guilt for ever doubting him.

💥 "It's been amazing," you tell him as you nuzzle up behind him, wrapping your hands around his waist. "The kids have had a great time and I have too. We should do this every year."

💥 He grabs hold of your hand, pulling you around so he can tuck you tight into his side, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. "Told ya I could pull it off didn't I? But it's not over yet... we're saving the best for last. Just you wait till ya see this last one!"

💥 "You mean there's more?" You gasp, wondering how they can top an already sensational display.

💥 His eyes are sparkling with excitement as he nods enthusiastically, then he's trudging towards the shed to emerge a few seconds later holding a huge box. You can just make out the word "ARMAGEDDON" splayed across the side in the torchlight.

💥 "Van honey, are you sure that one's safe?" You call, stooping to pick up Leo and grabbing Grace's hand, backing up towards the house, suddenly nervous.

💥 "It's all under control love!"

💥 Those are the last words you hear before an almighty thunderous cacophony fills the air and a dozen huge bursts of glittering trails shoot up from the ground like heat-seeking missiles.

💥 They don't all shoot upwards though. Several fly off at random angles, a fiery projectile heading straight for your neighbour's patio doors and another for your garden shed and you scream out in shock as it smashes clean through the window.

💥 "Fuckin' 'ell get the kids inside... QUICK!" Van cries, running down the garden at full pelt with Larry hot on his heels.

💥 All hell breaks loose as you all sprint up the garden amidst a shower of sparks and the loudest ear-splitting screeches that you've ever heard. It feels like your garden's under siege and you're fleeing a war zone.

💥 You watch on from the safety of your house as all the other fireworks Van and Larry have been stockpiling in the shed catch alight and start to explode all at once. Your poor garden shed doesn't stand a chance, flames quickly taking hold and licking up hungrily into the night.

💥 "Look what you've done!" You fume at Van who's staring down the garden slack-jawed, eyebrows singed off with a blackened face. Apologies tumble from him quickly whilst Larry stands frozen in shock.

💥 "I'm so sorry love, this wasn't supposed to happen. I'll buy ya a new shed I promise!"

💥 "The shed's replaceable but you and the kids aren't!" You admonish him, grabbing your phone to call 999. Van's offering to battle the blaze himself with your kitchen fire extinguisher but you refuse to let him go back out there.

💥 The excitement of having real-life fire-fighters at your home soon overshadows the panic and the kids are beside themselves watching them putting out the flames.

💥 "Mummy I want to be a fire-fighter when I grow up now, being a singer's boring!" Grace announces.

💥 Van and Larry get a strict telling off for their irresponsible use of fireworks in a family garden and you've never seen him so apologetic and subdued. Then one of the firefighters recognises him as he's a huge Catfish fan and the stern lecture turns into an impromptu photo-shoot with Van signing autographs for the whole squad.

💥 Grace gets a tour of the fire engine and Leo gets to sit in the driver's seat whilst he proudly wears a helmet. All of a sudden your husband's the hero of the hour despite the carnage he's caused and he's loving it.

💥 "I swear you'd fall into shit and still come up smelling of roses!" You laugh, finally seeing the funny side now you've calmed down and everyone's safe.

💥 "At least it'll be a night to remember!" Van chuckles, taking you into his arms. "And I promise I'll never do anything like that again. I love ya babe... you and the kids are my whole world."

[dizaryswrites]

I have a confession to make!

I don’t know how obvious it is, but I actually haven’t read any comics 😅 I know, I know haha, it’s just I haven’t had the time! Luckily, I mostly follow blogs that I know are comic readers so I know what’s fanon and canon mostly. But since I will have free time in the summer, I was wondering if you have any recommendations on what to read and where to start?

Oh man I WISH I could be one of those blogs who snaps out the long scroll that just rolls down the hallway with a concise cross referenced list of top hits from every era and where to start with each character! But I am a book hoarder with not enough time on my hands so I haven't even read half of what I have, let alone all the back issues 😅

Here's some stuff that I really enjoyed as a new-to-comics-and-DC reader and in general (in mostly chronological order because that's how I arrange my comic books):

Batman: Dark Victory

I really enjoyed the mystery and early Batman days, plus Dick Grayson's debut! He is a delight. I didn't read Long Halloween which comes before this so I missed some context but I picked it up easy enough (also according to some reviews the mystery can be repetitive if you have read Long Halloween sooo win for me ig?)

Robin: Year One

I am determined to read this one soon. I've heard great things about it though so it's being added

Batman: Prodigal

I read this without reading a single page of Knightfall because I was getting interested in Nightwing and this was the earliest book that my library had available (I have given up on a chronological reading order since those early foolish days). I knew nothing and still really enjoyed Dick!Bats and Robin!Tim together. I need to reread this soon

Formerly Known as the Justice League

A limited run, 6 issues I think. Honestly I should just say Justice League International in general but I started with this mini for Booster Gold and Blue Beetle after seeing some funny panels online and I fell in love with that whole cast of losers (affectionate). It's not BatFam but so so fun to read (and JLI has some really poignant moments too)

Young Justice: A League of Their Own

SO FUN. Tim and friends dealing with just ridiculous scenarios LOL I'm only halfway through but it's great

Batman: Hush

I haven't read a lot of just Batman titles but I enjoyed Hush. It had some good character moments for Bruce that helped me understand the way he thinks a little more. I also hear Bruce Wayne: Murder/Fugitive is very very good but I haven't gotten around to it yet (a running theme)

Batgirl: Point Blank

Cass is a treat. This was the first volume I found of her's, haven't read the others yet, but even lacking context I really enjoyed her as the main character and her interactions with Steph, Babs, and Bruce.

Teen Titans (Geoff Johns)

This was one of the first series I started reading and it was a good intro for me, a completely new DC fan. It's Tim and his friends but more serious than YJ. I've read vol 1-2 and part of 3

Under The Red Hood

Classic for good reason. I haven't finished it yet (teehee) but the first half has been entertaining. Jason has had some um... interesting writing in his time. But I really enjoy the way he's written here. It's a good baseline imo. I've heard Lost Days is also good

Nightwing (Tomasi run)

I love Tomasi and this run was a lot of fun. Dick is funny while not losing his serious, capable edge, he interacts with people in his circles, and has some interesting introspection moments. There's a weird part of the plot about midway that definitely uses bad Asian stereotypes which is so disappointing. But after that it gets normal again 😅

Batman & Robin

This comes right after Tomasi's run and it's a mixed bag for me. It's definitely interesting seeing Dick and Damian learning to work together but I was still new to DC with little context for things and was also *so* put off by the art style that I don't remember it well. But I thought I'd add it anyway since it's an iconic moment for Dick!Bats

Batman and Robin (Tomasi)

I adore Bruce and Damian struggling together to discover what being father and son looks like for them. I adore Damian having growth. That's volumes 1-3. 4 is post Damian's death (and damn issue 1 is a well written look at grief), I haven't read 5 or beyond yet.

Nightwing (Rebirth)

The first Nightwing title I read. Looking back, the characterization is a bit weak in some areas, doesn't quite match how he's written in older runs, but it had good moments and kept me entertained. Especially!!! In vol 3 with Humphries's Judge arc

For more current runs, I'm really enjoying World's Finest. Waid's writing is good and Mora's art is just *cartoon heart eyes*. Bats, Supes, and teenage Dick Grayson are a fun trio. Amid other runs that had me tearing my hair out in disappointment or frustration, WF is a breath of fresh air.

Titans United: Bloodpact is a 6 issue limited that was also a really nice read. It's Dick's Titans but Tim is there too and I enjoyed everyone's writing.

The Human Target (Tom King) but honestly I was just losing my mind over Greg Smallwood's art and paneling the entire time. A masterpiece. I want to frame every page. I cheered when he posted inspiration threads on Twitter.

Superman's Pal, Jimmy Olsen

It's not Batfam but hear me out!!!! This comic had some of the sweetest moments between Supes and Jimmy and I wanted to grab literally anybody by the shoulders and shake them until they looked at the Lois, Clark, & Jimmy in the helicopter panel and GOT IT!!! Also it is so delightfully wacky and funny, I was genuinely laughing out loud. Steve's Lieber's art is the perfect pairing with Matt Fraction's writing.

AND SPEAKING OF!

This isn't DC at all but it's the series that made me (and so many others) really love comics and their storytelling potential. Matt Fraction's Hawkeye run, volumes 1-4. Between his writing and David Aja's artwork and color theory (and Steve Lieber's guest issue that literally gut punched me and changed how I saw later parts of the story, it was never just a filler issue to me, Steve) you get a great story that says so much with so little (in the best way) and is a visual treat as well. Chef's kiss.

Some other non-DC comics I really enjoyed are Die (imagine Jumanji but D&D and novels and oh look the consequence of your actions has grown up), Something is Killing the Children Vol. 1 (I am not a horror girly but I really enjoyed this, in no small part because of Dell'edera's art), Eight Billion Genies (the world population hits 8 billion and now everyone gets a genie, what could go possibly wrong), and Paper Girls which I'm about 2/3 through (picture stranger things but with time travel, spaceships?, and oh shit is future me lying??)

Damn, I guess I really did have a scroll's worth. 😭 Anyway, my recommendation for where to start with this list is...what does your library have available? Don't forget about the Hoopla app too, that's where I read some of these digitally. Or the used bookstore which is where I got 90% of my comics from.

But seriously! Just pick whatever sounds the most fun or has the character(s) you're the most interested in and go from there. Skip around on the timeline or go in chronological order. Whatever floats your boat! I think that's the really unique thing about comics. Plus if you can't figure out the context of what you're missing or what is happening simultaneously (because writers & editorial used to care a little more) you can do a quick google or (and I wish I had this with Batgirl) @cephalog0d has a pinned timeline master list. Incredible.

[pumpumdemsugah]

Sorry I hate ' essays ' like that

It always just feels like they cobbled together every popular criticism of anything online that specifically mentions women and make sure you say intersectional but nothing that specific.

#Female rage isn't what got Black men lynched but cold hard white supremacy. We need to recentre white supremacy in these discussions. Do you think those people believed what they were actually saying all the time? They didn't give a fuck if that Black man did or didn't do shit. They needed a pretense for horrific torture and murder. They were superior ( apparently) so could do what they wanted. They wanted blood, humiliation and to use fear to control Black people and all parts of the white community were enthusiastic participants to make that happen. The stereotype of the pure innocent white woman doesn't work if there's no Black threat or animalistic opposite. White supremacy was essential.

This can be said about literally any oppression. It doesn't stop it from being a facet of that oppression.

???? Is this a real criticism? Why limit it to women, because this is specifically about women, that's how talking about a group of people works. Did anyone make these claims ? Why are we strawmanning a glib hashtag as if it was some movement that started out deeper than women online mentioning women's rage ? We can't do female rage because other people are oppressed. Sorry you're dumb

I was half hoping maybe this would be an exploration ( no I wasn't lol this was exactly as swallow as I'd expect but let me continue to lie lol) about how and what anger means for women. How anger is weaponised against black women in particular and how useful rage is and isnt for us but I still think Black women should be allowed full and human representation including rage. A criticism I have of #femalerage is it's often women being denigrated first and then she snaps. We don't actually have that many depictions of female psychopathy or killing in cold blood. Women literally do not talk as much as men in film and that's why so many women online have latched onto any crumb of anger, there isn't much out there. A lot of the female characters that are tagged #female rage are murdered, beaten and their violence is never narratively condoned. It ends up reinforcing in the ideal that #female rage is bad because they're punished for it anyway.

A lot of misogyny is centred on the body, and ideas of inferiority around women's body - that's not gender essentialism. That's an important way misogyny functions so can we all stop playing dumb about this? Large and I mean large chunks of Black feminism is very literary about the body but none of you read enough to even know that but you love Black feminist somehow even though a lot of black feminist thought is antithetical to this idea.

Nahh some of you just need to admit your fundamental problem is shit being about women ( or finding this cringe ) because none of these criticisms were particularly deep or argued convincingly. It relied on the audience being exposed to certain talking points before so filling in the blanks to make up for how swallow that was and expecting agreement because the right combination of phrases in buzzwords were mentioned.

I'm uncomfortable when women are mentioned hottake number 975,899