#He always shows up in the Fade to speak and interact

[the-tropes-are-hungry]

I'm basically rewriting Hearthkeeper from the original Echoes of Arlathan fic from 2016 and that means I've made a lot of changes. But now I've fallen into a small re-read of parts of Disgrace and I'm. Hmm. I'm. Thinking. Connor has always showed up in Echoes/Hearthkeeper during the ritual to cure tranquility. But. With Veilguard. I'm thinking a thought. What if he shows up in person

[khaylin27]

So Long, London

pairing: carlos sainz x norris reader; lando norris x sister reader; a teaser of oscar piastri x reader hehe

series: the tortured poets department

synopsis: when carlos joined mclaren, it was easy for y/n norris to fall in love with him. throughout 2020 to 2023 y/n norris could see that carlos was drifting away from her. this could be due to carlos' suggested depression after leaving mclaren to go to ferrari, him being unready for marriage, and his infidelity towards in their relationship.

warnings: infidelity; depression; mentions of sex; one sided relationship; also let’s pretend charles was with alexandra in 2021 to now

author's note: this is literally my favorite song from the album. it describes a time in my life where i put so much into a relationship but they kept drifting away. hope you guys like it 🥹

2020

I saw in my mind fairy lights through the mist I kept calm and carried the weight of the rift Pulled him in tighter each time he was drifting away

It was so easy to love and be in a relationship with your brother's team mate, Carlos Sainz. But once the pandemic hit, you saw the spark of your relationship fade slowly.

"No quiero estar en McLaren más hermosa." I don't want to be in McLaren anymore beautiful. Carlos tells you as he shows you the contract Ferrari sent him for 2021 to 2023.

During the pandemic, you and Carlos were sharing an apartment together in London. He would teach you Spanish so that he can speak to you in his native language. "I thought you loved being in McLaren babe? What would my brother say if you leave?"

"There's no 'if' hermosa. I don't care what your brother says because he was on board with Zack on putting Daniel in my seat for next year." Carlos says angry because you brought up your brother. They've had a great relationship throughout the 2019 to 2020 seasons, but once Lando sided with Zach on putting Daniel in Carlos' seat their friendship tore apart. "My decision is final. I'm going to Ferrari whether anyone likes it or not."

You kept calm and walked to where Carlos was to give him a tight hug. "If it makes you happy babe, I'm with you on this one." He didn't hug you back the same way you hugged him.

You didn't know it at the time but this was the first sign that Carlos was drifting away.

2021

My spine split from carrying us up the hill Wet through my clothes, weary bones caught the chill I stopped trying to make him laugh Stopped trying to drill the safe

Once the 2021 F1 season started and covid regulations lifted, you thought your relationship would get better since Carlos joined Ferrari but it didn't. Ferrari kept him busy with back to back events that you weren't invited to because of your connection with McLaren.

When Carlos would come home from these events, drunk and not mentally there. You knew he would drink himself away due to the depression he was going through after leaving McLaren. You would try to keep the relationship alive by having sex with him. Even though it did keep your sexual relationship somewhat alive, it felt like your spine was going to split from carrying your relationship alive.

Ferrari did invite you to an event after you complained to Alexandra (let's pretend Charles was with her during this time) one time during a Grand Prix weekend. It was a different atmosphere than what you were used to at McLaren. You felt wet through your clothes and chill through your weary bones during the event.

You and Carlos were sitting in a booth with Charles and Alexandra. You smiled at Charles and Alexandra's interactions together. She would always make Charles laugh and it made you miss when you used to do that with Carlos. Making Carlos laugh made it feel safe in your relationship with him, but not anymore.

I didn't opt in to be your odd man out I founded the club she's heard great things about I left all I knew, you left me at the house by the Heath

The event that Ferrari was hosting was in a club in Monaco. Carlos left your booth to get a 'drink' while you were talking with Alexandra and Charles.

"So Y/N how do you like the event?" Charles yells through the loud music.

"It's okay I guess. It's different than McLaren events." You say uncomfortable. McLaren was like home to you, they were family. You left all that to be with Carlos and follow his dreams. Yet you both aren’t happy with leaving McLaren.

Alexandra can tell that you were uncomfortable with the question. "Why don't we go to the bar Y/N?" You nod at her question as she takes your hand to walk together to the bar.

Once you arrive at the bar, Alexandra orders drinks for both of you but you hear something that was interesting. "Girl, I just had the best sex with that one Ferrari driver."

It was two girls that got invited to do press for this event. The other girl asks "Oh my god. Which one?"

"The Spanish one! Let me tell you, he's very good with his hands." You start tearing up as she continues to explain what your boyfriend did to her. It was things that he never did to you. "He told me that he hasn't had sex like that in months."

Alexandra looks at you with the drinks in her hands. She notices the tears going down your face and ruining your makeup. "Y/N are you okay?"

"No, I'm not." You say politely as you wipe your tears. "Is it possible for you to call an uber for me? I want to go home."

Alexandra nods and goes on her phone to reserve you an uber. While she was doing that you were breaking down crying on the bar counter.

I stopped CPR, after all it's no use The spirit was gone, we would never come to And I'm pissed off you let me give you all that youth for free

Hours after you got home from the event by yourself, Carlos comes home late. Usually you would have sex as soon as he got home to keep your relationship alive, but it's no use. Why would you put so much into him if the spirit he had for you was gone?

"Hermosa, beautiful can we have sex?" He asks drunkenly while your body was turned away from him. "Por favor." please

"No Carlos." You say as you try to go back to sleep.

"Why not hermosa? beautiful You looked so pretty in that dress you wore?" He peppers your arm and back with kisses trying to get you in the mood for sex.

"Carlos stop. I'm pissed off at you right now." You sit up and look at him. You can tell he was drunk because he didn't care that you were crying. "I'm pissed off that I spent so much of my youth on you. We left the only place that we were happy at thinking it was better for you but it wasn’t. Only for you to hookup with a whore at an event while I was there. What happens when I’m not there? Is that why Ferrari doesn’t invite me to anything??"

"I'm sorry hermosa. beautiful It’s just been emotionally draining after the past couple of months." He hugs you.

"I know it's been but you're not helping if you keep doing this." As you wipe your tears you then add. "I thought this move would be better for both of us. Remember how we dreamed of getting married and starting a family?"

"That's not my dream Y/N, that's your dream. My dream is to be World Champion and I won't let any distractions get in my way." It was like a slap in the face when Carlos told you this. All your life you've always wanted a husband and to start a family. You thought it would be with Carlos but it would be a 'distraction in getting World Champion.'

"Goodnight hermosa beautiful Te amo I love you" he says as he hugs you and falls asleep.

And you say I abandoned the ship But I was going down with it My white knuckle dying grip Holding tight to your quiet resentment 

Ever since the night of the Ferrari event, you haven’t been to any Ferrari events or even to the Ferrari garages. Instead you’ve been hanging out with your brother in the McLaren garage.

It was 2021 of the Russian Grand Prix, Lando had spun and grazed the wall on one of his laps that caused him to not win the Russian Grand Prix.

Once Lando gets back into the garage and gets out of his car, you can see the tears in his eyes. “It’s okay little bro.” He pulls you into a tight. You knew that this was race was emotionally draining on him.

“If I just pitted and changed my tires I would’ve won.” He continues to cry.

“There’s nothing you could’ve done Lan. I just thank god you’re okay and nothing happened to you.” You hug him tighter.

“Thank you for being here Y/N.” He says as he pulls away from hugging you. As you both wipe your tears, he looks at the screen and sees Carlos on the podium. “You should go and be with Carlos. At least get to celebrate with him.”

“It’s okay. I’ll wait until he’s done to celebrate with him.” You give him a fake smile in hopes that he doesn’t see that you’re faking it.

Little did you know, you weren’t going to be celebrating with Carlos tonight.

“Why the hell weren’t you with me celebrating my win?” Carlos yells at you while you’re sitting on the couch just staring at him.

“Didn’t think you needed me since that whore was wrapped around you.” You saw the photos that F1 gossip accounts were posting on Twitter.

Carlos looks at you with frustration. “I’m sorry hermosa beautiful but I needed to let off the excitement .” You role your eyes at his response.

“‘Let off the excitement’ you have a girlfriend at home waiting for you.” You explain to him.

“Well you should’ve been around me instead of that girl.” He says putting the blame back on you.

“I was taking care of my brother. Your best friend that could’ve won today but didn’t. At least try to comfort your best friend instead of having whores going around you.”

“I swear ever since that night, you’ve just abandoned me and everything we’ve built.”

You laugh at what Carlos says, “you’re saying I’ve abandoned you and everything we’ve built. Oh honey, I’m just going down with it.”

Your knuckles are turning white as you’re clenching the pillow so you don’t cry in front of this man. “I’m leaving to London to be with Lando. Fix whatever is going on with you to fix this relationship.” You knew deep down that Carlos resented you for what you said that night.

My friends said it isn't right to be scared Every day of a love affair Every breath feels like rarest air When you're not sure if he wants to be there

Once your plane landed in London, Lando was waiting for you at the arrival terminal. After you got your bags and got in his car you explained to him what’s been going on with Carlos for the past two years after he left McLaren.

“That’s not healthy Y/N and you’ve been going through this for two years now?” Lando asks you and you just nod in silence.

“It feels like every day is a love affair. Every breath I took around him feels like rarest air.” You try so hard not to cry in front of your little brother right now but the tears keep pouring. “I’m not even sure if he wants to be in this relationship. It broke my heart when he said he didn't want to get married or start a family because it would be a 'distraction'”

Lando hugs you and more tears start pouring out. “It’s okay Y/N. You don’t always have to be strong for me.”

“I know, but you guys were very close and I don’t want to ruin your friendship with him.” You explain the reason why you didn’t tell him for so long.

“Whether we’re friends or not, he shouldn’t make you feel like that. It isn’t right to be scared in a relationship.” You hug him tighter as the tears keep pouring down.

“I know, but I love him.”

2022

You swore that you loved me but where were the clues? I died on the altar waiting for the proof You sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days

After months of you living in London with Lando, Carlos was desperate to have you back. During the 2022 season, you decided to go back with Carlos only if Carlos marries you. Carlos agreed and you both started planning the wedding.

You two decided to plan the wedding in Spain at the end of July during the mandatory summer break. The wedding was going to be beautiful. All of your family, friends, and colleagues would be invited to the big wedding. Sadly, you wouldn't be getting married.

As you're walking down the aisle with your father, you look ahead and see that Carlos wasn't standing at the alter. "Where is Carlos?" Your father asks Carlos Sr. and Reyes, Carlos' parents.

You look at Lando, who was Carlos' best man. "Lando please be honest with me. Where is Carlos?"

"He needed to talk to his cousin, just pre wedding jitters I think." He smiles at you trying to make you feel okay but deep down you knew.

"Carlos is not coming back." Caco, Carlos' cousin comes up to you and the family.

"¿Qué quieres decir con que no volverá? what do you mean he's not coming back" Carlos Senior asks his nephew.

"I tried to keep him here but he wanted to leave." Caco looks at you with sad eyes. "Carlos told me to give you this." It was a note that Carlos hand wrote for you.

To Y/N,

I'm sorry for leaving you on the altar waiting for me. I couldn't get married and get distracted from the dreams I truly wanted. I wish I could do this in a better way and not put you through so much pain. So long Y/N, we had a good run. I know I'm not the one for you hermosa beautiful.

Love, Carlos

You breakdown once you finish reading his note. He 'loved' you but where was the clues? He left you on the altar waiting for the proof. He sacrificed your relationship and the dreams you wanted to achieve together so that he could be World Champion.

2023

And I'm just getting color back into my face I'm just mad as hell cause I loved this place

It took you awhile to start coming back to the races again. Every time you would think about going to a race to support your brother, all you could think about is Carlos. You loved the races but it made you mad as hell cause you loved Carlos.

Lando invited you to the Las Vegas Grand Prix to celebrate his birthday and to watch him race. At Lando's birthday party, you met his new teammate Oscar Piastri. "Oscar this is my sister, Y/N." Lando introduces Oscar to you before he leaves to dj again.

"Hello Y/N, it's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard great things about you from Lando." He smiles at you.

"Oh really? What did he say?" Now you were intrigued about what Lando says about you behind your back.

"For one, he didn't tell me that you were so beautiful." You blush at Oscar's compliment. "But he does tell me how much he misses you being around the paddock. He says you're like the 'warm sun' whenever you're around."

"I know I've been absent in paddock due to what happened last year." You take a sip of alcohol after bringing up your failed wedding. "But I'm back where I've always belonged. McLaren was and will always be family." You say as you smile at Lando and Zack being dj together.

"Well I'm glad you're back and I can't wait to get to know you better." Oscar gets two shots from the bartender and gives you one. He smiles at you and says, "Cheers to new beginnings."

"Yeah. Cheers to new beginnings."

[hajimeseyo]

You're staring, Izana notices. 

He has no idea who you are, really, but you've been trying (and obviously failing) to sneak subtle glances at him the entire time since he stepped into the convenience store. It's starting to throw him off, just a little. For all he knows, you could be a spy from an opposing gang. Not a very good one, though. 

Your gaze follows him as he walks towards the cashier and pays, and even as he walks towards the exit, plastic bags in hand. He pays it no mind as he feels it shift off him, the sound of the cashier greeting you the last thing he hears as he steps outside the store. 

It didn't seem like you were going to pick a fight with him, he might as well just leave it be. 

Besides, any gang that dared to come after Tenjiku would just be mercilessly crushed under his heel. A spy or two wouldn't change that fact.

The clouds above him rumble, dark and heavy, and he frowns, looking up at the cloudy sky. It would be a pain in the ass if it rained while he was in the middle of walking home. Maybe he could call Kakucho to pick him up. Or he could just buy an umbrella from the store right behind him…

The sound of footsteps snap him out of his thoughts, and he glances to the side to see you, head lowered and lips mouthing numbers as you take inventory of the things in your plastic bag. You don't seem to have noticed him, he notes in amusement.

His theory proves true when you look up, done from counting, and nearly jump at the sight of him staring straight at you. Your eyes are wide, the way you freeze reminding him of a prey caught by its hunter, and he can't stop himself from having a little fun. 

“You were staring at me quite a lot earlier, huh?” He says, relishing in the way your face flushes with embarrassment, and the way you instantly try (and fail) to school it into a look of nonchalance. “Is there a problem?”

You cough awkwardly, eyes suddenly unable to look at him despite being fully glued onto him just minutes ago. Izana watches you squirm, all too used to these shows of discomfort. Based on most of his past interactions, you'll probably come up with some lame excuse on why you were staring at him, then take the first opportunity you have to run away. Or get defensive, and aggressively deny you were doing anything of the sort. People always act the same when confronted with their actions. Izana's used to the same old song and dance. 

He wonders which route you’ll take.

To his surprise, you take neither of them. 

You seem to come to a decision, gaze snapping up to him, nervous but suddenly full of what seems like determination.

“There's no problem, I was just staring because–” You falter a little here, cheeks reddening a little again, before you pull yourself together with a quick shake of the head. “Because, well…your eyes.”

“Hm?” That response certainly wasn’t what he was expecting. “What about them?”

“They're beautiful.”

The words are said so plainly, without a trace of any doubt, and Izana is shocked speechless. 

While he doesn't deny that he's good looking, the word ‘beautiful’ and any part of him have never been together in the same sentence before. That he's heard of, at least. Even if any of his subordinates had the guts to consider him ‘beautiful’, they definitely wouldn’t have the guts to say it to his face. Granted, you probably don’t have any idea who he is, but still. This is definitely a first.

(And even so, the thought that something about him could be beautiful was something that had never occurred to him.)

“...Really?” The words come out in a whisper before he could stop himself.

You nod vigorously, and once again Izana is thrown off by the fact that it's something you're so sure of. As if the thought of it being untrue has never even crossed your mind.

His response seems to appear to you as an invitation to talk more, as you continue speaking, hesitation fading away with each word that comes out of your mouth. “They're just such a beautiful shade of purple, like amethysts. I've never seen anything like it before. And paired with your long white eyelashes and white hair, you look like someone's painting came to life.”

"I don't know if anyone's told you before, but you're really a sight to behold."

There's a light, pleasant feeling in his chest.

He doesn't know what it is. 

“Ah!” You suddenly slap your hands over your mouth. “I spoke too much! God, I must've sounded like a creep, I'm so sorry–”

A laugh cuts you off from your panicked rambling. Izana doesn't quite know why he's laughing, but seeing you panicking over saying the wrong things despite being fully shameless literally right before just seemed so funny, and well, there's such a nice warmth in his chest; indulging in it doesn't hurt, right?

(He doesn’t notice the stars in your eyes as you stare, almost in awe, at his laughing visage.)

“What’s your name?” You’re interesting, he’s decided. It would be a shame to let you just slip away.

“[name].”

He lets out a hum. “[name], huh…got it.” 

“Wait.” You call out to him, just as he turns and begins to walk away. “What’s yours?”

He doesn’t notice, but as he turns back, there’s a genuine, serene smile on his face that would’ve shocked even the noisiest Haitani twins into silence at seeing it on the face of the highly feared leader of Tenjiku.

“Izana. Don’t forget it.”

(He’s scolded nonstop by Kakucho when he shows up at home, soaking wet from the heavy downpour outside.

“It’s not like you to be so careless.” Kakucho huffs, drying his hair roughly with all the fierceness of an Asian mom. “You knew it was going to start raining on your way back, why didn’t you just call for one of us to get you from the store?”

Izana hums unconcernedly. “I was already walking away from the store, I couldn’t just stop and turn back.”

“Huh?? Why the hell not??”

“Don’t be stupid, Kakucho. I would’ve looked so uncool.”

“??????”)

(part 2 here!)

[miley1442111]

Heyyyy are you still requests?? If yes..................

Last night i relived a painful memory when a loved person told me to shut up in front of our friend group and it was so humiliating and overwhelming, i went dead silent for the rest of the month but still played cool with everyone and everyone knew i was destroyed, wasnt leaving home that much yet and the person who told me to shut up was going trough some shit (ON THAT DAY) and actually never apologized...

SO SORRY FOR THE VENT BUT IT WAS NECESSARY FOR THE PLOT I SWEAR.

What if the reader is the one being told to shut up by none other than RAFE CAMERON who is a very close friend and he told the reader to shut up out loud in the middle of a party in front of your friend group (Kelce and Topper) and the reader also play it cool but it collapse at themself like a dying star and all their light is sucked by the black hole it became. But unlike real life, Rafe doesnt need people telling him he fucked up and he felt terrible and a few weeks later he sees reader on a party, unusually quiet, being dragged by their friends around trying to cheer reader up and the reader still trying to play it cool but the damage was showing and maybe Rafe take the chance to approach you but he doesnt know what to say or what to do so he acts like nothing happened?? IM SORRY THIS IS SO CONFUNSING I JUST WOKE UP AND I HAD TO WRITE THAT BEFORE THE MEMORY FADED. Sorry if i made you feel uncomfortable, just ignore it if you didn like ittt!! I love your writting btw i'll never forget that one ask i did and you answered about Rafe choosing between reader and a lover!!!!

and ask 2:

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talking too much- r.cameron

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a/n: HELLO to the both of you! thank you two so much for requesting, and very sorry that this happened to you :( I'd let you talk my ear off about anything any time :) (ps, great song choice)

pairing: rafe cameron x fem! reader

summary: i suggest you look at the requests

warnings: reader kind of loses her spark, rafe is a confused and stressed asshole, reader becomes very insecure, feelings of not being good enough, rafe gets very stressed at the end (i think that's it?)

not entirely proofread

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It was finally nearing the end of June and you were planning your 4th of July party with your friends. Topper, Kelce, Rafe, you, Sarah, and a few of your other friends sat around the table, thinking up ideas for what parties to drop into, and what you were going to wear, etc. You were excited, that was no crime. You’d always been the most excitable in the group, it was just part of your bubbly personality, there was no issue with it. No one had ever been more than a little irritated with it before, no big deal. You’d just apologise and remember to tone it down for those people, but your closest friends weren’t those people. Your closest friends liked your personality, your closest friends liked you. It didn’t matter how loud you were. 

“And then I guess we’ll-”

“God, do you ever shut the fuck up?” Rafe cursed.

The room went silent. You stood still, frozen as people’s eyes turned to you. Sarah offered a look of sympathy, she knew how much you valued Rafe’s opinion, especially since you had a slight crush on him. You felt yourself recoil. How could he be so rude? All you were doing was giving ideas to the group, it’s not like anyone else was trying to speak much, and Rafe definitely wasn’t adding to the conversation. At least, he hadn’t been for the past hour, just sitting in the corner with his leg bouncing and that stupid vein protruding from his stupid neck. You slumped back in your chair, embarrassment filling your mind as you thought over every other interaction with him and the group. Were you annoying? Did they all actually hate you? 

“I don’t hear you talking much Rafe,” Sarah shot back. “Something to say?”

Rafe rolled his eyes. “Fuck off Sarah,” he scoffed and waited for you to bounce back and start speaking again. You didn’t. He looked up as the group started speaking again, going off of all the plans you’d started. You were just sitting there, on your phone. 

You just waited until someone actually asked you a question to give your input, and even then all you said was; “Sounds good.”

He’d fucked up. Big time. 

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It had been a week since ‘the incident’, and Rafe hadn’t seen you. He felt awful, absolutely disgraced after what he’d said. He was stressed, it was a bad moment, and he took it out on you. He was sorry. But how was he supposed to tell you that? How was he supposed to explain how sorry he was, explain that he was just stressed? How would you believe him? You two had never been the closest in the friend group, not to say you two didn’t speak, but you two weren’t exactly attached at the hip like you were with Sarah, or Kelce. All you’d ever been to him was nice, not something he was sure he deserved, but he appreciated it all the same. 

How could he get back to that?

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“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Sarah begged over the phone. 

“I’m tired, I was working all day-”

“Come on, you’ve been dodging all week! 4th of July is coming up, I don’t want to hang out with Kelce and Top without you,” she whined, 

“I’ll be there for the 4th, I’m just busy right now,” you sighed. “I promise I’m ok,” you lied. 

“If you’re staying home because of what Rafe said, I’ll kill him,” she swore. 

“I don’t give a shit about what Rafe said,” lie. “I’m just busy, promise.”

Sarah sighed. “Alright, see you on the 4th!”

And with that, you hung up. The last week had been one long pity-party that made you feel even worse about yourself, deciding that your friends were better off without you, especially when you can’t even bounce back from one tiny insignificant comment from one random guy. That’s what you thought anyway. But now, you had 3 days before the 4th, and you weren’t sure how you were going to get the courage to face any of them. 

Not that they hadn’t reached out. Everyone who was there (aside from Rafe) had called or texted to ask if you were ok, and apologised for not saying anything. Kelce had felt the worst, since he was supposed to be your best friend, and he hadn’t said anything. You brushed them off, promising them it was fine, promising them you were fine. They barely believed you, but you somehow convinced them that you were busy. You told half of them that you were packing for your move, and the other half that you had gotten a job at your mom’s company. I mean, technically you were a few weeks out from moving away and you should be packing, and technically you did just get a job at your moms’ company (managing the online presence and doing admin work), but really both those jobs were easy. You could’ve done them for a few hours, then seen your friends. But you didn't want to. You didn’t want to feel like a burden. 

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The day of the 4th rolled around and Sarah picked you up with all the girls in the group in her car. You looked gorgeous in your short red dress, at least that’s what Sarah told you. You kept your mouth shut as the girls gossiped and sang along to songs, only interjecting when truly necessary. When you got to the beach, you managed to break away from the girls and get a drink, standing alone as you watched the night go by. You liked people watching, you found it interesting to see the small micro-expressions on peoples faces, the snippets of their conversations, and everything in between. 

“Hi,” Rafe smiled softly. He was in front of you, blocking your view of the people you were looking at. 

“Hi,” you answered meekly. 

He stood there for a moment as you tried to look over his shoulder, but the group were gone. You sighed in defeat and turned around to pour yourself another drink. 

“How are you?” he asked. 

“Fine thanks,” you answered. “You?”

“Good, fine… yeah,” the awkwardness in his voice almost made you physically cringe. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“It’s been like a week?” you questioned. In the past week, Rafe had realised how much he missed you, and how much you added to the group. He missed how you brightened up everyone, how you kept the peace by being close with almost everyone, how you made him laugh. 

“What have you been up to?” He scratched the back of his neck, his nerves almost getting the better of him, almost making him turn around and not do this. Almost.

“Not much. Working, packing, usual stuff,” you shrugged. 

Rafe’s expression faltered. “Packing?”

“I’m moving in a few weeks,” you explained. “So you won't see me for a while.”

No. No. No. No. No. No. No. 

Absolutely not. 

Rafe felt his stomach sink. “Why?”

“‘Why’ what Rafe?” you asked, genuinely confused. Why, out of all people, would he care?

“Where?”

“Just main-land, but a bit further into the city so I’m moving schools,” you shrugged.

“But it’s our senior year?”

“Yeah? And?”

“We all said we’d do it together, remember?”

“It wasn’t my choice to move,” you scoffed. “And also, why are you acting like this is new information? Tonight is my ‘last hurrah’ get-together. We’re doing the stupid sleepover.”

“W-what?”

“We didn’t invite you,” Sarah butted in. “You were a dick, now you reap the consequences.”

You rolled your eyes at the shocked look on Rafe’s face. “Night Rafe, see you around.”

Rafe stood frozen as you walked away, shocked. Had he really not been listening for so long? Had he really missed that? You were moving, you were gone. And there was nothing he could do about it. 

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obx masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

[chenfleur]

lowkey

summary. jeonghan's supposed to be on stage in twenty minutes, and he's nowhere to be found.

pairing. idol!jeonghan x makeup artist!y/n ft vernon genre. fluff, secret relationship word count. 1.7k released. 03.26.2023 author's note. this is so funny to me because im pretty sure i can count the number of interactions vernon and jeonghan have had on one hand

masterlist

“Where’s Jeonghan?”

There’s an urgent lilt in the stage director’s voice as it booms around the crowded, high-tension salon space. 

You’d typically roll your eyes. God forbid Yoon Jeonghan stays still for just a second. 

As the notice of his going missing sinks in, the atmosphere becomes frantic. The sound of rustling grows loud and overbearing—people begin to fly around the messy space, trying to organize and give last-minute touches to the rest of the group; a few managers had already walked out the door without a second thought, going to go search.

“That idiot,” you murmur, eyebrows pinched together. 

Jeonghan has always had the tendency to wander. It’s just a product of restlessness, and it's always been a fairly harmless habit, but this space isn’t one that’s familiar like a music show; it's the first stop on the world tour—where the venue is completely foreign to both the members and the staff—and if he doesn’t show up in the next ten or so minutes, it would not end prettily.

Vernon, whose base makeup you were touching up, eyes you curiously. Your movements had faltered considerably upon the director’s shout, going from precise, aggressive beats against his face to uncharacteristically soft, unsynchronized taps.

He watches your unsettled expression with slightly squinted eyes—but he doesn’t say anything, simply averting his gaze to his reflection.

The soft, worried mutters of the other members paired with the worked-up exclamations from the different staff fill your ears until it grows unbearable. You can't take it anymore.

You find yourself only giving Vernon a few more quick taps before muttering a faint “you’re all set”, tossing the beauty sponge haphazardly onto the cluttered countertop. You hear a thoughtful “thank you” come from him before you bolt across the room and out the door.

The lingering uncertainty of Jeonghan's whereabouts must be messing with your senses, because the grey halls feel even more obscure than before—they're seemingly never-ending as you twist and turn around the venue, the only times you stop being to peek down corridors for the silhouette of a person.

Your legs begin to ache from how fast you’re walking, but that pain fades as you finally catch sight of a figure in one of the waiting areas, leaning against the wall next to a vending machine.

“Jeonghan-ssi!” you call out immediately, striding towards him.

The man’s head looks up from his phone screen, warily looking around. Realizing it was you that was coming towards him, he pockets his phone before peeling himself off the wall and going to meet you halfway.

You stop a few steps away from him, eyes scanning over his build as if to check for any accidents. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but everyone is looking for you, you have to be on stage really soon-”

“Y/N,” Jeonghan murmurs, cutting you off. “Y/N, it’s just us. Stop talking like that, you sound so cold.”

Your eyebrows furrow, but when you realize what he was referring to, you grow quiet.

When the two of you got together, you made it clear that you wanted to remain professional. Jeonghan is your coworker, and so, you treat him as such–you keep speaking to him with formalities and interact with him only when necessary, trying your hardest to not drop any sort of indication that you have a more intimate relationship with him.

Even if other people knew about your relationship, you still think you’d like to keep your work and personal life wholly separate. You think it's just more simple that way, and you don’t want to become someone who seems unreliable.

It strikes you that you had been speaking to him formally, and even after realizing it, you don’t know why you still find yourself unable to slip into a more casual persona.

Maybe it’s because he was in his stage outfit, all made up and styled to perfection—or maybe it’s because the setting of a waiting room is one you associate so heavily with work—either way, you find yourself keeping a small distance from him, hands at your sides with the same indifferent, borderline stern expression on your face.

“Come back to the salon, please,” you say sharply before turning away.

Jeonghan winces. He encircles his fingers around your wrist to stop you from walking away any further, the gentleness of his touch contrasting the edge of your tone.

“You're so mean…”

His grip on your wrist makes you turn back around, looking at him with curiosity. Your eyes widen at the sight of an unfamiliar expression painted on Jeonghan’s face—one that’s slightly forlorn.

“Call me Han, or something. Please. I need you to ground me,” he whispers.

He’s laughing—his voice still has the teasing charm that’s always present whenever he speaks—but you can’t help but notice the small amounts of desperation that seep through.

Taking a few steps forward, you’re now much closer to him than before. You remove his fingers from around your wrist, and after a little hesitation, you slowly interlock your fingers together.

Immediately, Jeonghan squeezes your hand tightly, the tension leaving his body as soon as he feels the smoothness of your touch. He brings your interlocked hands up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles.

You freeze. The idea of PDA in a work setting makes you uneasy—but, you put that aside to focus solely on Jeonghan, because something was clearly bothering him.

“What’s wrong, Han?” you ask, much softer than before.

Jeonghan’s head hangs down as he chuckles meekly. “Nothing. It’s stupid.”

“No, it’s not. Stop downplaying yourself. What’s wrong?”

“I just- I’m nervous, baby.”

The pet name slips out naturally, but you barely register it. “It’s been a really long time since we’ve been on tour, and we’ve never been to this city before… I don’t know if anyone will like my performance? Like-”

“Shhh, Han,” you shush, tentatively stroking your thumb on the top of his hand. 

“It’s fine to be nervous. I’d be surprised if any of you weren’t nervous,” you say jokingly, rolling your eyes. You don’t notice, but Jeonghan's gazing at you with fondness, his lips threatening to quirk up.

“But what’s not fine is for you to think that no one will like your performance. You’re such an incredible performer, Jeonghan," you say, eyes shining. "Maybe even my favourite performer, but you can’t tell Mingyu I said that.”

Jeonghan scoffs dramatically, ripping his hand out of yours and crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Maybe? You’re breaking my heart, Y/N,” he chides.

A melodic laugh bubbles from you, and Jeonghan tries his absolute hardest to not break into a massive smile.

Jeonghan doesn't mind the distant, formal dynamic the two of you have during work. He, too, has an image to maintain and wants to be professional—though he won’t deny that he wishes he could see you like this more often: eyes crinkling in delight as you laugh at his antics. It suits you better than the serious expression you wear when you do his makeup, he thinks.

Jeonghan doesn’t try to stop you when you reach for his hand, taking it in yours again.

“But seriously, you’re great. Listen, they’re all there for you,” you say, looking up at nothing in particular as you listen to the muffled roars of fans singing along to the music videos that play before the concert starts.

Your sincerity is too much for his poor heart, and Jeonghan finds himself grinning widely.

“I suppose they are,” he mutters, making you laugh.

A silence falls over the two of you, before it’s broken by Jeonghan.

“Thank you,” he whispers genuinely. "For always supporting me."

You don’t say anything in return, only giving his hand one final squeeze before detaching yourself from him and beginning to walk away.

Though, you only make it a few steps before you’re frozen in your place. You're looking at something that makes your eyes widen and the wires in your brain snap.

Leaning against the threshold between the waiting area and the hall, arms crossed and a the ghost of a smile on his face, is Vernon. 

Jeonghan comes up behind you and, though he isn’t nearly as stunned as you, blinks in confusion at the sight of his member standing there. 

“Oh, hey man. What are you doing here?” he asks nonchalantly.

The younger shrugs. “You’ve caused quite the riot, hyung. Everyone’s looking for you."

Vernon pushes himself off the doorframe before directing his gaze to you. “So this is why you were so worried about him,” he wonders aloud, an amused glint in his eyes.

Words refuse to come from your lips as your jaw hangs open. All you feel is Jeonghan putting his annoying yet warm hand on your waist, giving it a small, excited squeeze.

“Worried about me, hm?” your boyfriend teases. You don’t even have it in you to shoot back, only turning your head away from him to hide your quickly burning face.

“How long?” Vernon suddenly muses.

“About half a year. You think she hates me yet?” Jeonghan jokes, though his eyes are half-lidded as he affectionately looks down at you.

"Seems like it," Vernon responds, chuckling. "Hey- is this why you sometimes don’t come back to the dorms?”

The younger's eyebrows shoot up as the realization dawns on him, breaking the signature, neutral expression he always wears. He's impressed. "God, we've just been thinking you, like, get drunk and blackout on the road or something."

Jeonghan throws his head back, the sound of his loud laughs ringing through the air. “Yeah. But don’t tell anyone- no one else knows.” 

Vernon whistles lowly, before bringing his hand up to mime sealing his lips and throwing away the key.

Your shock has somewhat subsided, and when you suddenly remember why you were in this situation in the first place, you gasp. “Oh my god, you guys have to go. Now.”

Even as you practically throw him off of you, the smile seemingly can’t be wiped off your boyfriend’s face.

Jeonghan can’t stop thinking about your shining eyes and the shade of red that tinted your cheeks, even as he walks away.

[shitsndgiggs]

A DAY IN REGENSBURG - KENAN YILDIZ

A day walking around the streets of Regensburg, with Kenan

Kenan Yildiz x half turkish, half danish! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

The cobblestone streets of Regensburg felt like a step back in time, with their charming architecture.

Kenan and I walked hand in hand, the summer sun casting a warm glow over the historic town. The day was perfect.

"So, Kenan," I started, swinging our joined hands slightly as we walked, "what’s your favorite childhood memory from growing up here?"

Kenan grinned, his eyes sparkling with nostalgia. "Oh, that’s a tough one, mein schatz. But I think it has to be playing football in the park with my friends. We used to pretend we were playing in the World Cup."

I laughed. "I can totally see that. Were you always the star player?"

"Of course," he said with a mock-serious expression. "I was always the star, even if we were just kids with big dreams."

"Well, look at you now, Herr Fußballstar," I teased, nudging him playfully. "Living the dream."

He chuckled, pulling me closer as we walked. "And what about you? Any favorite memories from Denmark?”

"I have so many," I said, thinking back. "But one of my favorites is visiting my grandparents every weekend. The whole family would gather, and we’d have these huge feasts. The food, the laughter, it was just perfect."

"Sounds amazing," Kenan said, his tone softening. "Family is everything, isn’t it?"

We continued our stroll, pausing occasionally for Kenan to take pictures with fans who recognized him. "Guten Tag! Of course, happy to take a photo," he would say, his smile never fading. I watched him interact, feeling proud of how gracious he was with everyone.

A group of teenagers approached, shyly asking for autographs. Kenan signed their shirts and took selfies with them, making sure everyone was happy. "You’re so good with your fans," I commented as we continued walking.

Kenan shrugged modestly. "They’re the best. And seeing them happy makes it all worth it."

As we reached the town square, the St. Peter's Church loomed majestically in the distance. Kenan looked at me, his expression softening. "You know, I think you fit in here perfectly. Like you were meant to be part of my world."

I smiled, feeling warmth spread through me. "Maybe it’s because I’m half-Turkish too. And Denmark isn’t far from Germany, so we’re almost alike in a way."

Kenan nodded, stopping to kiss my hand. "Absolutely. It’s like we were meant to find each other, canım."

We found a cozy bakery and decided to take a break. Kenan ordered in German, showing off his fluency, while I teased him about his accent. "You sound so serious when you speak German," I joked. "Like a stern teacher."

He laughed. "Well, maybe I am. And you, öğrencim, need to behave."

I stuck my tongue out at him playfully. "You wish."

As we enjoyed our treats, an elderly couple at the next table struck up a conversation with us, commenting on how lovely we looked together. "Siz çok güzel bir çiftsiniz," the woman said, smiling kindly.

"Teşekkürler," Kenan replied, nodding appreciatively.

We continued our exploration, visiting the Stone Bridge and marveling at the views of the Danube River. Kenan pointed out his favorite spots from his childhood, sharing stories that made me laugh and feel closer to him.

"Do you think we’ll come back here often?" I asked, leaning my head on his shoulder as we walked.

"I hope so," Kenan said, his voice filled with warmth. "I want to share all my favorite places with you."

As the day drew to a close, we found ourselves back at the town square, the sky painted in hues of orange and pink. Kenan pulled me close, wrapping his arms around me. "Thank you for spending the day with me here. It means a lot."

"Jeg elsker dig," I whispered,"Thank you for sharing this with me."

"Ben de seni seviyorum," he replied softly, leaning down to kiss me. The world around us seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of us, lost in a moment of pure happiness.

As we walked back hand in hand, the lights of Regensburg twinkling around us, I knew that this day, filled with playful banter, shared memories, and tender moments, was one I would cherish forever.

[blasphemecel]

Michael Kaiser — Stench

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 9k TYPE: Angst, Childhood friends, Making up, occasionally funny WARNING(S): Poverty, implied/referenced child abuse, house break-in, spoilers for Kaiser's backstory, if I missed something lmk NOTE(S): This is a two shot but I'm posting it here combined for my own convenience. The numerals show how the chapters are separated and indicates a long time skip.

I.

Someone’s coming closer and closer. It’s hard to catch Kaiser off guard — he’s sensitive to the slightest of sounds, so he can hear them approaching from behind without trouble, these sloppy footsteps slapping against the cement as if the owner is wearing really shitty shoes. He freezes with the ball still in his hands, doesn’t dare look back and check who it is, an irrational part of his brain suspecting it to be his father.

It takes a while for whoever it is to cross the distance, and then an unfamiliar voice rings, “Hey.”

Kaiser glances over his shoulder finally. You stand there, peering down at him while he’s sitting, cigarette spreading fumes in the air even though you don’t look any older than him. He doesn’t say anything to acknowledge you, though, just stares, tense and confused about your intentions.

You crouch down so you are at eye level with him. The bad smell follows, wafting by his nose and he holds down a cough on the off chance any noise might set you off and make you violent. You pull it out of your mouth and flick it away from him, apparently possessing enough decorum to stop blowing smoke in his face. “Why are you always doing that?”

“Huh?”

Kaiser knows what you mean, but he can’t help asking. After all he’d noticed you before all those times just like you’d noticed him. Every day you hang around the solitary playground at a distance while he messes around with the ball, though he never expected you’d speak to him. If anything you never pay much mind to each other.

You usually leave like you’re on some kind of schedule, but you’re up close to him now and he can see you’re in a similar condition to him — bruises and dirt littering your skin, tattered and ill-fitting clothes barely hanging onto your frame. The offenders behind your loud entrance he identifies as the torn pink fuzzy slippers he always sees you wearing, smeared with faded mud. Certainly not the most reliable footwear, but you’re in a better boat than he is on that front, what with him not wearing any shoes at all. Not his fault he outgrew his last pair, although naturally his father found a way to blame him. He’s creative like that.

“You’re always kicking the ball and punching the shit outta it.”

Embarrassed by the reasoning behind his behavior maybe, Kaiser averts his eyes. He hopes not responding will dissuade you from interacting with him.

It doesn’t work. “What’s your name?”

“… Michael.”

“So basic, but fine. I’ll call you Micha, ok?”

“You don’t need to call me anything.”

You offer your name in return. After taking another drag, you smile and ask, “How old are you?”

“Thirteen,” he says, figuring this is unimportant enough information that he can offer it without consequences until you grow bored and go away.

You grin at him and squint your eyes. The expression makes you seem smug for no discernible reason. “I’m fourteen, so I’m your senior. You can call me boss if you want. Got it, small fry?”

What an annoying attitude. He places the ball over his stomach and adjusts his position so he’s hugging his knees, this surly expression on his face. “It’s not even that big of a difference…”

“You sound so pensive when you talk. Hey, why do you kick the ball even though you don’t have shoes? Doesn’t it hurt?”

What else is someone supposed to do with a piece of trash except hurt it? Expressing such a sentiment out loud seems shameful, though. “Why are you smoking even when it’s bad for you and stupid and tacky? Why are you asking dumb questions even though you’re not getting anything out of it?”

You burst out laughing. “Woah, relax. Touchy.” When he doesn’t respond and instead continues scrutinizing you with scorn (which at this point you deem undeserved), you say, “I stole ‘em off someone. What’s stopping you from stealing a pair of shoes?”

“They’re too big to steal. It’s impractical.”

“You think small, but fair enough,” you say, before standing up, still grinning. Then you wave. “I’ve gotta go now. I’ll see you tomorrow, Micha.”

“Who said I want to see you?”

You laugh again as if his rejection is funny, but trudge on away from him. “C’mon, lighten up.”

Kaiser scoffs, pressing his cheek against the ball, tightening his hold against it. There is nothing to lighten up about.

___

Kaiser hasn’t taken any particular liking towards you, but you do hang out together every day since you approached him. He’s not sure why he tolerates your presence. Maybe because you’re resourceful — stealing is so much easier when you two coordinate. Or maybe it’s nice to talk to someone who doesn’t seem to want to strike him down and strangle him.

Currently you’re at the playground again. The lighter you use has some ugly, childish print on it. Kaiser is trying to inflate his ball with the air pump you swiped together from a shop in town earlier after you made fun of how ‘sad and flat’ it was and came up with the idea. When he hears the flicker and then registers the smell, Kaiser asks, “How many do you smoke a day?”

“One is to be stylish. Two is if I didn’t appreciate the first one enough. Three is if I still don’t feel like shitting.”

Kaiser frowns in disapproval at the moronic remark. Funny in an ironic sort of way how this lifestyle has you sounding like a ridiculous, fake adult — neither child nor mature, but something else entirely. A different category of human. He wonders if you think the same about him. “You fucking smell. How many are there in a pack?”

“Twenty,” you say after uselessly flipping over the lid, even though for one it’s not full and you already know the answer anyway, so it’s not necessary to check.

“So if you smoke three a day then you have to… steal one every two weeks?”

You scrunch your eyebrows in confusion at this assessment. “No, that’s not right. It’s like once or twice a week depending.” Then you do some weird counting on your fingers for a while. “But even if it was exactly three a week, that’s like six point six or some shit like that. Dummy.”

“Shut up, shithead,” says Kaiser, embarrassed.

“Ok.”

“Leave me alone. I didn’t think about it too much.”

“I’m not even saying anything.” A moment of silence passes until an enlightened remark comes to mind. “Hey, Micha.”

“What?”

You scoot a little closer to him. Kaiser gets nervous at first and freezes, but calms down when it seems you’re not inching your hands towards him. Though the relief is short-lived because then you take an exaggerated sniff of the air and grin. “You stink too.”

He glares at you.

The ball ends up fine. Sure, it’s still beat up and dirty as most things around him, but at least it’s functional enough to kick again, and that’s what’s important.

___

“What now,” says Kaiser with an attitude of being greatly inconvenienced before plopping down next to you on the sidewalk.

You continue counting, trying to keep track of how much money you have on you. A series of gross, dry coughs escapes your mouth. When the fit near passes, you spit on the ground as if to ease your throat, hitting your chest for good measure. Kaiser watches the display with an impassive look on his face. Eventually you turn towards him and ask, “What’s your problem?”

“I don’t have a problem.”

“Ok.”

“You’ve been quiet, not talking to me.”

“I’m gonna go get a haircut so I’m trying to see if I have enough,” you say, figuring he’s wondering about what you’re doing in a roundabout way.

Kaiser rams his head into his knees and makes some kind of noise which you can’t categorize between acknowledgement and disapproval.

You say, “Those children from the schoolyard were telling me having a bad haircut is ‘social suicide.’ Like ‘getting stabbed’ everyday. Apparently it’s the bowlcut that’s really shameful.”

“Other people have such stupid problems,” he says, irked, resentful. “I just cut it with scissors at home.”

“Yeah, man, I can tell. They wash your hair at the hairdresser though, so I wanna go now.”

“You really hang out with them? What do you even talk about?”

You shrug, pulling out a cigarette and then the hideous lighter. The smoke will waft by his nose again and irritate him. It’s unpleasant. The smell he associates with you is unpleasant, but it’s also yours so it’s kind of conflicting. “Recently I’ve been telling them I’m a ghost from the forest.”

Kaiser remains unamused the way you’ve always known him, but after some contemplation graces you with a snort, which makes you smile in return. He asks, “They don’t believe that. Right?”

“Maybe. They’ve got a what-do-you-call-it… You like football, don’t you?”

“A pitch.” He rolls his eyes as if forgetting the word is some kind of crime. Back he goes to frowning.

“Yea, they have that. You should sneak in with me sometime.” You shrug again as if the suggestion isn’t a big deal. “It’s fun.”

His nose scrunches at the thought, forehead wrinkling. It pisses him off just imagining it — truly a sickening concept. Why would you subject yourself to such a thing? Mingling with children who have nice things and an education and clean clothes and probably eat proper meals every night with their families. He doesn’t want to exchange pleasantries with people who can afford to concern themselves with social suicide. Stomach twisted in knots, Kaiser almost hurls, but somehow swallows the bile back down.

“Never,” he denies with finality.

“So dramatic, Micha.”

“Like you’re any better. You don’t care about anything. At all.”

At the sound of his tone getting more sulky than usual, you decide to spare him another glance. “Aww, are you tearing up?”

“No,” Kaiser lies, lips wavering. Unable to hold it in yet desperate to hide, he settles for covering his face with his hands, folding over himself. “I just fucking… hate this place. And I want out so… so bad.” Aside from the muffled sobs, there are also voice cracks littering his admission.

The thing is: you don’t really know what to do to make it all better.

___

Kaiser feels like he’s about to get a cramp from keeping his leg in this position for so long, lifted up and extended. Recently he stole a pair of sneakers from the thrift store, but the soles ended up falling off. Now you’re lathering everything in glue and wrapping it in tape in an attempt to salvage the situation.

“I’m not sure this is how it works,” he says. It’s kind of meek — a pathetic mumble — but you can recognize unwarranted criticism when you hear it.

“Take it or leave it.” You snap off the tape and move onto the next shoe.

When a snarky or otherwise offensive response doesn’t immediately come to mind, Kaiser resigns to silence. He continues observing you while you squeeze out copious amounts of glue. For a moment the only noises between you are those of your sniffles, the obnoxious huffing in of snot.

A few raindrops pour down, pelting your heads at the same time. You hiss when you realize your hard work is about to go to waste while all Kaiser provides in terms of reaction is a blink and a downwards twist of his lips.

“I don’t wanna go home,” you say, sounding distant, which he doesn’t hear from you much — usually there’s a lilt of amusement in your tone, some kind of playfulness lingering in all your words.

“I don’t either. It’s pointless anyway because you’ll get drenched by the time you go home and then there’s nothing to dry yourself with properly and it’s all one huge pain in the ass.”

“Right.” After signaling your agreement with his assessment, you shrug off your hoodie and stretch, trying to drape it enough so that it shields the two of you from the rain. Kaiser accommodates your goodwill by adjusting his position, scooting over next to you and cramming so he’s taking as little space as possible. It’s not an adequate cover by any means and you can tell his shoes will break apart again. But Kaiser is hugging you around the waist, resting his cheek against your neck, and you don’t have to deal with being at your place yet, so it can’t be all that bad.

___

“You look like a pufferfish,” you say unhelpfully.

Kaiser narrows his eyes at you in that way he tends to do which you haven’t seen anyone else replicate exactly. It’s kind of amusing when he does that, especially when one of them is irritated and droopy. “And you look like a spoiled apple.”

“Don’t mind. It’s a lot of bad things happening to me in that house.”

“I know,” says Kaiser.

You rub your cheek and then some more under your eye where the spots are the brightest. It makes him wince because your hands must be dirty, what with everything you two get up to in a day. Since Kaiser’s father strangles him, he’s always swollen and not so much bruised, but he thinks your parents must only leave it at punches while making up for it with enthusiasm. “I kinda like touching them when some time passes.”

“You’re sick.”

“Honestly I was, but it went away. I think I might have an ingrown toenail though.”

“No… I mean in the head.” To emphasize his point, Kaiser reaches out to probe your temple with his index finger. There’s another scratch blooming there, only coming to attention once his focus lands there, but it’s a waste of energy fixating on any of the small ones — he just can’t help but notice sometimes. “By the way, I don’t need to know what kind of toenail you have.”

You laugh, apparently finding his remark funny somehow. Then you reel your hand back before bringing it back down quickly as if you’re about to slap him. Still retaining his common sense, Kaiser flinches and tries to defend himself with his forearm. The reflex is foreign since he usually takes it lying down without moving an inch when it’s his dad.

His reaction makes you laugh harder for some reason, and you don’t smack him at all. Kaiser glares at you for your unfunny prank but you disregard it. Your hands settle around his throat instead, lightly tracing over the purple fingerprints, still fresh from last night. Almost immediately he clenches his teeth, tightlipped, breaking out into a sweat, expecting a harsh squeeze which never comes.

Kaiser wants to scold you for your idiotic behavior, yet he doesn’t. Maybe your hands aren’t for harm, he decides. And then he reaches out too, pressing his knuckle against the darkest contusion on your face. Your eye twitches closed. It turns into a strange fascination then, your skin touching his and his touching yours in places others had hurt. A ritualistic erasement.

___

You’re splitting the money again after selling off another valuable. It was some kind of fancy watch you two stole this time, more ballsy than usual. Once you pocket your share, you ask, “Are you saving up?”

“Yeah.”

“You wanna move? Where?”

Kaiser shrugs. “I don’t care. Anywhere but here.”

You hum and walk ahead of him, probably looking for one of the drinking fountains in the area.

Either compelled by unusual curiosity or bothered by your silence, he says, “You wanna make it the fuck out of here too. Where would you go?”

“To the beach.”

Kaiser rolls his eyes behind your back, finding your answer stupid. Sure, the beach is an exotic idea considering he has never been to one, but all he can imagine is the sand sticking to his skin and the gross seaweed he’s seen in commercials inside stores and such. But on second thought both of these things are probably way less gross than the environment he spends every day in. He lets out a performative huff anyway and says ‘huh’ as if to demand an elaboration.

“I wanna be free like one of those seagulls that fly over the sea. D’you wanna be a seagull with me, Micha?”

“No. That’s dumb,” he says. You ignore him. Kaiser steels his nerves for a second and, after a dry swallow, takes a step so that he’s walking next to you rather than lagging behind. Then he brushes his fingers against yours lightly before making a sweaty, half hearted attempt at holding your hand. His cheeks are warm in a way he hasn’t felt them before. “Take me to your shitty beach someday.”

You make a more competent attempt at hand holding, grasping his fingers in yours until they’re interlacing, and then you swing your arms up and down. Kaiser has enough sense to be embarrassed by this, but doesn’t tell you to stop. He doesn’t know why, but this is the kind of contact he feels the need to savor. “So you do want to be a seagull.”

“Not interested.”

“You’re such a sourpuss, Micha, never playing along with anything.”

“It’s not my fault you make it sound dumb- Well, do you think it’s any use? Hoping for something like that…”

“Don’t tell me you’re giving up.”

“I won’t give up,” he says. “I just don’t know if it’ll work.”

“Come on. We’re gonna get out of here together someday. That’s gotta work.” You lift his arm in the air next and try to make him spin like a dancer. Though Kaiser is used to standing still and limp and letting things happen to him, the attempt doesn’t come out successful. At most he does a slight twist.

“Yeah. Together,” he agrees, like a promise. He imagines messing around with you in the sand with the sun warming his skin in contrast to the perpetual chill he’s become used to. Honestly despite belittling the idea earlier, it doesn’t seem so bad in his mind.

___

Kaiser yawns while sitting next to you on a bench, eating a burger. Since you’re famous for your generosity and kindness and all (not), you decided to ‘splurge out’ by buying food for you both from some shitty hole in the wall. It’s the most filling meal you’ve had in a while. You’re still chewing when you ask, “Are you tired or something?”

He rubs his eyes. “My father was fucking making noises throwing up all night.”

“Ah, your worthless sperm donor.” You nod sagely in acknowledgement.

“Yea, him. It reeked too and when I went to clean it, there were whole chunks in his vomit.”

You scoff. “Don’t clean after him.”

“Not like anyone’s going to clean it if I don’t.” Two more yawns accentuate his sentence. You reach out to throw away the container. For a second you consider keeping the plastic cutlery and maybe washing it at the drinking fountain later, but that seems too desperate even for you. Kaiser says, “I’d take a nap right now if I could, but I don’t want to go back yet.”

“It’s sunny today for the first time in a while. Would be a waste.” You watch Kaiser while he wipes his mouth and his fingers with the napkin. The dark circles around his eyes are worse than usual. “You can lie down on me and sleep if you want.”

“Huh? Really?”

“Yea, it’ll probably be really boring, but I’ll tolerate it,” you allow, ever so charitable.

Kaiser frowns, contemplating. He’s silent for so long, you forget you even suggested anything, but he eventually shifts around and rests his head on your lap, tense. You rake your fingers through his hair. “Don’t smoke,” he warns, but it’s kind of difficult to act butthurt when you’re being so… gentle with him.

“I won’t.”

“Seriously, don’t smoke right now.”

“I said ok already.”

Now that the matter is settled, he decides to trust you and flutters his eyes closed. Though your thighs and the bench aren’t the most comfortable places in the world, to Kaiser who only knows the cold hard floor, such an opportunity is borderline luxurious. The tang of the cigarettes clings even to the fabric of your pants, to your fingers — his favorite smell. You continue stroking his scalp and he dozes off with ease within minutes. Even though he’s snoring already, he moves to wrap his arms around your knee as if he feels a compulsive need to hold onto something in his sleep.

Kaiser looks surprisingly peaceful and precious right now. You hope he’s having a nice dream if any. A long stretch of ennui is ahead of you.

___

The antics have been ramping up as of late. In your defense, you weren’t sure how you were supposed to resist urging Kaiser to break in with you when you noticed the house with the open first floor window, clearly vacant. Though at first he displayed kleptomaniacal tendencies and wanted to rummage through the drawers for anything expensive, you deemed it too risky since you had no idea when the owner would come back. And then you told him you were merely interested in taking a proper shower.

Now you’re almost dry, waiting for Kaiser to finish. You can’t remember the last time you were so free of grime. Wearing the old clothes again almost feels shameful, like a step back. You sniff your armpit like a weirdo and realize your skin smells good .

Kaiser takes a while to come out and emerges looking like he underwent some kind of magical girl transformation. He’s trying to soak up the water from his hair with a towel, sending specks flying everywhere and dripping down his shirt when you blurt out, “You’re handsome.”

In a fashion you’d consider comedic, he stops dead in his tracks to gape at you with flushed cheeks. “What?”

“Your face is pretty.” He blinks. A crease appears on his forehead in apparent disapproval, though you’re not sure what he’s mad about (it’s a compliment!), especially when he’s still blushing. You make a vague hand gesture near your head to clarify your next point, “Try untangling it with your fingers.”

It takes Kaiser a good few seconds to get with the program before he twitches to attempt and follow your advice, but you both freeze when you detect the unmistakable sound of a door closing and locking downstairs. You push him back into the bathroom and close it behind yourself as gently as possible. Then you drag him back to the tub and gesticulate incomprehensibly some more to signal you should both get in and hide before sliding in behind the curtain and reclining on your side. Kaiser follows after you, but you think you might be doomed. It’s still wet, too, which is unpleasant, but not a priority considering the upcoming disaster.

Kaiser opens his mouth to speak, so you clamp it shut with your palm before putting your index finger over your lips. He embraces you, and he’s trembling, and then he hides in your neck as if you’re going to save him from whatever is about to come.

Like you’d assumed, the house owner enters almost immediately. You’re nauseous, stomach clenching. Kaiser is making a stunning impression of a corpse the way he’s not even breathing anymore in his attempt at being quiet. Your muscles are so tense on alert that it hurts and each passing second puts you more on edge.

Thankfully the flush comes and then the running water and then the person leaves with a click. Their footsteps get fainter and fainter until another door opens and closes. You stand and step out, trying not to make a noise still. Before going out into the hallway you throw a glance over your shoulder just to make sure Kaiser is still walking behind you, which he is.

Your movements are slow and light. The escape, especially while making your way down the stairs, is drawn out and excruciating. You hop out through the window you came in from. There you are outside, somehow without incident.

You turn to look at Kaiser again once you hear the rustle of the grass accompanying his jump. With the adrenaline still kicking, you break out into a sprint, eager to get far away. Kaiser catches up to you and you burst out laughing but you’re not even sure why, since you don’t find any of what transpired particularly amusing. A slight smile appears on his face when he recognizes the sound.

___

The next day you notice Kaiser isn’t at the playground, even though he always gets there before you do. No biggie — you can exert some patience.

After a while you start tapping your foot. It’s not like you have a watch to check what the time is or how long it’s been or a phone to ask him where he’s at. So you settle on putting on a show of irritability.

Nothing. Your legs hurt so you go sit down on the swing. You’re getting pretty old for the playground anyway, you think as you pull out a cigarette and light it, eyes darting around. Parents and their children, but no sign of Micha.

You exceed your usual three and end up burning half the pack in your attempt to occupy yourself during your waiting. It relaxes you usually, smoking, when you have a lot of shit juggling around your brain, but it doesn’t work this time.

Did something happen?

… Did his dad finally kill him?

___

Kaiser doesn’t show up at the playground ever again no matter how many times you go.

___

It’s another day where you need to shield your eyes from the sunlight with your hand. You’ve been seeing more of those since you ran away. Must be allegorical or some shit.

From your peripheral vision, while you walk down the street, you pass by a store that has one of those TVs on display, playing a sports game. You spare a moment to look, intrigued, nostalgic in a way — it reminds you of when you were little, when that kind of thing was more common.

They’re playing football, you realize, and you find that evocative too. Some guy scores a goal and they zoom in on him even though he’s not celebrating, instead choosing to stand there like a statue with his arms crossed. Like he’s too cool to get excited, which strikes you as obnoxious.

Then they show his face in full, up front.

You know that face. You’d recognize that face anywhere.

The back of his jersey reads ‘Kaiser’ and yet you never knew him as anything besides his first name.

At first you’re relieved considering you were under the impression catastrophe must’ve befallen him, but the solace doesn’t last long. When the realization hits, your eyes widen and your lips fall into a thin line. It's similar to a punch in the gut how all the air seems to vacate your chest. All this wind around you and you can’t get any.

The only person you ever loved left you behind without a second glance in your direction.

___

II.

Michael Kaiser is mildly inconvenienced. Billions injured on the scene and millions more will die.

So maybe he’s been ranting at someone who he didn’t even glance at, eyes closed, mind way too lost in his reverie. A part of his brain doesn’t even comprehend he’s in fact speaking to a person instead of a cardboard cutout. It’s to his complete shock and bafflement when after so much babbling he receives a reply. “Hey, Mr. Kaiser was it? Shut the fuck up.”

He flutters his eyes open to give the ingrate a glare and speak his mind some more, but he freezes on the spot at the sight in front of him. His blood runs cold, heart stuttering in his chest.

He’d know that face anywhere, even if right now it’s more unamused and neutral — nothing like the expressions in his memories. He’s not sure why his body is reacting like this either, tensing up with a nervous jitter in his system.

Wasn’t he supposed to have left all that stuff in the past? Yet a single look at you is enough to cause this response: this uncertainty, like he’s still a little boy who veers towards hopeless and incompetent, and fuck, why are you giving him such a dead stare?

Do you not recognize him?

Do you not love him anymore?

It’s a rash thing to focus on as his immediate concern especially when he hasn’t been killing himself with worry over you or anything during your years apart, but right now when you’re in front of him it’s all he wants to know. Which is cruel and selfish in a way, in his specific Kaiser-ish way, how he’s first preoccupied with himself before he wonders about your state of mind or living situation. A need to bait for a sign you still care about him torments him even if it might be drastic right off the bat.

When no ingenious idea for such a thing comes to mind and Kaiser realizes he’s been staring at you like a moron, he says, “Don’t call me Mr. Kaiser. It makes me sound old and decrepit.” And that isn’t what you of all people should be referring to him as.

You continue assessing him in a manner which can be described as judgmental at best. “Isn’t that what you said your name is during your little monologue?”

“You already know what my name is.” The awkward silence which follows is almost unbearable. Kaiser scratches himself on the neck even though he’s not itchy just to pass the time. Finally he snaps, “Aren’t you happy to see me?”

“Sorry to break it to you, sir, but most employees anywhere aren’t happy to listen to ten minute long demented tirades about non-problems.”

“Well maybe I overreacted a little,” concedes Kaiser and gives you what he thinks is a suave smile in an attempt at downplaying how uneasy he is. He thinks you can feel it. He thinks you’re doing it on purpose, hurting him with intention. “Are you seriously going to act like you don’t know me?”

Your pitiless gaze sticks to him like glue even when you take out the ice cubes and throw a generous amount into his drink before sticking a paper parasol in it with lots of spite, which is what the big stink he threw a tantrum over was all about. Kaiser wants to tell you that you’re very hot when you’re no longer a starving punching bag, but thinks better of it. Doesn’t seem charming even coming from him. 

“There.” You slide the cup across the counter towards him. “I fixed your shitty smoothie.”

“It’s not a smoothie!”

“A mocktail is basically juice.”

Wrapping his fingers around it, Kaiser doesn’t leave. Instead he chooses to stay and observe you in silence, jaw clenching.

“You can go.”

“I’m not going until you admit you know who I am.”

“What, are you famous or something?” you ask, bemused.

Kaiser is on the cusp of hypertension because you’re doing it on purpose and you’re not even doing it well because you want him perfectly aware of what you’re up to. You’ve never done this — hurt him before, let alone by design — so Kaiser almost assumed you were incapable of it. Though it makes sense that you are. After all, you’re the same type of inhuman he is, and he’s done this if not worse hundreds of times, and even reveled in it. Yet the realization you’re not what he remembers of you stirs disillusionment within him. The nature of it, he doesn’t quite grasp.

Kaiser contemplates causing a scene more than he already has, but he’s not sure how to do so while still getting what he wants. Trying to joke even though above all he wants to throw a tantrum, he whines, “You’re so immature.”

“I’m sorry that my reaction to getting threatened with a lawsuit over ice cubes was immature, Mr. Kaiser.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about!”

Your exterior remains listless and vacant, and Kaiser wants to scream the longer you scrutinize him in this manner. Eventually you spin your finger near your temple as if to call him delusional, then move onto taking the order of someone else.

His eyes narrow until you’re so blurry he can barely see you, perhaps either to censor you from his sight or because a milder expression wouldn’t suffice in communicating his disdain. With a final grit of his teeth and maybe a visible vein on his forehead, Kaiser stands up to leave. Fine. You win this one, but it’s war now.

The scorch of the sand under his feet startles him. He kind of forgot how hot it was, what with getting so distracted. Another comeuppance on a list of many. Today is punishment.

Dramatic inner soliloquy aside, Kaiser makes it back to the beach bed quickly, still reeling over that interaction. You’re here? You’re here, in front of him again, and apparently you’re not too happy to see him.

In the most disinterested tone he can muster, Sae asks, “Did they fix your smoothie?”

“It’s not a fucking smoothie!” With the grace of a lobotomized koala, Kaiser drops it over the small table separating them and barely resists the urge to hurl it at Sae. This would do wonders for his mental health short term, but again he’s trying to feign decorum.

With his trademark deadpan, Sae pretends none of that just happened. Kaiser turns around to look back at the hotel bar where you’re gesticulating at your coworker. Both of you seem immensely annoyed, wild and animated while you converse.

“Fuck, they’re totally complaining about me.”

Sae follows the line of direction through which Kaiser is stalking you. After a few seconds of analysis, he says, “Those are definitely the ‘this shit stain just threatened to sue me,’ ‘wow, really, what the hell’ faces.”

Kaiser snaps his head to look at him with genuine surprise. “What- How’d you know?”

“... You’re so embarrassing, it’s predictable.”

“And you’re annoying,” he says. “I’ll tell Coach to get rid of you and airdrop me Ness.”

“It’s cute that you think the coach cares about your opinion on me enough to replace me. The same as thinking the strippers at the club like you, in a way.”

There is a while of silence where Kaiser’s just snarling while Sae seems like he couldn’t give less of a shit. Then he adds his finisher,

“Or I guess in your case it’s like thinking the bartender actually cares about your order.”

Oh, fuck this vacation.

___

The heat is unbearable.

You step out into the sun and saunter up the wooden path to take your break away from the beach. Sweat has been exuding from your skin for the last few hours. Even so when you make it to the sidewalk, you keep your eyes trained on the scenery as you trudge on to your destination. The sand, the sea, the plants — some natural and some artificial.

Before long your legs take you to your usual street vendor, where you’ll order a shitty pancake that won’t do much to nourish you, but it’ll be so sweet that you’ll be too nauseous to get hungry for a while. The queue isn’t unbearable.

Not until you sense someone hovering behind you, followed up by a hand settling on your shoulder. You turn around to grace the offender with a disgusted side glance, but you’re so baffled to see Kaiser there, you just… freeze.

He’s sneering at you. In fact he looks so happy with himself, you want to vomit. Preferably on him.

“What a coincidence,” he says without even a sliver of shame.

You roll your eyes and face front again, deciding it’s in your best interest to feign ignorance to his existence. Taking this as a sign to elevate the antics to a more obnoxious level, Kaiser resigns himself to the role of one of those domesticated leeches, hanging off you now, fully wrapping his arm around your shoulders. His gaze is burning into your side profile to the point it’s unnerving and you can feel the artificial smugness emanating from his form.

“I thought we were done talking yesterday.”

“Really? You did? How naive,” he coos at you mockingly.

It is convenient that during this time of need — when you’re lacking a good comeback — your time to order comes up. You talk to the guy working about your aforementioned shitty pancake. The moment you shut your mouth, however, Kaiser starts listing off things you’re not even keeping track of like you’re hanging out together or something.

With a mild dispute over whether it’s ‘backwards’ that they do not accept payment through a card, which makes you want to die because you’re a regular here and now the employee who knows you by face will associate you with this pest, Kaiser pays for your thing, too. On the one hand you’re prideful, but on the other you’ve lived the life of a bottomfeeder who takes every scrap they’re given without question, and it’s the kind of conditioning you can’t let go of. So you allow it.

He ends up with an inordinate amount of food in his hands, too much for one person to eat. You’re still doing your ignoring shtick even when Kaiser pulls you down to sit next to him on the table. Content with pretending he doesn’t exist as he is dead to you, you bite onto your food in relative peace, mind drifting somewhere else. Until he speaks that is. “This must be our fateful meeting.”

“I don’t see what’s so fateful about it if you followed me?”

Unbeknownst to you, Kaiser too is adept at the ‘hearing only what he wants to hear’ game. So he moves on with the conversation without any indicator of comprehending what you just said. “I think it’s quite ironic, actually.”

“What are you on about now?”

“You told me you want to go to the beach once. And where do I find you? On the beach. It's an astral influence, I’m sure.”

“Ah? I don’t remember telling you that.”

You’re blinking at him in mild confusion. This hurts Kaiser a hundred times more than when you were deliberately going out of your way to act dismissive of him because he can tell you mean it. To think one of the moments he clung onto the most had slipped your mind.

His eyes are wide and his lips stand still in a thin line, so he forces himself to smirk again and glosses over the information which just shattered him. “So you admit you know me then?”

“No, Mr. Kaiser, I have no idea who you are. I’m thinking you should admit yourself to a hospital. They say false memories are an important symptom in psychopathology.”

“Very funny. I prefer Micha or at least Michael, though.”

“Do I give a fuck?”

He scowls at you. “Yes.”

You finish off your pancake and wipe your hands with the napkin in mild disgust. Kaiser laughs at the wrinkle of your face while you do so, and then he scoots an inch closer.

“Help me finish it all off.” He gestures at all the paper plates.

Pinching between your fingers, you tug the first thing that seems appetizing closer to your side of the table. Kaiser scoops up some of the portion for himself and dumps it in another meal. You ask, “Why are you trying to suck up to me?”

“Aw, is it so wrong to want to treat my closest friend?”

You scoff. The movement of your eyelids fascinates Kaiser — you never really showed any annoyance towards him before, so he finds these expressions of distaste fascinating even if they make him sick. “We haven’t seen each other in four years, so if I’m still your closest friend somehow, that’s just sad. Be for real if you’re gonna be anything.”

“You’re being so difficult! What did I even do?!” To be honest, he’s lying and his gaze isn’t even shying away from you while he’s lying, not even a twitch. He knows you, so he knows that you’re mad he couldn’t be assed to tell you where he went even though he obviously could. He thinks playing dumb might be more in his favor here, though, so he’ll do that. “I don’t even like going to the fucking beach. I’ve been going every year to different places searching for you.”

The unbridled perturbation on your face upon hearing this is quite amusing. Priceless even. You were calling him crazy merely for the sake of fucking with him, and perhaps it was your earnest attempt at gaslighting him but you’re not about to admit it. Right now, though, you think he is genuinely insane.

“You’re saying that to appease me,” you accuse, hoping you’re correct, but also not. The idea he might’ve thought about you like you did about him while you were separated enthralls you, though you can’t let him win you over his bullshit.

“Maybe,” says Kaiser, trying to be mysterious.

Since he obviously wants you to ask him for an elaboration, you deny him the satisfaction.

“How much do you make working at that shitty bar?”

“Enough.”

“I should take you back to Spain with me,” Kaiser decides. With too much confidence at that. “You’d have anything you could ever want.”

It is not like it was before. He’s not acting the way he used to. You suppose you aren’t either. But anyway, you thought it inconceivable that he would ever joke — is he joking? — or make the absurd statements he’s been making. It’s natural, in a way, since you’re also not of the same temperament as before.

With a huff, you say, “You’ll never be my sugar daddy, Kaiser.”

“You’re no fun nowadays.” There’s an amused lilt in his tone while he sneers — you think the way he smiles is fake. You recall he was kind of quiet and awkward and stilted, unnatural at first maybe because he was out of practice in communicating with others, but now he speaks with insincere charisma, like a showman. Yet still the things he says so casually are off-kilter, ruining whatever illusion he’s attempting to sell. “And I said to call me Micha.”

“I don’t need to call you anything.”

It’s all about the metamorphosis. It’s about becoming each other so you’re never truly apart.

___

You’re crouching under one of the tropical trees overlooking the road by the wooden path leading down the beach. The shade is insufficient and the heels of your feet are digging into your ass to the point it hurts. Before your break, the thought of smoking a cigarette had entered your brain so you obeyed it as it was too pervasive even though you don’t enjoy lighting up anything during such weather, believe it or not.

Your eyes are glossy since you’re spacing out, taking puffs. When two silhouettes come to a halt right in front you, only then does the absentminded trance end.

Kaiser waves at you with unnecessary enthusiasm which is just for show. They’re late, arriving way past their usual time. Earlier when he and his companion didn’t show when you expected them to, you assumed maybe their vacation ended and they’d headed home.

The other guy is sullen, but at least his eye lashes are long, which must count for something. After sparing you a glance, he turns towards Kaiser and says judgmentally, “You’re still harassing staff.”

“I’m not har-”

Not giving a shit, the other guy straight up leaves, not bothering to participate in the discussion on a topic he brought up. You watch in mild bafflement as he walks off without a care.

“Ignore him,” Kaiser says. A plastic smile overtakes his face before he squats down next to you, butting into your body with his and almost toppling you over. This is probably bad for his knees, and you’re half exposed to the sun now. Somehow he has created several problems where there were none. “You still smoke.”

You don’t reply, but maintain the common decency not to blow any in his face. He should stay away from you. Isn’t he an athlete? Shouldn’t he be cautious about secondhand smoke? You consider putting it out altogether, then, so you stub it in the almost empty can of the fizzy drink you’d been drinking earlier.

“What kind of lighter do you have now? Has your taste gotten any better?”

No response again. He places an arm around your waist. Through touching you so often it’s like he’s trying to hammer it into your head that you were close, and yet intangible things seem to evade Kaiser, so maybe he’s struggling to conceive of any other way to reestablish your connection.

“You still smell the same. Like nicotine.”

“Well, you smell the way you used to, too.”

The space between his brows wrinkles and his nose twitches in irritation at your words. “The fuck do you mean? No, I don’t.”

“Let me spell it out for you in a way we both understand.” For the first time since your strange reunion, you reciprocate the physicality and pull him in by the shoulder till you’re forehead to forehead so you can look him in the eyes while explaining. “When I saw you a few days ago for the first time in so long, it was like you basically still had a sign that says ‘broke ass bum.’”

He gapes at you with incredulity, this offended expression on his face.

“I mean,” you say, snickering in bewilderment at the absurdity of his previous actions, “you were gonna sue me over some ice cubes, really? Acting like a spoiled little prince to disguise where you crawled out from? I think you and I have got the kinda stench not even all the Dior in Avenue Montaigne can wipe off.”

His fingers would’ve dug hard into your flesh if your shirt wasn’t in the way with how his grip tightens in response. The grit of his teeth exposes more of them. Strangely, you think he has nice gums. “Why the fuck are you being like this?”

“‘Cause you were content to forget all about me, but you don’t want me to be angry at you either. You should’ve just been polite and pretended you didn’t recognize me. But no, you want it all. I hate people like you who make no sense.”

“You’re just jealous,” Kaiser accuses, trying the snobby angle. If he’s pretentious then he’s not hurt by you claiming you despise him. At least that’s what he settles on.

“Sure. That could be true as well.” You stand up and take the can with you to throw away.

Kaiser plops down on the sand, tired of squatting, and doesn’t bother watching you plod back to the bar but the sound of your footsteps rings heavy in his ears until it dissipates. He hugs his knees like the wet wipe he is at heart.

The kindest person he’d known was a scammer and a liar and a thief and who knows what else. It hurts like nothing else to bear the weight of your desertion.

This must be cellular rejection. You should’ve been ecstatic to see him on account of your shared inhumanity. Does it not matter to you anymore, the fact that you and Kaiser are the same?

… Right; you’re not the ball. When he hits you, you can hit him back.

___

The beach is desolate and eerie at night. Kaiser came out to brood, which was fine because Sae didn’t care to ask him where he was going when he left the room. Unlike during the day, the sand is cool under his feet now — what an obtuse observation to make, all things considered. He’s annoyed and frustrated at himself as usual when things don’t go his way.

There’s a light illuminating someone’s face where they recline on one of the lounge chairs. It’s blue, meaning the source is a phone. Kaiser startles because he assumed he was alone.

And you startle when you see him staring at you in the dark, but instead of screaming all you do is let out an unconvincing gasp and turn on the backlight to reveal him. Kaiser covers his eyes with his forearms and turns away, letting out some vampiric kind of noise.

Then you frown and go back to tapping away on your shitty mobile game. “You’re such a creep honestly,” you say in distaste.

Once he gets over the assault you just committed on his admittedly sensitive eyes, Kaiser sits down next to you uninvited.

“It’s a coincidence,” he snaps. “I don’t want to be around you either. You’re so fucking exhausting. Can’t talk to you like a normal person at all because of your stupid grudge.”

“Then why are you still trying?”

Of course, there are many answers to that question. Some including but not limited to I think I can still love you like before and I miss you and I regret not sending you that postcard and I hate how you’re mad at me, but I can’t seem to get it right. Though such pathetic things aren’t in Kaiser’s nature to spew, so they never make it past his throat. The words constrict around his neck like a noose.

Instead of answering, he says, “You’ve got a phone now. You should give me your number.”

“No.”

“You’re just trying to make my life difficult for no reason!”

You give him another one of your blank stares. In the dullness of the night, obviously the gesture stays meaningless, though Kaiser can sense the bemusement in your silence at least.

Seeing that ignoring the problem at large isn’t turning out to be the winning move, Kaiser sighs and tries to think of what to say. There’s probably some kind of trick to this, some way he could fool you into overlooking his transgressions. Though when you were friends, he never did that to you, and you never left him then. Maybe it’s not necessary. In this situation, it’s proving to even be detrimental.

Kaiser picks at the skin on his neck. It’s to his benefit you can’t see each other well — he’s not sure he’d be able to spit it out without the detachment of the environment. “Listen, I’m not good at this shit, but… If I have to be honest, I was really paranoid. I didn’t want to think about the past and I didn’t want to get dragged back into it, so I was too scared to even write you a letter to tell you I’m fine. But stumbling on you again, it’s probably fucking stupid but I don’t want to lose track of you anymore. It’s lonely.”

“I wasted a year of my life thinking you were dead,” you say.

“I’m sorry.”

“Tomorrow’s my free day.”

There’s an uncertain excitement in Kaiser now, as if you might be yanking his chain and he doesn’t want to commit to the feeling right away. “Sure, I’m leaving after tomorrow, so that works. Meet me here and we can catch up.”

“I see this shitty beach enough as it is,” you say.

“Yeah, but not the way you’re supposed to.”

You shrug.

Without prompting or any indication that you care, Kaiser says, “I have a horrible sunburn.” He will always find something to bitch about. It’s like he’s never satisfied.

After a few swipes, you unlock your phone and pass it to him so he can add his contact information. “Then use aloe vera or something. What are you, stupid?”

“I don’t have any,” justifies Kaiser, inputting the digits. His tone is defensive because this is the first he’s heard of it, but it’s not like he’ll admit that.

Your forgiveness is fake, in a way. It’d been a grudge you held for a while and a betrayal you wouldn’t tolerate from anyone else. Maybe you’ll hold it over his head if he displeases you. So it’s not real forgiveness, is it, more so a lenience, a testament to your past, that your love for him somehow prevails over your need to enact the lex talionis.

___

The sand sinks under your weight with each step you take, waves lapping over the shoreline, seagulls and children squealing in the background. Sunset makes everything easier on the eyes and the heat is finally settling down since it’s getting late into the afternoon.

You had a nice time catching up with Kaiser in another part of the city, although he displayed a susceptibility to tourist traps. He gloated a lot, and you pretended you didn’t know about half of it from reading his Wikipedia page that one time when you were fostering your hate boner for him. You told him about how you ran away and ended up in another country and about how you’re still on the missing persons site.

Now you’re going back by the seaside instead of through the streets. You walk side by side, your ankles touching the water. Kaiser’s grin is wide, which makes him seem smug, but this time it doesn’t strike you as forced so maybe he is simply carefree. It’s an unusual sight for you — Kaiser, genuinely smiling.

“I think I’ll come see you again when it’s off season. Or maybe we can arrange for you to come visit me instead. I’ve got all sorts of things I want to show you,” he says. He never really had anything to give you before, and now he takes pride in having the means to do so, regardless of whether you’re interested or impressed.

“Whatever, Micha. You’re so full of it. I bet it’ll be lame or you’ll forget you promised.”

He remains pleased despite the teasing, even happier if possible. “It’s fine if you say pointless shit like that, I don’t mind a challenge. All I have to do is prove you wrong.”

___

Lol at the end of finishing this I teared up in Frustration because I couldn't write this the way I envisioned it and then I couldn't save it through editing either (<- guy who's defiinitely normal and casual ) and I kinda just wanted to be done with it so I'm not gonna hold it hostage any longer either. Idk I'm just mad and depressed about it rn i guess. Thank U all for tapping in

[ordowrites]

wants, desires

cw: afab reader (pronouns not used), slight not sfw content, mentions of masturbation (m), mentions of oral (f. receiving), mdni, minors do not interact, pining, yearning, fantasizing, self indulgent. slight fluff. no established relationship. slow burn. the reader is not the Traveler, the reader is a Vision user. slightly ooc. fade to black.

word count: 2,781

diluc month!!! i love this man and i wish to squish his cheeks between my hands. tbh for as much as i love to imagine him suave, i feel like he's the type to long and pine before awkwardly try to romance someone. i'm sorry for the length of this fic, i got carried away.

Diluc is a gentleman, he is known for his polite way of talking, and perhaps his standoff-ish personality but he is, all around, a gentleman. Raised in nobility, Diluc was taught how to behave and act accordingly, even if he found some of the rules to be stifling. He remembers his father once telling him that there are even proper and acceptable way to court someone (man or woman, so long as he did it properly, it would be alright).

He never listened to those rules much because he always figured he wouldn't need to court someone, after all, arranged marriages were still very common and everyone had assumed he and Jean would be marrying each other (until she turned down his spur of the moment marriage proposal with a polite smile and multiple apologies). After his father died, Diluc had decided that his life was too dangerous to bring someone else into it. Nobody has seen the hell he'd seen and he wishes to keep it that way.

Until you came into the picture, your smile rivaling the sun and your laugh infectious. You came here from Fontaine, is what you explained, showing your encased Vision. You worked for The Steambird for awhile but decided to move back to your late parents home nation of Mondstadt, because your father had always spoke so wistfully of it. So, you'd quit your nice and cushy reporter job and joined the Adventurer's Guild and are now able to work at its branch in Mondstadt.

He'd memorized every detail you shared with him, because you were just so fascinating to him. Diluc hated the way Kaeya's arm slung around your shoulders as if the two of you have been buddies your entire lives. Rosaria barely graces you with attention, simply electing to enjoy her drink with two extroverts intent on disrupting her peaceful night. You do not care for any rude putdown, allowing it all to roll off your shoulders.

When Kaeya becomes too drunk - supposedly - to carry on a decent conversation with you, Diluc picks up the slack. It's awkward and uncomfortable at first. Your name is sweet in his mouth, he tastes it and swirls it around some and fears that if he speaks it, he may taint it.

Interacting with you was a different level for him, it was strange because you were the first one in his life to make him lose his footing, make him lose his breath, and make him nervous. But not in the same way Adelinde makes him nervous when she places her hands on his hips and gives him a disapproving stare when he tracks blood and mud on her clean floors, not in the way Jean makes him nervous when she challenges some of his more intense ideals. This nervous was different, like if he messes up, that's it. His words are carefully chosen, he practices your name every morning, trying to get used to saying it in hopes that if he sees you around, he can call out to you like it's a normal, every day occurance.

And he does see you around sometimes, in the green uniform assigned by the Adventurer's Guild (truly, you would look much better in the clothes he could provide if you were his-) but you're always too busy to stop and engage in conversation. This does not stop you from waving at him, acknowledging his presence when he accidentally stops and stares for a little bit too long. Sometimes he gawks like a teenage boy and he can't help himself.

Diluc is a gentleman, he knows better than to have thoughts about you - it feels wrong when you creep into his mind too late at night and leave him wanting. His hand around his cock, his fingers working quick as he guiltily thinks what you might look like undone because of him. Wonders what you might taste like, how your legs would quiver around his shoulders while his tongue laps hungrily at your folds, and wonders what you'd sound like when you call out his name in desperation.

When those nights happen, he can't even look at you in the eyes when he sees you next. Diluc knows all of this is normal, but it doesn't feel normal for him.

He has your favorite drink memorized - you aren't a heavy drinker, alcohol wasn't much of a thing in Fontaine unlike coffee and tea. So, always one drink, nothing heavy, but it you like it sweet and fruity. Unlike Kaeya, he lets you have a free drink every once in awhile, tries to relish in the way you look at him with wide eyes and a bright smile. Tries to ignore the way his heart pounds and his breath quickens when you thank him. (You could ask him for the entire world and he will try to get it for you)

Diluc tries to recall all the lessons his father gave him on romance and dating, realizes that many of those lessons are a bit outdated and perhaps, would not work on someone like you. He considers asking Adelinde before deciding that he didn't want the third degree from his head housemaid (who is more like a mother to him).

So, he elects to watch you from afar - learn your likes and dislikes because talking to you is somehow harder than fighting a Mirror Maiden or being involved with a particularly difficult business partner.

And it dawns on him how stupidly mundane and normal it is to have a crush on someone. Diluc wasn't ever sure he was capable of normal. He can't do things normally and he's come to accept this at some point.

By some happenstance, he learns of your favorite flower and orders a bunch of them to be sent to you - anonymously, of course. Although, he wishes he could have your attention when they arrive at your doorstep from Fontaine, wondering if you're happy to receive them or not.

"Someone sent me flowers," you mention to him, one evening. Lately, you've been coming around more and more without Kaeya with you. You've made your own little group of friends here, easily fitting right in and he always tries to imagine where his place would be in your group of friends and it always spirals to him as your partner, your beloved. Your husband. "The note that came with it was very sweet, but I wish that it wasn't anonymous so I could thank them. I've been missing Fontaine recently."

Diluc swallows the lump in his throat, clears his throat - a strange nervous habit he has.

"Would that not take the romance out of it?" When you give him a strange look, he feels his face grow a bit hot. "I mean, I hear some of the maids talk about how they'd love to have a secret admirer, something about it being more romantic."

"Master Diluc," you gasp. "Are you, perhaps, a secret fan of romance novels?"

"Did I not just tell you I only hear these things from the maids?"

You smile a bit. "You're hard to tease, you know that?"

"My apologies." You blink, confused and he clears his throat again. "So, who do you think might have sent you those flowers?"

You open your mouth to say something, possibly another teasing comment before deciding against it. "I'm not sure," you admit. "I don't often have romantic entanglements. I had one partner back in Fontaine and it ended up as a disaster. We were colleagues and it was so stupid." You sigh. "He was never the type to buy me flowers."

Diluc makes note that he will spoil you proper with flowers when you become his.

After a few weeks, he orders you another batch of flowers - this time a mix of your favorite and another common flower from Fontaine. Rainbow Rose, pretty pink roses that he pictures would liven up the manor, and be in abundance at the wedding the two of you could have.

No, he has to tell himself. You can't get that far.

"What is on your mind tonight?" Diluc asks as he makes your favorite drink. You look at him, as if trying to read him. "That secret admirer of yours again?"

"Yeah. Flowers, again." You say. "No note this time, which is disappointing." You rub your forehead. "Master Diluc, what would you do if you have the feeling some anonymous person was trying to court you?" Diluc gets the feeling you're fishing for answers.

"That has never been a concern of mine." He tells you. "Most women who try to catch my attention are never discreet about it."

"You make it sound like that's the worst possible thing in the world."

"If they were not doing this simply so their fathers could secure a better business deal with the Dawn Winery, I suppose I wouldn't mind it." He doesn't dislike it but none of those women ever really hold his attention, although he's entertained a few of them in his time, the courting never went beyond a few meetings before they'd decide he just wasn't for them.

"You don't strike me as the type to like being given that kind of attention," you admit. "Ever the evasive and strange Master Diluc. Perhaps I have you pegged all wrong."

"Oh?"

"Mm," you say as you take a sip of your drink. "Rich men tend to throw their money and power around to garner themselves a romantic partner. Honestly, it's gross."

"Well, I have never seen the point in doing so." Diluc answers, bluntly, feeling a bit insulted you'd even thought of him that way. "So tell me, then, how do you like to be courted?"

"Well, for starters, as lovely as the secret admirer thing is, I prefer if someone can actually tell me if they have feelings for me," you inform him. "Anonymous flowers once is nice, twice will have me wondering if they even respect my time."

"Ah - would you like other gifts then?"

"No - well, I don't - ugh, that's hard to answer." You push your hair back and he loves the way it falls around your face. He loves that, even though you don't get drunk, you can get a bit more relaxed and looser with your words as you drink. "I mean, I'd like if the person who is...trying to court me as you say, would just tell me and do it properly."

"I see."

"Have you never been in a romantic relationship before, Master Diluc?" Maybe you do know and he should come clean. He swallows, Adam's apple bobbling.

Once, he thinks. Jean and I had this whole fake wedding when we were kids. But that doesn't count.

"Not really, no."

"Oh."

In this moment, he desires to lean over the counter and kiss you. See what you taste like with remnants of that fruity drink on your lips, if you would get angry or if you would lean into the kiss. He desires for his hands to wander, for you to invite him to touch you even further -

"Aw, drinking without me, my delightful friend?"

"Evening, Captain."

"Kaeya."

Diluc is a gentleman, and he is quite the heartbreaker, he knows this. He'd sent many noble women crying by accident - rejection hurts or his indifference is worse. Adelinde would scold him many times for it, reminding him that he should still be considerate of their feelings. But it's never his fault that they get upset for being told he's not interested.

With you, he has fantasized about kissing you, dramatic love confessions (because apparently those are a thing in romance novels from what he's heard Hillie and Mocco say as they worked), or just simply telling you, but it feels wrong to simply confess.

This pining is getting him nowhere, and he worries about sending you more flowers and earning your ire instead.

So, at the advice of Adelinde - after he tried to lamely claim it was Kaeya who was looking for the advice - he starts to write you letters. Many, but none quite fit what he feels. He can give you all the flowery words in the world, but they are not succinct enough. Diluc isn't exactly the best at words, not like Kaeya, who can have both men and women swooning very quickly. He's always held the attention and engagement of crowds and Diluc finds himself envious of that.

Finally, he elects to do something so stupidly simple.

He writes you a letter in the dead of night, exhausted from a days work, requesting if he could court you properly this time around. And he sends it.

Because of course he did.

Because that's what a proper gentleman should do, right?

You are late for your weekly visit to his tavern, and Diluc finds himself wishing he had Charles manning the bar tonight instead of him. Though why should he be acting like a lovesick schoolboy? He is a grown man.

An hour goes by, and you're not in your usual spot and he fears he may have driven you off with that letter that never should have been sent in the first place.

When you do finally arrive, it's an hour before closing and you look beat. But your smile, when you see him, is still as radiant as the sun (though perhaps that's him imagining things, he doesn't know anymore).

"You're...late." Diluc observes as you half slump in your seat, bag dropping to your side. "Are you okay?" Perhaps you haven't read his letter and that's why everything is almost relatively normal.

"I'm okay," you finally answer as he starts to make your drink. "Sorry I'm here an hour before you close, it's been a long day."

He sets the glass down in front of you. "Do you wish to talk about it?"

"Tsarvitch is such an asshole," you grumble. "Tsarvitch? More like Tsarbitch."

"Yes, I hear he can be a bit difficult." You lapse into a silence, watching him. "Do you wish to talk about something else?" You reach down, grabbing your bag and pulling out an envelope with the Winery's wax seal in blue. He has to look away.

"I received this letter from the Dawn Winery," you tell him, pointing to the blue wax seal and the return address. You pull the letter out of the envelope, and it's clear you've read it multiple times since he sent it a week ago. "From someone asking if they could properly court me." He doesn't want to look at the contents of that letter, he was deliriously tired when he wrote it. "Who, at the Dawn Winery, could have sent this?"

"I'm-"

"How come you didn't sign your name?" Diluc can't answer that. He doesn't remember what was going through his head. "My answer, though, Master Diluc, is yes. You can properly court me."

His heart pounds in his chest as he meets your eyes. Of course, the answer was so simple - Archons, why couldn't he have done this in the first place? A few whole months wasted, when he could have spent it with you in his arms.

"Are you sure? I'm-"

"I'm sure." You interrupt. It's not often someone of nobility seeks to date someone who is not a noble, but he can't help it. Diluc just hopes that they won't eat you alive, though he has a feeling you can handle your own when it comes to the more judgmental types. He may have to protect them from you.

"In that case," Diluc says, hoping he won't scare you away. "May I kiss you?"

"Always."

He delights in your answer, moving to step outside of the counter so the damn thing isn't in his way so he can fully and properly enjoy you. He cups your face between his hands, bending down some and pressing your lips together. Soft, sweet - Diluc is a selfish man sometimes and he longs for more when you break away.

You whisper something as he pulls you back in for another kiss. Your hands wrap around his shoulders and entangle in his hair. A small part of him longs to lift you up and take you on the counter, but he needs to take this slow. He is a gentleman after all, properly court before bringing you to bed with him.

Yet, you refuse to let the kiss end this time around, chasing after him.

"I want you," you whisper. "Diluc."

"No dinner first?"

"Ugh, you can make me breakfast instead." That was all he needed for him to quickly close down the tavern. Diluc is a gentleman after all, and it'd be rude to keep you waiting.

[hearts4renaa]

AIN'T GOTTA TELL ME.

summary: things that the ‘95 line do that show how much they love you. gender neutral reader contains: drabbles for each member, pure fluff, established relationship a/n: i listened to "i think he knows" by taylor swift while writing. my first svt work! pls enjoyyy <3 and yes, i will get to the other members!

S.COUPS/CHOI SEUNGCHEOL | seungcheol has his eyes on you at all times, in a lovestruck daze.

“-ungcheol? seungcheol?” a hand waving in his face snaps cheol out of his daze. he blinks for a few moments before looking at who was asking for his attention. his eyes make it’s way to jeonghan, who’s leaning against his hand with a smirk. “seems like someone’s got your attention.” he teases.

he shakes his head, brushing off his comment. “oh, be quiet.” and suddenly, he finds his eyes drawing to you once again. you were striking up a conversation at the kitchen counter with dino, sipping on a glass of water. his chest feels all warm, seeing how you interact with the boys. nothing makes him happier than seeing all his loved ones get along. he feels the corner of his mouth perk up ever so slightly at sight of your animated conversing. then, all the chatter of his bandmates began to fade out, until there was only you. he had never seen anything more beautiful.

jeonghan laughs next to him. “you’re so obvious.”

seungcheol rolls his eyes, but deep down, he feels a fuzzy feeling start to build up.

YOON JEONGHAN | jeonghan drinks your shots for you.

“aeeey! y/n!” soonyoung’s voice is giggly, already drunk and long gone. the 14 of you were playing numerous drinking games, and with each loss, everyone slowly got drunker. obviously, soonyoung wasn’t too skilled in these games. unfortunately, you were the victim this time. “drink! drink! drink!” mingyu and dokyeom chanted playfully, with seungcheol already starting to pour a shot for you.

you laugh and shake your head. “nope, can’t drink more today.” they collectively groan, but you know they’re not serious. “sorry, boys.”

“aiii, come on!” seungkwan complains lightheartedly.

jeonghan extends his arm forward. “give it here, i’ll drink it.” his hand beckons the alcohol to him.

you turn to him. “you sure, hannie? you don’t have to.”

“mmm,” he mumbles before downing the alcohol. “it’s for you.” he smiles. you smile back and kiss him on nose.

seungkwan whines out loud. “hey, where was that energy before soonyoung got wasted?!?”

HONG JISOO/JOSHUA | joshua brings little gifts for your parents when he visits.

“oh joshua, aren’t you the sweetest?” your mom coos, admiring the bouquet of flowers he brought for her. she turns the vase around delicately, smiling at the arrangement. joshua smiles pridefully from beside you. “how did you know i liked carnations?” she asks him.

“ah,” he starts, flashing his award winning smile. “you mentioned them last time we were over for dinner.” he explained.

this only makes your mother beam even more. “oh joshua, you are such a gentleman!”

“i brought this for you too,” joshua turns to your father next. he hands him a bottle of leather cleaner, along with a brush. “i’ve always seen you with leather shoes. i figured you might appreciate this.”

your dad smiles too. “thanks, sport.”

“now come on, let’s go eat!” your mom exclaims. your parents head to the dining room.

he looks back to meet eyes with you, and you could feel how much love he has for you. “thank you.” you whisper. he kisses you on the forehead before speaking. “now, shall we join them?”

[etheries1015]

Hello can I request a fluffy fic about how Jack would interact tereact their s/o while he’s using his unique magic? I hope it’s not too weird of a request

Its not weird at all! I actually think this concept is super cute 😭 thank you for the request <3 I hope you like it <3

Jack seldom used his unique magic, save for the times he desperately needed to. It took a lot of energy to maintain his wolf form, and it wasn't a very common type of magic, either. That didnt stop you from asking him to, and I quote, "Turn into the fluffy wolf again!!!" Wanting to preserve his magic (and avoid becoming your play thing...) He would find an excuse each time to gently refuse your insistent prodding.

There was one particular day though, one in which you found yourself deep in a hole of...well, stress. It was a rather difficult day, to say the least. Being the only non magic wielding student at an all-magic school, there were bound to be times you felt to be at an extreme disadvantage. You must had forgotten you chose this day to study with Jack, for when he attempted to find you in the library where you had chosen to meet, you were nowhere to be found.

Finding you crying in the garden of ramshackle was the last thing he thought you would be doing. You were huddled up in an abandoned corner of wilted flowers, hugging your knees to press against your chest as your body trembled with sadness. You heard someone approaching you, yet avoided their gaze in fear of embarrassing yourself further with tears to simply add to your "pathetic feats" of the day. You heard a gentle and familiar sigh, Jack dropping his bag and bending over to meet your eyeline.

"Rough day, I heard," Jack rubbed the back of his neck, "Do you... want to talk about it?" Shaking your head, Jack pursed his lips. He never particularly felt as if he were good at comforting people, for his actions always seemed to speak louder than his words. He wasn't used to seeing your smile fade like the wilted flowers, or hearing muffled cries escape your typically optimistic mouth. Thats when it clicked in him, the one thing he felt would be able to cheer you up...he hoped.

You heard rustling sounds before the familiar sound of magic casting, head flicking up in time to hear his chant and watch Jacks form morph into that of a great wolf with long untouched white fur. You let out a gasp of surprise as a smile quickly took over your face, Jack utilizing his now wolf form to nuzzle your cheek against his own. You opened your arms to hug him, petting the silky fur that you only dreamed of being able to pet.

"Get on," Jack encouraged, "I wanna show you something." You double checked if he was certain he would be alright with you upon his back, his response was eagerly inviting you on and insisting he was more than capable to do as much. He lowered his body for you to comfortably climb onto his back, hugging him firmly while shoving your face into his deep soft locks of fur. Determining you were secure enough, Jack ran.

He ran through the woods a rather short trip because of his sheer speed, it seemed as if only a few minutes had past before you made it to the destination, Jack allowing you to get off his back. Before you stood what looked to be an abandoned projecy, entering the decently sized house that lay on the floor between two older looking trees. The floors were crooked and the ceiling was rotting from moist wood, the inside bare of furniture and appliances. It truly seemed to be a work in progress that someone had decided was no longer worth the time.

"I found this place not too long ago," Jack admitted, "During a run. I meant to bring you here sooner after I fixed up a couple things, I think it'll make a fun hideout one day! Or a study spot for us!" You side eyed wolf Jack, raising a suspicious eyebrow.

"Are you sure you weren't trying to trick me into jogging here sometime with you to get my daily dose of exercise in?" He let out an (almost offended) chuckle.

"You're failing gym, it takes a lot to do that." He joked. You embraced him once more, shuffling your head between his shoulder blade and falling to the ground bringing him with you.

"I can't maintain this form forever," He said almost reluctantly, his heart warmed from the affection you gave him. You nodded into his shoulder and breathed in shakily, Jack laying down on his side and allowing you to cuddle against him.

"Just...a little longer," you muttered, "is it weird? I'm sorry." Jack shook his head, giving your cheek a small and affectionate lick and rubbing his soft head into the crook of your neck as if to hug you back.

"Not at all," He replied. You two remained like that for a short period of time, before Jack had to revert back to his original all too soon in your opinion, to his tall and strong human form. His arms were now wrapped around you in a normal hug, to which you responded with a kiss against the soft skin of his cheek.

"Thank you again," you smiled gently at him. Jacks cheeks took on a rosey hue, looking away shyly with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips and a hum of thought escaping them.

"Maybe I should do it more often..." You sat up in excitement, stars in your eyes as he almost immediately regret the words slipping out his mouth. There began the whole theatrics, You insisted that next time he take you on another journey on his back, or saying something silly about him being your "knight in shining fur" protecting you in a "cool" way against danger. You gushed about the stories you could write about some sort of wolf forbidden romance, and all the other things he heard you laugh about before. This time, he listened to you with love and attentiveness more than he ever had before, not realizing how much he missed your rants.

He was truly glad you were back to being yourself...silly, smiling, utterly perfect you.

~~~~~~~~~

I'm so used to writing for the third years KDHFKWJD I hope he wasn't TOO out of character! If you have any suggestions on how I could improve on this, let me know and I shall update it accordingly~ I hope you liked it and properly answers your ask! If not, feel free to send another one <3

[evelynpr]

bakugou for the character ask game?

Truly the teenage boy, shonen deuteragonist, love interest coded, gay asshole, of all time.

My first impression - Woah I did not understand why people were so into this guy. Like I get it, he's a flawed and loud pretty boy, he gets character development, and probably gay, but seriously him??? His mouth is so fucking foul and he is so up his ass. - I was meh with this character, enjoyed him in fan content, but just did not get why people were sooo into this guy.

My impression now - I cried in "Light Fades To Rain". Twice. - My god his growth...his will, his persistence, and by god his love for Izuku is so ridiculous and powerful I just cannot help but admire the little shithead. - He is also a lot more to me than I expected, with the whole "foul mouth shit", "high expectations bullshit", "violent urges", and "dedicating your whole life and love to someone you love and admire" and that...that makes me feel quite conflicted.

Favorite thing about that character - The thing about Bakugou is that...you just cannot help but wish you had the same kind of persistence, strength, will, and power that he does. I love how all this is initially so shallow and selfish, then grows to wanting to be a better and truer hero. He really learns and changes and is just an unstoppable force of nature, it's genuinely incredible and beautiful to watch.

Least favorite thing - I wished that the overall writing did go harder in making him stop bad-mouthing people and...everything so much. You can tell he did grow to respect and care for people around him more, but by gods he is sooo bad at communicating his feelings right now. (tbf, he is so fucking young and traumatized) - Also, really please stop hitting people. I get a knee-jerk reaction to that kind of physical violence sometimes ngl.

Favorite line/scene - There are so many. I already mentioned his death in "Light Fades to Rain" so I'll mention a different one - Team Bakugou in Class A vs B was so goddamn good, for being a monumental milestone of his character. How much he trusted his teammates and put himself in danger to save others, winning in the end. No injuries, no failures, truly a perfect beautiful victory. How he also pushes Deku to keep getting better afterwards in his usual constipated-ass language too. Man I just love that battle to death.

Favorite interaction that character has with another - (me pulling out scenes that aren't bkdk centered here hahaha) - I fucking LOVED the Bakugou vs Ochako fight. It made me love Ochako so so much as a kid. I really wished we had a follow-up to that battle, and it genuinely changed my life. - I love how it really shows just how focused and rational he is in battle. How he truly respects his opponents, Ochako in this case, and the sports festival really establishes so much about him.

A character that I wish that character would interact with more - Speaking of which...OCHAKO VS BAKUGO 2 COME ONNNN - There is SO MUCH these two need to talk about. How to save people, who they want to save, who saved them, never underestimating each other, how they changed and grew. I just love these two characters to bits, that's why I need them to FIGHT AND TALK SO BADDDD - Additional: Also Toga (see my post on Toga right before this one lmao), Shoto (because I still don't really get their friendship but its hilarious, and I love Shoto)

Another character from another fandom that reminds me of that character - I legit cannot think of anything here...like for Toga...I am so sorry my brain is blanking T__T - It's hard to be a massive anger-issue filled, victory-focused, die for their lover (twice), amazing chef, all at once, kinda guy...you know?

A headcanon about that character - I am a believer in trans!fem Bakugo in the future. He's so ridiculously angry for some reason, voice always cracking, and just on-edge for some reason. Idk I just think its hilarious and satisfying if he transed his gender in the future and became happier and more comfortable.

A song that reminds of that character - I also have a Bkdk playlist in the making! Here's some bkg focused songs in character development order: - Boys will be Bugs, President Perfect, Top of my School, Oh No!, I'm Gonna Win, The Last of the Real Ones, Skyfall, Die For You, Set Fire to the Rain

An unpopular opinion about that character - Like Toga, he actually isn't possessive. I think he quite well understands and accepts that Izuku is a very loving person that many people are easily drawn to (I mean, he'd be a hypocrite if he didn't understand that). - He is protective instead of possessive. He keeps an eye out for anything and anyone who could possibly actually hurt Izuku, but he doesn't hold him back at all in hanging around with others, and when other people fall for Izuku either. - He is actually quite skinny, and doesn't have the big thick buff guy build. Those go to Izuku and Iida more imo.

Favorite picture - I never really thought of this much??? I love art of him being softer, more solemn, quiet and contemplative even. I guess I'll go pick out some favs right now...

Here they are! Hope you enjoy the post lmao

[heart4reigns]

DRAGGED, roman reigns.

warnings: curse words, kayfabe, bitch (y/n) alert!!

tags: austin theory trying to flirt, kissing, paul heyman being annoying, just pure agony between these two losers, pet names

summary: it's not an act, she's just a bitch

TURNING heel was definitely a career-defining moment for you. it was easier for you to be portrayed as the 'bad guy' in this industry. it made people think that you are, in fact, a bitch in real life–which was true. that helped people stray away from you. you were untouchable. no one dared to cross your path. people backstage remembered the 'austin theory' incident.

he thought you were only unapproachable on stage, but you were still the same after the camera stopped rolling. the male-wrestler decided it was a good idea to ask for your phone number and flirted a bit with you, in front of the crew, of course. things took a turn when you didn't say anything and just walked away. to say the least after that day, you were the talk of the town and no one bothered you.

after showing your face on tv, you went backstage in a hurrying matter–wanting to go home as fast as you could. you thanked god that the hallway to the parking lot was empty–so you thought–as you spotted a certain man in a suit. it was none other than paul heyman. of course he was there, he was everywhere.

you hated the entire bloodline (with an exception of solo and the twins) which leaves only paul and roman. they were insufferable. "hey, new girl." he greeted you. "what do you want?" your tone was cold. "you did great out there, you have so much potential." you only nodded in response. "is that all?" his eyes widened in surprise.

paul confirmed it himself that the rumors were true, you were hard to crack. "i'm interested in your future, you know, the draft is happening in a few days. you heard about it?" "yeah, and?" you knew he was a higher up in the board, but you couldn't careless. you were tired and you wanted to go home. "'if that's all, i'll be going home." without waiting for his answer, you went outside.

after hearing your footsteps fade away, paul immediately pulled out his phone and made the call. "hello, yes, you'd love her."

the next following days were somehow boring; you couldn't careless about the draft happening, you knew you were always going to be with the blue brand.

to say the least, the backstage was crowded with people. you passed crews doing their own job, like usual. wardrobe passed the iconic blue shirt that they were bringing back since the 2000s. "now we have to wear this thing again?" you raised an eyebrow at the staff. "y- yes. the boss asked us to bring it back." you sighed in agony. "okay." was all that came out of your mouth.

you sat at the very back, not wanting to gain attention from anyone. but like a diamond in a sea of blood, you stood out. one by one, the stars entered the room, you spotted your coworkers, only nodding at them when they greeted you. and there he was.

the undisputed wwe universal champion, roman reigns. you've never interacted with him or even spared a glance at him. he had this aura that you hated. he was just as dominant as you were. people were intimidated by his position and the power he had. he just had to sit right next to you.

he was alone. what a rare sight. the twins were two rows in front of you. so it was quite strange for the tribal chief himself to not sit in front, gaining everyone's attention. but then again, you couldn't careless. you could feel his eyes on you. "what do you want?" you asked, each word laced with ice. he didn't respond. "then stop staring at me, we're rolling in 5."

the draft started and everyone got into character. not you though, you were still the same. you saw triple h, speaking to the microphone. "this first pick, goes to smackdown, and they select... all four drafted as one. paul heyman, solo sikoa, the undisputed wwe universal champion, roman reigns. and the lone wolf, (y/n) (l/n). the bloodline!" the camera panned to the two of you as you heard people in the room gasping. "what the f–"

and things went downhill after that.

the cameras stopped rolling and you didn't know what to do. your entire career path was a mess. no one said anything to you about being drafted with the bloodline. the last thing you remembered before you were dragged into a meeting room was that smug look plastered on roman's face. as soon as the door closed, leaving 6 people–including you, alone, hell broke loose. "what the fuck is this about?" you raised your voice.

"listen, (y/n)." paul was the first one to speak up. "no, you listen to me you little shit. i was doing fine alone, now i am dragged into this bullshit family drama without me knowing? what the fuck happened to diplomacy?" you furrowed your eyebrows. solo, jey, and jimmy were speechless. people would kill to be in the bloodline. "you just had to drag me into this mess that i don't want. i would prefer to be drafted to raw for fuck's sake."

"leave." a word came out of roman's mouth, instructing the other 5 to leave the room and they did. this was the very first time you were left alone with the tribal chief himself. the room was quiet, tension so thick, you could cut it with a knife. "if you think i am scared of you, you're wrong." you barked at him. "calm down, babygirl." the black-haired man chuckled. "do not fucking call me babygirl, i have a name."

you didn't know what was going on in the minds of the creative board, but you didn't like it. "if you stop being a hot-headed babygirl, we can talk terms." he said. "then fucking explain it! i was doing so good alone, roman. i don't even know you." you continued. "it was my idea to include you in the bloodline." he paused for a second to stare at you.

"paul saw your potential and i watched your match against bayley. this entire lone wolf act, you fit right in." "well, it's not an act. i work alone." you glared at him, trying to fight back. "fuck you, i don't want to see you." he leaned in closer and grabbed your chin. "babygirl," roman paused for a second, not breaking eye-contact. "i'm not going anywhere." oh it was so on for the two of you.

the first match was in 2 weeks. it was already stressful enough for you to train with the bloodline. you arrived at their usual gym, still pissed off by the fact that you weren't going to train alone. "hey, (y/n)!" jimmy greeted you with a smile. you nodded in response and went straight to the ring.

roman was standing there with a clipboard in his hands, scribbling something down. "you're late." he said, not looking at you. "blame my uber." paul entered the ring with the twins and solo. "so i just got word from creatives that they're going to push the two of you," paul paused for a second to point at you and roman. "into a tag team."

just when you thought things couldn't get worse than before, it did. "you gotta be shitting me." you cursed out. the smug look came back once again. "they're putting you up in a match with sami and kevin." the four wrestlers chuckled. "this is so funny." jey chuckled. "oh they're going to love it." paul added.

the training started and surprisingly, the chemistry between roman and you were unmatchable. you never doubted him and his strength and the same goes to him. "punch him as the last move." you suggested, scribbling down some additional notes. "and you'll flip owens over the ropes." he knew exactly what you were thinking about. "right." then again, you were kind of surprised how well the two of you were in-sync.

training ended, leaving only you and roman in the gym. the others left as they didn't have anything to do. you hated the fact that the two of you were a match. "you did great, babygirl." he said, taking off his gloves. "call me 'babygirl' one more time and i'll knock you out without any hesitation." you stared at him. roman chuckled darkly. that was kinda hot, you thought. "i'm leaving."

"no, you're going to eat with me." "and what if i say no?" you raised an eyebrow. "i'm going to kiss you on live television." this man was getting on your nerves. "if you do that, i'm actually going to fucking kill you." and there you were, in his car, eating your feelings away. you hated this. you hated the fact that you were under his control.

you didn't want him to actually kiss you on live television, it could damage your cold image. "are you always this hard to deal with, sweetheart?" he asked you, taking a bite of him fries. "are you always this fucking annoying to women?" "only to you, baby." you groaned in frustration. "why do you work alone?" questions kept coming from him. "because i don't like people."

"but you'll like me soon." like hell i would, you thought. sure he was handsome, everyone wanted to be with him, but his ego was triple the size of his achievements. “you know, you were once a men’s locker room topic.” you furrowed your eyebrows. “what does that supposed to mean?” you took a sip of your drink. “the guys had a bet on who could have your number first. i didn’t participate because it was pretty dumb.” roman chuckled at the memory.

“i’m not something to bet on.” you defended yourself. “i know, that’s why i told them to call it off. but some of them, not naming any names, didn’t listen.” you had flashbacks of the austin theory incident. “god, people are so fucking dumb sometimes.” it was the first time that he heard you laugh. “sorry, i just hate it when people think that they can easily break me by flirting with me and all. it doesn’t work like that for me.”

“so what works for you?” he asked. “nothing works for me, i’m here to get paid. not flirt with people and be a trophy that men can just carry around.” your answer made his eyes softer than before. “don’t fucking cry on me now, big boy. i don’t need empathy.” you barked. still, the toughest one out there, he thought. “anyways, paul asked about what do you wanna do to gain attention for our match?” he stirred the conversation to work stuff.

“i don’t know, don’t need anything, people will either boo at me or they’ll praise the ground i walk on. what do you wanna do?” you returned the question. “let me kiss you.” that sentence made you choke on air. “be fucking for real, roman.” you stared at him. “i’m serious, babygirl. imagine the views, the engagements, the talk. you said you wanted a great match? i’ll give you a great match.” you were not going to kiss this hot man for the sake of views. “not going to fucking happen.” “trust me, i’m a good kisser. and i know you’re attracted to me.”

the booking decision went viral on social media. it was shocking news to everyone. you grew okay to working with the bloodline, you were able to tolerate all their antics including roman’s flirty nature. d-day came and you were ecstatic for it.

the locker room was filled with excitement. "LET'S GO, LET'S GOOOOO!" the twins were pumping with adrenaline. "WE'RE GOING TO EAT SHIT UP TODAY!" jey said. "jesus, calm down would you?" you rolled your eyes at him. "NO I CANNOT CALM DOWN, THIS IS D-DAY!" he was bumping his chest with sami. the locker room's excitement quickly died down as one of the staffs called in for you and roman.

the choreography worked out well for the 4 of you. countless practices and you were ready to go. "let's go." roman said, dragging you out to the hallway. "i can walk on my own, big dog." he smirked. "not in my world." roman was practically holding your hand. "it's good for the act." he assured you. what act? you just want to get it with me, you thought.

"for the first time ever, the undisputed wwe universal champion and the lone wolf in a tag team match against sami zayn and kevin owens, this is history!" the announcer yelled. walking down to the ring was painful for you as roman kept holding your hand. you kept a straight face along the way, hoping that he would drop your hand soon, but he didn't.

the match started and it was going well, until kevin accidentally tripped and landed on you. you clenched your teeth in pain. this is why you didn't like working with people. you pulled through and there was only one move left. roman's eyes was filled with concern but you gave him a quick nod and flipped kevin over the ropes. "and your here are your winners for the tag team match, the undisputed wwe universal champion, roman reigns and the lone wolf, (y/n) (l/n)!" he looked at you with a huge smirk plastered on his face.

oh shit, you thought. he was going to do it. "you are not going to kiss me!" you shook your head in panic.

there you were, standing still, while he kissed your lips. the entire crowd went wild. you know what? fuck it, for the views, you thought. you responded to the kiss and left him in shock. "what? cat got your tongue?" you lifted his hand up, acknowledging your victories. "i'm going to give you hell for this." you mouthed at him. "look at them, the lovebirds! that should be their tag team name!”

the locker room atmosphere was unbeatable. everyone was praising you for your moves. "(y/n), that was amazing!" kevin greeted you with a smile. "i'm sorry i kinda botched the last move, i wasn't very careful." he apologized. "yeah, we're good. although it hurts like a bitch but that's life." kevin still felt bad. "dude, chill. now go away and get some rest." you assured him that you were going to be okay.

roman came back to the locker room, after being the last one to exit the ring. that was a long ass outro, you thought. "babygirl, you did so good." a shiver ran down your spine. "of course i did." you took off your gloves. "you're a good wrestler and an even better kisser." your cheeks flushed. "why the fuck did you do that?" "because i wanted to."

"you could've just asked." you were challenging him. "so, can i get a kiss now?" he raised an eyebrow. "no." you barked at him. "i always get what i want." the cocky tone made you agitate. "you know what? fuck it." you stood up from your seat and leaned closer to him. it caught him off-guard as you placed your lips on his. the locker room cheered as they saw you provoking the tribal chief himself. "you got what you wanted, now i want something in return. i want you to take me on a proper date so you can get a proper kiss."

[foressfaction]

Another day, another essay

Toby is a closed off individual. It stuns from his younger years where he was always an introvert until he was comfortable with someone. He acts cold and careless, ignorant to most things. It takes someone special to him for him to truly open up and “be vulnerable” as that’s what he fears being. He does not want to come off as weak mentally or physically even if he is. He will know he’s losing a fight but will still push through til it’s his blood and his blood only that spills. That’s what makes him the way he is. It also explains the fact he didn’t speak up about what his dad was doing to him and his family to anyone. Even if they were somewhat close to him. There's things he’d never tell anyone. There's things that he does not want to remember. After so long of trying he did eventually give up on being curious of his past. The people around him. Mostly his co partners in this case being Tim and Brian, showed that it may not want to be dug up. And that he’s accepted that it’s in the past and that it will indeed mess him up even more than before.

Back when Toby remembered everything, it made him a shell of what he once was before Lyras death. His health declined in every way it possibly could. Remembering that core memory could send him into a deeper spiral and therefore chooses to dig elsewhere.

He will give you the cold shoulder, he will display the resting bitch face. He will stare coldly. It does not affect him, he does not care what you think…

On the other hand, if he grows to know you, if you somehow hit that little spot, he will probably be one of your best friends. Trust for him comes earned but also like a subscription. If you repeatedly break it even once his care and trust for you will fade. It doesn’t take a lot but not too little either. He’s very keen on pinky promises and secret keeping. He wants to feel special if he makes someone else feel that way too. It can’t be one sided, he will know..

He gets rather jealous, but not in a violent way. He will show signs of sadness around you and would ask very on topic questions but would avoid any mention of what makes him that way.

He is honestly just a guy, a normal dude who wants to overcome his stupid mind and the way it makes him think. He has horrible communication skills and lacks social cues to the point that realistically speaking.. any kind of human interaction could scare him off. He does prefer sitting in a dark room alone but he hates to admit he wants some kind of attention, rather it be physical, romantic, platonic. There’s probably times where he purposely starts trouble just so a fight could break out. Anything for clarification that he exists.. anything that could remind him that he’s not a rotting corpse and can feel, even if it’s not just pain.

[roses-for-readers]

Devoted Mate ~ Tsu'tey x Reader

Warnings: ⚠️THIS FIC DOES CONTAIN SMUT. IF YOU ARE NOT OF AGE PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT⚠️ piv sex, oral sex (m receiving) mild biting , porn with plot

Synopsis: It's finally Mating time bitches. Probably will be the last addition to this specific fic of mine

Masterlist

It had been a month since the incident that had lead to my courtship with Tsu'tey. I had recovered fairly well with only the occasional pain here and there. Even Mo'at said that in the next day or two the pain should completely fade away.

Currently, Tsu'tey and I were sitting with Jake and Neytiri at the clan's dinner. Making small conversation about our recent activities of the past few days.

"So, have you two been doing well? Nothing that's happened to make you to change your minds about being together?" Jake asks after a small lull in our conversations.

I let out a sigh as I look over at Jake, annoyance and embarrassment playing on my face. "Jake, can you please stop bringing that up?"

He smiles a little as he takes another bite of food. Chewing slowly as he playfully shrugged his shoulders. "What? I'm just curious about how the soon-to-be mated couple is doing. Trouble in paradise already?"

Tsu'tey looked confused by the human phrase that Jake used. I gave him a reassuring smile as I placed my hand on Tsu'tey's cheek. "Ignore him. Everything is fine between us." He smiles in return as he put his hand on my shoulder, glancing down at the necklace that I hadn't taken off since I got it.

Jake let out a small laugh at our displays of affection. Putting his arm around Neytiri with a teasing grin. "Be honest with me. When you meet us, did you ever think Tsu'tey would ever show that kind of affection towards someone who was human?"

Tsu'tey sends Jake a small glare when he makes the comment. But his expression softened as I lightly nuzzled my nose against his cheek. "Ignore him. He's just trying to rile you up."

Tsu'tey mumbled something under his breath, but I didn't quite catch it. What I could understand was him say he would get Jake back later in some way. That brought a smile to my face as it showed that they were definitely getting along.

"It is getting late. We must be leaving now," Neytiri suddenly speaks up as she starts to stand. Taking hold of Jake's arm as she tried to get him to follow.

Jake looks at her confused as he slowly stands up. Glancing between his mate and us. "It's barely even an hour past sundown."

Neytiri shushes him as she gives us a smile. Even shooting Tsu'tey a knowing look before waving goodbye. Jake awkwardly did the same before following after her.

"What was that look that Neytiri gave you?" I ask as I look back at Tsu'tey with a small tilt of my head. But he only ignored me as he stood up and took my hand in his.

"There is a place I would like to take you." That was the only response I got from him as he helped me to my feet. I continued to look at him confused as he began to lead us into the forest to whatever place he had in mind. "A place I know you will love."

I smile a little as I follow behind him. Taking in the sight of the night life that was around us and the boiluminescent plants that lit up the path we were taking.

My mouth dropped open in awe as we came up to a small river. There were multiple flowers and other plants that were hanging in the trees nearby and on the river bank. The soft trickling of the water was like a soft melody to the otherwise quiet night.

"Tsu'tey," I mumble as I walk forward a few steps. Keeping ahold of his hand as I slowly take it all in. Finally looking back at him after a short time with a grin on my face. "It's beautiful here."

He smiled as he reached his free hand out to rest on my hip. Slowly pulling me closer as he placed his head against mine. "I thought you would enjoy it here. I want this to be a place you will always cherish in your memories of us."

I give a soft hum as I press closer to him with my hands resting on his shoulders. Leaving almost no space between our bodies as I looked deep into his eyes. Realizing that this is the spot where he wished for us to become mated before the eyes of Eywa.

"I cherish every moment with you. No matter where we find ourselves," I whisper as I slowly lean closer to him. Softly closing my eyes as we meet each other for a gentle kiss.

It lasts for a few moments before we both pull away for air. A small laugh passed my lips as I open my eyes to see him staring at look of what I could only describe as pure awe. I keep looking into his eyes as I trail my hands down his chest as I begin to sink to my knees.

"What are you doing?" Tsu'tey quickly asks as his eyes go wide. My own brows furrow in confusion at the fact he seemed so hesitant from my actions.

My expression soon relaxes as I realize that was simply a difference in our species. Resting my knees comfortably on the ground, I give him a reassuring smile as I rub his thighs. "It's a human thing that we do sometimes when getting intimate. I want to do it to show how much I appreciated you taking such good care of me. But I promise you will enjoy it very much. And if you want me to stop, just tell me and I will. Okay?"

It takes a few moments, but Tsu'tey finally gives a small nod. I smile up at him as I carefully trace my fingers along his skin until I get to the knot that held his loincloth together. Lightly pulling it loose until the fabric falls off of his hips. Gasping just slightly at the size of him in his natural state.

Glancing up at him, I give him a smile before leaning forward to press a soft kiss on his member. Tsu'tey let's out a startled grunt as he places his hand on the back of my head. But I can tell that he enjoyed it because his member twitched as he began to get hard.

"You doing okay?" I teasingly ask as grab hold of him. Lightly stroking as I place another soft kiss on the tip.

His face scrunched up as I did so, which also caused him to lace his fingers in my hair. "What is the purpose of this?" He managed to get out the words through clenched teeth. Trying to appear as if he wasn't that effected by my actions.

"To make you feel good," I casually whisper before taking him part way into my mouth. Going down just enough for him to touch the back of my throat a few times before pulling away completely. "Does it feel good to you?"

The flustered look on his face along with his slight heaving was enough of an answer for me to know that he was enjoying himself. But he gave a small scowl as he looked down at me. His voice just the smallest bit breathless when he spoke, "Your people's ways seem pointless."

"You can tell me to stop at any time," I point out to him with a grin. Sticking my tongue out as I lick his head. Getting the smallest amount of cum as I keep jerking him off slowly with my hand. I place another kiss to the tip before pulling back to give him a knowing look. "If you really think it's so pointless."

Instead of saying words, Tsu'tey pushed my head back towards his crotch. I giggled softly before opening my mouth again and taking him back in. Bobbing my head to take a little more of him each time with a soft hum. He gave a small grunt at the sensation as he pushed my head down just slightly to take him further in. Smiling around him as I place my hands on his thighs in order to keep myself balanced.

Taking in a deep breath through my nose, I relax my jaw and lean forward as much as I can. Stopping only when his tip grazed the very back of my throat. But that seemed to be just enough for him with the groan that reached my ears. A soft moan tried to make its way out of my throat as he came down my throat.

Once I was sure he was done, I slowly pulled back with a small gasp. Smiling up at him while I swallow quickly as I wipe my chin. Taking hold of his hand as he carefully kneels down to be level with me.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" I teasingly ask rest my head on his shoulder. Grazing my nose against his neck as I do so.

He let's out a soft grunt as he began rubbing my arms. Taking a moment to catch his breath before he finally said, "I still don't understand the whole point of it."

"So you wouldn't mind if this was the only time I ever did that to you?"

"I did not say that." I laugh softly at the slightly offended tone he used. Pulling back to look into his eyes as we continue holding onto one another. Both of us slowly leaning in to share a passionate kiss.

After a short time, we both pull away to catch our breath. Only taking a moment before Tsu'tey reaches back to bring his queue to present to me. My heart starts to pound in my chest as I realize that this was the moment that would change both of our lives.

With deep breath, I carefully pulled mine in front of my body. Keeping a small distance between the two as I looked back into his eyes. Moving my free hand to his shoulder with a small nod. Both of us bringing our queues closer until the tendrils intertwine as we made tsaheylu.

My breath caught in my throat at the sudden rush of new emotions and sensations. My hand trailing down to rest over Tsu'tey's heart, feeling like it was beating in both his chest and mine. Barely registering the feeling of his fingers undoing the knot of my own loincloth through the haze. His hands carefully guiding me to lay down on a soft spot in the ground.

Tsu'tey placed soft kisses along my collarbone and up my throat. Bringing me into a slow kiss as he wrapped his arm around my waist to hold me closer. Only pulling back when I lightly pushed against his chest so I could catch my breath.

"Are you sure you are alright to fully bond tonight?" He asked in a whisper before resting his forehead against mine. Worry evident in his eyes as he tries to see if there were any second thoughts. "We could do it another night if you would prefer."

I grin at his concern of making sure I was actually ready to become fully bonded with him. Grabbing his waist, I press up against him in response to his worries. Sighing at the small bit of friction of his cock rubbing against my clit.

"I am more ready than I have ever been since I came here," I whisper to as I carefully shift my hips until Tsu'tey rests directly at my entrance. Calming my breathing as I focus on him in the moment. "Oel ngati kameie, ma muntxatan."

I feel his heartbeat increase slightly when I say that. His grip becoming more firm as he let's out a mix between a sigh and a groan. Tsu'tey finally pressed himself close to me as he slowly pushed inside. "Oel ngati kameie, ma muntxate."

I hum softly at the feeling of Tsu'tey gently inched his way inside of me. My nails lightly scratching his skin at the stretch. Tsu'tey gave a small grunt as he pushed his hips flush against mine. Both of us taking a moment to catch our breath.

We stare at one another for a few seconds before Tsu'tey slowly begins to move. His thrusts start off shallow, but still hitting just the right spots to cause tingles to go down my spine. He becomes more confident over time, reaching deeper with each roll of his hips. Though he remains loving and sensual with each movement that he was making.

Soft moans pass my lip each time his pelvis pressed up against mine. Also sending soft sensations as he coincidentally rubbed against my clit as well. Causing me to clinch around him as I push back to meet his thrusts.

Tsu'tey let's out a groan before pressing his body down against mine. The weight of him causes a pleasurable hold as my back begins to scrap against small rocks hidden in the dirt. I arch my back slightly at the feels as I slowly got closer to my climax.

Tsu'tey picks up his speed slightly when my walls begin to contract around him more often. I wrapped my arms around his neck as I tried to hold back as long as my body would let me.

Tsu'tey rests his head in the crook of my neck as he begins to pant softly. Thrusts becoming more frantic until he finally stops as he bites down on my neck. Sending me to my own orgasm while he lightly grinds against me as he calms down from his own.

We both lay there to calm down in the afterglow of what we had done. My hand resting on the back of his head while he places a soft kiss over the the spot he bit. Eventually rolling over to lay on his side, but still keeping one arm wrapped around my waist.

I turn my head to look at him, giving him an exhausted smile as my eyes begin drooping. "I love you, Tsu'tey."

He chuckled softly before placing a gentle kiss to my forehead. Holding me close to him to attempt to make me more comfortable. "I love you as well, (Y/n). Sleep well, yawne."

[withacapitalp]

She’s still here.

It’s been seven days since she showed up. Or, at least, it’s been seven days since Steve noticed her. If she died the night of his party, the way Nancy said she did, then it’s been ten days. 

He can still remember the first one. His grandfather. Steve was six when Grandpa Joe died. A freak heart attack when he was in the middle of brushing his teeth. Steve had been forced to go to a strange room filled with people wearing black who were talking in soft hushed tones and crying. 

His dad said that his Grandpa was in heaven, a far away place he could never come back from. No one listened when Steve attempted to tell them that Grandpa Joe was right there. 

Steve kept trying, explaining that his grandfather wasn’t in that box. He was sitting next to Grandma Annie, brushing his hand through her hair while she sobbed into her hands. He even waved to Steve, and he was speaking, but Steve couldn’t hear him. 

Grandpa Joe had faded at the funeral. One minute he was sitting next to Steve, trying to say something, and the next he was gone. Steve’s dad had been forced to carry him out of the church when his son had started screaming about not being able to hear. 

After that, he stopped telling people when he saw the ghosts. He acted like they didn’t even exist. 

In the end, it didn’t really matter that he could see them. They only ever lasted for a few days after dying anyway. The longest he had ever seen was five. There was no point in interacting when there was only one way things could end. Eventually the spirit burned through whatever energy was still keeping them tethered and they would fade away. 

At least, that’s what he always said to himself. 

But she’s been sitting by his pool for seven days. Maybe ten. And she didn’t show any signs of fading. She just sat there on the diving board all day and all night, staring down at the water and dragging the toe of her sneaker along the surface. 

It was like she was a skipping record, repeating the same five seconds over and over. 

Steve usually tried to ignore them, he had a rule about speaking to the ghosts. They weren’t supposed to be here anymore, and talking to them only delayed the inevitable. 

But if she was staying this long, then she needed something, and Steve felt like he owed it to Nancy to at least try and help. 

So for the first time since his grandfather, Steve approached a spirit and called their name. 

“Barb?” 

[faejilly]

i find it kinda silly that warlocks have marks but nephilim don’t, considering the fact that angle blood is potent as fuck

Thus the eternal popularity of wing!fic/wing!art, yes? 💘

On the one hand, this could just be because angels and demons are opposing forces, one cancelling out the other, diametrically opposed on a metaphysical/magical level, so their powers manifest in different ways in their children.

(They're mostly all rather absurdly beautiful after all. Maybe that's their angel mark? *snickers*)

On the other hand, in a slightly more jilly likes making up magic lore point... maybe nephilim aren't half-angel in at all the same way warlocks are half-demon?

And this got long and rambly, so:

It is canon that the children of nephilim are always nephilim... which isn't how inheritance works, generally speaking.

If nephilim were half-angel/half-human in a biological sense, then shadowhunters would presumably be sterile, a combination of two barely compatible bloodlines just like warlocks.

But they can have children. Perhaps that's just something about angelic bloodlines, a power aimed more at life than the demonic bloodlines that seem more like death? (If that was it though, one wonders why would demons be able to have half-human children at all?)

If it was somehow just inheritance, even hand-wavey magical inheritance, nephilim should, one would think, be getting less and less angelic over time, no matter how carefully the Clave tries to manage their family lines.

(And losing the Mortal Cup really would be a death knell for the world, because the nephilim would in fact die out no matter how many children they tried to have, and then the demons would win. It might take awhile, depending on how frequent one thinks incursions are, and how many nephilim there were before the uprising, but still. There is no balance, just inevitable defeat.)

But modern shadowhunters are still capable of killing demons, can still use adamas and runes, can still (however reprehensible this is) overpower and subjugate the down world.

They continue to have angelic power no matter how removed they are from their founders.

They also continue to have angelic powers even when infected/attack by demonic ones. You literally can't take the angel out of a nephilim.

Otherwise Jonathan Morgenstern wouldn't have been able to bear runes, Tessa wouldn't have been able to have children in the books, Luke wouldn't have been a shadowhunter again after his lycanthropy was cured in the TV show. (Deruned shadowhunters wouldn't explicitly be so tempting to demons once they lose their protections.) Which does at first sound like they're still half-angel under the demonic corruption...

BUT!

Fallen angels also still have angelic power, despite being 100% demon.

Magnus' ability to interact with adamas/shadowhunter tools makes that explicit: he's partially angelic even as a half-demon/half-human warlock.

Which is too many halves if nephilim abilities came from being half-angel!

Perhaps, angelic power literally can't be broken down, regardless of anything else happening around it or containing it... instead, angelic grace is simply eternal. Immutable, irresistible, unavoidable... once seen it is never ever forgotten.

Thus purging the angelic core works against Lilith without also making the Institute defenseless, the so-called Herondale birthmark never fades. (Does this mean Clary and her bloodline will also be marked somehow, in a way we have yet to see defined in canon, Ithuriel's grace made manifest on them forever?)

If we follow that logic through the aforementioned Tessa/Jonathan/Luke (perhaps even Max Trueblood and any other deruned shadowhunters who go on to live mundane lives) maybe nephilim are actually still just human. They have children, they live, they grow old, they die.

Perhaps nephilim are forever touched by angelic grace, but never actually part of it?

(Is this in fact part of what makes angels different than demons? They will not corrupt or twist humanity into something other, but they will grant a gift. One that is inhuman, amoral, one that burns cold and eternal and is necessary, perhaps, but not kind. Is this their true problem with Clary's use of runes in the TV show, that she is twisting humanity into something else, that she is corrupting them by combining angelic and demonic and human in a way that is anathema and dangerous to angelic grace? Angels do not interfere with humanity, except to try and prevent demons from interfering with humanity. Thus never stopping Valentine, or interfering with the Clave no matter how ruthless they became. Their sins were still human sins, not demonic ones.)

Maybe nephilim are not inherently immune to demonic influence, to possession or bearing demonic children. The gift of grace allows them to access angelic power, lets them use it to actively protect themselves, much like they're trained to fight and use runes and forge adamas etc. but they are still just human.

This makes Valentine's ability to 'create' a demon that can sneak into the Institute and possess shadowhunters (can kill Jocelyn and poison Izzy) much more palatable. He's not creating something that can bypass nephilim nature. He just found a way past the tools they use to protect themselves.

SO!

Back to my meta on your actual original comment.

Perhaps nephilim do not have marks in the way that warlocks do because they're not half angel.

They're infected like werewolves or vampires, just with a more difficult transmission, only possible through children rather than blood or violence. (And isn't that actually the first thing that does make sense as an angelic trait? Family and bonds and love and life, not death, as the only way to succeed, as the only way to continue.)

They have symptoms of angelic grace, a magical counter to demonic corruption: fortitude and beauty and the ability to use angelic tools. They're the opposing force to vampire speed and seduction and fangs, to werewolf strength and pack and transformation.

This is why they can't do magic like warlocks and seelies, even if they are supernatural. This is why they're still mortal. They're still just human however hard they try to pretend otherwise.

At some level, this is probably part of why the Clave despises werewolves and vampires even more than fae and warlocks. They're all too similar, too clearly an illustration of there but for the grace of angels...

Literally.