#THIS COMBINED WITH MIDDLE CHILDREN IS BREAKING ME APART

[emergingghost]

I WATCHED YOU FALL FROM GRACE YOU WERE GRACEFUL. AFTER ALL ITS A SMALL WORLD. YOU MAY NOT BE AN ANGEL BUT YOU ARE MY GIRL. YOU ARE MY PACK A DAY YOU ARE MY FAVOURITE PLACE YOU WERE MY BEST FRIEND BEFORE YOU WERE MY BEST GUESS AT THE FUTURE

[literaila]

Besides stealing a car (😭) are there any other shenanigans reader and satoru get involved with at tech?

mostly just the typical ruining of all of the vibes with their constant bantering. like… if suguru and satoru are a bad (chaotic) combination—satoru and you???

it doesn’t matter where either of you are. satoru will inevitably find a way to get you involved, and you will put a hex on him for it.

he finds a flower (weed) in the courtyard? it’s basically a bouquet he’s going to shove in your face during the middle of sparing. you intentionally choose the opposite end of the couch in haibara’s room? satoru is throwing a temper tantrum and you’re both being kicked out.

you’ll stand outside the door, arms already crossed.

defensiveness is your most natural state. around satoru, at least. “you’re going to get us alienated from all of our friends.”

“human words, please.”

you scoff, kicking his leg, and then moving a foot away when he stands next to you. “i can’t believe you got me kicked out of another movie night.”

“you’re the one who was talking.”

“because you kept poking me in the side with your foot!”

“sorry some of us aren’t two inches tall.”

“you’re a giant. you need to learn to respect other people’s space, gojo. isn’t that like your whole thing?”

satoru only moves closer again, infinity be damned.

your first interaction was filled with the eons of space between the two of you, the invisible barrier that separated satoru from everyone else.

but after that? it was only atoms apart.

satoru seems inclined to break psychics, as long as he can irritate you by standing so close.

how do you know this? because he’s still wearing that devilish smile that brings you incapable of movement.

“i like being close to you,” he’ll whisper, and what’s the point of arguing any more?

so you stand there right next to him. movie night sucks anyway.

and eventually it gets to the point where all of their friends are constantly ignoring every interaction you have.

except for poor nanami, who doesn’t understand why he has to deal with idiots all of the time. like, seriously. what did he do to deserve it?

as the (self proclaimed) mature one, nanami is in constant dismay over the lack of emotional intelligence and communication between the two of you.

(even at twenty. when you and him reconnect after his defection, nanami is fully expecting to have missed the wedding. he’s going to pay the price for running away, after all.

what he’s not expecting is truckloads of denial and the fact that the two of you are living together, raising children together, and still feigning friendship.

as if the two of you know the first thing about being a worthwhile friend.

it’s a good thing shoko can hold her liquor—because nanami kento has worked too goddamn hard to deal with it alone).

there’s sneaking out late at night, being the errand runners for everyone else, staying in each others rooms even when you’re not allowed.

yaga has aged several years during the first six months that you’re at jujutsu high. and he thought satoru alone was bad enough.

but by far the most annoying thing that occurs when you’re together is satoru’s version of a game.

he learned early on just how jumpy you were. satoru accidentally leans in a little bit too close? you’re flinching until you’re an arms length away. suguru simply walks into a room—with his quiet, catlike movements—you’re gasping when you hear this voice.

but the most amusing part to gojo, of course, is what happens that only he can see.

everyone else assumes that you’re simply startled. and you are, but to a certain degree no one would guess unless they were standing too close.

your cursed technique is inherently defensive, and after a childhood of cowering away from mere specks of dust, it’s not your fault that you instinctively protect yourself from disguised threats.

and it’s not your fault that when someone accidentally scares you, there’s an immediate wall between you and the rest of the world.

a wall that no one, except for one person, can see.

until you meet satoru that is.

and once he realizes what it is, what the cause is—oh boy, he’s running with it.

you’re walking next to shoko? satoru is tiptoeing to your side, and he only whispers a soft “boo,” in your ear.

but it’s enough that when you take a step forward, shoko is running into something that wasn’t there a moment ago.

she groans, and you look around—confused and concerned—and satoru runs away before either of you can manage to catch him.

it’s definitely funnier when he does it and nanami is standing too close to you, though.

it’s a mere game, a little entertainment for the honored one.

and then it turns into something more.

satoru is wrapping an arm around your waist in public—to get a cute little jump out of you, sure—but also so that no one can walk too close to you. no one but him, because infinity cancels out your technique, and satoru never lets you get far.

you’re sitting next to him during a movie night you haven’t been exiled from, and when the dumb horror movie someone (haibara) put on manages to scare you, satoru is blinking at the almost translucent guard your mind puts up.

you can’t relax after that, but he sure as hell can. satoru wraps an arm around you, pulling you even closer—and you can’t even argue (because you’re not standing outside with him again).

and maybe it takes a minute, but your technique is relinquished within eighty seconds of him moving over.

satoru basks in it.

he’s always loved being special—but he loves it even more when it’s applied to you. there’s a exponential growth to the pride he takes in soothing you.

but that’s not important. it means nothing, really.

and don’t worry, because it doesn’t end when both you and satoru have graduated.

sure, nanami and shoko and suguru aren’t there to witness (groan) at your bantering, your scheming, your constant running around each other—a stupid little game of cat and mouse.

but they’ve got some welcome replacements.

after a month megumi would rather die than listen to gojo try and be nice to you while you scowl at him. after a year, megumi is trying to get in the middle of it—mostly because he likes how freaky gojo looks when he’s annoyed.

tsumiki thinks it’s cute, though. for the first two years, that is.

[xdeepinyoux]

US ELECTION Breakdown and the American Neo Nazi flood.

As of 5:34 this morning on November 6th, the 2024 candidate for the next president was announced. While many are celebrating, there are many like myself who are terrified. I am fortunate enough to live in a Blue state (Democrat) but many are not. There will be many people who claim it’s because of the economy that they voted for Trump, unfortunately this is not true. It saddens me to say that as Americans, understanding different aspects of the candidates main running points can be misunderstood and or entirely wrong. Let’s correct and breakdown these misconceptions.

Understanding Trumps Economic Plan:

Trumps plan will endanger, if not entirely bankrupt the American economy. His plan is to raise the taxes of lower class (low income) and middle class taxes while giving a massive tax breaks to those in the 2-1% (those who make a minimum of $900,000 annually).

Nobel prize winners, people who are awarded the Nobel prize for their incredible contributions to humanity:

More than half of the living economist Nobel prize winners (all with different backgrounds and political beliefs) voiced support for Kamala’s plan and labeled it as superior to Trumps. Trump added over 8 trillion dollars worth of debt to the US during his first term in office.

https://www.nytimes.com/2024/10/24/science/kamala-harris-nobel-winners.html

https://www.nytimes.com/2024/10/24/science/kamala-harris-nobel-winners.html

Tariff’s:

Definition- a tax imposed by one country on the goods and services imported from another country to influence it, raise revenues, or protect competitive advantages

Trump plans to impose Tariff’s which would be paid for by the American people, not the country whose goods are being imported. Adding this tax on imported goods will raise our country’s inflation higher. The purpose of this is to create market distortions that can actually harm domestic consumers over time.

The American Economy is Built on Immigrants:

Immigration, specifically undocumented immigrants, are constant talking points in which Trump uses to manipulate and induce fear into MAGA and other voters. By using derogatory language and racial stereotypes, he has created a harmful, dangerous and false narrative of undocumented people. Where Trump claims they are “taking American jobs”, the truth behind the matter is that undocumented migrants are working jobs that Americans do not want and will not work for the pay that is given. This was reconfirmed when Florida Govern, Ron Desantis, exiled and deported thousands of undocumented immigrants in Florida which left American citizens to complain and refuse to work those labor intensive jobs even after food shortages occurred in 2023.

Mass Deportation and what it means for the American Economy:

Mass deportation and demonization of immigrant people will lead to the downfall of the American Economy. Adding to his economic plan, the topic of deporting over a million migrants back to there birth countries would not only cost hundreds of billions of dollars but also cause labor and food shortages that have only been seen in the years 1929 – 1939 (The Great Depression).

What does this mean overall for the American People?

With a deadly combination of mass deportation, higher taxes and tariff’s the American economy will crash. Along with targeting minority groups, inflation will also bring us back to the philosophical question; would you steal bread to feed your family? The question at hand seems simple, yet statistics show the correlation between high crime rates and poverty levels time and time again. As American citizens we will see the rise of Trumps violence for a second term in office. Violent crimes against women and children, hate crimes and other violence against minorities and those who are apart of the LGBT+ community.

Trump has also spoken openly about his desire to rid Americans of their right to choose ranging from topics of abortion to voting. He has recently stated that when he wins American citizens won’t have to vote again after four years. While some may interpret this as it being his second term and therefore no longer being eligible to run again, it may have a much darker meaning. Trump has shown in the past that he has no issues with disregarding the American constitution and overturning democracy. If he were to succeed in overturning future election and voting laws then he would become Americas first Dictator. Furthermore, Trump is a convicted felon with 34 counts including but not limited to: Rape, selling national security secrets to enemy nations, staging a coup to overturn the 2020 election, election interference and voter fraud. Though we have a glimpse of what the next four years will look like it is unsure as Trump is dangerous and unpredictable. Voting for Trump in 2024 is Voting against America.

Final Note:

To anyone living in a red state where you are not safe please see the resources below:

LGBTQ+ INCLUSIVE CRISIS LINES:

Trevor Project: 1-866-488-7386

or text START to 678-678 or online chat

Trans Lifeline: 877-565-8860

Suicide & Crisis Lifeline: 988

[nutraexperts]

GENF20 PLUS: UNLOCK YOUTHFUL ENERGY TODAY! 💪✨

Hey there!

Are you tired of looking in the mirror and feeling like your youthful self is slipping away?

You’re not alone.

Many are asking, does genf20 plus work?

And what about that comparison with serovital vs genf20 plus?

You might be wondering about things like genf20 plus side effects or even where can I buy genf20 plus.

Plus, I’ll share some real-life stories through genf20 plus testimonials, and don’t forget the handy genf20 plus spray option too!

Stick around; we’re diving into everything you need to know about reclaiming that vibrant energy!

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GenF20 Plus

Let’s break down what GenF20 Plus is all about.

This isn’t just another supplement on the shelf.

It's a carefully crafted system designed to boost your body’s natural hormone production.

You know, those hormones that keep us feeling youthful and energetic?

That's right—this product aims to help you feel like your younger self again.

GenF20 Plus Ingredients

The magic lies in its ingredients.

GenF20 Plus packs a punch with a blend of amino acids, vitamins, and herbal extracts.

Here are some key players:

L-Arginine: Known for boosting blood flow.

L-Glutamine: Helps with muscle recovery.

GABA (Gamma-Aminobutyric Acid): Supports relaxation and sleep quality.

Deer Antler Velvet: Traditionally used for vitality and endurance.

These ingredients work together to stimulate your pituitary gland to produce more human growth hormone (HGH).

And trust me, that's where the benefits start rolling in.

GenF20 Plus Benefits

What can you expect when using GenF20 Plus?

Well, let’s talk benefits:

Increased Energy Levels: Say goodbye to those afternoon slumps.

Improved Muscle Mass: Feel stronger and fitter as you hit the gym.

Enhanced Mood: A little boost in HGH can do wonders for your mental health.

Better Sleep Quality: Wake up feeling refreshed instead of groggy.

I’ve heard from users who felt a noticeable difference within weeks.

Take Sarah, 34, who said:

"After just a month on GenF20 Plus, I had more energy than I've had in years! It really changed my daily routine."

GenF20 Plus Dosage

Now let’s chat about dosage.

For optimal results, it’s recommended to take four tablets per day.

Split them into two doses—two in the morning and two before bed.

This helps maintain consistent levels of the active ingredients in your system throughout the day.

GenF20 Plus Directions for Use

Using GenF20 Plus is straightforward.

Just follow these simple steps:

Take four tablets daily.

Drink plenty of water.

Pair it with a balanced diet and regular exercise for best results.

It fits seamlessly into any routine without complicating things too much.

GenF20 Plus Instructions

Always keep these instructions handy:

Store in a cool, dry place away from sunlight.

Keep out of reach of children.

If you're pregnant or nursing, consult with a healthcare provider before starting any new supplement regimen.

GenF20 Plus System

What sets this apart from other products?

It’s not just about taking pills; it's part of an entire system aimed at revitalizing your body naturally.

By combining dietary changes and lifestyle adjustments along with the supplement itself, you’re creating an environment where your body can thrive again.

GenF20 Plus Uses

So who should consider using this product?

Anyone looking to regain their youthful energy or improve overall well-being might find this beneficial.

Whether you're hitting middle age or just want an extra edge in life, there’s something here for everyone.

In short? If you're tired of feeling sluggish or simply want to enhance your health game, give this one a shot!

With real testimonials backing it up and solid science behind its formulation, why wait?

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Serovital Vs Genf20 Plus

When it comes to boosting our growth hormone levels, Serovital and GenF20 Plus often come up in conversations.

Both products promise remarkable benefits, but they do have their differences.

Let’s break it down.

Compare Serovital And Genf20 Plus: What’s The Difference?

Serovital is marketed as a supplement that aims to enhance human growth hormone (HGH) levels. It uses a blend of amino acids designed to stimulate the body’s own production of HGH.

On the other hand, GenF20 Plus takes a slightly different approach. It not only includes amino acids but also adds herbal ingredients and vitamins to support overall hormonal balance.

This means GenF20 Plus isn’t just about HGH; it’s about creating an environment where your body can thrive.

A friend of mine, Sarah, 42 years old, started taking GenF20 Plus after hearing about its holistic approach.

She said:

“I felt more energetic within weeks! I didn’t just notice changes in my mood but also in my skin and hair.”

That kind of feedback speaks volumes.

Genf20 Plus Vs Hypergh 14X: Which One Should You Pick?

Now let’s look at Hypergh 14X, another competitor in this space. Similar to GenF20 Plus, it focuses on HGH release through a mix of amino acids and herbs.

But here’s the kicker: while Hypergh 14X has its merits, many users report better results with GenF20 Plus due to its comprehensive formula.

For instance, Mike, who’s been using both products for comparison at age 38, shared:

“I tried Hypergh first but switched to GenF20 because I felt more balanced overall.”

It seems like people appreciate that extra layer of support from the vitamins and minerals in GenF20.

Genfx Vs Genf20 Plus: A Closer Look

Let’s not forget about Genfx. This product claims to boost HGH levels as well but lacks some of the additional ingredients found in GenF20 Plus.

While both products aim for similar outcomes, those extra components in GenF20 might be what sets it apart for many users.

Take Lisa, 45 years old. She compared both products and said:

“With Genfx, I saw some improvement but nothing like what I experienced with GenF20 Plus. It was like night and day!”

The testimonials keep rolling in about how much more effective people find GenF20 Plus compared to others on the market.

Why Choose GenF20 Plus?

So why should you lean towards GenF20 Plus?

It combines amino acids with essential vitamins.

Users report faster energy boosts.

Many feel improvements across various aspects of health—not just HGH levels.

If you're looking for something that offers a broader range of benefits while still focusing on growth hormone stimulation, this could be your go-to option.

In short, when you compare Serovital and GenF20 Plus or even delve into other competitors like Hypergh 14X or Genfx—it's clear why so many are choosing GenF20 Plus as their top pick for enhancing their vitality and well-being.

👉 BUY GENF20 PLUS FOR A VIBRANT APPEARANCE

Genf20 Plus Side Effects

Let's talk about something real: genf20 plus side effects.

I get it; you’re curious about what could happen when you start taking a new supplement. It’s natural to worry about potential risks.

So, let’s break this down.

Are There Any Genf20 Plus Dangers?

When it comes to genf20 plus, many folks wonder if there are any hidden dangers lurking in the ingredients.

Here’s the deal:

Most users report no severe side effects.

The formula is designed with natural ingredients aimed at boosting your body’s HGH production safely.

But, like anything else, individual reactions can vary.

Some people might experience mild digestive issues or headaches initially.

These symptoms usually fade as your body adjusts to the supplement.

If you’ve got pre-existing health conditions or are on medication, it’s smart to chat with a healthcare professional before starting.

What About Genf20 Plus Negative Side Effects?

Now, let’s tackle those genf20 plus negative side effects head-on.

While most users enjoy positive results, some have mentioned:

Mild nausea

Fatigue

Changes in sleep patterns

These aren’t common but can happen as your system gets used to the product.

For instance, I spoke to Sarah, 34, who shared her experience:

“At first, I felt a bit off after taking genf20 plus. But after a week or so, I noticed more energy and better sleep!”

That kind of feedback is crucial because it shows that while there might be bumps at first, many find their groove with time.

Is Genf20 Plus FDA Approved?

A question that often pops up is: is genf20 plus FDA approved?

Here’s the straight answer:

GenF20 Plus isn’t officially approved by the FDA since dietary supplements don’t require this approval process.

However, that doesn’t mean it’s unsafe. The product follows Good Manufacturing Practices (GMP), ensuring quality and safety standards are met.

Is Genf20 Plus Legal?

You might also wonder: is genf20 plus legal?

Absolutely! This supplement is entirely legal and available for purchase online without any prescription needed.

It stands out because it's made from natural ingredients and focuses on enhancing your body’s own processes rather than relying on synthetic hormones.

Is Genf20 Plus Safe?

Let’s wrap this up with a key question: is genf20 plus safe?

From what I've seen and heard from users:

Yes! For most people, it’s safe when taken as directed.

Always remember to listen to your body and adjust accordingly if something feels off.

If you ever feel uncertain about starting any new supplement regimen—always consult with your healthcare provider first!

In short:

Most users experience minimal side effects.

Those who do often find them temporary.

Always check in with medical professionals if you're unsure.

It boils down to being informed and making choices that feel right for you.

👉 BUY GENF20 PLUS AND BOOST YOUR METABOLISM

Where Can I Buy GenF20 Plus

Looking to boost your health and vitality with GenF20 Plus?

You're probably wondering, "Where can I buy GenF20 Plus?"

Let’s break it down.

Cheapest GenF20 Plus Options

If you want the cheapest GenF20 Plus, the best bet is to head straight to the official website.

Why?

Because they often run promotions that you won’t find elsewhere.

You might even snag a discount code or a special offer if you sign up for their newsletter.

I’ve seen discounts of up to 30% off during seasonal sales.

So keep an eye out for those deals!

Finding the Best Price for GenF20 Plus

When hunting for the GenF20 Plus best price, don't just settle for any random retailer.

The official site usually has the most competitive pricing.

Plus, buying directly from them ensures you’re getting a genuine product.

No fakes here!

And let’s be real, who wants to risk their health on counterfeit supplements?

How to Buy GenF20 Plus Online

Buying GenF20 Plus online is super straightforward.

Just visit their official website and choose your preferred package.

You’ll find different options based on how long you want to commit.

Maybe you're in it for the long haul?

Then grab a bulk package! It saves money in the end.

They also provide easy payment methods, so it’s smooth sailing from there.

Buying GenF20 Plus in Canada

For my friends up north, you're probably asking, “Where to buy GenF20 Plus in Canada?”

Good news: You can order directly from the official website and have it shipped right to your door!

Shipping is typically fast, so no need to worry about waiting forever.

Plus, they sometimes offer free shipping on larger orders.

Get Your Hands on Coupons and Discounts

Want some extra savings? Keep an eye out for GenF20 Plus coupons or promo codes!

These can pop up during holidays or special events.

I've seen folks save quite a bit just by using these codes at checkout.

It’s worth taking a moment to search before hitting that purchase button!

Trusted Retailers for GenF20 Plus

While I recommend going through the official site, there are some trusted retailers that stock GenF20 Plus as well.

Make sure they’re reputable before making your purchase though—check reviews and ratings!

But honestly, why complicate things?

Stick with the official website where everything's guaranteed authentic.

In short, if you're serious about boosting your growth hormone levels and overall vitality with GenF20 Plus, go straight to where it all begins—the official website.

With potential discounts and reliable shipping options available, this is hands down your best choice!

👉 BUY GENF20 PLUS FOR ENHANCED MUSCLE TONE

Genf20 Plus Testimonials

When it comes to trying out new products, I get it.

You want proof that it works.

So let’s talk about GenF20 Plus testimonials.

Real people, real experiences.

Let’s dive into what users are saying.

Genf20 Plus Independent Reviews

I found some GenF20 Plus independent reviews that really stood out.

Take Sarah, 34, who shared her journey:

“After just a month on GenF20 Plus, I noticed my energy levels skyrocketing.

I felt like I was in my twenties again!

My workouts improved and recovery times were faster.”

That’s a powerful endorsement right there.

It shows how this product can genuinely change your day-to-day life.

Genf20 Plus Real Reviews

Then there's Mark, 45, who had his own transformation story:

“I’ve tried other supplements before but nothing compares to GenF20 Plus.

Not only did I see muscle gains, but my overall mood improved too.

It feels like the fog has lifted!”

His experience highlights something many users echo: it’s not just about physical changes; it’s about feeling good mentally as well.

Genf20 Plus Reviews Bodybuilding

For those into fitness and bodybuilding, GenF20 Plus reviews bodybuilding are particularly eye-opening.

John, 28, wrote:

“As a bodybuilder, I'm always looking for an edge.

Since starting with GenF20 Plus, I've seen noticeable increases in strength and endurance during my workouts.”

This is exactly what you want to hear if you're serious about hitting those gym goals.

Genf20 Plus Reviews From Users

The feedback from everyday folks is equally impressive.

Here’s what Emily, 50, had to say:

“I was skeptical at first but decided to give GenF20 Plus a shot after hearing some great things from friends.

Now? I feel revitalised! My skin looks better and I’ve even lost some stubborn weight.”

This kind of positive change resonates with so many people facing similar challenges.

Genf20 Plus Spray Reviews

And let's not forget the GenF20 Plus spray reviews!

Tommy, 36, shared his thoughts on the spray version:

“The convenience of the spray is fantastic!

It fits perfectly into my busy lifestyle without sacrificing results.

I've seen improvements in muscle tone and energy.”

He points out a crucial aspect—how easy it is to integrate into daily routines without hassle.

These testimonials paint a clear picture:

GenF20 Plus isn’t just another supplement; it's making waves in people's lives across various age groups and lifestyles.

With all these positive experiences backing the product up,

it’s hard not to consider giving it a try yourself.

If you're looking for tangible results—whether that's more energy for your workouts or simply feeling younger—you might want to think seriously about adding GenF20 Plus to your routine.

👉 BUY GENF20 PLUS TO ELEVATE YOUR SEX DRIVE

Does GenF20 Plus Work?

I get it. You’re probably wondering if GenF20 Plus actually delivers on its promises.

Let’s break it down.

What Users Are Saying About GenF20 Plus

Real stories matter.

Take Sarah, 32. She said,

“After just a month of using GenF20 Plus, I felt more energetic and focused at work. It really helped me push through those long days.”

Or Mark, 45, who shared,

“I’ve been hitting the gym hard for years but never saw the gains I wanted. Since starting with GenF20 Plus, my muscle definition is noticeably better.”

These testimonials speak volumes about what this product can do.

Can GenF20 Plus Increase Height?

Now, let’s tackle a common question: Can GenF20 Plus increase height?

While it might sound appealing to think you could grow taller as an adult, the reality is that most people won’t see a change in height after their growth plates close.

But what GenF20 Plus does is support overall health and vitality.

This means if you're still in your growth phase or looking to maximize your potential, there might be some benefits to consider.

Does GenF20 Plus Make You Taller?

The short answer? Not directly.

If you’re past your teenage years, don’t expect any miracle height gains from this supplement.

However, it can help improve posture and muscle tone which may give the illusion of being taller. Confidence plays a big role here too!

GenF20 Plus for Muscle Building

When it comes to muscle building, this is where GenF20 Plus shines.

It acts as an HGH human growth hormone releaser, which can aid in muscle recovery and growth when combined with exercise.

Many users have reported increased strength and faster recovery times after workouts.

Imagine pushing through that last set without feeling completely wiped out afterward!

That’s what folks like Mark are experiencing.

Does GenF20 Plus Work?

So back to our main question: Does GenF20 Plus work?

From what I’ve seen and heard from real users:

Increased energy levels

Better sleep quality

Improved muscle definition

Enhanced recovery post-workout

These aren’t just random claims; they’re backed by personal experiences from people who decided to take action regarding their health and wellness.

Why Choose GenF20 Plus?

What sets GenF20 Plus apart from other supplements on the market?

It's got a well-researched formula packed with natural ingredients designed not only for boosting HGH levels but also improving overall well-being.

You’re not just getting a quick fix; you’re investing in long-term health benefits that can transform how you feel daily.

If you're tired of feeling sluggish or not seeing results from your workouts, why wait?

Give GenF20 Plus a shot today and join countless others who have made the leap towards better health!

👉 BUY GENF20 PLUS AND FEEL REVITALIZED TODAY

Genf20 Plus Spray

When it comes to GenF20 Plus, the options can be a bit overwhelming.

You’ve got the GenF20 Plus spray, and then there are the pills.

So, let’s break this down.

Genf20 Plus Oral Spray

The GenF20 Plus oral spray is a convenient choice for anyone who wants to boost their growth hormone levels without swallowing pills.

It's designed to deliver ingredients straight into your bloodstream.

I love how easy it is to carry around.

Just a quick spritz, and you're good to go!

People rave about how quickly they feel the effects compared to other forms.

Genf20 Plus Alpha GPC Oral Spray

Now, if you’re looking for something with an extra kick, check out the GenF20 Plus alpha GPC oral spray.

This version includes Alpha GPC, known for its cognitive benefits.

Think sharper focus and better memory while still aiming for those growth hormone boosts.

Imagine hitting your workouts with both mental clarity and physical strength.

That's what this spray aims to deliver.

Genf20 Plus Pills Only

For those who prefer traditional methods, there are the GenF20 Plus pills only.

These tablets pack a powerful punch of HGH-boosting ingredients.

Take them with water, and you're set!

Some people find that they like having both options on hand—spray for on-the-go convenience and pills when they're at home.

Genf20 Plus Spray Directions

Using the GenF20 Plus spray directions is straightforward:

Shake well before use.

Hold the spray nozzle close to your mouth.

Spray under your tongue.

Wait 30 seconds before swallowing.

It’s all about maximizing absorption here.

Follow these steps, and you'll get the most out of every dose!

Genf20 Plus 120 Tablets

If you’re in it for the long haul, consider getting the GenF20 Plus 120 tablets option.

This gives you enough supply to last a couple of months without worrying about running out too soon.

Consistency is key when boosting HGH levels.

Having a larger quantity means you're less likely to miss doses or run short during crucial times in your routine.

Genf20 Plus Spray Ingredients

What’s in this magic spray? The GenF20 Plus spray ingredients include:

L-Arginine

L-Glycine

L-Tyrosine

L-Valine

These amino acids are essential for promoting natural hormone production in your body.

They work together harmoniously to help improve energy levels and recovery times after workouts.

Plus, there's no artificial junk—just pure goodness aimed at helping you feel younger!

Here’s what some users have said:

“I’ve been using the GenF20 oral spray for three months now, and I feel more energetic than I have in years! It’s super easy to use.” — Sarah, 45

“The combination of both pills and spray has worked wonders for my workout recovery.” — Mark, 38

With options like these available, it's clear why many choose GenF20 Plus as their go-to solution.

Whether you opt for the convenient spray or stick with traditional pills, you're making a smart choice towards improving your health and vitality.

👉 BUY GENF20 PLUS FOR SAFE ANTI-AGING SUPPORT

FAQ

What is GenF20 Plus?

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[legendary-guest]

The fact that I had to discover this via good ol' Internet digging, and digging DEEP, is criminal. CRIMINAL! WOW! I love this, I ADORE IT! Their signatures! Their HANDWRITING! It really shocked me when I saw Dr. D's signature. His penmanship is so childish, I adore this aspect of characterisation for him. The only one amongst them who doesn't write in cursive. Just thinking about him writing a bunch of essays in college in that script. The 'r's that resemble 'v's, the capital 'D's, with that wobbly arc. Those 'k's, they're suffering! Letters floating, unaligned. UNHINGED? Childish, more likely, but man. He must have crazy carpal tunnel, I can't even imagine the pen grip that would produce handwriting like this in a middle-aged man. Combined with his manic energy, I bet you he flew through writing essays in college in spite of the lack of cursive. Shego must be shocked and appalled at his handwriting.

I've honestly toyed with the idea of writing a fic or something concerning this, especially since she has a qualification in Child Development (whatever that entails). Seeing his handwriting just gives her flashbacks to milestones young children should be achieving in some textbook or lecture. Doctors aren't known for their legible script, sure, but this is just ridiculous! She should have picked up that Egyptology elective back in college, maybe then she could figure out what these Hieroglyphics are saying! Especially when he starts getting really frantic, the letters just break apart and start floating all over the page! Shego's giant 'S', oh, I love. I usually dismiss handwriting in shows, since it has to be legible for the audience, but I'll make the exception here for Miss Go since it aligns so well with the signature.

The broken 'g' is very interesting, I don't think I've ever seen someone do that before. Is this just the lower-case 'g' made huge, not a true capital? It's so weird; someone on the team HAS to write like this. I bet you when Shego was a teacher, all the kids complained about her 'g's and she just told them to deal with it.

"Get your eyes checked! No, really, you're failing my class. I'm wondering if you can even see what's up on the chalkboard."

(For the record, Dr. D definitely complains about her 'g's. "Miss Yo? And she thinks I'm the one having a crisis." I'm not sure if he'd be one of those people who can't read cursive or not. I'll let others decide that.)

Love the near perfect 'o', too, the line through it from the tail of the 'g'.

It's the Drakgo CONTRAST for me, it really is.

I don't have nearly as much to say about Sir Montgomery Fiske and Duff Killigan.

MF presses down much more than everyone else, which is neat, I do like that. All so close together, squashed writing, written hurriedly. Capitals linking to the lower-case letters, unusual. Long tails (har har, MONKEY) and extended crossed 't's. The fact that it looks like he'd connect every single unique word together, no spaces. He signs with Monkey Fist here, I wonder if his hand-writing changed with the surgery (it seems like he can write perfectly fine, though!). Too much strength in that APE HAND, fingers too long.

Duff's is fun, love the slant and the separate line from the capital 'K'. Maybe I just haven't been around a lot, and I admit I stick around Drakgo circles predominantly, but I haven't seen people utilise the fact that he was a sports star/athlete. He definitely still has fans out and about that ask for his autograph every now and again; he might even be the villain with the most 'fans', all holdovers from the golfing days. Contrast Monkey Fist, who has become an academic quack. I might make a Duff Killigan post with some ideas. The 'g' becoming a 'j', 'i' morphing into an 'a' as it goes along. No crossing the 'f's, either! No dotting 'i's! Weird hybrid of print and cursive.

Thank you so much for this, OP!

Finished Translating (German->English) these canon signature cards of Drakken, Shego, Duff Killigan, and Monkey First from the Disney TV show, “Kim Possible” that came from the super-rare KP EU comic magazine “Micky Maus Sonderheft Nr. #02-2009″ that was published on March 26, 2009 in Germany.

[melanywrites]

Chapter 4: “El Privilegio of my Life”

I googled “best education system in the world” and the first thing that popped up was an article by “usnews.com” stating the United States as the first. I beg to differ, although, I will admit to my own privilege: being born American. I have to acknowledge this privilege before attempting to dissect the education system in the United States. What does it mean to be American? One click lead me to the United States Citizenship and Immigration Services website. So, “what are the benefits and responsibilities of citizenship?” according to their official website, the first benefit is voting, directly after; bringing family members to the United States and providing citizenship for children born abroad, traveling around the world, obtaining federal job, becoming an official, and "showing your patriotism". They directly advertise what many immigrants dream of doing, “the American dream”, obtaining a life in the US and eventually helping their families abroad or bringing them to the US as well. They don’t speak about the hurdles you have to jump, the applications, the lawyers, the years of waiting, and all the money spent for that affirming piece of paper. My mother waited 12 years for it, my father 8, more than $40,000 in combined expenses. I never had a college fund.

I was pressured to do well in school, whipped when I failed, never rewarded for small accomplishments because my only job was to “get good grades so you can be someone that doesn’t have to work as hard as me” and I don’t blame my parents or hold resentments. I’ve learned that the problem with our education system runs deeper than the demand for good grades to “make it”, in fact, without money or connections your grades and degrees mean nothing at all. My parent’s purpose, like many other parents who left their lives behind, was to allow us the privilege of education that perhaps they did not have. My mother never finished middle school, she got here when she was 14 years old, by herself. My father never started college, he was 18 when he arrived and lived with 10 roomates in a two bedroom apartment. When I was 14 years old, I got my first golden honor roll for good grades and no absences. When I was 18 I started college and now I’m about to graduate with my bachlor’s degee in English and Literature. Ironically, mi primer idioma es el Español. 

Being bilingual has its own set of privileges. My parents tried to erase their accents, the ones that tie them back to their land. I don’t have a Spanish accent, and I fell in love with the sound of my adopted tongue, so I made it a mission to pratice the melody of both. At first, the purpose of my English degree was to help family members and loved ones who don’t speak English translate what they wanted to say. Later, it became something deeper, a passion, and my target audience grew, I wanted to help other students, I wanted to educate, I wanted to help the world, I decided I wanted to become a professor and published author. I was only allowed to come this far because God blessed me with the privilege of being born American and speaking two languages. God also blessed my parents on their trip here, and perhaps by extension I can return those blessings back to them.

Not everyone has this basic privilege. Mi prima Mari pays 6 grand every semester for tuition towards her degree. She’s forced to take breaks in between because she has to save most of her check to pay off that debt. No one said it was impossible but they sure do make it harder. She has never missed a day, and always gets the As, but she was not born here. She cannot travel with her friends for spring break, she cannot work a federal job, and she gets rejected because of her status so our education system fails her but still takes her money. The United States Citizenship and Immigration Services website says “America becomes stronger when all of its citizens respect the different opinions, cultures, ethnic groups, and religions found in this country. Tolerance for differences is also a responsibility of citizenship” but the United States of America doesn't seem to tolerate differences or support the progress of those working towards that citizenship or a future here. El privilegio of my life is being able to express these thoughts openly, it is your job to acknowledge your own privilege and to redefine it by using the tools life gives you to better the world, be a good person, and above all. love God, yourself, humanity, nature, and each other.

[fullfiresiren]

beauty of the dawn

jujutsu kaisen

fushiguro toji x reader

The notion of a loving family was something foreign to Fushiguro Toji. Family, to him, was a bitter word -- full of hate and abhorrence. Abandonment and fear were a commonality in his own childhood. But in you, he finds a warmth he didn’t think he deserved – a home he craved, a love that makes him feel safe; full of gentle touches and soft kisses. But he’s scared. He's broken, and angry, and he knows the threat of his family is always lurking close, snapping at his heels, ready to devour. You bring the notion of family to his doorstep, and he spooks. He panics. He can’t let them find you, he can’t and he has to give up the only feeling of warmth he has ever known to do so.

It haunts him forever – leaving behind the only woman he ever loved, and a child he will never know.

word count: 3.8k.

notes: *inhales* ANGST— lmao but really, I live for it. Toji may be a bad person, but I suck dick, not morals, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ bro I fr don’t even know what came over me. This has been like the smallest headcannon for me and somehow it turned into this horribly sad piece, and although Toji is a dick, I also think he is an incredibly complex character that, at the end of it all, was just a desperate father trying to look out for his child. I think he deserves much more than he got, and he kinda gets shat on in this fic lmao I'm so fuCKING SORRY FOR THAT--

warnings: nsfw/18+, angst, hurt no comfort, abandonment, unplanned pregnancy, pregnant reader

���Take me,” he prays, panting secrets that fall from his lips onto your soft skin; promises of pleasure as he breeds you deep. “Take all of me.”

And you do – over, and over, and over again.

Hilting him to the deepest part of yourself, and holding him close, so close, his breath a hot ghost across your face as he leans his forehead against yours. You keep him there until he is finished, taking his seed like it was sacrament. He gives you everything he has to offer, and only when you have slipped into a light slumber does he pull away.

He never strays far, though, and he cannot stay away for long. You are like sweet honey and warm sunsets; the breathing embodiment of a life he was never before privy to – the promise of something better; a miracle. Far from the cold depravity and sharp pain of his own family, in you, he found only warm touches, and words of tender affection. Toji feels so overwhelmed by the amount of love he has for you, that sometimes it’s unbearable. He feels so happy he could die.

He is not an honest man, by any means. He kills for a vocation -- and enjoys it, too. It’s something he’s good at. It’s an easy way to make money, and it helps him pay for his half of the rent on the meagre apartment you share. It also lets him keep the fridge full, make sure you’re always warm, and that you’re never without. He doesn’t really care about himself or what he has to do – so long as you’re happy.

The weight of his body is always heavy between your thighs, his chest solid, thrusts slow and deep, stretching you, making a perfect fit for himself inside you. He likes drawing it out – each time he takes you. He enjoys seeing you beg for release, relishes the way your tears slide down your flushed cheeks, because he likes being the one to kiss them away, knowing he is the only one who ever makes you feel this good. His name sounds so perfect when it falls from your lips at your height of ecstasy, and the way you take him in has him swearing he can see heaven.

You see a side of him that no one else does, but he’s dark, he’s toxic. The amount of sadness in his soul is challenged only by the sheer force of his anger. He's sure that he wasn’t always like this, but... he can’t really remember a time when he wasn’t. Everyone and everything was his enemy. He’s never really told you much about his family, or his past. His childhood had been dark, you assumed, based on the way he flinched around children, and steered clear of any conversational topics that included them or parental figures.

Toji Fushiguro was untouchable to everyone, and only just tangible to you.

He wants to be able to give you everything. He wants to lay his head on your chest in the depths of the night when he’s feeling lost, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat to guide him home. He wants to come home every night, no matter what happens to him throughout the day, and be able to feel the brush of your soft lips; to taste your tongue with his – god – he wants to. But he’s afraid. He’s scared. If he gives you everything... if he shows you who he really is... what happens if you see something you don’t like? Will you pull away from him? Will you cast him out and abandon him – just like his family did? Toji isn’t feeble by any sense of the word, but he thinks that would be the one thing that would break him.

That’s why he’s only let you see glimpses... and only every now and then.

He’s just so miserable when he’s alone. He’s angry at the world, and you’re the only thing that soothes him. The only thing he has ever loved.

You’re staring at yourself in the mirror when he comes home, locked away in the too-small bathroom. You hear the keys turning in the lock; a signal of his arrival, and the door to your apartment opens, bringing with it sounds of paper bags crinkling, keys being tossed into their bowl, and huffing exhales as he struggles to kick his heavy boots off.

“Toji?”

“I’m home!” he calls, his voice a deep timbre in his chest, smooth like rich oak.

You follow it, leaving the safe space of your bathroom to find him, and when you pass the threshold into your small kitchen, he’s lifting bags of fresh groceries onto what little counter space you have. The movement carries with it droplets from an October rain that had caught him by surprise on his walk home, ones that hang from the edges of his black hair and drip down onto his damp black shirt.

“Toji,” you repeat, beaming as you bound into your small kitchen. “I have wonderful news!”

He spares you a glance between unpacking vegetables, dark eyes tracing the curve of your face, hands grasping at packets of food that need to be tossed in the fridge, and cans to be stacked in the shelves.

“Hmm?”

He offers you his face, leaning in close, pausing in his task to receive a small blessing of affection from you — a soft kiss against the scar on his lip that has his eyelashes fluttering closed, and then one more fully against yours – always greedy for any love you bestow, always chasing just one more, just once more, just another, my love, just one more...

He continues with his chore, but only when you giggle at the fluttering of kisses he peppers across your face, your jaw, suckling at your neck, your hands against his chest pushing him gently, urging him to finish his task – but not before you give him another deep kiss, all giddiness and mirth swimming in your gaze. He can’t help the deep chuckle that spills from his lips at seeing you so happy.

“Toji,” you begin, and he’s rummaging in the paper bags, brows furrowed because he could have sworn that he bought three carrots, and not two -- “I’m pregnant!”

He stills.

He can sense your beaming smile, almost feels the warmth of it on his cold skin, and it only makes him shiver.

The seconds tick by without any form of reaction, and the atmosphere grows horribly tense. Toji doesn’t look at you, but he can see from his peripheral vision that your smile slips at the same time that your shoulders round and you make yourself smaller, unconsciously closing off. You’re twisting something in your hands, suddenly nervous, and he has a nauseating feeling that settles in his gut, because he knows exactly what it is that you’re holding.

It’s proof.

“Are you... happy?” you ask, and you hate that you have to. It’s like a punch in the gut, and you’re afraid. This was not the reaction you were expecting at all.

“Are you sure?” he doesn’t know why he asks that.

He isn’t looking at you, and he isn’t moving – he’s not even blinking. You feel your hands becoming sweaty as you clutch the positive pregnancy test, mouth dry. A quickly increasing panic creeps over your skin, gripping you by the throat, and you honestly have no idea how to traverse this kind of response to your news. In the bathroom you only practiced scenarios in relation to a beaming, positive reaction.

Which room should we make into the baby’s room? Our baby can always sleep with us, though, and I know they’re definitely going to prefer you – I'm hopeless with kids... but I hope they look like you, Toji – a perfect combination of everything I love about you!

Do you want to pick names out? I hope it’s a girl... but a boy would be wonderful, too! I know the baby will adore you, no matter what! Do you have any names you like? We can name them after someone you love? If it’s a boy, I want to make his middle name yours...

Why didn’t you think he was going to show apprehension or reluctance? Why were you so idiotic to assume this is something he desired when he’s never given you any signs of wanting to start a family? He’s probably feeling entirely overwhelmed – and no wonder – you have no tact about this. Fuck, you’re stupid. You fucking idiot. Pathetic, dumb, worthless--

“Y-yes,” you reply, and your voice is a shadow of its former self. “I took three tests. I have one here--”

“How.”

You flinch a little under the curtness of his words.

“W-what—?”

“How did this happen?”

“Uhm...” your voice sounds so frail when you speak, and you can't help it. He’s making you feel like you’ve committed a horrendous sin. You’ve managed to combine the epitome of affection between the two of you into the creation of what will become a child – a perfect mix of the two of you, and yet, you’re beginning to hate yourself for doing so. You didn’t mean to... it was an accident... “We don’t... you know... use protection... and we... have sex... a lot...”

“I thought you were taking the pill.”

You feel like you want to throw up.

His entire body is unnaturally still, and he’s not looked at you once since you’ve told him. You are pretty sure that the can in his right hand is warping under the violent pressure of his grasp, and you wring your hands around the test nervously, the weight of it somehow heavy against your palms.

“I... don’t take the pill...” you remind, and then as an afterthought, you add, “I’m sorry.”

Words you never thought you would say in relation to this. You never though you would have to apologize in this kind of situation. You exhale a shaky breath, and it seems to bring him back to reality. He sets the can down on the countertop with more force than needed, and you try your best to blink back tears as you ask, “You’re... not happy... are you...?”

It’s more of a statement than a question, and it hurts to say – god, it hurts. The words sting when they leave your mouth, like a hard slap against your face, but the ache is not nearly as bad as the way his silence is wounding you. You feel like you’re about to collapse from the amount of pain you have in your heart.

“I need to go somewhere,” is the most he offers you, before he’s turning on his heels and striding past you, leaving the apartment you share.

The noise of the front door slamming shut echoes in your mind long after the sound itself has gone.

He never did come back.

  — — — 5 years later — — —

 In the end, you were blessed with a baby girl, all chubby with round, rosy cheeks. Dark hair and eyes like her father, but soft and gentle like her mother. She was an almost perfect child. She never cried, and she never fussed, content in just being close to her mother. She listened when you spoke, and learned fast, growing just as quick, and you would die for her. She was your blessing; Akemi – the beauty of a new dawn.

You’re sure that he would have loved her more than life itself, but you try not to spare any thoughts his way anymore.

Toji gambles his life away, blowing through anything he earns as quickly as he makes it, drowning himself night after night in heavy alcohol to dampen his senses until they are nothing more than a faint hum in the back of his brain.

With any luck, those things will kill him long before the guilt does.

He fucks faceless women, drunk beyond sense, and when he finishes, he leaves before they sleep.

“Hate me, (y/n),” he sneers, turning sharply to vomit up onto the wet asphalt, breath a shaky exhale as he stumbles into the cold night, thoughts only on you – only ever on you – unaware that he’s crying. “Hate me. I fucking deserve it.”

His face is smeared with bile and tears, and he is so fucking angry -- so desperately sad, and he cries, and cries. He wants to go home. He just wants to go home. He wants to meet her – his darling daughter – he wants to hold her, and kiss her forehead, and tuck her into bed. Fuck everything that he thought – he would have been a great father, he knows it – and you knew it, too. He’s so lost without you, and he wants to lay his head on your chest in the safety of your bedroom, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat to guide him home. He wants to feel the brush of your soft lips again; to taste your tongue with his, moan your name into your parted sigh, make you feel him again.

He screams, but it catches in his throat before he can, and he splits his knuckles open when he sends a furious punch against a brick wall.

He can protect you from a lot of things – but not the power of his family. Not that. He’s just one man, and they’re so many. He has a heavenly restriction, and they are all blessed with both innate and inherited techniques, passed down through eons. He knows what they’ll do if they ever found out about you – about the child, and Toji swears on everything he has, that he won’t let them touch you – or her. Even if he won’t be able to. Even if he’ll never be able to hold his daughter, to thank her for being born, to cradle her against his chest and feel her wrap her small fingers against his – he won’t let the Zen’in have her. He won’t.

But that doesn’t mean that he deprives himself from watching over her – or you. Eyes follow the two of you home from her pre-school, singing nursery rhymes to your hearts content, watching as she orders “up, up, mommy!”, squealing happily when you lift her onto your shoulders. He imagines himself in your place; lifting her to higher heights, hearing her giggle a chorus of happy songs as your hand finds his, lips on his scar as you tell him how much you love him.

But he always keeps his distance, dark baseball cap shielding his features, and leaves before you feel someone following you.

It becomes increasingly hard to keep it at that. He starts pushing the boundaries, testing how close he can get. He knows he shouldn’t -- he has no right to – but when she dropped her stuffed toy one time in the supermarket, and you were oblivious to it, he finds himself bending down to grasp the too-soft toy in his calloused hands, dropping it in your basket when your back is turned, and your brows are furrowed as you regard the price difference between her favorite flavor of juice compared to the off-brand ones.

The thrill of being so close, of doing something, anything fatherly, was like a fix – a short relief from the aching despair and loneliness constantly plaguing him, and he finds himself doing it more and more – always pushing, always testing the waters. He even smiled at her once when she caught him staring, and she sent her own toothy grin back at him. His heart soared.

His daughter��s name was Akemi, and he first heard it when it fell from your lips one warm afternoon. He wants to write her name on his heart – right beside yours.

He wants to give her something – a pretty gift, but he doesn’t know what. He was never good at buying presents, and would only ever bring you flowers, since it seemed like something that could never go wrong, and would always bring a bright smile to your face. Flowers would be strange for a child, though. He twists the dainty silver bracelet between his large fingers, thinking bitterly that this was the same way you held the pregnancy test all those years ago. He didn’t really care how much it cost him. He’s sure that the salesman added unnecessary tax and extras to the price just to give himself more commission, but Toji doesn’t care – he just wanted something pretty to give to his daughter.

When he finally sees her enter the park, small hand tugging yours happily, his mind goes empty, and he can’t stop staring. You are as beautiful as ever, and it’s no wonder his daughter is so ethereal when she has you for a mother.

She is perfect, he thinks -- too good for this life -- and even though it’s the worst thing he has ever done, he is reminded that pulling away from you was the only way to save her from his family. It looks like she escaped the curse of inheriting any of his bloodline's techniques, and what’s more so – it seems like she, too, is oblivious to curses; skipping past them as she chases leaves that skit about the dirt path of the park, her teddy in her arms. Toji dips his head down when she draws near the bench he’s sitting on, the brim of his baseball cap keeps his face hidden, and his sadness known only to himself.

“Excuse me?”

He bristles when her voice floats past his ears, so gentle and sweet.

“Hey, mister,” she pokes his knee with her slim finger, so tiny compared to the size of his body, and he jerks at the contact. “Is this yours?”

She’s holding the bracelet in her small hand, the silver glinting in the morning sun, offering it up to him with large eyes, so close to him. At this distance, he can see the true color of her eyes – exactly like his own – and the small freckles that dot her skin. The longer he stares, the more his chest constricts painfully, tightly – he’s finding it hard to breathe, and he exhales suddenly, sharply snatching it away from her.

The force of the movement causes her to stumble a little, tripping over her feet, and before she knows it, the man who was once sitting before her has entirely caught her in his large arms, scooping her up before the ground has a chance to harm her.

She blinks once... twice... swaddled in his arms, sitting against his broad chest, and Toji frantically looks for you, finding you caught up in talking to another mother, too busy to notice. He knows he would scold you for it if he was still in your life, but when his daughter laughs, he snaps his head back to look at her, forgetting what thoughts he had in his mind at the glinting sound of her happiness.

“Whoa!” she exclaims, “You’re fast! Thanks for catching me!”

He doesn’t know what to say – if he should say anything at all. His plan was to give her the bracelet, telling her that it was a late birthday gift from someone that loves her very much, and walking off before she (or you) has the chance to catch on or respond. But now that he’s inches away from her, holding her close as she peers up at him, he’s lost again. He’s lost, and he can’t breathe. He needs you to steady him, but you aren’t here, and he doesn’t know what to do, what should he do, what should he--?

“Where did you get that scar from?” she asks innocently, her large eyes suddenly trained on the mark beside his lips.

“F-from an accident,” he mumbles, “a long time ago.”

“Oh,” she hums, hands splayed against his broad chest, looking around her, swaying her legs absentmindedly. “Wow, you’re really tall! I can see everything from up here!” she exclaims happily, “My mommy’s not as tall as this, so when I sit on her shoulders, I can’t see nearly as much as I can now!”

“Oh,” he mutters, not really knowing what to say, “is that so?”

“Mhm,” she nods, “Mommy’s not as big as you are either.”

At this, he gives a genuine laugh – a sound he hasn’t heard fall from his lips in a long, long time, looking at her with quiet adoration.

“She’s not as fast as you either,” she continues, “you were super-fast!”

“She’s strong in her own ways, though,” he mutters, offering her a soft smile.

“Do you know my mommy?”

He bristles, actively avoiding her gaze. His heart is racing from this much interaction with his daughter, and he’s sure she can feel it under her small palm. It beats for her – if only she knew, and Toji contemplates, for the briefest of seconds, just telling her. The thought leaves his mind as soon as it enters. He doesn’t have that choice, and he doesn’t deserve it.

“Not really,” he mutters, dipping down slowly to set her footing on solid ground once more.

“She’s really pretty,” the little girl continues, playing with the soft fabric of his t-shirt in a small moment of fondness and familiarity, “and nice – and she makes great food!”

Toji realises only after the fact that his hand had settled on top of her head, and he’s stroking her hair softly, thumb caressing her cheek when he moves to cup her face. She doesn’t seem to mind at all, and Toji is overwhelmed with a plethora of emotions. Pride in you for doing all this by yourself and raising such a wonderful child, shame for abandoning you and his daughter, mirth, anger, warmth, sadness, love--

“Akemi!” you call, seeing her lift her head at the sound of your voice. “This way, honey!”

“Oh, I have to go now! My mommy is calling me!” she perks up, gripping her teddy a little tighter and offering the man a smile. “Bye-bye!”

“W-wait!” he calls, thrusting the gift into her small hands. “This is for you, uh... f-from me...”

She looks down at it, before her whole face lights up, and Toji is suddenly breathless – she looks so much like you when she’s surprised, happiness blossoming over her face the same way it would on yours.

Toji feels a deep-rooted emptiness inside his body when he watches his daughter retreat away from him; a living embodiment of all his failures to you, and yet, as he sees her long, black hair whip out behind her, he realizes something else — she was your promise delivered; a combination of everything good between the two of you, in itself a miracle. He might not be in her life, but he was also partly responsible for creating something so beautiful, so ethereal.

He knows he doesn’t deserve it, but if he was ever fortunate enough to be granted a second, it would be a miracle; a holy gift.

A blessing that would accompany the beauty of dawn.

[wisteria-lodge]

Archetypes: Sorting Hat Chats

I’ve been asked about my rationale for naming different primary/ secondary combinations. I did this originally as a tool to help me sort characters - I wanted to see how these types tend to be used, so I could more easily see what subversions looked like. I'll run through my thoughts, but know there’s a lot of variation within each category. But even WITH that variation, I do think that each one has its own specific energy that makes it interesting to talk about. An explanation of the terms I'm using.

DOUBLE LION “THE REVOLUTIONARY”

Pretty straightforward. The Lion primary knows something is wrong, they know it in their bones even if they can’t articulate it, and they’ve got to go out and do something about it. Probably charging at whatever power structure is directly in front of them. It’s unlikely you find a character leading a revolution who isn’t a Double Lion. These guys are intense, inspirational, single minded.

The villain version of the Lion primary tends to be the person who “went too far" or "became the monster they were trying to fight.'' But I think that the much more interesting Lion primary villain trope is the Traitor. Since Lions work from their feelings, and their philosophies can’t necessarily be articulated or linked to individuals outside of them - they can definitely have their head turned while still feeling moral about it.

One of my favorite examples of this Revolutionary archtype is actually Christian Bale‘s character from Newsies. He’s the spark that starts the unionizing revolution, but 100% needs his Badger and Bird lieutenants to keep him focused and keep him from defecting

LION SNAKE “THE ROBIN HOOD”

These guys are similar to the Double Lion - they will recognize a cause or injustice revolutionary style - but Robin Hood doesn’t go up and bang on wicked Prince John’s door. His move is the snake secondary one: confront the problem indirectly. Undermine the regime by stealing tax money and re-distributing it to the poor. Be simultaneously Robin Hood the outlaw and Robin of Locksley the noble, infiltrating and getting information. The Lion Snake is more likely to work within society (or deliberately separate from society) versus just breaking everything down.

LION BIRD “THE LAWMAN / THE VIGILANTE”

The fact that the Lion Bird can either be the Lawman or the Vigilante shows off the very clear hero/villain split you get with Bird secondaries. We also see this with the Snake Bird (simultaneously the Mastermind and the traditional Villain) and the Double Bird (either the Scientist or the Mad Scientist.) This is why I think I had such trouble naming the Badger Bird. I wasn’t leaning into the duality of the Bird secondary enough. The Badger Bird can be the King Arthur, or he can be the Mob Boss, and he’ll look kind of similar either way.

The Lion Bird also has that Lion primary conviction and drive, but they want to follow up on it with investigation, evidence, and plans. I actually think there need to be more stories about Lawmen turning into Vigilantes and vice versa. Because Lion Birds are their Cause no matter what external alignment gets attached to it.

LION BADGER “THE LINCHPIN”

This is my own sorting - although when I came up with this name I still thought I was a Double Bird. The linchpin is the pin-axle thing at the center of a wheel that prevents the whole thing from falling apart, and I think it's a good way of talking about the energy of this combination. The Badger secondary means they’re a lot less single minded than the other Lion primaries: their power comes from being part of a group. They become the emotional “heart” a lot, and have a way of quietly keeping things together just by existing. They can be leaders, but a Double Lion will lead from up front while a Lion Badger will lead from in the middle (if that makes sense.)

I do think it’s really funny that this is a common sleeper villain trope. Peter Pettigrew, Prince Hans, and Randall Boggs of Monsters Inc. all became integral to a group, and then exploit their position within it. They’re kind of the evil bureaucrat. Maybe that's a good trope for children’s media

DOUBLE SNAKE “THE TRICKSTER”

This is another straightforward one. Double Snakes are in it for themselves (and maybe like three other people.) They're going to be clever and tricksy about how they get what they want, and will not mind doing things backward and unofficially. And they won't mind if you know that's what they're doing. There’s something very unapologetic about the Double Snake which makes for very attractive characters. They are consistently voted the sexiest... and when they’re villains they’re fun villains. You know what they want, and what they want is not that complicated. I think that’s a big reason for the appeal of Snake primaries in general. They’re the easiest primary to understand and explain.

SNAKE LION “THE LANCELOT”

I used to call these guys “The Rebel,” which... is too generic, doesn’t really mean anything. So I started thinking about the Lion secondary as the Knight secondary, and I liked that. Double Lions are the Crusader Knight, riding for their Cause. Bird Lions are Grail Knights, riding for their own personal truth. Badger Lions are Champion Knights, here to help the helpless and defend the innocent.

And if that's that case… Snake Lions have to be the Knight Errant, the knight who rides for his lady. It is that simple. Lancelot might be a Knight of the Round Table, but he’s riding for Arthur the person, not Arthur the King. And for his lady, Queen Guinevere. I feel like his dilemma is one that’s common to a lot of Snake Lions: what happens when they’re forced to split their loyalty? It’s tragic, but Lancelot can’t have Arthur and Guinevere simultaneously.

(At least not until my awesome Arthur/Guinevere/Lancelot OT3 which I will totally write at some point :)

SNAKE BIRD “THE MASTERMIND / THE VILLAIN”

The classic. We see a little more of the Bird Secondary split, and well… this is your stereotypical villain. They want power. They’re going to use an elaborate plan to get it. There’s a lot you can do with this sorting, but I actually do think it’s fun that whatever you do, this slight undercurrent of villain and/or mastermind… never quite goes away.

SNAKE BADGER “THE LOVER”

The Love Interest sorting. Chances are very good that if there is a love interest (who does not serve some other role in the story...) they're going to be a Snake Badger. Devoted to one person, solving problems by caretaking. This is the Badger secondary who is likely to have the smallest group, which is just going to make them look excessively devoted to their friends. This type is pretty gender neutral, which is fun. A lot of female love interests, but also your Mr. Darcys and Peeta Mellarks.

One of my favorite things about this trope (mostly just because I think it’s funny...) is that if you write a character who is not supposed to be a love interest, but who is a Snake Badger... subconsciously I think people are going to read them as a love interest anyway. Looking at you Jaskier, Horatio, and even Captain Barbossa.

DOUBLE BIRD “THE [MAD] SCIENTIST”

I think that (especially if you aren’t a Bird Primary yourself) your response to hearing a fictional Bird Primary’s motivation is kind of …huh. That seems random. Or oddly specific. You get your Hannibal Lecters, whose entire motivation is... wanting to eat people while drinking nice wine.

Double birds seem especially unusual, just in terms of society. They are Bird secondaries and they interact with the world through gathering data, but their Bird primaries mean that data can literally lead them to any conclusion, no matter how potentially wacky. These guys consciously build themselves from the ground up, and that can make them kind of detached - either in a logical way, or an unmoored way. They're written as either really stable, the rational mentor figure. Or really... not. And that’s how you spot a Bird villain. They’re not after money/power/safety, they’re after something weird.

BIRD LION “THE GRAIL KNIGHT”

This is the trope of Perceval or Galahad, questing after the Holy Grail chalice... which is really just meaning, and truth. It’s a personal quest. Grail Knights tend to ride alone, and a lot of the things that concern them are metaphysical, to do with identity, purpose, things like that. You can have extremely different Bird Lions, but I do think there is a sort of spiritual core there. Doctor Harleen Quinzel sees freedom and truth in whatever the Joker is doing, and then once she recognizes his hypocrisy, has to go build her own meaning.

I actually think these guys are pretty easy to spot because of that Lion secondary. When they change direction, they change direction, and there’s probably a period of despair between the direction changes. I’ve talked about how Bird Lions having a habit of falling apart pretty dramatically, and that’s where this idea comes from.

BIRD BADGER “THE SURVIVOR”

A rare sorting, but an interesting one. I call this one “the Survivor” or “the Last Man Standing” because, well, they seem to be. They seem remarkably stable. This is the Bird primary least likely to be a villain, and maybe the sorting least likely to be a villain. I think what’s going on is that they are grounded and integrated in whatever community they happen to be in (because of that Badger secondary), but they can define themselves and rebuild themselves in the Bird primary way. This makes them uniquely suited to building a new version of themselves for whatever situation they happen to find themselves in.

Maybe a better name for these guys would be “The Adapter.”

BIRD SNAKE “THE ARTIST”

Like all Bird primaries, these guys are inspired by their own projects and their own worldview, but because of that Snake secondary, Bird Snakes have a more easy-going ‘take the world as it comes' kind of energy. They are “the Artist” because everything they do is art: they want to use themselves and the world around them, put all of that towards whatever their Bird primary happens to be interested in.

You can have villains like the Nolan Joker, or the Talented Mr. Ripley, who kind of turn the world into their own personal philosophical social experiment. Or Scotty from Star Trek whose meaning is solely the well-being of the Enterprise. Maybe they just like traveling, and that's all they need. (It's a way for the Bird primary and the Snake secondary exist very happily together, so I wouldn't be surprised if that was pretty common.)

DOUBLE BADGER “THE PEACEMAKER”

Badgers are interesting, because while I think they’re generally regarded as “correct,” they’re also seen as kind of boring. That’s the case with both Badger primaries and Badger secondaries, which means it is doubly reflected in the Double Badger. They often get written as simplistic, the sweet Jane Bennet type who loves everybody and caretakes everybody and just wants everybody to get along.

They are often the targets of what TV Tropes used to call “Break the Cutie.” What could be more interesting than making this character, who wants to be happily part of a community, be forced to build protective models, be all tortured and angsty? I actually think we’re seeing a return of the Double Badger as an interesting character in their own right, with people like Aziaphale, and I'm here for it.

BADGER LION “THE PROTAGONIST”

What can I say? There are a lot of protagonists that are Badger Lions. They want to help the group - so we know they're the good guys - and then they charge and make stuff happen. Lion secondaries are very useful in fiction - you drop them into a situation and stuff just happens. I also think of this as the Starfleet officer sorting - because if you’re a Starfleet officer, either you are the sorting, or can model it really well.

I will say that this is kind of the stock Protagonist sorting, the way that the Snake Badger is the stock love interest and the Snake Bird is the stock villain. There’s just something sort of generic good guy about this one, which is why I want to see it used as a villain sorting more. Badger villains - mostly people who define ‘human’ very narrowly - are insanely terrifying.

BADGER SNAKE “THE ADVISOR”

Possibly “the Power Behind the Throne.” This is another one I had difficulty pinning down. I called it “the Politician” for a while, which unfortunately came off as a little bit more negative than I meant it to, since I think this sorting has a lot in common with Lion Badger, the linchpin of a heroic team. The difference is that Lion Badger takes on that role kind of unconsciously, while the Badger Snake does it very consciously.

Their loyalty is to the group, but their skill set is all about subversion and different ways of going around the group, which is why there’s an interesting contradiction at the heart of Badger Snake. A lot of real life Badger Snakes struggle with feeling like “bad people" and it's too bad. These guys are ridiculously powerful and competent when they are sure of themselves, and I love seeing them in action

BADGER BIRD “THE KING / THE MOB BOSS”

Another difficult one, despite (or because) I really like them. I was calling them “the Architect” because “The City Planner” sounded too boring… but that’s what they do. They’re all about the community but they problem-solve the way all Bird secondaries do, by prepping, and gathering knowledge. I talked more about this in the Lion Bird entry, but Bird secondary seems to have this villain split going on, and that’s what I see here too. This is a controversial love-them-or-hate-them sorting, and I think that’s why. There’s a lot of room in whether or not you see this sorting as villainous.

[clementinecoastline]

still thinking abt iwaoi... (honorary part 3)

thinking about timeskip iwaoi in uci and san juan but they haven't gotten together yet. what then?

home is where the heart is and your heart's with someone else and they don't even know. oikawa goes through his entire day with iwaizumi's heart beating in his chest and he doesn't even notice. they don't realize it, don't see it. they know they're in love but they don't see it in the other and it's so, so obvious.

in the smiles and the staying up late and the incessant worried texting.

(tooru: hope you haven't been staying up too late studying

tooru: or not taking breaks

and oikawa hesitates before continuing

tooru: and that you've been getting enough to eat!!! after all the lecturing you've given me about eating junk food!!!!

tooru: i know you can do it! so you don't need to worry!!!)

(hajime: make sure not to overdo it

hajime: don't practice too hard

hajime: you're the best anyways, get it in your thick skull

hajime: just make sure to be careful

hajime: don't eat too much junk food. and make sure to be careful with your knee)

('it's just iwa-chan texting me again,' oikawa clarifies to his teammates when they ask about the silly smile that had overtaken his face, 'he's just nagging. honestly, is he my mom?')

(no, they think, but he does love you)

oikawa visits irvine one time, and iwaizumi has spent so much time insisting that no, oikawa doesn't love me like that, and convincing his friends that it's one-sided. and then oikawa shows up and the pure adoration in his eyes is overwhelming. they wonder how iwaizumi doesn't see it.

maybe it's because when something is a constant, you never realize it's different.

have they ever not looked at each other like they hung the stars in the sky? have they ever doubted that they'd spend their lives together? (ironic, considering how far apart they are now) has iwaizumi ever seen a different look on oikawa's face?

they were children and iwaizumi was brave and caught bugs and 'saved' oikawa from the grosser ones. they were in middle school and iwaizumi 'saved' oikawa from the depths of his own mind. they were in high school and iwaizumi was his ace and his partner and his most ardent believer.

they are here now and they have never known anything else. their love has grown and matured but it has always been there and they've never known a world without it. it is hard to recognize what's always been there.

oikawa introduces iwaizumi to his teammates on a video call one night. 'we want to meet this iwa-chan of yours!' they cry, 'he sounds so exciting!' and so oikawa calls him up, giving in after so much time spent going 'no, i can't have him corrupting you all so you can work against me!!!' and iwaizumi is there and one of them goes 'oh my god, this is the iwa-chancito?'

and oikawa doesn't have the presence of mind to point out that that's two diminutives combined. he's too focused on iwaizumi himself. and iwaizumi hajime apologizes about how insufferable oikawa must possibly be, simultaneously praising him at times because 'he might be annoying, but he's still the best teammate you can ask for'

i think their love shows in the way iwaizumi picks up no matter how early or late oikawa might call, and vice versa. oikawa is tired and lying in bed, wondering if he made the right calls, if he's actually any good for anything, and iwaizumi will sacrifice his rest just to tell what he sees as immutable truth.

the sun rises in the east, the earth spins on its axis, and oikawa tooru is remarkable and unforgettable. the earth orbits the sun and oikawa tooru could hold it all in the palm of his hand and iwaizumi has never doubted that for a second. (and oikawa has never doubted that about iwaizumi either.)

but no yeah it’s totally unrequited.

[ifmywishescametrue]

omg now im jealous about all of the breaking up and making up stories!!! they're all so wonderful but is it okay to ask for a steve/tony one? i know you've made one inspired by ts (amazing) and this time, maybe they meet/bump in a coffee shop? idk angst potential but also hopeful/happy ending aahhh. your stories are amazing esp ivy!!! thank you! <3

thank you so much!! it ended up being more cute than angsty, but I hope you like it!

Steve's pencil drifts idly across the page of his sketchbook with no end vision in mind. He's killing time until Nat shows up, which could be anywhere between the next five minutes and the next two hours with her vague text that simply said running late. When he looks up to reach for his near empty coffee cup, he freezes with his hand in the middle of the air.

At first he thinks it might not even actually be him. Tony's hair was never quite this well styled before, always a tangled mop on his head that sometimes fell into his eyes. Steve used to spend hours sometimes running his fingers through those wild curls while Tony slept on his chest. It's been tamed since then, cut shorter and held into place by some type of product. The facial hair is new, too. He remembers a time when it would always come in patchy and uneven, and Tony would pout as he shaved away the latest attempt at looking older than he was. The eighteen year old boy in oversized hoodies and stained jeans he met years ago has been replaced by a man in a well-pressed, expensive looking suit with a leather briefcase, like he just stepped out of a boardroom a minute ago. From what Steve has read about his life since they broke up, he probably did.

Steve stares without fully meaning to and for much longer than he would have if it was intentional. He watches him order his drink and smiles when the barista’s eyes widen at what he knows is an overly complicated order, wondering if Tony ever did finish his quest to find that perfect combination of syrup flavors, sugar, and cream that only he would ever like.

He catches the double take when Tony notices him there, right as he’s taking his first sip of the iced drink, and the cough when he chokes on it is anything but subtle. Steve looks away with red cheeks and tries to pretend he wasn’t staring, but it’s a futile effort. He can’t say he minds, though. Not when it means Tony walks over to him and unceremoniously drops himself into the chair across from him.

His mouth forms a familiar smirk, and he says, “You seem to have a staring problem, Rogers.”

Suddenly, Steve is nineteen again, falling hopelessly in love with the boy in his introductory chemistry class. It felt sort of like fate at first when they were paired together for the final project, and Steve remembers thinking that his chances were shot to hell when Tony sat down next to him and said those exact words. He never was any good at being discreet.

Back then, for that first time, all he could manage was a stuttered apology in response. But eventually it became their thing. Something just for them that no one else could ever understand. When Steve would watch him from across the room at parties, because he knew how much Tony loved having his eyes on him, and Tony would saunter over with that same smirk and those same words, there was only ever one reply.

“Guess I just really like what I see,” Steve says, and Tony’s face splits into a grin that matches Steve’s own. He’s still beautiful, even if it’s different now. Less softness to his appearance and more defined edges and sharp lines, but heart stoppingly beautiful nonetheless. He doesn’t quite say as much, but he does comment, “You do look good, by the way. Different, but good.”

Tony’s smile softens into another familiar one. It’s his smile for compliments, when he’s thinking self-deprecating thoughts that he won’t voice. Instead he’ll turn the attention back around, shifting the spotlight.

“So do you. The good part, but not really the different part.”

Steve runs a hand through his hair, contemplating if not looking different contributes to the good or not. He should look different somehow, shouldn’t he? After two and a half years not seeing each other in person and what feels like a lifetime’s worth of heartbreak in between then and now, he should look as changed as he feels. As changed as Tony looks now, like he’s someone new entirely. He’s pretty sure the t-shirt he’s wearing now is one he owned back then.

“Thanks,” Steve says anyway, for lack of anything better.

Just before it has the chance to fall into awkward silence, Tony says, “I didn’t know you were in New York these days. I would’ve called or something if I’d known.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “Would you have?”

“I don’t know, maybe. I would’ve thought about it, at least. You know, stalked you online, found your number, dialed and hung up a few times.”

Steve laughs, fiddling with the straw wrapper from earlier to give himself something to look at other than Tony. “I moved back last year. Thought about calling, but I figured you were busy. Didn’t want to waste your time.”

It’s only a partial truth. He did think about calling when he came to Brooklyn after his year-long internship in London ended, but he didn’t want to know what Tony would say if he did. If he would have some sort of transparent excuse to avoid seeing him or if it would be an outright rejection.

“I would’ve made time for you,” Tony says, so painfully sincere that Steve has to look up again to meet his eyes.

He wonders if Tony is thinking of that last fight, if it’s a purposeful or coincidental reference to some of what Steve said. It was by far the worst fight they’d ever had, all over the phone with an ocean between them and so many things that Steve still wishes he could take back. Accusations flew on both sides until the entire thing was blown so completely out of proportion, yet impossible to reel back in. He should have just hung up the phone before it went that far. Before he could tell Tony that he always felt unimportant compared to everything else in his life, which was sometimes true but entirely unfair. Before Tony could say that Steve talked about Peggy in the same way he used to talk about him, and he didn’t have to finish the thought for Steve to understand the implication.

“Are we talking about it?” Steve asks.

Tony shrugs, feigning casual, but just the corner of his lip is between his teeth in that way that means he’s nervous and trying to hide it. “I guess that depends on what this is.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we said back then that maybe it was just bad timing. You were in London, and I was in Boston until graduation, and it was always going to be a bit of a mess, but there was always that someday chance, right? So maybe this is someday, and we talk about it, and try to get it right this time,” Tony says. “Or maybe that was just something we said and didn’t mean, and I ask you about your life, and you ask about mine, and we talk and laugh and pretend that we’re friends again for the next half hour or so before we go our separate ways.”

It’s an easy choice, really. If there’s one thing that Steve’s sure of, it’s that it’s always been him and always will be.

“I don’t want to go separate ways,” Steve says. “The first time was hard enough, and I never really moved on. I got better, but I don’t think I’ve been more than just fine in a long time.”

Tony nods slowly, “I kept thinking you would call, you know. Back then. I thought you would call and tell me that it was a mistake and it would be okay again, but you never did. Although, I guess I could’ve called, too.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“For the same reason as you, probably. I couldn’t risk it if you didn’t want me again. Couldn’t risk getting back together just to break up again, either. We weren’t exactly the poster children for making long distance work.”

“We were terrible at it, weren’t we?”

Tony’s smile is tinged with the pain of the past. “It’s kind of funny because I remember thinking that it might be a good thing for us when you told me about London. Can’t get sick of somebody if they’re not always around.”

“You thought I would get sick of you? You never told me that.”

“Why would I?” Tony laughs. “Just put all my insecurities on display like that? Come on, Steve, that doesn’t sound like me, does it?”

Steve laughs with him briefly, “No, but I could’ve told you back then that it wasn’t possible. Told you that I wanted you around all the time and I missed you every second you were gone. I might’ve even stayed if you had told me. I was thinking about it, you know? I almost turned the internship down. Probably would’ve if you’d asked even once for me not to go.”

“It was your career. I never would’ve asked you to give that up for me.”

“There would have been something else. Another job somewhere closer to you.”

“I still wouldn’t have asked,” Tony says. “And I would have told you to go if you’d said you were staying.”

Steve knows that, which is why they never talked about it much before he left. Tony pretended to be happy for him, and Steve pretended to be happy for himself, when really it already felt like the beginning of the end. A year apart is longer than it seems, and it didn’t take more than a few months to realize it.

“I never…” Steve starts, trailing off when he doesn’t quite know how to finish the sentence. “There was never anyone else. Not while we were together, and never with Peggy.”

“I know. I knew back then, too, that you were never that kind of person. Jealousy’s just a real bitch sometimes.”

“There’s really not been anyone since, either,” Steve adds, and Tony’s mouth quirks into a half smile. “I mean, a couple of people here and there, but nothing like what we were.”

“There’s not a whole lot out there like what we were, is there?”

Steve smiles, leaning back in his chair, “No, there’s really not. But I do remember reading a rumor that you got engaged.”

Tony groans, and it’s so much like he used to sound when he was nine pages deep into a ten page essay at three in the morning that Steve has to laugh.

“Don’t you dare laugh. That rumor haunts me, Steven,” Tony says, belied by a grin that he seemingly can’t control. “Do you know how I found out about my supposed engagement? When my mother called and asked why I hadn’t told her I was planning on proposing.”

“So I’m still the only person you’ve ever proposed to,” Steve teases, just for the way he knows Tony will get indignant about it.

“How many times do I have to tell you that one didn’t count?”

“You were on one knee, you asked a question, and you had a ring. All the boxes are checked, sweetheart.”

“It was a blue raspberry ring pop, and you ate it,” Tony argues. “Not to mention that I actually asked you to marry me someday in the distant future. That’s not a proposal.”

Steve laughs again, thinking about that day in the middle of their living room, just a few weeks before Steve got the call that would take him to London and change everything. It was almost like a joke, and for anyone else it would have been. Not for them, though, because Steve remembers the look in Tony’s eyes when he dropped down in front of him, spur of the moment and impulsive like almost everything was back then. He remembers how it still felt like a promise, even if it wasn’t the real thing.

“But I said yes, which I think technically means we’re still engaged.”

“Absolutely not,” Tony scoffs. “It’s going to be a production when we get engaged. Elaborate and planned and romantic as hell.”

“When, huh?” Steve grins.

Tony’s cheeks pinken a touch, but he doesn’t take it back. He reaches for Steve’s hand on the table. “Yeah, when. Is that alright with you?”

Steve threads their fingers together, holding on tight. “That’s alright with me.”

[bellarkeselection]

Ice Wife - part 5

Gif by @teamfreewilllover

Part 4

@deepprincesstraveler Years have passed since the burning of Kings Landing. Killing of Dany and the destruction of the Iron Throne. Now Jaime, Y/n and their twin children live happily in the rebuilt six kingdoms.

@deepprincesstraveler Thank you for requesting this idea. I had fun writing this series and so far it's the longest request I have ever gotten 🤗

Jaime's scruff tickles my neck feeling him kiss me to wake up. I shift sleepily giggling at his attempts. "Jaime!" His left arm draped over my middle silk covers lazily hanging over us. The warm summer sun poured into our chambers. "Y/n, my love. It's time to wake up your husband wants to see you." Slowly opening my eyes, rolling over to face my smiling husband. He's always been a morning person compared to me wanting to sleep late after being up all night. Gently running my hand through his locks I smile. He grew his original golden lion locks back but kept a little bit of his beard that I liked when we were reunited. It's not easy to forget what happened. The mother of dragons burned the city like father. Jon is actually a Targaryen. Tyrion is Hand of the King once again. Bran Stark is the new king of the six kingdoms and Sansa is Queen in the North. And there's one other thing...two actually.

"Mommy, daddy!" Two little squealing children burst into our room, jumping into bed with us. Like I said two other things. Jaime grins lovingly at his children, twins like him and Cersei who was crushed by falling rubble. Both our little boy and girl have their fathers eyes. The Lannister's blonde combined with the Stark brown. Alexander and Julianna the heirs to Casterly Rock. The sweetest six year olds you'll ever meet. "Mommy can you make us a ice rink in our room?" Julianna the oldest asks using the puppy eyes. Alexander lays on his father's chest trying to act all cool but his eyes say he wants it as bad as she does.

Climbing out of bed feeling the warm air hit my bare legs under my nightgown I toss her over my shoulder, carrying her to their shared rooms. "As princess Julia requests." I curtsey playfully sitting her on her feet. Jaime walks in with Alexander just seconds before I lightly tap my right foot on the floor turning it an icy floor like my ice castle in the North once was. Jaime had thrown on a light brown tunic and black pants with his boots. Alexander slides over to me talking my hands into his starting to spin us around. Jaime gets pulled onto the ice by his daughter who's a daddy's girl wanting to be a knight like her aunt Ayra.

A few more rounds of twirling somehow I spun into a comfortable chest I know quite well. Jaime. "Hello my icy wolf." He mumbles into my braided hair, twirling me around so my arms go around his neck. "Hi, my Lannister lion." His left hand resting to my cheek with his right arm on my hip. He'd stopped wearing the golden hand thinking we should embrace who we truly are. He leans down gently kissing me and I resipicate hearing our children giggling in the background. "Can somebody please tell Snowy to stop drinking my wine." Tyrion's voice makes us break apart seeing him and Snowy enter the room. Since Kings Landing is so hot I made a snow cloud to keep my snowman alive.

"Snowy!" Julianna squeals when the snowman comes to skate with her. Alexander grins brightly at his uncle. "Uncle Tyrion come play with us?" He's always looked up to him for the way his mind works. Tyrion drinks the last of the wine in his cup getting behind his nehphew sliding down a snow slide, both boys laughing when they land in some snow piles. Looking up at Jaime I playfully smirk and he sees whispering in my ear. "What's that look for, my love?" Flicking my right wrist I conjure up a snowball. "Oh I get ya now." He takes it in his left hand lightly throwing it at Alex, knowing he'll react before anyone else. "Huh...oh it's on!" He declared grabbing some snow with Tyrion and Snowy.

Julianna throws one that turns Tyrion's hair white. I throw one at Snowy who dodges it with a roll. Alexander smacks me with one as Jaime gets hit by one from his younger brother. Laughter fills the hallway as we all throw a couple more snowballs. My brother Bran, the king of the six kingdoms is perfectly fine with our loud giggling. Sansa loves when we travel to the North at the beginning and end of every month. She enjoys seeing her niece and nephew that she spoils like they're her own children. Jon writes letters from beyond the wall while Ayra is off exploring the world.

I sigh in relief feeling Jaime rest his chin ontop my head as I lay my head in the crock of his neck. "You know darling. I've been thinking..." He trails off watching Julianna pretending to stab Tyrion with a toy sword. He dropped to his knees begging before Alexander raised his right hand declaring as if he where a king. "I, prince Alexander Lion Lannister spare ye. Tyrion Lannister, Hand of king Brandon." Julianna helped her uncle off the icy floor placing her sword on the ground. "And I, princess Julianna Cat Lannister am in your service, my lord. What would you have me do?" Tyrion taps his chin seeing Snowy reaching to drink some wine from his bottle, making him aim his finger at him. "I, Tyrion Lannister. Hand of the king declare to...get the snowman!"

The twins cheered chasing after the snowman who just laughs with them. Tyrion picks up his cup pouring himself another drink still smiling. "No one steals my wine." Jaime and I both can't not start cracking up at the scene before us. "What we're you thinking earlier, Jaime?" I question going back to his earlier thought. He gently squeezes me as I look up into his green eyes. "I was saying my darling wife that...lets have another." He plants a kiss to my forehead smiling brightly.

"You'd really want to have a bunch of kids like my mother and father?" I raised my brows remembering the Stark family line had six children in total. He nods lovingly brushing his thumb over my cheek. "Yes I do. You are the love of my life. I want to have as many kids as you want. It's you and me, Tyrion and however many children we want. Baby all I know is that I've got all I need." Leaning up on my tippy toes I crash my lips onto his hungrily and he immediately responds. My hands tangled themselves in his long golden locks feeling his left hand pull me against his chest to deepen the kiss until we need air.

Resting my hands on his chest I grin up at my husband. "It's you and me, forever Jaime. I'll always be ready to have another child with you." I pull his lips down to mine but it's a short kiss when Snowy cries pointing out the window having all of us go to where he points. "My sister's!" Eddarion, Saphiar and Frostine land on the clearing by the docks under the Red Keep. Alexander tugs on his father's right arm. "Daddy, can we go ride the dragons?" He looks down to me slightly worried we'd get hurt or worse.

When they were little babies Jaime loved to hold them but since they've been getting to be the size of Daenerys he's been getting worried for his family's safety. "Of course son." He picks him up in his arms following me outside once I'd changed into a horse riding tunic and trousers. Climbing onto Eddarion with Alexander and Julianna in front of me I see Jaime shifting from foot to foot in nervousness. "Touch me, Jaime." I blurted out to my husband.

"What. Y/n, we could get hurt-" I cut off his worries reaching down for his hand a little closer. "Touch me. I took a leap of faith with you. Now I want you to do it with me." Jaime and I lock eyes both filled with love for our partner. Touch me. Those two words changed everything for the both of us. We'd both broken down the walls we built around ourselves. Tyrion watches on the sidelines with Snowy hoping his older brother will actually ride the dragons.

Jaime slowly places his hand in mine allowing me to help him get on Eddarion and sit behind me. Turning my head to him I rest a hand to his cheek smiling as I kissed him lovingly. "I love you, Jaime Lannister." He kisses back smiling into the kiss as well. "I love you, Y/n Lannister." Placing my hands on the reigns Eddarion slowly soars up into the bright blue skies of Kings Landing.

Tyrion watches from the ground below smiling as King Bran approaches him in his wheelchair. "My sister turned out to be the best thing for him, didn't she Lord Tyrion?" Tyrion looks to his king while hearing his family laughing and cheering from the sky above his head. "Indeed your grace. "Y/n Stark, the Icy Wolf and Jaime Lannister, the Golden Lion. Are perfect for each other."

A Lannister Lion married a Icy Wife.

[autumnalwalker]

So, the above statement that was False about Ashan Glassheart was:

"His isekai wizard adventure was prefaced by being told he was the Chosen One™."

And now time for excerpts to go with each of these:

From Chapter 14 regarding Ashan's language processing issues:

And now it was late at night and Eris and Ashan finally had another private moment to talk.

“So,” Eris says as she sits down at the kitchen table and slides Ashan a microwaved mug of tea, “that translation charm.”

“Still no beating around the bush, I see.  Very well then.  To put it plainly, I am dependent on this trinket for linguistic communication of any kind.  Without it, even the two languages of my childhood sound like gibberish to me and my own thoughts become tangled and difficult to parse.  It is a disquieting experience to say the least.”

Eris swallows her decaf and lets out a low whistle.  “Not gonna lie, that sounds terrifying.  If I’d realized I wouldn’t have asked you to loan it to me.”

“It is fine.  Better that I occasionally try to get used to the sensation in a controlled circumstance of my own volition than to be thrust into it unprepared.  Knowing that I was doing it to help a friend eased the feelings as well.”

“So, how’d it happen?  Adventuring accident?  Pitched wizard duel?”  Eris asks before remembering to hastily add an “If you’re okay with talking about if of course.”

Ashan gently shakes his head.  “Nothing as exciting as that.  I spent seven years, from the age of nine to sixteen, in a foreign world relying entirely on a flawed translation charm for communication instead of truly learning anything of the local languages.  To my mentor’s credit she did make some attempts to teach me early on, but since she had no grasp of English or Spanish we both soon agreed to abandon that in favor of the easy route.

“Long term reliance on translation magic without any breaks to speak one’s own language naturally can have detrimental effects even on adults, much less children whose brains are still going through important developmental stages.  Combine that with the defect in the charm I was using at the time and, well, I think you can see where this is going.  We were not entirely unaware of the problem; even early on there were occasional minor glitches, but they were mild enough and far enough between that we underestimated their seriousness and every time we were about to look into finding me a new charm something would come up.”  Ashan laughs bitterly.  “One time I actually had a new charm in my hands and was about to try it on when an irate dragon landed in the middle of the bazaar.  The merchant we were trying to buy from fled, my mentor ran off to go deal with the dragon, and I left the new charm back in the merchant’s stall because I did not want to steal and my mentor had our money.  One thing led to another and we forgot about replacing the charm again until the glitches got bad enough and frequent enough that we could not ignore them anymore.”

“And that’s when you got this new one.”

“Eventually.  There are seven main different methods of translation magic common in this cluster of worlds and it took some time to find the one that would work best to mitigate my condition and longer still to commission a custom charm that would do more than simply mitigate.  All that time I was barely able to comprehend what was happening to me, only that my mentor was increasingly worried about me and tearing herself apart over it when she thought I was not watching.  Those were a bad few weeks.”

“I can only imagine.  I’m impressed you can talk about it so calmly.  Normally with Lacuna…  Well, that’s her privacy that I shouldn’t be spilling.”

“I can imagine.  She does seem to be a nervous individual.  As for me, this was all long enough ago that the sting is gone and I have made my peace with it.  If anything, I would say this conversation has been something of a relief.  You are the first person I have spoken to about this besides my mentor and my relationship with her is complicated these days.”

“I can imagine.”

Silence stretches.  Drinks cool, one of them still untouched.

From Chapter 17 (not yet posted at time of reblog) regarding what Ashan's mentor told him in order to get him to leave (the context is that everyone is speculating on how to find out who marked Ashan in a way that he 1) would have an artificial limit on how strong his magic can be and what types he can do, 2) couldn't remember receiving that mark, and 3) couldn't perceive the mark once it was on him):

“No need,” Glassheart interrupts.  “It is Aliana Glassgaze.”

“Your mentor?”  Eris asks.

“One and the same.” Glassheart sighs and shakes his head with a bitter smile.  “As I said before, our relationship is complicated.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Road says.  “I can’t imagine this sort of betrayal of trust is easy to take.”

 “This is just one more knot in the tangle.”  Glassheart replies.  “If anything, the timeline and effects that Lacuna just described make a number of things make more sense in hindsight.  When my ment- when Aliana first found me she was rescuing me from a monster that had slipped into this world.  Afterwards, when she was examining me for wounds and lingering influence from the creature, she told me that it looked to her like that was the seventh time this had happened to me, judging by residual amnestic magic from other mages.  She followed that up by telling me I had great potential for being a wizard, but that same potential made me - as she put it - ‘a veritable monster magnet’ such that I would be constantly putting myself and those around me in danger without proper guidance and training.  A dampening seal would explain why I did not continue to attract danger on a world with even more magically-sensitive creatures even in the early days of my training.”

And then later on in Chapter 17 regarding faking his death (the exact age he left was both speculated and confirmed in other places as nine):

“No offense,” Eris says, “but don’t you think you’re being a little quick to defend someone who screwed you over like that?”

“Perhaps,” Ashan concedes.  “Yet still, I find it difficult to truly be angry with her.  She was - is - like a second mother to me.  Apart from her initial sin when she first took me I cannot say that she ever mistreated me.  If anything, she coddled me compared to how most wizards treat their apprentices.  She was clever, kind, and strong.  I wanted to be just like her.  Even now that things are… complicated… between us I still find myself imitating her style and technique.  I still wear the robe patterned after hers, wield the wand carved from the same tree as her staff, and paint my face the same way she does.  The name she gave me feels more true than the one I was born with.   At this point, autogenesis has even molded me until I resemble her at least as much as I do my blood parents.  While she has done things to me that I cannot bring myself to forgive, this is not one of them.”

The lab falls silent save for the hum and respiration of server racks.

“I’m almost afraid to ask,” Lacuna hesitantly speaks up, “but, ‘initial sin’?”

“When she was first convincing me to come with her, she talked me into faking my death and then helped me do it once I readily agreed.  She said it was the best way to cover up my disappearance and save my parents the pain of trying to look for me.  I was naïve and excited to go on a grand and magical adventure.  Child that I was, the full ramifications of that never occurred to me.  Not until too much time had passed to undo the damage.  If I thought about it at all, it was as a passing daydream about how surprised and happy my parents would be when I returned alive one day, and now a wizard.  Afterall, the stories always end with the hero returning home to the ‘real world.’”

“I’m not gonna lie,” Eris says, “that’s kinda fucked up.  What Aliana did, I mean, not you.”

“It is the root of our falling out.  In retrospect, that may have been the reason she doted on me the way that she did, especially in those early days.  A way to assuage the guilt.  She knew what she had done was wrong, but at the time it seemed like the least bad option given the circumstances.  So she said at any rate when I finally confronted her about it.”

Tagging @cljordan-imperium, @ahordeofwasps, @oh-no-another-idea, and @blind-the-winds since you all previously commented with speculation about the answer.

Two Truths and a Lie

Thank you for the tag, @ceph-the-ghost-writer.

Passing the tag to @on-noon, @blind-the-winds, @lycaens, @emeraldmew, @oh-no-another-idea, and an open tag to anyone else who wants to play.

[fridayfirefly]

The Power of Luck [Chapter One]

Read The Power of Luck on AO3

Masterlist [All Works]

Masterlist [The Power of Luck Series]

Written for Maribat March Day 6 - Miraculous Side Effects

The Ladybug Miraculous had quite a few side effects. Marinette was able to think quick on her feet, she was a skilled tactician in battle, and her reaction time was half that of a normal human. Most notably, the Ladybug Miraculous granted its user the force known as Miraculous Luck, which, depending on the situation, was sometimes more of a curse than a blessing. Marinette didn't get to choose how that good luck manifested. For instance, when she needed an extra day to finish a history project, her school closed down due to a gas leak. Or when she wished for a fresh start after the defeat of Hawkmoth, her parents were offered a deal to grow their bakery business in America.

Marinette assured her parents that she didn't mind moving. After all, most of her class had already moved on. Lila had been deported to Italy, narrowly avoiding jail time. Chloé (much to her dismay) was sent by her father to an all-girls boarding school in England. Adrien was taken in by his Aunt Amelie (as Gabriel was in jail and Emilie was declared brain-dead) and moved to England as well.

No one else from Marinette's class left the country, but many of them moved out of Paris. Nathanial was accepted to an elite art school in Marseille. Max was accepted to a gifted program at an elite school in Bordeaux. Officer Raincomprix was transferred to Toulouse and took Sabrina with him. Juleka and Luka both started homeschooling after their mother sailed the houseboat down the Seine to the city of Rouen.

Worst of all was the loss of Alya. Her parents were horrified that the son of Hawkmoth was in the same class as their daughter, and promptly pulled Alya out of class and decided to move out of the city. Alya begged them for weeks but nothing came of her protests. In the end, Alya left too.

The Miraculous Luck could do a lot of things, but it couldn't keep her friends together. Those who remained at François Dupont filled holes in other classes. Marinette tried to make the best of her new class, but she felt no real connection to them. When her parents proposed the move, Marinette jumped on the opportunity. In Gotham, she wouldn't be haunted by the ghost of her old life.

Marinette cut her hair, leaving it choppy and just above the shoulders. She donated all of her brightly colored clothes to the thrift store down the street and created a new wardrobe for herself. It was toned down and mature, much more fitting for Gotham.

Marinette left Paris a much different girl than the naive fourteen-year-old who thought she could save the world. She was ready for a city like Gotham, a city that didn't make any promises, a city where Marinette could set down some new roots.

-----

At first, it was easy to fly under the radar at Gotham Academy. It was a school filled with the self-absorbed children of millionaires and billionaires, after all. Marinette was there on scholarship - her good grades, leadership experience, and working-class parents combined to cut her tuition down by 75%. Marinette quickly learned that scholarship students were at best ignored, and at worst mercilessly bullied. So Marinette kept her head down and vowed that she would get through the year unscathed.

There was one variable, however, that the Miraculous Luck wasn't able to account for. Marinette's entire plan fell apart thanks to one boy: Damian Wayne.

Marinette became acquainted with Damian Wayne through the school's rumor mill. She learned that he was one of the most wealthy and most attractive people in the school, but he was thought himself too good to spend time with any of his fellow classmates (Marinette couldn't fault him on the last bit; she also found the students at Gotham Academy to be difficult, to say the least). Marinette also learned through the school's rumor mill that Damian spent quite a lot of time staring at her. Given that Damian had never paid the slightest amount of attention to a Gotham Academy girl before, this was a big deal. Suddenly Marinette was the farthest thing from under the radar. Everyone who used to look down on her wanted to be her friend. It was exhausting.

Marinette resolved to ignore Damian Wayne - an easy task, given that she still didn't even know what he looked like. Now that everyone was staring at her, it was hard to

"Why?" grumbled Marinette. "Why couldn't my so-called Miraculous Luck help me get through one normal year of school?"

Tikki shrugged from her spot inside of Marinette's backpack. "Maybe all of this attention will turn out to be a good thing?"

"I doubt that." Marinette glanced around, checking that no one had spotted her talking to her backpack. There was one spot in the cafeteria that was hidden from view, a window-sill nestled behind a pillar, bordered by a wall on one side and an out of order vending machine on the other. Marinette sat on the window-sill every day to eat lunch, with Tikki as her companion for the meal.

"I think your problem is that you're overthinking this. Miraculous Luck always works out in the end, even if there are some obstacles in the middle."

"I just want this horrible school year to be over," sighed Marinette, setting her head down in her arms.

"Don't give up yet, Marinette. I have high hopes for this school year," said Tikki.

Marinette had some serious doubts but picked her head up anyway. Maybe this year wouldn't turn out the way she expected. Marinette defeated Hawkmoth, the greatest villain Paris ever faced. She could survive a year of high school.

-----

Marinette was going to survive her senior year of high school. Damian Wayne on the other hand... Marinette still wasn't sure if she was going to let him survive the year, after everything he put her through.

"Excuse me?" a sickeningly sweet voice piped up from behind Marinette.

Marinette put on her best disinterested-face, took out one headphone, and turned around. "Yes?"

There were three girls standing behind her: a blonde, flanked on both sides by a brunette and a red-head. The blonde girl had a smile on her face but a devious look in her eyes. Marinette had long ago learned to spot manipulators, and this girl had it written all over her. "Are you Marinette Dupain-Cheng?"

"Yes."

"My name is Julie Cooper. I was just wondering... Are you dating Damian Wayne?"

Marinette huffed in exasperation. "What do you think?"

Julie's eyes narrowed. "I just wanted to warn you. I mean, did you really think that Damian Wayne would seriously date a girl here on scholarship? You should break up with him before you get hurt."

"It was a rhetorical question. I'm not dating Damian Wayne. It's just a rumor."

Julie instantly perked up. "Oh, good! I was beginning to think that Damian had lost his mind. I mean, I'm sure you would be a nine or a ten at a public school, but at Gotham Academy, you're like a seven, maybe an eight on a good day. Most of the girls who go here are actually hot, not just," the girl waved her hand towards Marinette. "Above average."

Marinette wasn't sure if Julie meant for her to feel flattered or offended, but her words had the strange effect of making Marinette feel both all at once. "Um, thanks? I'm going to go now."

Julie's brunette friend suddenly paled as the girl started to tug on Julie's sleeve. "Um, Julie?" she whispered.

"What, Nora?" Julie's eyes widened as they fixed on something behind Marinette.

Marinette turned around to see what the cause of their concern was. Or rather, to see who the cause of their concern was. It was a boy, tall and scowling. "Are you done here, Cooper?"

Julia nodded, a nervous edge to her voice, "Bye, Marinette." She and her two friends hurried off, exchanging frantic whispers.

"What do you want?" asked Marinette with a sigh. She was tired of dealing with boys who were only interested in her because Damian Wayne was interested in her.

"I wished to apologize."

"For Julie? Did you put her up to this?"

The boy looked confused. "No, of course not. I meant that I wanted to apologize for everything, not just Julie Cooper."

"For everything?" The truth suddenly dawned on Marinette. "You're Damian Wayne! I didn't think that you would be so tall."

"You didn't know what I looked like?" There was real shock in his voice.

"Well, by the time I learned that you had been staring at me everyone was staring at me, so that wasn't much help in figuring out who you were."

"You could have googled me."

Marinette shrugged. "I could have, but it felt weird to google one of my classmates. I pretty much just resigned myself to never figuring out who you were."

"I should have approached you sooner. I've wanted to apologize for a while, but every time I've caught you alone you've looked like you wanted to be left that way."

"I'm not a fan of most of the students here."

"The students here can be..." Damian searched for the appropriate word. "Tiresome. I resigned myself to a dull four years of high school in their company. That is, until I saw you."

Marinette cocked her head. "Why me, though? I'm nothing special."

"You're different than everyone else here."

Marinette stiffened. "I know. I've been told. I'm here on a scholarship which means I don't belong," she snapped

Damian shook his head. "No, that's not what I meant. You move through life differently than all of the other students here. You don't care about the gossip or drama - at least, not until you were right at the center of it all. You've seen the real world, so you float above the high school drama. You're just so... so..."

"So what?" Marinette's tone softened.

Damian ran his hand through his hair, ruffling it. The addition of the messy hair added a certain charm to his otherwise polished exterior. "I've been brainstorming for the right word for weeks. The best I can come up with is pure. You don't let yourself become affected by anything in this school."

It was a very flattering description of her. It was also very on the nose. "I'll forgive you, Damian Wayne, but only on one condition."

"What?"

"I want to get to know you, and I have a feeling that you feel the same way."

Damian nodded. "It's a deal."

Maybe her Miraculous Luck wasn't so useless after all. Marinette had expected to go the whole year without making a single friend. Now, it seemed that she might make one after all.

@maribatmarch-2k21

[fanmoose12]

after death do us apart

Summary: Levi thinks his house is haunted.

Levi is in his kitchen, busy with a very important task of measuring leaves for the tea when he hears a loud, obnoxious thud, coming from his living room.

He softly curses, grabs his cane and rushes, as fast as he can with his body not as strong as it was before, there.

When he arrives, he sees that everything else is in order, except a picture frame that is now lying on a floor.

Levi's blood boils, an annoyance bordering on anger rushing through him. This picture - that one that now lies on the floor like some kind of useless shit - is his most priced possession. It is the only thing that keeps the memory of them alive, the one thing that reminds him during cold and dark nights that he might be alone right now, but there was a time where he wasn't.

It's a picture of him, Hange, Erwin and Mike all standing together with their arms around each other. He doesn't remember if that had ever happened, but that's what he had found in one of Moblit's notebook and after he made that discovery, he just couldn't leave it behind.

No picture of them exists - Mike and Erwin were gone even before they found out what a photo camera was, and in her last years, Hange was always too busy to take a single photo.

He regrets it now, not pushing her to take it, but Moblit's picture is vibrant enough. He doubts a photo could capture their essence quite like his sharp eyes and skilfful hands could.

Onyakopon tells him there are more pictures of Hange now. There are portraits made by talented artists that paint Hange as the last Commander of Survey Corps or during her last moments on Earth.

They're hanged in museums and various memorials but Levi doesn't wish to see any of them. He doesn't care about them, those pictures - they were drawn by talented artists, and Levi doesn't doubt that.

But they never knew Hange, not like he did. So how could they come up with something worthy of the light she bestowed on this world? How they could ever hope to put it on paper?

Levi crouches down, his bones and protesting, and picks up the picture frame.

Thankfully, it is still intact.

But just as his old, broken heart swells with relief, there is another thud. This time, the book falls down, nearly missing Levi's head.

He curses again, loud and vulgar, letting out the best of profanities the Underground taught him.

He whirls around, his eye searching for the offender. The room is empty, though. It's mostly silent too, the only sounds flowing around are those from outside his window. But then he hears it, a faint, feeble murmur that sounds almost like "sorry".

His heart clenches, his hand gripping the cane to keep himself grounded.

He knows that particular sorry. Heard many times many years ago - ehen he stumbled over the barely conscious, sleep deprived body, when his shirt got soaked in tea, soup or some kind of possibly dangerous chemicals, heard it repeating over and over as gentle, trembling hands inspected his injuries and wiped away the blood.

It was sometimes accompanied by cheerful, loud laughter, other times - with quiet, broken sobs.

He couldn't hear that sorry. He couldn't.

It was just a trick of imagination, nothing more, nothing less.

I am not old enough to go senile yet, he thinks as he puts the picture where it belongs to.

It was just a trick of imagination, he repeats and leaves the room.

He goes back to the kitchen and resumes his task. The skin on the back of his neck is prickling, like someone stares intently at it, but Levi chases that feeling away, convincing himself that he's simply being paranoid.

He pointedly ignores the quiet sound, the one that resembles a sigh of disappointment and the one he heard too many times too, during long nights at the lab and inside Commander's office, as well.

***

It's not the first weird (unexplained, she would say) thing that happened in his house. There are instances happening all over the place, each of them brings a different degree of strangeness

Windows and doors - close and open on their own volition, lights turn on and off, books, his clothes, kitchen ware - disappear for hours only to appear in the most random of places, bangs and knocks sound at all times of the day, merciless to his sleeping pattern.

Logically, he knows that it isn't normal. He also knows that he probably should talk about it with someone. But he was never good with that thing - talking. All the people he was somewhat comfortable sharing his troubles are now dead and gone.

He theoretically can discuss it with Gabi and Falco, but he doesn't want to, because, well, no matter how big they think they are, they're still children. Onyakopon is out of question too, because he might just get too worried and then send him into that building on the edge of the town - mental institution, he calls it.

And Levi might be old, but he's not senile. Yet.

Probably. He hopes so at least.

His mind is still his own, broken but not shattered. He knows right from wrong, sees the difference between reality and a dream.

He still functions properly, and yet those instances don't back away.

He'd ignore it, write it off as a product of imagination or strange coincidence. If only it happened once. Or twice. Three times even. Three weird happenings in a row is hard, but possible to ignore. But when it happens every damn day, for almost dozen times, it's not just hard to ignore. It's fucking annoying too.

He knows a name he can put to describe it all, of course. Born and raised in the depth of Underground, how can he not? Stories like this were well known and greatly appreciated down there. They were children of the dark, after all, friends with shadows. Everything dark and scary, anything feared above their little world was welcomed and encouraged.

Isabel used to warn him about enraged, vengeful spirits that hunt those who wronged them or those who disturbed their resting place. Kenny - when he was in a less shitty, kinder mood - used to tell him about souls that die without fulfilling their purpose and were destined to roam through the land of the living for all eternity, unable to sleep with their business unfinished.

Before putting him to bed or whenever she felt especially sentimental, his mother used to speak of those unlucky ones who died before their loved ones did.

"They cannot find peace even in death," she said. "And so they come back to our world and stay close to the ones they still cannot let go, watching them until they are able to reunite."

He never believed in those stories, though. Perhaps, he was born and raised in the Underground, but he got out of it, lived his best years with the sun shining on his face and wind blowing through his hair.

He thought ghosts doesn't exist.

But now that his best years are behind him, now that he has seen enough shit to know that anything is possible, now that some days he himself feels like a ghost, he starts thinking of them more and more.

Hange is gone, he reminds himself, she's gone and even though you miss her like crazy, it won't bring her back.

Hange is gone, and none of it is real.

But, god, does he really wishes that it was. *** It is the middle of the night, and Levi feels a presence behind him. It's not ominous like in that book about ghosts he recently found. It's quite soothing, actually. It makes him almost content.

It's not looming or hoovering over his form either. It's right next to him, as though this something - or someone - lays on a bed close to him.

It doesn't bother him anymore, nearly not as much as it did before. It brings him comfort, in some sort. It reminds him of-

No. It doesn't.

The presence behind him shifts and Levi feels the blanket slip from his legs.

No, that won't do.

He tugs the blanket back, but either he's getting too weak with age or that presence, ghost or whatever is so much stronger than him, but he can't get it back. They fight for it for a while, each struggling to get the upper hand. Levi yanks it back, applying all the force that's still left in him, but bears no result. He grits his teeth, sweat gathering on his temples as he pulls the blanket.

"Give it back, you little sh-"

He doesn't get to finish.

The loud, snapping sound of ripping cloth cuts him off.

"Fuck!" Levi yells, frustrated. It was his favorite blanket. "Is this so funny to you, you piece of shit? Why do you keep tormenting me?"

There is a bit of silence, and then lights in his room turn on. With wide eyes, Levi watches the paper levitate from a small pile on his desk. Pen appears next, and it hovers above the paper, the sounds of furious scribbling filling the dark room.

Before he can say anything else, shout more profanities or threaten the invisible fucker to get out (he may not be as strong as he was before, but he has a cane and he still knows how to use it effectively), the paper starts flying, catching him right in the face.

Levi takes it in his hands, squinting his good eye to see what's written there.

It IS funny, but i didn't wish to torment you. You know that, right?

Something resembling a sob escapes from his lips. Levi fists his hands into sheets below him, but eight fingers is apparently not enough to ground him and keep him from falling.

"Who are you?" he asks shakily, his voice breaking.

The pen starts moving again, flying over another paper. This one isn't thrown in his face. It's gently laid next to his thigh. Levi takes it, and his hands shake so much it gets hard to read. Words swim between his eyes, but Levi persists, laying the note on his lap and bending over to see better.

His whole world shakes when he finally deciphers the words.

Haven't you guessed already?

He closes his eyes and some sound escapes past his lips, he's not sure if that can be called a sob or a chuckle, or a combination of both, but his whole body is trembling as he tries to fight strength to whisper,

"Hange?"

From somewhere close to him, on his left side where she always used to be, he hears a delighted, happy laughter.

He looks around the room, his eye shifting, desperate to find her, but he sees nothing.

Fear grips at his heart.

So just a hallucination then? Simple wishful thinking?

"Where are you?" he murmurs, giving it all another chance. "Hange-"

"I'm here," a warm sensation travels up his forearm. It doesn't exactly feel like an ordinary touch would, but it's there, it seems real and it fills his chest with hope. "Right here, a little to your left," she continues. "Just look at me, Levi."

He does, immediately he does. But there is no one next to him. The gentle sensation doesn't fade, gets more persistent if anything, but Levi still can't see her.

"You need to look a little bit harder," Hange murmurs. "If you can hear me, I'm sure you can see me."

Levi stares, his eye focused on the empty place next to him. He strains his vision, moves his gaze up and down, huffs in frustration and then finally, finally, he sees something.

It's vague, indistinct, barely visible in the dark, but he makes out the outline of the body. He can see the mop of brown hair, and they're messy as always, can see strong arms and wide shoulders, that long, prominent nose, that rosy, soft lips that are stretched out in a hopeful smile, those brown, sparkly he missed so much.

"Hange," he breathes out, his voice barely above whisper.

He wants to touch her, god, he wants to touch her so much, but when he puts his hand above hers, it goes right through her.

"The situation is not exactly perfect," Hange laughs. "I don't think you can touch me, and I can't exactly touch you as well."

"I don't care," he shakes his head and moves his fingers, until his and Hange's are close. He doesn't feel much, but something warm is still there and it still makes his breath stumble.

Hange is here, she's not gone, not completely, she's here, with him. It is more than enough.

*** They fall into a sort of routine after that. It's easy with Hange, as it always was.

She disappears for short periods of time, refusing to tell Levi where she goes.

"They asked me not to tell you," she says enigmatically, and doesn't ever elaborate, no matter how many Levi asks.

At first, he still worries he's going crazy, but then Falco, Gabi and Onyakopon show up. They all sit down around the small coffee table in Levi's living room, chatting amongst themselves and sharing the last news and gossips.

"You look healthier," Falco remarks, as Levi brings the tea from the kitchen.

As soon as he puts the cups down, the chaos begins.

The door shuts with a loud bang, the windows rattle and chandelier above them starts to dangerously tremble.

Levi also notes that Hange is careful not to make any mess, but she still acts so damn loud. And dramatic. He hides a sigh as he continues to sip on his tea and watch Onyakopon, Gabi and Falco lose their shit in front of him.

Gabi ducks behind an armchair, Falco close on her heels, curling around her. Onyakopon keeps frantically looking around, his breath quick and shallow. Levi can almost hear the sound of his panicked heartbeat.

"Stop it, four-eyes," he murmurs, too softly to everyone else to hear (not that they could pay attention to him amidst all that clutter anyway).

Everything stills immediately. Silence washes over his apartment, interrupted only by Onyakopon's gasps.

Hange snickers beside him, but Levi is the only who can hear her.

"This was fun," she giggles, running a hand over his shoulder.

Levi can't disagree with her on that one.

"What was that?" Onyakopon exclaims, clutching his heart. "Was it-"

"A ghost?" Gabi cries out, looking both horrified and excited.

Levi glances at Hange, silently telling her 'she looks just like you'. She waves him off and turns back to Gabi.

"Is is the first time it happens?" Falco asks.

"No," Levi answers, shrugging. A week ago, he'd be as disturbed as his friends are, but now he moved past disturbance to acceptance to delight. "It's been happening for weeks now."

"You aren't safe here," Falco, bless his young soul, looks genuinely worried, down to the deep crease on his forehead. "We should look for another apartment."

"Don't bother. I'm quite comfortable here."

Of course, he's comfortable. Hange is here with him, after all.

"But!" Gabi tries to protest, but Levi silences her with a raised palm.

"I'm not injured or unwell," he gestures on himself, as if to illustrate his point. "And, besides, it gives house some character, don't you think?"

"A very scary character," Onyakopon notes.

"Well," Levi almost smiles, hearing Hange's laughter behind his back. "The house is not very different from its master then."

His guests leave soon after, but not before Gabi and Falco make him swear to call them if anything 'more dangerous and scarier' happens.

As soon as they're out, Levi sits down in his favorite armchair. Hange flies over to him.

"So," she looks up at him, and the bright sparkle in her eyes, even though it is still a bit indistinct, sets his heart racing. "Have I convinced you that you're not going crazy?"

He wants to ask how, opens his mouth even, but then promptly shuts it closed. Of course, it is Hange. She knows his thoughts better than he does.

And if he had any doubts about her realness, they've disappeared right in that moment.

*** Hange is almost always next to him, hovering over his shoulder and constantly chatting into his ear. It almost feels like the good old days.

Although now he can't kick her leg whenever she starts teasing or rambling too much. His trademark glare has to be good enough, though.

He brings Hange books and introduces her to all kinds of new technology. She is beaming like a child at every new thing he shows her, and Levi's heart is so full of love for that weirdo, he's afraid it's going to burst.

Hange accompanies him on his strolls too, and his poker face has never put to trial more than during those moments, when Hange starts joking or fooling around, making him almost lose all of his composure.

He can't laugh or even berate her in public, and she knows it, goddamn. And uses it for her advantage, the asshole.

Levi gets his revenge when they're back at his house, refusing to give her new books until she swears to behave.

She swears every time, hand on her chest and all that. And she breaks that promise the very same day. Levi can't stay mad at her, though. He never could.

*** "You know, I thought you were a vengeful spirit at first," he shares with her one evening.

He sits in front of the fire, his legs outstretched to the source of warmth. Hange is laying on the floor, book hovering above her. She closes and turns to Levi.

"I could be," she says. "But, unfortunately, the people I'd like to haunt are long dead as well. Floch is gone, Eren is too..." Hange scoffs, shaking her head. "And I can't very well haunt every bloodthirsty soldier back in Paradise. Too much work for the old, frail me."

Levi lifts an eyebrow. "You don't look that old to me. Especially, when compering with me..."

"Oh, Levi," Hange rises and gets closer to him. She sits down on his lap, and Levi feels warmth spread through the skin of his cheek as Hange puts her hand on it. There is a smile on her lips, the one that Levi knows too well. The one that means that Hange is going to say something very, very stupid. She opens her mouth and proves him right once again. "I was always more attractive than you," Hange murmurs. "Nothing changed since my death."

He rolls his eye and laments that he can't flick her nose.

Hange is still smiling, and when she leans in, he can almost feel a ghost of a kiss on his lips. *** "Don't you ever feel regret?" Levi asks one day.

He is sitting in his wheelchair, looking at the bright setting sun from the small garden near his house.

Hange is on top of him, her long legs dangling from the wheelchair. As he speaks up, she turns to him, and the happy expression turns into something more thoughtful.

"Regret?" she repeats, frowning. "What can I ever regret?"

"This?" Levi gestures around. "I know, you're still here, but don't..." he frowns, struggling to find the right words. "Don't you wish for something more? For us to have a proper chance?"

Hange looks up at the sky, and for a moment she's quiet. Levi thinks if he should take his words back, change the subject completely but it's something that's been bugging him for a long time. He's happy, so happy, that Hange can still be with him. But there are moments when he wishes for... more. To be able to hold her hand and share meals with her, to walk with her through the streets without worrying that someone might think he's some drunkard or lunatic who talks to himself.

He knows it's selfish to even think about it, he already received so much more than he deserved, but isn't selfishness an inherent part of a human?

Sometimes, he just can't help but long for something more.

"I'm sure you know what a method of trial and error means," Hange begins, looking back at him. Her words confuse him, but before he can open his mouth, Hange shushes him and continues. "Remember those days at my lab? Nothing ever worked out, every experiment turned into an ever bigger disaster than the previous one, and I was so frustrated I wanted to crawl up the wall. But there was a certain beauty in it all - I tried, I failed, I tried again. Over and over, until something good came out. And, boy," she chuckles. "When something worked, it worked perfectly. And, maybe, all of this, all of us," she swiftly runs her fingertips through his brow and Levi shivers at the warm, gentle feeling that spreads down to his soul. "As a failed attempt. We tried, it didn't work," she pauses, and her eyes are bright, much brighter than the sun behind her. "We can try again."

Her words stir something inside, a long forgotten feeling of hope. But he still can't accept it so easily, the cynic in him fights to make himself known.

"But you're already dead," he protests.

"And that means this attempt has failed. Not as spectacularly as that time when my experiment blew up and burned Moblit's eyebrows, but... not a perfect success either. We can try again, though. We can say goodbye, walk from each other and then meet again, in some other place and time."

"And what if we fail again?"

"Then we try again. And again, and again, until we can get it right. And when we finally do, oh boy!" she exclaims, flailing her arms into the air. "Wouldn't that be spectacular?"

She laughs, so happy and free, and Levi wishes to gather her in his arms and never let go. All he can do right now, though, is circle his hands around her waist, imagining that he's holding her.

Just like always, he trusts Hange.

They will meet again, and, maybe, it will all fall apart in a disaster worse than this one. But they can try again. They can keep trying, until... forever.

And, perhaps, that's the true beauty of life.

[tennessoui]

when is anakin going to get his revenge and kiss divorced obi-wan back

yes hello this got out of hand and the best moment would be in the hypothetical part two but here is a KUWSK directly post kiss from Anakin's pov. For context, this snippet and this snippet probablllyyyy should be read?

(2.8k, ffs @ kit)

“He was thinking about Satine,” Anakin tells himself after he drops the kids off at school and starts making the drive back home. His hands are tight on the wheel. He’s been trying to think about something else--anything else ever since it happened, but his mind refuses to let go of that moment.

He’s replayed it so many times in the last hour and a half that it doesn’t even feel like an actual memory anymore, just a combination of sensations.

The chill of the almost winter morning that made the hair on his arms stick up. The tacky feeling in his mouth because he had slept a bit later than he had wanted to and didn’t have time to brush his teeth if he wanted to make breakfast before the kids and Obi-Wan left.

The woodsy-spiced smell of Obi-Wan’s cologne, stronger than normal. They’d been standing closer together than normal too, but it had been so early and Obi-Wan’s mind had obviously been miles away.

Anakin had been saying something stupid, something that didn’t mean anything, and Obi-Wan had replied and then Obi-Wan had leaned in and kissed him, full on the mouth. His beard had felt so soft against Anakin’s skin, his lips even softer, if a bit chapped.

Had they been chapped? Now Anakin can’t remember, he’s turned this memory over in his head so often. It had been for less than a handful of seconds. A quick brush of lips, a taste of a life Anakin has dreamt about for well over a year now. And Obi-Wan had just turned and left, as if he hadn’t done anything extraordinary. As if he hadn’t just kissed Anakin on the porch for everyone to see.

Obi-Wan would never be that cruel on purpose. Perhaps to that one profesor who always tries to refute Obi-Wan’s papers, but not to Anakin.

Which means Obi-Wan hadn’t been thinking. He had been perhaps caught up in the domesticity of it all, of having someone wish him luck and see him off. And maybe Anakin has been doing something like that for the last two years, but there’s a person who did that for Obi-Wan for much longer. A person they ran into at the park just two days ago.

“He was thinking about Satine,” Anakin tells himself as he gets out of the car and unlocks the house. He tries desperately to keep the despair and jealousy out of his voice, but at least no one’s around. It’s not that he hates the woman or anything. Really, he doesn’t. He doesn’t understand her, but that’s a given.

He’d never have Obi-Wan’s heart and soul and throw it away. He’d never get tired of fighting with Obi-Wan if he was fighting to stay with the man. He’d never be able to run into him at a park and then just leave again as if seeing him stirred up nothing inside of him.

Seeing Obi-Wan always stirs things up inside of Anakin. It makes no sense that Satine, who had had Obi-Wan’s love--knew all those things about the man that Anakin did not and could not know as just his housemate--had just been satisfied with saying hello and then just as quickly goodbye.

The same cold sinking feeling that Anakin’s been trying to shake off for the last two and a half days returns, and he has to lean against the countertop in the kitchen for a second to ground himself.

They’re going to get back together. They will.

At the park, they had seemed so in their own world, as if everything else had disappeared except for them. Anakin had had to send Luke over, couldn’t stand watching that reconnection happen without at least trying to remind Obi-Wan that he has a family now, that he’s not alone anymore, that there are people who love him.

Obi-Wan had glared at him for his meddling, which hadn’t admittedly done wonders to his confidence. And when Obi-Wan had deposited Luke--Luke--on the ground to chase after Satine, when he had hugged her, Anakin knew for sure.

They were going to lose him.

Anakin had had his set of chances and had taken none of them, and now Obi-Wan’s going to re-fall in love with his ex-wife and Anakin’s going to have to be the supportive best friend who has to figure out how to tell his children that due to unforeseen and tragic circumstances, their Obi is probably going to elope to Paris and maybe send a postcard once or twice a year addressed solely to the children and Anakin will grow old and die alone and the name Obi-Wan Kenobi will be banned from his small, shadowy apartment, and all Anakin will have is a few memories of the two most important and heart wrenching kisses he’s ever been a part of in his entire life.

“He was thinking about Satine,” he tells himself. “He kissed me but it wasn’t about me. It hasn’t ever been about me.”

There’s no denying that Obi-Wan loves Anakin’s children and also no denying that his children love Obi-Wan. Anakin thinks he wouldn’t love Obi-Wan half as much if he hadn’t absolutely been charmed by the kids and vice versa. But he had been. They had been. Those few weeks when Anakin had thought about leaving a year ago had been absolutely awful because he knew he would be breaking his twins’ hearts, not just his. He’d be hurting Obi-Wan too, he had known that.

But he had had to try. Because he knew that if he didn’t try to leave then he’d have to be dragged kicking and screaming out of Obi-Wan’s life when it came time for the man to grow tired of his presence.

It had been a last ditch attempt at saving his dignity. And it hadn’t taken much argument from everyone else to get him to abandon the idea completely.

Now he can’t help but to think he should have put his foot down, gotten some distance. Because now he’s entrenched in Obi-Wan’s world, the same way Obi-Wan is entrenched in his and the twins’ world. Leaving now will feel like ripping himself in two. He’ll probably wake up in the middle of the night five years from now and wonder about the academic response to Obi-Wan’s most recent publication.

He’ll probably have read it. He’ll probably still be fielding questions from his kids’ friends’ parents about whatever happened to that handsome man that used to come in to help during Show-And-Tell Day? Do you remember who I’m talking about, Anakin?

If he had left then, the idea of leaving now wouldn’t hurt so much. But there’s a ticking clock in his head.

Obi-Wan kissed him.

But he was thinking about Satine.

He calls Padme, because that’s sort of what he does when he doesn’t know what to do. She’s never turned him away--with the rejected marriage proposal being the one glaring exception, of course.

Thankfully, she doesn’t start now, though she does sound a little stressed when she picks up.

“Hey,” he says trying to sound normal and as if he isn’t a few minutes alone with his thoughts away from crying like a baby.

“Ani?”

“Are you--are you busy? Something sort of happened.”

“My flight is boarding,” Padme admits, but there’s a rustle on the other end of the line like she’s just sat down. “But it’s not like I’m not assigned a seat. They won’t leave without me. What happened?”

Anakin smiles in spite of himself. She’s really just such an angel of a person.

“Are the children alright?” she asks, sounding worried the longer it takes for Anakin to respond. “Ani?”

“No, yeah, the children are fine. I dropped them off at school this morning. But. Um.” He takes a deep breath. “Obi-Wankissedme.”

“I’m sorry?” Padme asks.

“Obi-Wan kissed me.”

The other end of the line is silent. “And we’re calling this a problem now?” she asks faintly. “Is he a bad kisser?”

“He’s a great kisser,” Anakin defends, shifting awkwardly on his feet, catching sight of the fridge door and quickly turning away.

“Then I don’t…?” Padme trails off uncertainly. Anakin can understand this confusion. Padme has only had to hear about how much Anakin wants Obi-Wan to kiss him for about two years now.

“I don’t think he realized he did it,” Anakin confesses. “He just did it as he was leaving. Because I said goodbye. It--I don’t think he realized who he was kissing.”

Now Padme sounds a distinct mix of skeptical and sympathetic, a tone Anakin’s only ever heard her use with him. “What makes you say that?”

“Because--because we went to the park the other day and he ran into his ex-wife and they were together for, for years so--so obviously he just--he wasn’t--it wasn’t me he was kissing. He was thinking about Satine.”

The words sound dull and practiced and lifeless.

“Oh, Anakin,” Padme says.

“And they’re probably gonna get back together, and we’re going to have to leave, and he’ll never know that I--” Anakin cuts himself off and thunks his head on the countertop with a groan.

Padme hums disbelievingly. “Anakin, I know you’ve never believed me when I say this, but that man is gone over you. And I think if he kissed you long enough for you to tell me for certain that he’s a good kisser, then he definitely knew he was kissing you.”

Anakin bites his lip and debates the pros and cons of being completely truthful. But he had called Padme for help, and she can’t provide the best advice if she doesn’t know the full story.

“That’s not the first time he’s kissed me,” Anakin finally admits, rubbing bashfully at the back of his neck.

“What?” Padme exclaims, probably much louder than appropriate for a public space. “Anakin Skywalker, explain yourself right now.”

He exhales forcefully. “Last New Year’s Eve party.”

“That was almost a year ago! And nothing else ever happened between you two? What? We always thought that once the first kiss was out of the way we’d need to beat you both with sticks to keep you off each other.”

“Well--wait, who’s we?”

Padme tsks. “Myself and Obi-Wan’s coworker.”

“You’ve been gossiping about me?” Anakin asks, torn between being flabbergasted and offended.

“That’s not important right now,” Padme says airily. “What’s important here is the fact that you apparently kissed Obi-Wan Kenobi and never told me?”

“He doesn’t remember, okay?” Anakin snaps. “He. We’d been drinking. A lot. It was after everyone left. And. I was in the kitchen and he was in the kitchen and he--”

--had pinned him to the front of the fridge and just looked at Anakin for a few seconds like he was the most precious, important thing in the entire world, and Anakin had opened his mouth to say something and Obi-Wan had--

“--kissed me,” Anakin says out loud. “And then he--”

He had pressed impossibly closer to Anakin, one hand wrapped around his hip, caressing the thin skin there while his other hand ghosted down Anakin’s hair and back as if he couldn’t decide where he wanted to touch, as his tongue mapped out Anakin’s mouth for what could have been seconds or minutes, and Anakin could have stayed there forever, but his own hands had grabbed too tightly onto Obi-Wan’s shoulders, must have jerked him forward too roughly, because he had been pushed away and--

“--threw up in the kitchen sink,” he finishes.

There’s dead silence on the other end of the line before Padme bursts out laughing. “Okay, okay,” she says once she’s calmed down. “But how do you know for sure he forgot about that? Sounds like something he might just never want to talk about if it ended up with him vomiting in the kitchen.”

“I just know,” Anakin promises. And he does. Obi-Wan had no idea about that kiss. It was a secret Anakin thought about too often, but one he had kept to himself for nearly a year, too afraid to reveal it to Obi-Wan only for the man to say he hadn’t meant to, it hadn’t meant anything, he’d been much too drunk.

Even the idea of Obi-Wan apologizing for one of the hottest kisses Anakin’s ever experienced in his life has been enough to keep Anakin silent on the matter.

But now he’s been kissed again, this time by a sober Obi-Wan, and it still--it still doesn’t mean anything.

“It didn’t mean anything to him then, or he would have remembered,” Anakin tells Padme. “And this one doesn’t mean anything either. The timing is just...it can’t be a coincidence, Padme. He’s never once thought about kissing me, about...about coming home to me like that, and now, a few days after he runs into his ex-wife he’s suddenly planting one on me as he walks out the door? I know--I know you think he...he might...he might have liked me, or...or wanted me, but. There’s no way I can hold a candle to a decades long marriage. I just. I can’t compete with that. He doesn’t want me to.”

Padme’s Anakin is cut off on her end by what sounds like a flight attendant. “Yes, I’m coming,” Padme tells the person, and there’s shuffling and then the distinct sound of the harsh beep of the ticket scanner, before Padme’s heels are clicking on the flight tunnel. “Do not rush me,” Padme tells someone. “What are you going to do, close this thing while I’m in it?”

Anakin has to hide his only sort of watery smile in his hand as he listens quietly on his end.

“Anakin?” Padme asks, and she must be on the plane because there’s a buzz of other people’s noises around her. “Anakin, I know you won’t believe me, and maybe--maybe you’re right and they’ll get back together, maybe you’re going to lose him.” Anakin’s heart hurts quite painfully at these words. “But do you remember what you did the first time you proposed to me and I said no?”

Great, yeah. Just bring up all his biggest failures in love. Sure, why start with Padme? When Anakin had been five he had tried to kiss a boy and been shoved into the mud for his efforts. That’s a fine place to begin, really. Just drag up all the old hurts. He sighs. “I went and got you a bigger ring.”

“And do you remember what you did when I told you that I couldn’t raise the children, but my parents wanted to?”

“I threatened to take them to court if they didn’t let me have them,” Anakin says. It hadn’t been his proudest moment, of course, but Padme’s parents had never really liked him. They still don’t.

Someone’s trying to talk to Padme on the other end of the line. “Yes, fine,” she snaps. “Anakin. Anakin, what I’m trying to say is I’ve never seen you give up on anything without at least trying to fight for it. And I don’t know why this should be different. You won’t be able to live with yourself if you have to watch him get back together with his ex-wife and know you never even tried to tell him he had other options.”

Anakin opens and closes his mouth, speechless. “Then what--”

“So go,” Padme cuts him off. “Go tell him he has other options! For fuck’s sake, yes, alright I’m getting off the phone. Anakin, when I land I expect to have a very detailed account of events waiting for me on my email. Goodbye.”

She hangs up. Anakin stares at the phone in his hand for a handful of seconds, thinking over what she’s said. What she’s implied.

She’s right, of course. Anakin never gives in this easily. He doesn’t fully understand why he’s so ready to capitulate now. Maybe he knows full-well he can’t compete with whatever Obi-Wan had with his ex-wife. They have history. They grew up together, became adults together. Anakin’s just this weird twenty-eight year old man with a pair of kids too old for his age who crashed at Obi-Wan’s house during the lowest moment of his life. Of maybe both of their lives.

Love can’t bloom from that. Not really. Not...not the sort of love that turns into a lifelong marriage.

But. Padme’s right. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he doesn’t try. If he doesn’t know for sure.

So either he could putter around the house all day waiting for Obi-Wan to text or call or come home, talking himself into and out of confessing every emotion he’s harbored for the man for the past two years, or….or he could drive to his campus and confront him in his office, put himself on the execution block and hand Obi-Wan the axe. At least it would be a quick death.

He glances at the digital clock on the oven. 9:38. The idea of waiting ten hours for a resolution makes his skin crawl.

And besides. 

Obi-Wan hadn’t packed a lunch.

[7wanderingpaws]

Always, yours (5) M

Word count: 6.4K

Warnings: language, kinky mature content, angst 

tags: @geniusloey​ (let me know if you want to be added!)

NOTE: if you want to skip the mature part, you can scroll until you see “💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘”

Masterlist / story masterlist

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“Are you sure?” Baekhyun whispered, and this time reached for the hem of your shirt to properly bring it up. “I will want this off, my little lady,” he told you, his breath hitting your lips. The way his fingers left feather-like touches on your skin made you shiver. And yes, you very much wanted the shirt off. No more hiding from him. “And I might want to visit down there, too,” he added when the shirt was now at your breasts, his hand revealing more skin.

With his last request, your breath hitched. He and you both knew it wasn’t the place you allowed him to see yet. He hadn’t seen you down there since pre-birth times. That’d been months. Because of your ugly scar, you couldn’t bear the idea of Baekhyun seeing the butchered up skin that was stitched together, leaving behind an ugly scar.

In Baekhyun’s mind though, it was a scar that he cherished and wanted to give it special attention. Without it, you would probably have a scar on your tummy. He believed the scar down there was the special proof of how strong of a woman you were; how much you fought to bring your beautiful children to this world.

God, sometimes he just had to be virtually slapped again and again; you risked your life for your offsprings. You, still so young, naturally brought triplets to this world and made Baekhyun the most blessed man. He was proud to have you as his wife; there was no way he would ever let another man let his words get into your head like it happened with Junho.

“So what do you say?” he purred and you automatically lifted yourself up so he could lift your shirt over your head, throwing it behind him casually, his eyes carefully looking for your eyes, even though it was dark. There was only a distant glint in them. “Will mummy let daddy see her?” he breathed as he inched closer, his hand coming to rest on your hips before he slid them upwards to tease the underside of your breasts.

You gasped, the feeling growing foreign over the time. You were nonstop exposed with your chest, the babies had bitten you, slapped you with their little hands but the touch of Baekhyun’s fingers on the sensitive skin was magical and something you didn’t know you desperately needed. While his index finger was under the breast, he let his thumb brush over the nipple and you gasped again, leaning closer to him.

“Baek-Baekhyun,” you stammered, as if gasping for air and trying hard not to close your eyes at the beautiful sensations.

“Just answer me,” he replied instead, “because oppa is getting a little impatient.” With that, he finally cupped your breast, his palm warm, testing the way your breast felt after birthing your munchkins. They were incredibly full and huge; he already knew that. But it was mind blowing how your nipples changed, their shape perky and sticking out; the fullness completely different with the way you were overproducing milk. He groaned and leaned in, his nose brushing yours. “Yes or no?”

You closed your eyes at the feel of his nose nuzzling yours, lulling you into a pleasurable slumber and, into complete submission to him. You licked your lips, unable to think straight when you gave him the green he’d been dying to hear for so long. “Okay, but don’t look,” you said, trying to burn him down with your warning gaze.

“It’s dark,” replied Baekhyun matter-of-factly and his hand that was on your chest was now on your shoulder, pushing you backwards to lie down. “I won’t look but I’ll definitely have a taste, sweetheart. I’ll have you my way tonight.”

You were already eager and very much aroused. “Take me the way you want,” you whispered and brought his face to yours, wanting to kiss and kiss and kiss. He hovered above you, always careful and making sure he was holding himself up properly before you opened your legs for him to rest his body, and he dipped his head, capturing your lower lip in a slow, sensual manner. With that he rolled his hips against yours like a Latin dancer, making you part from his lips to let out a moan. Both of you were so hormonal.

Baekhyun kissed your reactions away, pushing his tongue in to swirl around yours as he rolled his hips again. You were completely naked under him while he was in his sleepwear which you found unfair.

So, while reciprocating the passionate kiss, you took the hem of his black shirt, bringing it up and making him separate to take it off and toss it somewhere on the floor. Before you could get lost in another make out spree, you had him take off his shorts and underwear and you gasped when you spotted Baekhyun hard. He must have been horny for a while.

He murmured your name passionately but he stopped himself as he laid  back down hovering over you with lust lighting up his eyes. “You’re mine,” he murmured, diving for an open-mouthed kiss at once. His hand travelled down your sides, the pads of his fingers tickling you. You slid them down your hips and he made sure to caress your bum before he stopped by your thigh and under your knee, bringing it to his side. “I’d fuck you senseless right here and right now but we have to make sure mummy is ready, right?” he muttered against your lips, already breathing heavily.

Your head fell to the side with a moan when he trailed kisses to your jaw and neck, his wet lips leaving a small trail. With every eager touch of his, he had you falling apart under him. It was so endearing to you that even when you knew he was trying to get himself over the fight and wanted to take you roughly, he still made sure you were okay with it. “Then do it. You’re all big talk, oppa,” you teased with your eyes closed.

You felt Baekhyun’s little laugh, his hot breath fanning your pulse point. He made his way to your breasts and kissed around the outline, growling when he felt how full of milk they were. “If I bite, they’ll burst,” he told you in small astonishment, and despite the dirty talk, he was very gentle and made sure to only use lips on your nipples, knowing how much of a hard time the babies’ sucking was giving you.

Meanwhile you were already panting, almost in a dilemma, because you shouldn’t have been so aroused with Baekhyun paying attention to your breasts. You were breastfeeding after all. You felt him flick his tongue over the nipple, while his free hand massaged the back of your thigh. The movement made you roll your hips, just for you to feel his manhood on the inside of your thigh. There was a sudden splurge of wetness leaking out of you at the sensation and you moaned, making Baekhyun smirk in satisfaction.

After kissing your breasts and welcoming them back into his life, he slowly made his way south, his open mouth hovering over your skin, over the stretch marks that he licked at, as if his moisture would heal the stretched out skin.

And then, finally, the place you wanted him the most but was scared senseless. His own panting was growing with each second and when it hit your wet opening, you let out an airy moan.

“Jesus,” Baekhyun whispered at the sound and experimentally brought his fingers to your lower lips, index and ring finger spreading them apart.

“Don’t look,” you managed to say, your chest going up and down erratically. Baekhyun looked up at you, barely seeing you over your huge breasts but you quickly propped yourself up on your elbows, the sight of your husband between your thighs giving you shivers. His cheeks were flushed and he kept licking his lips with his tongue. “Don’t,” you added when his eyes travelled downwards.

“It’s okay, baby,” he told you softly and tapped your bundle of nerves a couple of times, making you fall back on your back. “Oppa wants to cherish you,” he told you, “and he won’t do anything bad.”

“Don’t look, though,” you pleaded when his fingers, still on your womanhood, started to draw circles and he dipped his head, diving for a lick.

Baekhyun didn’t listen to you. He looked and strained his eyes as he could to make out the way your skin was stitched up, and he did spot the pink, tender skin. He was fast to kiss on the length of it, leading from the inside of your thigh to your center. It was still shocking; when he first touched it he was shocked and now, somehow seeing it in the darkness and feeling it with his soft lips, it was all too real and yet hard to process. How much pain it must have brought to you. Just the thought of having his own scar down there made him shiver and he was quick to kiss and mouth and nibble at the skin, making you squirm on the top of the bed sheets.

“Oppa,” you groaned when you felt him lick up your lips, collecting all the arousal with a huge lick, his tongue creating a small cup before he slurped and swallowed your essence.

At the nickname, Baekhyun felt his inner man break free, the sudden need to take care of you and ruin you at the same time eating him up and making him go blind to your pleas.

He hooked his arms around your upper thighs and abruptly yanked you closer to him, making you yelp in surprise. His face was buried in the middle, his tongue licking your lips before poking you in your opening teasingly, roughly pressing it in before moving his flat tongue up and over your sensitive nerves.

You were sighing in pleasure, the sounds in the room coming out obscene and scandalous when Baekhyun wouldn’t give you a break, eating you out like a hungry man. Your hands were buried in his hair, the soft strands strongly contrasting to the way he was licking you up clean. He didn’t stop and he pushed two fingers in, another one of your moans falling on his ears, making his own manhood twitch with need and want.

He made sure to give you a proper first orgasm, his experienced tongue bringing you into a paradise that only consisted of him. His teasing fingers, aggressive mouth and tongue; the combination was deadly and you couldn’t wait to have him inside like you’d been imagining the whole day.

“Babe, I want you,” you mumbled distractedly when your mind cleared up. Baekhyun was kissing your chest softly, his hair tickling your chin while his hand was resting against your hip, his thumb caressing you.

“Hmm?”

Instead of replying, your hand found his erected manhood and you wrapped your hand around his length, making Baekhyun gasp into your collarbone. “Oh fuck, how is it that you have such small hands but you can do this to me,” he groaned when you pumped him, enjoying Baekhyun’s reactions.

“I want you in me. Oppa.”

The magic word did wonders and you knew it; hence you used it. Baekhyun smirked when he looked up at you. “Oppa will take care of you,” he mumbled as his lips inched to your parted mouth, kissing you softly. You could still taste yourself on his tongue. He positioned himself at your center, your hand leading him inside of you. You let out a quiet moan when you felt him there, pushing in through your slick opening that greedily swallowed him up.

“Heaven,” breathed Baekhyun as he closed his eyes and boldly bucked his hips, sliding almost all of him in.

You hissed, throwing your head back at the pleasurable yet painful stretch.

“You good?” he was quick to check, worry lacing his eyebrows.

You opened your eyes to meet his steady ones. “Yeah. Just stay like this for a little bit.”

“Of course, my angel.”  He trailed his nose around your face, nudging the side of your nose with his like a puppy and effectively making you giggle. He was staring into your eyes the whole time, honesty, loyalty - all of them spotable in his black orbs.

You managed to smile even wider when you felt confident enough and you shimmied under him, prompting him to move. Baekhyun made a slow roll of his hips, almost lazily, which contrasted with the way he was looking at you; like he wanted to eat you up.

The mind-blowing friction he was causing made you arch your back, your one hand buried in his hair and the other one scratching his back in desire.

“Yes! Go on, go on.” He was hitting your special spot. “Faster, Baekhyun.”

He snapped his hips right away, making you scream out his name. He set up a relentless pace that you hadn’t done in bed for a long while. His hips were hammering you into the mattress, the bed almost moving along with you. To make it even a more pleasurable experience, he kneeled between your legs, his hands on your hips as he lifted your bum gently before he thrusted short, fast and hard.

The sweat on your chest glistened in the dark room as you arched your back while Baekhyun snapped his hips, bringing a deep moan out of you. “That’s right, my baby girl,” he growled, enjoying the view of your naked body splayed in front of him. “I’m going to put another baby in you, hm?” 

Baekhyun was unstoppable as he kept riding you up the bed sheets, his head tilted backwards while his hips rolled sensually along with yours. With that, he was fast to bury himself deep, and he climbed back over you, the tip of his nose touching yours. “I’m going to make you have my baby again,” he repeated in such a raw way, his intense, dark eyes staring into your soul so desperately that you swore you would combust.

“Yes,” you panted airily, attempting to move your hips, urging him on as you needed to chase your release but Baekhyun kissed you, bringing your attention to his soft, but very much biting mouth. His words ignited a want in you; the fantasies he was bringing alive were making you quiver inside, your entire being a ball of electricity with his every word powered with his thrusts.

He let go with a smooch and moved downwards to your breasts as he started to move again, though his strokes were very short and snappy. You felt the pressure in your breasts and you knew you’d be leaking soon.

“Wanna try?” you asked him as he kept exhaling shallowly. “Wanna try the babies’ milk?” You brought your hand up to his nape as Baekhyun looked at you, a little shocked.

It was all so comical as he was riding you like a rabbit, and now he was all frozen with puppy eyes. “You want me to suck on your breasts, my little lady?” he rasped, his face moving closer to yours. He once again  stopped thrusting, making you feel so incredibly stretched and full. He traced the tip of his nose over your red cheek, letting his open mouth hover over the skin, sometimes licking and kissing it. “Daddy will try mummy’s milk, hm?”

“Yeah, try, oppa.”

Baekhyun was observing you, his own sweat collecting around his hair line and he’d never looked more sexy.

He brought his face to one of your breasts and you closed your eyes when he gently took one nipple in, your hand automatically flying to his hair to scratch and comb your fingers through it, egging him on. It seemed that Baekhyun himself was a little unsure, never having done anything like that before with you.

He tried to suck a few times, still buried deeply in you when he started to suck harshly, successfully bringing out milk and with it a hum vibrated through his chest, sending pleasurable waves down your body.

You sighed, and your arching back just got Baekhyun’s mouth to grow eager, his tongue lapping on the tip of your nipple to catch every drop. “That’s right, baby daddy,” you sighed, using his words. It was shameless but you were extremely aroused. You needed Baekhyun to move, the way he was motionless yet still bringing so many sensations to your body was driving you crazy. You attempted to roll your hips again, and Baekhyun was quick to detach himself.

Without warning, his mouth was on yours and he forced your lips apart, transferring your milk into your cavern. The taste of the liquid hit you, some of it escaping down your chin messily.

“Swallow, my little lady,” ordered Baekhyun strictly, distracted at the sight of the milk leaking the side of your mouth. He kissed your jaw as you did so, but there was no time to talk about the peculiar taste as Baekhyun pulled out of you completely before slamming back in, making you scream out wantonly in pleasure when you felt his tip at your cervix. “Baby daddy, is it?” he panted into your open mouth. “Your new little kink, my love?”

Upon hearing the teasing in his voice, you smiled in bliss as the familiar pressure gradually built up in the pit of your stomach. “Baby daddy making me feel so good,” you exhaled loudly and chased his lips, messily making out with him.

He grunted, not focusing on your lip-locking instead wanting to chase his and yours highs as he sped up sloppily, strokes short. “You’re mine,” he gasped when he felt your walls closing around him. “Fuck, you’re oppa’s and only oppa’s. C’mon, scream my name.” He scrunched his eyes shut and you did as he said, incredibly sensitive when he kept riding wildly until his warm seed was filling you up to the brim.

His thrusts slowed down for a second, just for him having to speed up a bit, as more and more release leaked into your greedy womanhood. “I'm coming so good,” he said, biting his lower lip and pressing his forehead to yours. You were whining from oversensitivity but he didn’t stop. “Be louder. Let everyone know who is making you feel good.”

“Ah,” you threw your head back and arched your back, soon another orgasm making you see stars. You hugged Baekhyun to your body although you were running on your last bits of energy. “Baekhyun.”

“Yes,” he hummed and slowly came to a stop, his cum leaking out of you and onto the bed sheets while he kept himself warm inside of you. “I’m so putting another baby in there,” he whispered into your ear seductively. “Making mummy’s tummy swell with oppa’s child again.” To prove his point his hand caressed your stomach that managed to shrink over the weeks.

“I love you, Baekhyun oppa,” you murmured, opening your eyes to see him staring right back at you. “I love you so much.”

Baekhyun’s swollen lips stretched into a smile. “I love you more,” he whispered endearingly, his eyes softening. “But I’m not done just yet,” he told you and you were just about to groan when he snaked an arm under your sweaty back and rolled the both of you over, making you squeal and laugh. He was grinning when he appeared under you and you were on top now, slowly sitting up. Your hands were on his chest, the strong pectorals perfectly outlined thanks to the perspiration. Shit, you thought to yourself, you were one lucky woman. Baekhyun was a gorgeous man and a father, and jealousy might have made him hotter.

“You’re gonna ride oppa,” he told you as he tapped your hip gently. “Hm? Doesn’t it feel nice to have oppa snuggled all the way up there?” he purred and sat up so that his chest was pressed to your breasts. Since he only took a little from your milk, you knew you would be in trouble if Baekhyun kept you in bed any longer. Everything would be stained. “My breasts are starting to ache, honey,” you told him somehow light-headedly because of his words and because he was still deep inside you. “I don’t think-“

“Oppa will take care of the problem,” he murmured as you felt his hands massaging your sides in a sensual manner. “So all you’ve got to do is work those hips for me, sweetheart.”

You squirmed on his lap and the both of you hissed in unison. Your heartbeat, barely recovered, sped up right away when Baekhyun captured your lips in a head-spinning, romantic kiss while he moved under you, creating small circles with his hips. 

“Jesus, what are you doing to me tonight,” you whispered, so drunk in love with him, you could barely notice the glint in his eyes.

“I’m doing you.” He paused. “You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he whispered eventually, one hand trailing upwards to grab your sensitive, round mound. “Of course you’d make any male want to chase after you.” It seemed that he was talking to himself more than he was talking to you. If it weren’t for his distracting ministrations, you would have talked back, but all you could do was tilt your head backwards, exposing your neck to his mouth. “Too bad for all of those salivating bastards. You’re mine. I’ve already put three babies in you.” He suddenly placed his other hand on the nape of your neck and pushed it ahead making you look at him. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, baby,” he said in an insisting manner and you could feel the heaviness of his words while you tried hard not to get aroused by them.

“I’m only yours, Baekhyun,” you reassured him as you circled your arms around his neck. To prove a point, you finally gained enough strength and lifted yourself up and let yourself sink down his length, his hardening member at your attention at once.

Baekhyun groaned in ecstasy, his teeth sunk into his lower lip. “Jesus, you should be illegal.”

And just like that, the baby cries coming in through the monitor interrupted the steamy love-making. Baekhyun groaned as you froze on top of him, panting into his face. You looked like you were contemplating about what to do next but Baekhyun made the decision for you. His grip on your hips tightened. “You’re not going until I’m done with you.” At his tone and words, you felt the thrill curse through your center. “How can you feed when oppa had most of it?” he pouted at you and for a second you were in complete disbelief at the way he changed his expressions. He was a rough tiger, deaf to your sensitive body and now he was a worried father but in a very wrong, dirty way.

“You’ve gone crazy,” you told him with a bewitched smile. Neither of you wanted to leave the bed; the cycle of having to take care of the triplets tiring you ever since they were born. But both of you were responsible parents and-

“Gone crazy for you,” he hummed and pushed you up on his lap before helping you sit down again, creating a delicious friction. Both of you moaned, successfully blocking out the baby cries. You pressed your chest to Baekhyun’s and he tilted his head upwards, always chasing your lips which were swollen, almost bruised by now.

Since the cries would only intensify, you sped up, challenging yourself. You weren’t working out so you might as well use this precious time to make your body move.

“We shouldn’t always come running when they cry, sweetheart,” Baekhyun told you in a low murmur when you sank down again, his droopy eyes watching the way your full mounds moved up and down, entranced. “They will get used to it and it’s not good. They don’t always need us.”

You breathed airily closing your eyes in concentration, his words only barely registering in your brain. The muscles in your thighs were screaming, burning up from exhaustion, let alone the tremble in them was very much obvious and you would have been embarrassed back in the days but not anymore. Your husband massaged your hips, helping you out with repetitive motions but they slid to your thighs for a bit before they landed on your butt cheeks, squeezing and touching up at very sensitive areas. “What about you, hm? Don’t I come running to you when you need me?”

Baekhyun smirked, sweat collecting around his forehead as he started to mouth at your breasts, preparing to suck. “But you’re oppa’s baby girl. Of course you come to me and I come to you when we need each other.”

You groaned when you felt his fingers massaging your womanhood, your ears falling deaf on any other noises besides the slick sounds of your connected parts and Baekhyun’s sucking. The room was so hot, you were a ball of fire ready to explode with the loudest moan yet.

“C’mon, one last time,” urged Baekhyun with gritted teeth after he swallowed as he let his head fall backwards, his mouth open wide, eyebrows scrunched when he felt himself releasing into you, once again coming before you. Your high-pitched moan managed to bring him back from his dizziness. You fell on top of him which prompted Baekhyun into falling completely on his back, both of you heaving loudly. The heat from both of your bodies collected and made your entire being flush with heat. Your body was almost spasming at the overwhelming orgasm and you didn't know if you could recover fast enough.

💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘

“Oh god, I love you,” whispered Baekhyun into your ear and over the noises of the crying that gradually became clearer in your hazy mind. “Goodness, I love you so much.”

Your heart, beating crazily, still managed to make one particularly painful jump at the way he said the words. “I love you too.” You kissed his chest and you felt his fingers in your hair, combing through the messy strands gently. “You’re my everything.”

He smiled to himself, closing his eyes. Sleep was chasing him down and so did you, but the more you ignored your munchkins the heavier their cries were becoming. As much as you wished to stay in bed and cuddle and sleep, it was not an option.

Still running high on adrenaline, you separated from Baekhyun’s clingy arms, slipped back into your panties and Baekhyun’s shirt before rushing to the babies’ room to calm down the circus. 

Baekhyun was still breathing heavily, lying in bed on his back and not wanting to face the responsibility of being a parent. But he wouldn't let you deal with it by yourself and so he was swift to join you. He was a man, but he wasn’t ashamed to admit to himself he missed your presence after he so passionately made love to you just minutes ago. If it meant dealing with crying babies, his and yours, then so be it.

You were shushing Jun quietly, preparing to change his nappy, when Baekhyun appeared, his black pants on and a hoodie that he didn’t bother zipping up, revealing his chest and stomach.

You tried hard not to pay attention. It was ridiculous as you’d already been through rounds of pleasuring, yet his sexy aura as he stepped into the room and went to take crying Juna out of her crib made you all hot and bothered again. The way the baby looked tiny in his arms and on his chest, the way his cheeks were flushed red and he was still most probably sweaty from the actions you’d done were making you dizzy.

“There, there, sweetie,” he hummed in a cooing voice he saved for his babies. “Daddy’s here.”

You bit your lip as you smiled, expertly cleaning up Jun before securing the new nappy around his belly. You felt Baekhyun’s presence behind you, Juna’s cries not ceasing. 

“Okay, okay, sorry. Mummy and me ignored you for a little bit, we’re sorry,” he begged in a childish, regretful tone and you giggled as you turned with Jun in your arms. Baekhyun looked at you with a boyish grin, quickly turning into a smirk when he saw Jun’s hungry mouth digging into your chest, seeking milk.

“Baby exchange,” you announced over the loud cries, ignoring his pervy smile as the both of you handed one another the baby you were holding. Just like with Jun, you were fast to change Juna’s nappy. “It’s okay, it’s okay. We will eat in a bit, hm?” you murmured, though Juna seemed to be relentless in her cries, obviously not forgiving you for not coming running to her right away.

You wondered; had you come earlier would she be crying as much. She was red in her face and thrashing around, making it hard for you to fasten the nappy. “We’re never ignoring them again,” you spoke up in determination once you were done and looked at Baekhyun who had now Junhee in his arms, too.

“Let me change her and you can start feeding,” he told you instead as, once again, you had a baby exchange. Both of you were trying not to get annoyed at the relentless cries, one baby louder than the other. It was quickly taking away the excitement that was flowing in your blood, instead the frustration sucking all the delightful emotions out of you.

You sat down in the corner with two hungry mouths while you watched Baekhyun change the nappy of the last triplet. Thanks to Baekhyun’s prior ministrations, you were sensitive when you let the babies suck on your milk, their small hands caressing your mound absentmindedly with their tiny, chubby hands.

The room became silent almost right away and you let out a sigh of relief.

“You’re okay, sweetheart?” asked Baekhyun once he was done. He was hovering in the doorway, going for the milk stored in the freezer so he could feed Junhee. He looked so hot; he had to stop. With the babies’ aggressive mouths and Baekhyun’s chest and stomach peeking out in between the hoodie’s slit, you had a hard time not getting turned on all over again and it made you incredibly embarrassed.

“Yeah,” you breathed, nipping on your lower lip. “I’m great.”

Baekhyun smiled knowingly, a cheeky glint ever so present in his eyes. Once he was back with the heated up milk and tired Junhee feeding, he rested against the chair and poked your calf with his toe. “Isn’t it exciting though?” he murmured quietly, not to disturb the half-asleep triplets.

You frowned in question.

He licked his lips as he looked at your chest and then up to your eyes. “Sex while they’re crying.”

Gasping, you pushed him with your foot, making Baekhyun cackle. “That is scandalous!” you exclaimed as quietly as you could.

“But you did it. And you loved it.”

“No!”

“Oh, you were so turned on,” he insisted.

“Baekhyun!”

“You mean baby daddy?” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows at you, very much enjoying your suffering.

Scrunching your eyes shut, you groaned, wanting the earth to swallow you up. “C’mon, oppa, no teasing.”

“Can you blame me? You were so hot. I think this is my most favorite thing now.”

You sighed, knowing he wouldn’t be letting this go for a very long time. 

“You loved it, admit it,” he said lowly as he leaned towards you carefully, not wanting Junhee to wake up or irk her more.

You shook your head gently as you reciprocated his eye contact. “Yeah, I loved it very much” you muttered, letting out a small breath when one of the babies bit on your nipple. “Your mouth is so much nicer.”

Baekhyun snorted out a laugh and faked a gasp. “So scandalous!”

“Baekhyun!”

“Okay, I’ll stop.”

“No, you won’t.”

“No, I won’t.”

You groaned again, giving another reason for Baekhyun to burst out into a fit of giggles. “You’re terrible. You owe me a cuddle.”

“Well, I’m terrible so I guess I’m not cuddling you.”

You couldn’t help the smile that was growing on your face. This banter was reminding you of the older days when Baekhyun was pursuing you and you were so high on excitement and crush on him, every minute and every laugh with him could send you tumbling onto cloud nine, the softest yet most delightful dream. Surely, now those butterflies weren’t as intense, instead morphing into something much more deeper, but he could still make you laugh like that high school girl you once were. Baekhyun was an extreme flirt and you could barely say two words without stuttering in his presence. And now, here you were: casually bantering, with your three beautiful babies.

“You’re terrible but not that terrible,” you poked out your tongue at him and it instantly caught his eager gaze.

He hummed, observing you with affection. “You’re right. And I could never refuse my princess.”

<3

One week later, Baekhyun arrived home with good news. And bad news. 

He was excited even though his features were tired. You were on the couch, going through some job applications on your phone when he stormed into the apartment with a tad too much enthusiasm for the late evening hour.

“Babe,” he grinned widely as he dropped his bag and cardigan on the couch, leaving him in only his fit white shirt. “I have something to tell you!”

You watched him with sparkly eyes as he sat down next to you, his hand landing on your thigh. “First comes a kiss though,” you reminded him with an index finger in the air.

Without a warning, he gave you a loud smooch, making you smile into the kiss. “My graduation is in a couple of weeks! You and the babies have to come!”

You gasped excitedly, clapping once. “Great! I was waiting for the big ceremony! But...” you trailed off carefully, not wanting to spoil the mood. “I'm not sure if the munchkins should come. How will I manage them alone in the crowd?”

It wasn't like you weren't with them 24/7 but at a ceremony where you had to keep them quiet, the idea scared you.

“Our mums will come,” replied promptly Baekhyun, waving his hand as if it were no problem. “I already texted my mum, hopefully she and dad will come.” He was looking around the living room with calculating eyes. “We can accommodate your father, too. Four people can easily fit in here.”

You looked around, trying to see what he was seeing. So far, only your mothers were over for a bit to see the little ones, and to give you and Baekhyun some space that you barely got after giving birth. If it were up to you, you'd have your mother by your side all the time. She was a huge help and her experience was needed; although she didn't know as much about triplets, each of her rules applied to every baby and it always worked.

“Alright,” you nodded, “I agree. I hope all of them will come.”

Baekhyun looked at you with a gentle smile. “It would be nice to celebrate a little with our families and not in the countryside.”

He was right. Both of you missed your parents, albeit you much more. Being left alone most of the days, you craved a loved one's presence and even though you talked a lot with your mother, she and your father were busy with farming. No work, no food was what they always said. Baekhyun's parents were no different and you were in close contact with Baekhyun's mother as she was always curious about the babies, but Baekhyun himself would barely notice this as he was busy with work. 

“And one more piece of news I have to tell you,” he said, but his tone had a slight change to it. He licked his lips before saying: “I'll have a trip to Japan with the hapkido team,” he told you. “The school pays for it and it would be my first official trip as their master and professor.”

You blinked a few times, surprised. “Oh, really? That's great! For how long, babe?”

“One week.”

“One week?” you repeated, your tone higher.

Baekhyun smiled sheepishly, scooting closer to you. “Just one week I’ll be away.”

You were staring at his puppy eyes; it almost seemed like he was asking for permission, but of course it wasn't up to you. Both of you knew it would be best for Baekhyun to go because he needed to make good connections, a lasting impression as a new and very much young professor. You just didn't know he would have to leave for a business trip so early on. If you tried to imagine, you couldn't recall the time you spent so long without him by your side and it would definitely be the first time without him since you became parents.

“Alright,” you murmured, uncertainly, “and when?”

“In September,” he told you, “at the beginning of the semester.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

You opened your mouth to say something more, but you could only nodd.

“Sweetheart, do you think you'll be alright?” Baekhyun asked softly, his eyes seeking yours eagerly. “Because I know this would be the first time me leaving you for this long but-”

“Pff, what nonsense. Of course I'll be alright.”

He bit his lip, trying to look through you. “Sukyeong could come over and you girls could have some girls time, hm?”

You scoffed but lightheartedly. “Baekhyun, I'm not some kid that needs her best friend to be over whenever you're away. We are married and she is also in a serious relationship. Plus, there are the babies-”

“Exactly because of the babies.”

You sighed, your shoulders dropping in exasperation. It wasnt Sukyeong's job to be the second parent when the other one was not available. But you kept this to yourself, not wanting to hurt Baekhyun's feelings and definitely not wanting a fight. “I'll be just fine. You make sure you do well.”

“I always make sure I do well.”

You gave him a close-lipped smile as you reached out with your hand to caress his cheek. “I know you do,” you muttered and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “But first - your graduation!”

Even though your exclamation was enthusiastic, you couldn't help the little fallen feeling growing in your chest.

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

A/N: A long, steamy udpdate with an angsty ending. Hope you enjoyed it. After the next chapter, the time skips will be more frequent and triplets' characters will finally grow! ^^ Please let me know what you are thinking?❤💕🤗