#and I can't wait until the pristine cut

[mercuriallily]

I have 80 hours played of Slay the Princess and all 97 achievements how am I STILL finding new stuff

[gothamite-rambler]

Microfiction Series "Weird Questions from a Weird City: Batfamily Edition

Duke Thomas: Okay, we're in a zombie apocalypse-

Damian Wayne: Don't worry, Jason would shoot us if we got bitten.

Duke: That's not - even for a cure?

Jason (shrugging): Depends on how far we are from it.

Duke: Okay, I kind of understand that. Not what I was going to ask. My question is if in a zombie apocalypse there's a scarce amount of food, but then we find one dude who says "I have a bunch of food!" It's nothing but meat and it's clearly not meat from any type of farm animal... what would you do?

Jason: It's confirmed it's human meat?

Duke: Yeah, you find him cutting up a body one day, but he's like "You're cool. If you help me out I help you out."

Dick: He can season and cook the meat well?

Duke: Yup and he has recipes. Y'all can make a little gumbo on the weekends, maybe a couple burgers on Monday, do whatever you want.

Dick: Oh... Yeah I'd eat some of the human meat.

Jason: Agreed.

Tim: I would wait until I starve and then right when I can't take no more... Yeah I'd eat my former classmate if they were packaged and ready to consume.

Jason and Dick: Agreed.

Everyone turns to a horrified Damian.

Damian: I couldn't.

Duke: You kind of have to. The crops are dying and the virus makes it difficult to eat plants.

Damian: You can't fucking do that!

Bruce: Language.

Damian: No, fuck that, he added that last part in.

Duke: Okay, well who's taking care of any vegetation, farms, fruits? Doubt there'd be a farmers market during the zombie apocalypse. What you expecting zombie farmers?

Damian: It can still rain and stuff.

Dick (countering): There's no guarantee that'll help for long.

Jason: And I imagine with the infestation of zombie bodies it would affect the ecosystem eventually.

Bruce: What the hell?

Jason: I think about this a lot we live in a very weird world.

Damian: I'll start my own vegetable farm!

Duke (scoff): You're going to start your own farm, keep it in pristine condition, just so you can avoid eating your friend, Jeffrey?!

Damian: Yes! And I will have fruits as well!

Tim: You're a vegetarian, wouldn't it be a pass if they're human meat?

Damian: No, father back me up here!

Bruce: I mean if the circumstances presented themself and there was no other food to eat... Maybe. Maybe not.

Damian: He didn't say he would!

Jason: He didn't say he wouldn't either.

Damian: You all suck! And I'd blast all of you in the head with a single bullet!

Damian storms off. Duke chuckles, his trolling accomplished.

Duke: Stephanie helped me come up with this idea.

Tim: She would do that too.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

what if engel is a virgin but insanely boy crazy 👁👄👁 and she will/can never not be

Hoooo boy!

NSFW below the cut

So, um. Reader never told König if she's experienced or not (if she was a virgin then my thoughts and prayers are with her.) Part of König's hostility in the crazy mating scene comes from his belief that Engel is not a virgin. He is extremely jealous of everyone reader might've had before him, so he guides his frustration to heated, possessive sex, stripping her with a knife, and so on.

But if we imagine you told him it's your first time, then things would go slightly differently. König would be much more delicate with you!

And good God… He would be even more enamored. You're kind, you're sweet, you're innocent and you're a virgin too?

König can’t believe his luck. You're just perfect. He can’t stand the thought of you with other men so finding out you're in fact untouched is only a blessing. König wants to be the only one who makes you scream and sigh. And what an ultimate fantasy: he gets to corrupt a pure, pristine virgin (of course König would never put it this way. He's simply introducing you to pleasure. Nothing wrong with that, right? He has good intentions! He's the best choice if you wish to feel good, ja ❤️)

So, König tries to keep his cool as he asks if this is what you truly want (yes? please say yes) and if this is the right time (this is as good a time as any, you just need to trust him!), is he truly the man you want to give yourself to? (tell him he’s the one, you will not regret it.)

He tries to be a gentleman and at the same time can't keep his hands off you. Hands steal their way under your clothes as he tries to persuade you by whispering things like: "I will be good to you, there’s no need to be afraid. I will be gentle, I promise��" But it’s difficult to believe anything he says because his hands are trembling, the whole man is trembling and throbbing and panting already.

If and when you're willing to have sex, König will take you in a classic missionary. No pounding from behind, no crazy unhinged mating press. And he prepares you first! With his tongue, perhaps pulls out an orgasm or two so that you will be relaxed and ready for him. It’s very likely that König pumps himself through an orgasm too while pleasing you with his mouth because he’s waited so long for this moment. Your taste and the sounds you make as he licks you to ruin are far too much. He will erupt in mere minutes and then be hard again in no time for the main event.

König tries so, so hard to control the urge to just plow you until your eyes roll in your head. He tries his best not to simply pound himself straight into oblivion. He wanted you before, sure, but now his want is doubled. Tripled. He fears he will hurt you and basically shakes from the effort to restrain himself as he finally enters you.

He goes a little over the top with the praise, too... You feel so good, nothing has ever felt better, you're such a good girl when you said yes, Lieber Gott you look cute like this, he knew you were made for him, etc. And he wants to know that you feel good. Not just to check if you're ok, but to hear how he makes you feel. Does he give you pleasure? Do you like it when he does it slowly? He can be more rough if you want. How does it feel to have a man inside you for the first time?

He's sweating from love and frustration, the hunger becomes all-consuming as he approaches his peak, and you get to see a sliver of who this man truly is underneath all that fake composure. As sad as it sounds, there's a chance he is so lost in you that he cums before you. He just can't help it. But he will make sure you get all the pleasure you need before the night is through and be extra attentive with the aftercare ❤️ (Also he would definitely be one of those guys who check if there's blood after you did it because he thinks it's a given that there is)

[contentloadingandstuff]

Happy Birthday, Kujou Sara! - Kujou Sara x Male!Reader

AN: Happy birthday to our favorite bird general! Enjoy your little fluffy gift.

You pull on the string, stirring the doorbell to ring out. As you wait for her attendant to open the door, you quickly adjust your wear. Kujou Sara, even if she was your friend, didn't deserve to be treated with anything but your absolute best. Even if the evening was rather stuffy, you chose to prepare your more formal outfit - a blend of dō and hakama, perfect for both official business and casual meetings. 

After a moment, the wooden gate is opened and one of Sara's maids greets you with a polite bow. She motions towards the garden where, just a few steps from her, the Tengu stands. She's wearing clothes one would rarely see adorning her body - a modest kimono, decorated only with the sash and her mask. The smile on her lips is as uncommon as her attire. 

“Hello! I’m glad you're here.” She speaks, approaching you. “Thank you for coming.”

You meet her halfway. “It's good to see you too, Sara.”

You bow slightly, Sara returning your gesture. Your eyes meet for a moment. Her golden pupils gleam in the red light of the setting sun. You smile. Sara’s lips shift as well, but her demeanor turns a little sheepish as she averts her eyes. 

You can't help but think the slight red tint on her cheeks might not be makeup. 

Observing the situation, the maid steps in, bowing cordially. “May we invite you inside for a meal, my Lord?”

Sara shakes her head, suddenly brought back to reality. “Of c-course. Please, Y/N, come inside. I've prepared something for the occasion.”

You nod eagerly. “I can't wait to sample your cooking.”

The maid leads you through the gardens and into the guest room where a small table awaits you. You hand over your katana and equipment, taking a place on the mat opposite Sara. 

The table is full of various snacks. Crisp and plump Lavender Melons and Sunsettia, cut into sizable slices, shine at you invitingly, perfectly complimenting a wide variety of juicy maki rolls and golden brown tempura. Before you can even reach for one with your chopsticks two bowls of steaming ramen are brought to the table. The thick, soft noodles float peacefully inside the broth, the clouds upon which rests a soft boiled egg accompanied with various greens and a few pieces of ham. The sight of the vibrant yolk lazily streaming down into the soup, let alone the scent of the whole meal, hypnotizes you. 

Ironically, it would be a shame to eat such an inviting meal. If it wasn't so delightful, that is. The room fills with quiet, but still enthusiastic clicking of chopsticks as both of you tear into portions. Sara glances at you hopefully from time to time, gauging your reactions. You make sure to nod appreciatively. It takes what feels like mere moments until, amongst comfortable silence, the soup is eaten. 

Wiping the remnants of it from your mouth with a tissue, you sigh with satisfaction. The dish was possibly the best thing for this weather, even if the air was so humid. But now that you've eaten, it was time to give Sara something special. 

“Thank you for your hospitality, Sara.” You say, reaching your hand inside your sleeve where you hid the gift. 

“Don't mention it, please. It's the least I can do to thank you for coming. I'm sure I've distracted you from important matters...” She drifts off when she notices the small, ornamental box in your hand. “What’s that?”

You chuckle. “It is for you, silly. It's your birthday. Surely you didn't expect me to come empty handed?”

“Oh! I…” Her hands move up, covering her mouth in surprise. “T-thank you. I hope the gift wasn't too much trouble…” 

She takes the gift from your outstretched hands and begins quickly unfastening the ribbons. When her fingers lift the lid, a set of jars is revealed. Curious, she picks one up and starts examining the label. 

Seeing her confusion, you chime in. 

“This is, um… that's coconut oil, for your wings. So they remain as pristine as ever.” 

Sara looks up at you, slightly wide eyed. Her silence speeds up your heart. Was this a bad idea? Does she already have some? Did you just offend her? 

You feel blood rushing to your cheeks. 

“I've talked to a scientist from Sumeru some time ago. He told me a lot about the birds of paradise in Sumeru and how they are taken care of in captivity”, you explain hastily. “To keep their wings shining and vibrant, their caretakers use coconut oil to lubricate the feathers. He said that it's better than sesame oil as it helps protect against illnesses and insects. So… I thought of you.” You wave your hands, smiling shyly. “You don't have to accept it if you don't like it though!”

As she listens to you, her mouth opens slightly as if she wants to speak, but closes without a word. She's speechless. 

You sigh as your smile fades. Just as you think of how to apologize, Sara speaks out. 

“This is incredible. I don't have the words to express how… How happy I am.”

Her voice is quiet and slightly trembling with emotion. The Tengu quickly looks back towards you, a small blush on her face. “Nobody has given me such a thoughtful gift before…”

A stone’s weight is taken off your heart as you see her flustered expression. A genuine smile of happiness and relief creeps onto your features. 

After a while of cordial thanks, you finally convince Sara that it wasn't too difficult to get, even if you had to import it from Sumeru. Having received this gift, Sara's mood was only improving as the evening went by, filled with idle chatter. You've shared stories of other generals, funny encounters you've had, as well as more genuine hopes for the future. 

The night came long ago, and it was time to go home. Sara, although clearly tired, insisted on walking you at least to the estate doors. But as you were walking through the garden, unbeknownst to you, Sara discreetly dismissed the maid following you. She quietly disappeared behind the nearest corner, leaving you two alone. 

You pull the door, opening one of its wings enough to slip through. Your turn to Sara. 

“Thanks for inviting me. They say you're stiff, but they don't know just how enjoyable hanging out with you really is.”

Sara shakes her head. “No, no, I’m the one that's more thankful here. I couldn't even begin to imagine what this day would look like without you. Had you not come, it would simply be another lonely evening.”

“Signing yourself off to the grave already, Sara?” You chuckle. “I hope next year's celebration is even better than this one.”

She snickers as well. “Impossible. Nothing will best today.”

“I surely hope not!” Your turn back towards the door. “See you tomorrow-”

“Wait!” Sara says hastily, grabbing your sleeve. You stop dead in your tracks. 

“Yes, Sara?”

“I know it might be inappropriate of me, seeing as you've given me so much already…” Her eyes shift between the pavement and you. “But, if I may have one more wish to ask of you.”

“Of course. It's your day, after all.” 

Silence. 

“So what would you like me to-”

She steps up and embraces you. You let out a surprised sigh, but quickly welcome her gesture. Her arms wrap around your torso as her face buries in the crook of your neck. 

“Thank you”, she whispers. “Thank you so much.”

Thanks for reading!

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One

Summary : After you treat him in the ER, Officer Tom Ludlow asks you out. You turn him down, thinking you know his type, but he’s not willing to take no for an answer. In fact, you find out he’s more than willing to abuse his authority in his pursuit of you. Maybe Ludlow seems like an asshole, but when you are drawn into a dangerous conspiracy that could go all the way to the top of the LAPD, he might be the only thing that stands between you and a shallow grave.

TW : Abuse of authority, alpha male, sexual harassment, the word “no” is not in this man’s vocabulary

The ER is overflowing tonight. There was a huge drug bust down on South Hampton Avenue that ended in a fire and gunfight: turned out to be a big enough debacle that they had to call a code black throughout the hospital, which basically means, at least for you, no breaks or time between patients. In times like this, charting even takes a back burner thanks to a hospital policy where everything you learned in nursing school flies out the window and you don’t have to document what you’re doing. 

It’s a good thing, because you don’t have time to log onto a computer let alone write something down with pen and paper. Burn victims, gunshots, every bed full, people boarding in the waiting room and hallways with broken limbs and makeshift pressure dressings on bullet holes and stab wounds.

The once chemical, pristine floor and walls now look like something from a SAW movie, and you’re not much better off. Bloody, dirt caked scrubs, exhausted, sweat stains. You’ve probably done more chest compressing tonight than you have in your entire career leading up. And you’ve seen more people die tonight… well, more than you’d like.

You wipe some tears off your cheeks, pretending it’s sweat, before walking into the lobby to catch the stragglers. “Thomas?”

“Call me Tom.” He’s a cop, still in uniform, sitting on the floor with a big puff of gauze pressed into his shoulder. You kneel down beside him. 

“I’m y/n, can I take a look?”

“Sure.” He winces, pulls the bloody dressing away to reveal a big, messy gash slicing into his left shoulder. It will need stitches, that’s for sure, but other than that it looks like a fairly clean cut. 

“Knife?” You ask him, pulling back on his shirt. 

“Some fucking idiot crackhead with a sword, actually,” he grits. 

You laugh a little bit. “I’m having a hard time believing that.”

“So am I.” He tries to grin at you, but it comes out more like a snarl because of the way you’re poking and prodding at him. 

Maybe it's just because you're exhausted, you've had a terrible night, and you hurt all over, but you can't help but notice how handsome this man is, even after his own ordeals on the mean streets of the City of Angels. He watches you with sharp dark eyes that miss nothing. You almost feel sorry for the criminals who find themselves on the receiving end of that stare. As it is, you almost feel a little unnerved yourself, until you notice a sparkle of humor for you in those dark orbs. However, you still get the feeling like he's studying you while you are tending his wound.

“I gotta stitch this,” you tell him, a little shy under his gaze, now. 

“Are you good at that?” 

You’re kind of in your own little world when he asks that, looking at his arms. Solid and big. Nice veins. It takes you a minute to register that he even said something. Yeah, you chastise yourself, why don’t you just start fucking drooling while you’re at it? 

“Good at what?” 

His grin tips higher. “Stitches…” 

“No, but I'm going to stab you repeatedly with a needle anyway…”

He chuffs with laughter. “You just seem a little distracted.” The way he smirks at you, you just know you're caught out. Get it together, you scold yourself. Maybe act like a professional instead of oogling the nice police officer.

“Sorry. It's just been a really long night. I promise, you're in good hands.”

“Looking forward to it,” he answers, with a beam of direct eye contact that nearly brings you to your knees. 

This is where you catch your lucky break, because this is where you start to get annoyed. Mostly, at yourself, but partly at him too. He clearly knows how attractive he is. He's just that kind of asshole. And it's been fucking forever since you've gotten laid, because the world is just so full of assholes… It's not fair, the way he uses this advantage to tease you, when you feel like an extra in a Rob Zombie film. You do your best to appear unaffected as you walk away to retrieve supplies. You also pretend not to notice him staring at your ass, which, okay, you have to admit, it’s a little bit of a confidence boost. 

It’s almost stupid to put towels under his arm as you spray him off with sterile water - this floor could actually use it. You get the edges pink and shiny, uncake the blood and the viscera. Grateful for the distraction - distraction from the big, brown eyed cop who won’t stop looking at you. 

He has that type of stare that has weight to it. You feel it, on your skin– and you hate to admit it– in the aching throb between your legs, which is the last thing you need to be distracted by right now. Ah, the stupid lady parts, always making their vote known at the worst possible time. 

Even though you let the anesthetic sit for a while, modern medicine can’t account for all the pain. He’s wincing and grunting while you tug his open flesh back together, and those gruff sounds are not helping this whole being attracted to him situation. You feel like your skin is on fire from his overwhelming stare, from the noises coming out of that long throat. Christ, he’s not even touching you…

“You alright there sweetheart? I'm the one under the needle.”

You look at him, some of that anger escaping in your tone. “Please don’t call me sweetheart.” 

“Sorry. Been a long night for me too.” He lifts one of those sculpted dark brows at you, and you feel it as your heart tries most earnestly to tap dance right out of your fucking chest. 

You sigh, narrowing your eyes so that he knows he's not in the clear. Unfortunately, he just seems to find that adorable, those dark eyes sparkling like black diamonds. 

“Just…let me finish you off so you can get out of here.”

“Didn't know you performed that service here,” he quips with a smirk, and you're almost relieved he drives this final nail into his coffin, even if the suggestion makes a spear of desire shoot through you. 

“I'm starting to side with the crackhead now.”

“Ooo, ouch,” he snarks, unaffected. “Take your time, this is the most fun I've had in a while.”

You decide not to answer, concentrating on your work. This man has a quick comeback for everything, you have a feeling. Worse, you kind of doubt a girl like you has a chance in hell of outmaneuvering him.

As you're bandaging him up, he senses your time together is coming to a close. His demeanor changes a little– if you didn't know any better,  you'd think he was sad about it. “Thanks for stitching me up,” he says, surprisingly humble. He rolls those big dark eyes up to yours, and you feel your resolve to be a stone cold professional crumble–a little.

“You're welcome.” It's possible your touch on his shoulder lingers just slightly longer than it should. 

“Hey…” He clearly feels bold enough to catch your hand in his. And holy shit, that hand. Your little mitt disappears in his, wrapped up in long, blunt fingers. The things you bet that hand could do to you…

It's definitely not a helpful thought.

“Any chance I could give you a call sometime?”

Your initial, knee-jerk reaction to this question, from this fine-ass man, is Yes, please and thank you. You're sure he sees it in your eyes, the way you're practically ready to sit up and bark for him.

But then, past experiences raise their hands to the situation, and how grateful you are. 

You know this guy's type, you convince yourself. Handsome, and macho, and they think they're so cute they can say anything and you'll just keep eating out of the palm of their hand, grateful to be their girl. You've starred in this show before– and it always ends in tragedy, with your heart in shreds, and them shrugging you off before moving on. 

Not tonight. 

“Sorry, but…I think it's best we keep this professional.”

Why does it hurt to say it?

You expect him to sulk, maybe even get mean, the way so many manly men do when a woman bruises their fragile egos. However, it seems this man is different. He just smirks, and you realize with a skip of your heartbeat, that he is not deterred at all.

“If you say so, sweetheart.”

With your heart in your throat, you have a feeling this is not the last you see of detective Tom Ludlow.

[bakugoushotwife]

Okay, so here it is: I'm all about worshipping cock, tbh. I can't stop thinking about kissing Keigo though his boxers, sniffing his pretty cock and slapping it on my face. I want him to hold it on my throat as if he's chocking me with it.

But I really, really can't stop thinking about Keigo almost cumming in his pants bc I'm eagerly waiting for him to come home so I can jump on his pants and sniff his sweaty, glistening and pristine balls, like... I dream with him being into me sucking his cock after a hard day of work (I'm actually a clean freak so it's really bc I think he would try to keep it clean although I'm not sure, but the thing is really about the wooden smell of Keigo wearing pants all day). Not only I think he has perfect round and giants balls that I'd use as a pacifier but the thought of that man, a little sweaty taking all of his stress on my mouth, or even throat- gets my toes curling

And again, I've been silenced for too long!!! Wish he would use my head as fleshlight... Sorry! In all positions! Even holding the throat to tighten even more, massaging, humping it SORRY! Not only do I fantasize about things beyond what my body is capable of I fantasize about him being all fucked out, body limp, moving on it's own and eyes rolling after cumming so many times straight on my stomach sORRY on some days I'd ask for him to cum on my face untill it's a bukkakke of a single man SORRY SORRY SORRY

(the last thing is that he probably wouldn't bottom out, no, he'd probably be way too attentive while he uses my mouth to his own pleasure 😔)

a/n: this was the wildest ask i've gotten in a long time...i love it! had me wide eyed and giggling while i was reading sjhjkdfkgj but it got me thinking...also this is a lil snack while i recover from kinktober and work on some projects :)) this is absolute filth but nonnie didn't give me a choice LMAO

when you told keigo about your fantasies, he was a little shocked to say the least. not in a bad way, god, of course not. what kinda guy would he be if he didn't celebrate his shy little clean freak of a girlfriend's profession of obsession with his dick. it's just that, well. you are a clean freak and keigo knows that he smells like sweaty fabric and dirt and sometimes a little blood after he comes home from work. you hardly let his boots hit the tile of the mud room before you're ushering him off to the shower every day. to think that you've been having such naughty dreams of worshiping his cock has him dumbfounded. not to mention that he's always considered himself what one would call a service dom. he's the most turned on by your pleasure and knowing that he's the man behind it, reaching his satisfaction from watching his pillow princess make sweet sounds and pretty faces until you coat his cock, but seeing that sparkle in your eye at the idea made him eager to try it out.

cut to keigo being bewildered at how much he loves it. you strip him down to his underwear after work, for once not crinkling your nose up at the aromatic mix of dirt and his own natural musk--but burying your face in it. today was the perfect day for this too. it was a miserable day at the agency, one of sidekicks got hurt and the cops were especially dickish about it and now he has an ass-ton of paperwork to fill out on the matter. the hpsc's breathing down his neck for more information on the villains and he's all but ready to take a long walk off a short pier, but you kiss your way down his torso, letting your wet tongue drag along the crevices of his abs to taste the sweat that's gathered there over his day. you hum pleasantly at the flavor, and that's when he knows he's in for it. that alone felt so good, you were showing him that you'd do anything for him, and it made his heart and his dick swell with affection. he certainly wasn't used to being the receiver, usually taking his time in working you up and then spending even longer making you cum on his fingers and in his mouth until your body could only handle one more orgasm on his cock. but this, it was different. it was nice, your ass perched up in the air as you sit on your knees between his legs, face pressed against the bulge of his underwear. you're so seductive, eyes of a siren, really. you blink up at him so sweetly, watching his pupils expand at the sight of you nuzzling the growing shaft of his cock, smelling his natural aroma with a hint of the soap he used this morning when he left. your dainty hand fondles his balls, cupping and massaging them in ways he hasn't experienced before, making his breath catch in his throat and his dick twitch like he was going to cum already.

"i know today was hard...let me make it all go away." you hum, tucking your fingers under the waistband of his briefs, tugging them down his muscular thighs at the same time you pull your lip between your teeth. he nods approvingly, cock springing past the elastic to greet you, pretty pink tip glossing over with his excitement from your treatment. you hum happily at the sight, looking up at him in reminder of your conversation a few days prior. "wan' you to be as rough as you want, keigs." you nod, giving him permission all over again.

so he does what you wanted, what you practically pleaded for if we're honest. he lets you work your way around him, gripping his thick cock in your small hand in favor of lapping at his balls, tight and full of pent up frustration that he can't wait to release. he definitely keeps everything well trimmed for you, even though he never imagined you sucking on his balls so deliciously you're both drooling. he's growing impatient with your teasing though. your little kitten licks to his tip and the tight squeezes of your palm around his base; the way you flutter your lashes and grin up at him like you're daring him to take over finally does it and he's moving you both into a better position. one that will give him control and access to your throat for optimal relief of this stress and this now carnal desire to ruin you. he get to his knees, lifting you into a proper all fours stance by your throat, not nearly as gentle as he usually is, but you wanted that, didn't you? he shoves his way into your mouth, not caring about what you're ready for or not. you told him no limits, so he won't let you chicken out now. luckily, you're relaxed enough to let him slide right in, changing his grip to the sides of your face as he sets a wicked combination of moving your face and his hips. spit is flying, tears sliding out of your eyes at his brutality, and he couldn't love this more. he can see your eyes roll back, the need to cum already washing over him.

and sure, the first time he paints your slutty face with it, because no, you aren't his pillow princess right now. you're his cock hungry whore, and you begged to be. but every time after that, because yes, this feeling was too good to only feel once; he's shoving his mushroom tip past your uvula and spending it all down your throat until you tap out. it's automatic for him at some point. you've made yourself his stress toy, letting him forget the trouble that waits for him tomorrow in favor of watching his cum dribble past your lips as you sleepily swallow him for the fourth or fifth time tonight.

[starrgaziinggg]

begin again | hwang hyunjin

chapter thirty -> bonus chapter (wedding bells)

"SO HELP ME GOD!"

You physically jolt, awakening yourself from your slumped position on probably the most uncomfortable chair you'd ever had the misfortune of sitting on. Stretching your back out, your eyes found themselves darting towards Myeong, who was storming into the room you'd been in for the past half hour.

Despite not being a bridesmaid, you'd been roped into acting as though you were the wedding co ordinator. You didn't mind much, since it gave you something to focus on, rather than sit idly like your poor friends as they waited for Myeong to walk the isle.

"I swear to fuck, if I'm still friends with those bitches after this wedding, it will be a miracle," Myeong huffs, turning to you with an expression that could only be described as pure fury. "They've lost my damn veil. How am I supposed to walk the isle without a veil?"

You smirk at her, standing up from your slumped position on a rather uncomfortable chair and handing her the veil that you'd found discarded in the room you were currently in, presumably by Myeong's friends (and unfortunately, her bridesmaids). The stress dissipates from Myeong's face as she squeals, grabbing the veil and giving you an air kiss.

"This is why your my favourite person on this green earth," she sighs dreamily, as you take the veil she hands you and turn so you can fit it to her head. She looks at herself in the mirror beside her, fretting with her hair and smoothing down her pristine white wedding dress. "Well, except my soon to be husband, of course."

It's comical that you hear a knock on the door, Changbin's voice echoing from outside.

"Myeong?"

Myeong's eyes fill with terror as she screams, covering herself up as if that would have any effect in stopping Changbin from seeing her dress.

"NO! Fuck off, you can't see my dress!" She screams, turning to you and moving you to be in front of her. You can't help but openly laugh at the action, trying to hold it in because you just know Myeong's nervous about walking the isle in (hopefully) fifteen minutes.

"I'm not coming in, idiot. I just wanted to make sure you're ready!" Changbin shouts back, and you can practically picture his smirking laugh.

"Okay," Myeong replies cautiously, turning to look at herself in the mirror for the millionth time. "I'm almost ready!"

"Okay, my sisters coming in, by the way!" Changbin shouts again, before presumably disappearing when his sister opens the door and walks through. You loved spending time with Changbin's sister when you were kids, and you hadn't seen her in so long until you'd reunited with her (and all the other guests) last night.

Changbin and Myeong had decided to have their wedding in Jeju Island, taking control of an entire lavish hotel for the weekend. The whole hotel was decked out in decorations, and it looked beautiful, though you hadn't been able to spend much time admiring it.

"Jesus, Myeong. I adore you, but your friends are..." Changbin's sister starts, trailing off as she makes a face and can't find the words she needs. You cut in instead.

"Uptight and annoying?" You finish, looking at Myeong with a laugh. You two had bonded over how incompetent her bridesmaids were over the last couple months.

"Precisely," Changbin's sister winks, moving her long brown hair behind her ears. Her short dandelion yellow dress was absolutely gorgeous, and she looked beautiful, though you knew she'd be a balling mess as soon as she saw her little brother standing at the altar.

It was nothing on Myeong's dress, though. Her extravagant white gown had cost a pretty penny, but it was so worth it. Unlike the ballgown you thought she'd opt for, she had decided upon a form fitted, satin gown, paired with the most gorgeous silver heels you'd ever seen - she looked like a princess. Her hair was down, the front pieces pinned back with diamonds, and you may or may not have shed a tear when you saw her after you'd gotten ready yourself this morning.

"Do I look okay?" Myeong asks, turning to look between both you and Changbin's sister. "Tell me the truth. If I don't, it will just ruin what's supposed to be the best day of my life, no biggie."

You don't know whether to laugh or cry at poor Myeong, opting to give her an air hug instead. No way would you ever risk making a mark on her dress, not after she'd spent the last five hours getting ready. Yeah, five full hours. She'd been up since four in the morning, and you reckon she'd be out like a light by nine pm latest.

"You look absolutely beautiful," you say honestly. She looks up at you with her big Bambi eyes.

"Really?"

Changbin's sister hums, looking Myeong up and down and nodding approvingly. "I would put thousands on the fact that you're the most gorgeous person currently on earth."

Myeong cracks a smile at that, taking a deep breath, focusing her attention on Changbin's sister to ask her, "Did you need me for something important or did you just want to hype me up before I walk the line?"

"Actually, I came to get her," Changbin's sister points a thumb at you, turning to face and talk to you directly. "You're boyfriend is getting worried Myeong's murdered you or something, and he wont shut up, so please come and...I dunno, shut him up?"

You laugh, knowing Hyunjin is probably whining like a baby without you. Even after months of dating, he was still as clingy as ever.

"Sounds like Hyun," you turn to Myeong. "Shall I get your dad? He should be waiting in the room with your bridesmaids and Chan, and I think they could both use some saving right about now."

"Yes, yeah," she says, smiling. "God, dad's going to ball his eyes out when he sees me. Tell Chan he only needs to spend ten more minutes max with them, and go kiss your boyfriend since I can't kiss mine until he's my husband."

You blow her an air kiss, letting Changbin's sister take your wrist and lead you into the other room. Chan practically jumps at you as the door opens, moving away from the three girls trying to drag him into conversation to his left. Changbin's sister goes to Myeong's dad, letting him know she's ready for him to see her and prepare to walk the isle, before heading through to the main room where everyone is waiting.

"Fuck me," Chan hisses, widening his eyes as you walk over to him, looking dashing in his black suit. "Once Myeong and Changbin are married I hope I never see those girls again."

"That makes two of us," you chuckle. "You ready for your big moment?"

"Oh yeah, I'm under strict instructions from Dambi on how I should walk with her down the isle," he groans quietly, trying to avoid the prying ears of the three girls behind him. You chuckle at him, patting his shoulder. "I'm not kidding. She made me practice synchronising our steps like a billion times."

"Just think about getting to spend the rest of the day with Jaehwa and everyone," you remind him, watching as his face lights up at the mention of his girlfriend. He gives you a quick side hug, careful not to muck up your dress.

"Bets on that Hyunjin is whining like a baby about missing you?" He laughs, letting you go to where you needed to be - sitting on your bench, beside your boyfriend and the rest of your friends.

"Oh, he already is," you smile, watching Chan roll his eyes. "That's why I've been sent away."

"He's so whipped," Chan laughs, shaking his head as you leave the room, following the rows of flowers and decor to the room holding all the guests. You try to make your entrance as discreet as possible, since you'd be the last person to enter the room until Myeong's big moment, but of course as you walked down the isle to the front of the room, all eyes were on you.

They instantly turned around again, clearly disappointed you weren't the bride, and you chuckled to yourself as you neared the third bench from the front, where Seungmin, Jeongin and Hyunjin were staring at you. Changbin, who had already made his way to the altar, standing up at the front and facing you all, rolls his eyes at you with a smile. You slide into the bench beside Hyunjin, watching as Jisung turns to look at you from the bench in front of you.

"Way to ruin the moment," he scoffs. "Just as we finally thought Myeong was ready to get this show on the road, and it's you."

"I think my ass has lost all feeling," Felix contributed to the right of him, just as Minho turns behind him from Jisung's left to look at you all. "You look pretty, though."

You smile warmly at him, trying to flip Jisung off in a low-key way, since your mother (and all of the boys, minus Hyunjin's and Minho's, as they were both swamped with work and couldn't get the time off) were a couple rows behind you. Hyunjin absentmindedly places a hand on your knee and squeezes gently, giving you a grin.

"Took her long enough to get ready," Jeongin scoffs. "I wanted to take photos with her before Myeong took her away all morning and she didn't get out the room until 8am."

"That definitely wasn't because she was getting ready, Innie," Minho says, giving you and Hyunjin a smirk and an eyebrow wiggle.

"Getting undressed, more like," Seungmin adds cheekily. You reach past your boyfriend to swat at him, shooting Minho a pointed glare.

"At least Hyun will stop crying like a baby now," Jeongin rolls his eyes, to which your boyfriend only sends him a grin, making Jeongin fake gag.

"Shut up, all of you," you hiss. "Not in the place of worship."

"This isn't even a church," Jisung points out with a roll of his eyes. "We're in a fucking hotel."

"No swearing, either!" You add, nodding your head backwards to the rows where your mothers were enjoying catching up with one another after years apart.

"Sheesh," Felix groans. "When I get married, I'm letting everyone start drinking as soon as the sun comes up and saying my vows in two seconds, none of this waiting around crap."

"I fear for your non existent future partner," you say with a tilt of your head.

"I think it's romantic," your boyfriend speaks up, a love struck look plastering his face. He rests his head gently on your shoulder. "When we get married, I'd like to do it the traditional way. You know, all drawn out, in a church with big windows..."

"All in favour of not going to Hyunjin's wedding say aye," Seungmin starts, followed by a chorus of 'ayes' from your friends. You'd either laugh or scold them if you weren't still reeling from the fact Hyunjin referred to his wedding as yours, too.

You don't get the opportunity to scold them, though, since the music starts and the large hotel room is silenced. You all turn in unison, watching as Chan starts walking down the isle with Dambi by his side. Jaehwa was annoyed to be missing the ceremony, but she'd had a modelling job for Dior (yup, jealousy was a disease and you were highly infected) yesterday, which meant she couldn't get a flight until early this morning. She'd be arriving in the next hour or so to join everyone for lunch and the celebrations following.

Chan sends you all a wink as he passes you, followed by the next two girls and the men accompanying them - Myeong's two brothers. The girls don't even so much as shoot a glance in your direction, which you're honestly thankful for.

Changbin shakes his hands out, clearly nervous, before Chan nudges his shoulder once he reaches his right. You already feel the tears coming, unable to keep stable in this situation. You know there's a couple minutes until Myeong walks, as she comes down during a certain part of the song, so you lean towards Hyunjin, Jeongin and Seungmin.

"Who's the first to cry, Changbin's sister or his mum?" You whisper, nodding towards them both in the first bench in your row.

"You, judging by your watery eyes," Seungmin chuckles quietly, raising an eyebrow. Hyunjin frowns lovingly at you, a sparkle in his eye as he brings a hand up to your face and places a finger in the corner of your eye to remove the tears.

"At least hold out until they say their vows," Jeongin grins, shaking his head at you. The music picks up to the part where you know Myeong starts walking, so everybody starts standing up. After what seems like a minute of silence, but could only have been a couple seconds, Myeong and her father walk into the room.

Myeong's smiling brightly, from ear to ear, and you only take your eyes off of her for the smallest second to see Changbin's reaction. He's trying so hard not to, but you watch as he sheds a tear and laughs it off, shaking his head with a smile as he watches his soon to be wife walk towards him. Myeong's dad kisses her cheek before taking his seat, and soon after Myeong is standing at the alter, facing Changbin.

Thankfully, the vows are quite quick, but super emotional. You're in tears, the guys are holding back sobs - even Minho's lip trembles at one point. It's the first marriage of your friend group, almost as if signalling the end of your childhood. You, Hyunjin and Chan were in serious relationships, everyone was content with their jobs...you weren't all kids anymore.

You think back to your teenage years - boisterous Changbin who made it his mission to keep a smile on everyone's faces. To watch him place a ring on his wife's finger was so fulfilling, and you couldn't have been happier for him and Myeong.

"And with that, I pronounce you husband and wife," the officiant smiles. "You may now kiss the bride."

Changbin grins before swooping Myeong into his arms, kissing her dramatically. Everyone stands to clap and cheer, and you watch Chan's tears fall as he smiles at them. At this point, you're a mess - makeup definitely ruined. Hyunjin is balling beside you too, pulling you into his side and patting your hair gently.

Myeong and Changbin walk back down the aisle hand in hand, an upbeat love song playing to their exit, accompanied by the continuous noise of the guests. It's at that point you all file out of the room, bounding up to the newly weds to say your congratulations.

Myeong hugs you tightly, finally allowing herself to cry. "I'm married! I'm actually marrried!"

You laugh the tears, smiling brightly at her when you pull apart. "I know! You're the most beautiful bride I have ever seen."

She swats at you, blushing nonetheless. "Thank you for everything you've done to help me today, I genuinely don't know where I'd have been without you."

You roll your eyes at her lovingly, pulling her in for one last squeeze before she's ushered away in all the commotion. It's Changbin you turn to then, pulling him towards you. He wraps his arms around you before ruffling your hair.

"You idiot! I took one look at you sobbing in the crowd and I was a gonner," he scolds you, a smile plastering his face.

"I couldn't help it!" You fret back, wiping under your eyes haphazardly. "You and Myeong looked so happy, and your vows were so cute."

"Yeah, well, I've had them written since our third date, so," he grins, and you shake your head with a smile. He's pulled away by your mother then, her pinching his cheeks and cooing as he accepts it openly.

"Our Changbin, all grown up," she smiles, patting his cheek. "You're going to be an excellent husband, my darling."

And that sets you both off again, Changbin giving your mother a hug after not seeing her in so long. It's at that point Myeong claps her hands, letting everyone know that food will be served in an hour and the bar is open for drinks in the meantime. She winks at you, which you take as your queue to follow her upstairs and fix up both of your destroyed faces.

You find Hyunjin in the large crowd, his newly dyed bleach blonde hair sticking out in the crowd, letting him know you'll be back down soon.

"You're leaving?" He says instantly, concern on his face. You laugh at him, rolling your eyes.

"My mum isn't going to grill you, Hyun," you say, knowing exactly why he's been so worried about you being away from him this trip. Obviously, Hyunjin had met your mother many a time, yet he'd been nothing but a ball of stress about formally introducing himself to her.

Since you'd all been rushing about like headless chickens with the wedding preparations, you hadn't been able to properly catch up with your mum, save for a very teary eyed greeting and the promise to tell her everything since you'd last seen her. This also meant Hyunjin hadn't been able to meet her as your official boyfriend, which you'd tried to convince him would be fine, but your dramatic as ever boyfriend didn't believe.

You give him an encouraging thumbs up before Myeong's dragging you to her room, the two of you chatting excitedly about the reception as you reapplied your makeup. She's all smiles and excitement, and you take the opportunity to get some pictures just the two of you before you're rejoining the wedding party.

Everyone's milling around the bar, or already sitting at their assigned tables. You knew the seating plan had you, Hyunjin, your mum, Jeongin, Seungmin and their mothers on it, and to your surprise your boyfriend, who had been a bundle of nerves not half an hour ago, was sitting with a glass of champagne in hand, talking your mums ear off.

You shake your head, smiling at the scene of just the two of them at the table, walking towards them and giving your mum a hug before taking your seat in between them.

"My baby has finally joined us," your mother says, patting your knee gently. "Now, Hyunjin here was telling me all about your trip to America!"

She looks back at him expectantly, so he continues his story, shooting you an excited glance.

"I was just talking about how my mom has been desperate for us to visit again," he informs you, before directing his attention back to your mum. "It's my sister's birthday next month, and she's specifically asked us to fly out to visit. My mom was also wondering if you'd like to join us? She hasn't seen you in so long, and now that we're together, she wants to be able to spend time with you."

Your mum claps her hands in agreement. "Oh I'll be there! I've never been to the states, and I have missed your darling mum," she grins at you, tilting her head. "Aren't you lucky to have a millionaire boyfriend!"

"Mum," you whine, rolling your eyes at her. Hyunjin only chuckles.

"No, I know, I'm only teasing. Honestly, I knew the two of you would end up together. Your mum said the same thing, Hyunjin. And Chris kept me in the loop," she winks, and you both want to murder Chan for being a little snake and jump up and down with joy because of how clearly your mum accepted Hyunjin as your boyfriend.

Your happiness was short lived, however, as Jeongin and Seungmin walked up to your table.

"Why the hell have we been stuck with the lovebirds," Jeongin groans, which your mum slaps him gently for. He yelps dramatically, laughing at your mum as she pretends to be mad at him.

"Now Jeongin," she says adoringly. "You will find your perfect person one day! Don't let your recent romantic failure make you so miserable."

Seungmin snorts as Jeongin sends you a pointed look. "You told her about me being stood up by that girl I was seeing?"

You hold your hands up in defeat, laughing loudly when he pretends to punch you after your mum excuses herself to stand with Jeongin and Seungmin's mothers at the bar.

"You two are sickening," Jeongin says, taking his seat and sticking his tongue out. Hyunjin rolls his eyes at him, placing an arm around your chair. "It physically pains me."

"I don't hear any complaints about Changbin and Myeong or Chan and Jaehwa!" You point out. "Why is it always us that gets the brunt of your abuse?"

"Well for one, because it's Changbin and Myeong's wedding day, so they're allowed a free pass," Seungmin informs you. "And Jaehwa isn't here."

"Wrong!" You head Jaehwa say, which you whip your head around at. She bounds up to you as you stand up, hugging her and admiring her gorgeous pale blue midi dress. You'd both gotten to know each other well over the past months, and she'd quickly become one of your favourite people. You were so thankful the guys had good taste in girls, because it meant you had gained two best friends.

"You look incredible! How was Dior?" You ask after giving her a squeeze. She 'ah's in adoration, swooning at the thought.

"Phenomenal, I'm truly so lucky! How was the reception? I was gutted to miss it," she sighs, quickly waving hello to the boys.

"Beautiful, of course," you answer, to which you hear Jeongin mutter 'long' and Seungmin sigh 'drawn out' under their breaths. You shake your head at you friends, coaxing Jaehwa over to your mother. "Mum, this is Chris's girlfriend, Jaehwa. Jae, meet my mum."

The two woman share a hug, your mum gushing at how beautiful 'my darling Channie's girl' was. You take a seat beside Hyunjin, all smiles.

"So? Not as scary as you expected?" You ask him, tapping his leg with your foot. He grins in response, shaking his head.

"Nah, easy peasy. Older women love me," he smirks cockily, clapping his hands. "She's already started calling me 'son'."

You roll your eyes, saying goodbye to Jaehwa who goes to find her boyfriend, standing amongst a group of people and chatting their ears off.

"What do you guys want to drink?" Seungmin asks, to which your mum scoffs at.

"Don't you worry yourself, I'll get us some drinks," she reply's, cooing at your younger friend and standing up instantly, making her way over to the bar.

"I forgot how nice your mum is," Seungmin chuckles, shaking his head. "She's like God reincarnated into a beautiful middle aged woman."

"Don't tell her that, it'll go straight to her head," you respond with a smile.

"I forgot how stressful weddings are," Jeongin sighs. "I feel like this is the first time I've sat down since we arrived in Jeju."

You nod. "God tell me about it, I'm so ready for a damn drink."

It's at that moment your mum returns, two bottles of champagne in hand, which you all crack open and pour yourselves hefty glassfuls. Seungmin and Jeongin's parents join you, already tipsy and cooing at how cute you and Hyunjin looked together.

"I've heard my son has made a pretty penny from betting on your relationship,"Seungmin's dad teases, which Seungmin looks all too proud at.

"Easy money dad. These fools really thought I didn't have a clue they were together the entire time."

"It was a lucky guess!" Your boyfriend interjects, scowling at the younger man.

Seungmin's mum swats at him, making Jeongin howl with laughter. You and Hyunjin just shake your heads at each other, your mum smiling away.

"I don't know what's so funny," Jeongin's mum interrupts, her gaze set on her son. "I heard you'd lost out on a tonne."

Jeongin groans. "Don't remind me."

After more gossiping and catching up, everyone takes their seats and the food arrives. They'd spared no expense, hiring a renowned caterer, which you thanked the gods for. It was safe to say there wasn't a plate on your table that hadn't been licked clean.

Once your dessert had been successfully demolished, you hear the tapping of a glass, turning to Chris who's standing at his table.

"Oh god, here we go," Seungmin rolls his eyes.

"Hi everyone!" Chan starts cheerily, microphone in hand, instantly capturing everyone's attention as the room falls silent. "I'd like to start by thanking everyone for coming today, especially those of you that had to travel a ridiculous amount because a certain someone had always dreamed of a Jeju wedding."

Myeoung scowls at Chan, earning a laugh from the crowd.

"Sorry, sorry, I'm kidding - you've done a beautiful job, Myeong. I think we can all agree this has to be one of the most spectacular weddings we've attended."

The crowd hollers in response, and you clap alongside them, grinning up at your best friend.

"I'll keep this relatively short and sweet, since long wedding speeches are killer and nobody wants to hear me drone on for hours, despite how much I could talk about two of my favourite people.

I'd like to call myself a bit of a matchmaker, though for some reason my glorious group of friends and I all seem to have had ridiculously bad luck in the romance department. Sorry guys," he grins cheekily, which your friends all scowl at.

"However, saying that, recently things have started to look up. When Myeong and Changbin started dating, I thought 'this is it, they're meant for each other', and although the many dates I'd set up for Changbin had ultimately failed, and my title as matchmaker was in the dust, I couldn't have been happier.

Changbin has always been the mood maker, the class clown - the one that ultimately held us all together. He's an amazing person and," he directs his gaze to Changbin's parents. "You've done an incredible job raising him. I wouldn't be who I am without him today. Not only is he the best music producer CBH entertainment has ever seen, he has always looked on the bright side of life, no matter what was thrown his way.

So when I was introduced to the first girl that had ever managed to tie our boy down, I knew she was the one for him. Myeong compliments Changbin's energy completely, whilst simultaneously keeping him on his toes."

Myeong giggles at this, pinching Changbin's cheek, to which he swats at. You feel the tears welling up again, and Hyunjin pats your knee lovingly.

"Myeong is phenomenal. She's beautiful, hilarious, and the perfect person for our Bin. I truly am so thankful for your presence in his life, Myeong. And I know he will treat you like a goddess, because he worships the ground you walk on."

"Stop making me sound so sappy!" Changbin interjects, which you laugh at.

"Right, okay, sorry mate!" Chan laughs, shaking his head. "Anyway, it's obvious they're perfect together. And as sad as it makes me to see us all growing up - like, what the hell, Bin, you're married!"

The crowd chuckles once more as you feel the tears fall.

"I couldn't be happier for our newly weds. You both truly deserve the best of the best. So, before I start to full on bawl my eyes out, let's toast to the happy couple. To Changbin and Myeong!"

Everyone repeats the words, clinking their glasses together and clapping for Chan. He'd always had a way with words, and you genuinely couldn't wait to hear what he came up with whenever you and Hyunjin got married.

"Man, these idiots need to stop making me cry," Hyunjin laughs, clearing the tears away from his eyes. "My face is all puffy now."

"You still look handsome as ever," you grin, mimicking has action and checking your makeup in your phone camera. "God, I just can't get a grip of myself today!"

"Yeah, you two need to wise up," Seungmin teases. "When you guys get married, you probably won't even be able to say your vows over the sound of you both hysterically crying."

You punch him in the shoulder for that one, but you don't get the chance to make an equally as irritating remark back as you're hauled off of your seat and pulled onto the dance floor by Myeong.

The party hits full swing, all of your friend group dancing to the music the DJ was playing without a care in the world. You took it in turns to bust out your best moves, Changbin twerking as Myeong filmed, Jisung hitting the whip and nae nae so furiously he almost pulled a muscle, Felix full on breakdancing until Minho gently pushed him to the ground with a laugh.

For hours you guys stayed like that - taking photos together, drinking your stresses away. It was bliss. Pure, genuine bliss to be dancing and laughing with your friends, Hyunjin by your side. Amidst an argument between Minho and Seungmin about who was the best at doing the moonwalk, Hyunjin gently tugged on your arm and led you outside for a breather.

The hotel sat directly on the waterfront, a gorgeous balcony lining the side of the large room you were all in. It was beautiful, lights shining onto the gently rippling water and the sounds of laughter and happiness echoing from inside.

You were both sweating at this point, out of breath and in stitches from laughing with your friends. He pulls you into his lap as he takes a seat on a bench, you making yourself comfortable in his embrace.

"I think I'm the happiest I've ever been," Hyunjin says quietly, placing a kiss on your bare shoulder. You hum in agreement.

"Everything went so perfectly. It's been the best day," you smile down as him, placing a hand to his cheek and placing a chaste kiss to his lips. "I hope our weddings as lovely."

"You know, you talk a lot about our wedding for someone who is not engaged," Hyunjin laughs, earning himself the daggers from you.

He smiles all the same, thinking about the sparkling diamond ring sitting in a box, hidden away in a secret location back at your guys' apartment. He'd picked it out a week after you'd started officially dating, not a question about it. After FaceTiming Chan a billion times to show him ring after ring, his eyes had landed on the one he ended up choosing and all he saw was you.

He knew you didn't care about how he'd propose, you never did for things like that. Whether it be snuggled up in bed after binging a drama, or at your work office (which you had successfully christened, almost immediately after you'd finished placing your items at your desk. They were subsequently knocked off and Hyunjin did have to replace half of them) - you'd say yes to him in a heartbeat.

But, Hyunjin was a traditional man. He'd ask you after meticulous planning when the time was perfect. He was old fashioned like that. God forbid there wasn't an event of grandeur attached to him placing a ring on your finger to let the world know you were forever his.

"You know what I mean," you mumble, snapping Hyunjin back into the present. Hyunjin chuckles in response, tightening his embrace around you.

"I love you," he says then, making you smile. You place another kiss on his lips, your thumb rubbing circles around his cheek.

"I love you more."

"Factually inaccurate," he says immediately, which you giggle at, knowing it was a competition you'd never win. Hyunjin loved you, you loved him - it was known. Your friends could tease you to their hearts content, but it was obvious they loved the two of you together.

After a series of horrific dates (courtesy of Chan), a fake dating scenario that left your brain in a state of mush, a secret that almost ruined the blossoming romance between the two of you and finally throwing caution to the wind - you had him. You were together, and you'd be damned to ever let him go.

It was always him. And for him, it was always you. Right from the minute he laid eyes on you as a teenager. He could curse Chan a thousand times over for keeping you from him back then, but Hyunjin knew everything worked out the way it was supposed to. He'd never let anything come between the two of you again.

You'd began again, and this was it. The happy forever.

low and behold. After like, two years the final chapter is complete. This story is my baby, the first thing I'd ever written and completed. It started as a story I wrote to occupy my time over a boring summer. It turned into a community of people on tumblr and Wattpad who I cherished interacting with, and who loved this story as much as I did. I read every single comment, and they all make me grin from ear to ear. You lot are fucking funny.

I want to thank you for taking the time to read this, and to anyone who has interacted in a positive way, I adore you. I hope this is a nice ending. I think it is.

Peace and love

[katsukikitten]

Warnings: Body horror, Violence, child abuse. This is a work of fiction intended to be consumed by those who are 18 or older. If you are not 18 or older dni.

Mafia Heir Bakugou Katsuki, Guard Izuku Midoriya x reader.

The sound of a metal bay door clangs to life, shoved open by two strong hands as the gears echo their groans to the warehouse.

His lip twitches, brows furrowed as he sneers at the contents of the space dimly lit from the flickering lamps on the dock outside.

Two large shipments sit side by side, covered in black tarp sitting atop wooden pallets so fresh that the smell of pine competes heavily with the stagnant bay.

"How did those idiots forget both?!" He hisses under his breath, white paper cigarette bouncing between his lips as he pats himself down for his phone to call the more volatile buyer but before he can hit the contact the harsh fluorescent lights buzz to life overhead.

"Who the fuck-" He draws his gun but his threat dies quickly on his tongue. Mouth agape as his lit cigarette falls into a puddle formed from the neglected roof.

"Those 'idiots' didn't forget either shipment." Your voice rings out and when the goon spies you he sees you sitting atop what was supposed to be your shipment. You're looking over your claws, paying him no mind as if you were bored and seemingly alone. Although the man would have to be a fool to think that you alone wasn't the worst option he had.

"I have some questions. About my shipment." You hop down from the pallet stacked with pristine products taller than yourself. Pulling down the tarp and the one next to it that was supposed to be delivered tonight, to him.

"Can you spot the difference, Tadashi?" You give the man your back, stepping backwards and your heels clack. Echoing around the silent warehouse, "See how mine is a little bit shorter?"

Your dark eyes flash to him, close enough he can smell your expensive perfume and tonight you're dressed to the nines.

Tonight was supposed to be the meeting of clan heads by the surrounding syndicates. Your shipment was to be delivered by morning and the other was rushed to tonight.

"I don't see that. No ma'am." He can't even see any difference from where you sat on top of the heavily Saran wrapped white bricks. You were by no means a small woman either, strong in stature and you were not called Madame Morte for nothing. Your laugh catches him off guard, it's pretty, the sound contagious and the only reason he doesn't laugh along with you is because he knows exactly who you are.

But that didn't stop him from his little fuck up did it?

He swallows thickly and you smile up at him.

"Hmm that's funny then isn't it? A half inch difference is clear as day. So something must be wrong right? Especially since you take good care to make every brick the exact same weight, size and dimension." You walk over to the two shipments and take one brick off of each, holding them up where he can see the miniscule difference that he tried to pad up with extra wrapping. What's concerning is that the obvious ones shouldn't have been on the outside, he was careful with everyone else, more careful with you. Sure to wait until comfort had sat in and that the head wouldn't bother with the shipments and goons never look past the outside layers, normally that was after five shipments and this was your sixth.

"Ya know I found this one in the middle, about three layers were like this," You cut the brick open with your sharp claws the white substance flutters down onto Tadashi's shoes, "But there weren't bricks like this in the Red Dragon's shipment. Not. One. Single. Brick."

You walk back to return the brick from the opposing stack, ass swaying in that body con black dress and Tadashi tries to look everywhere but. He's seen you gouge out the eyes of anyone who lingered over your body for too long, he was sure it's why you kept those nails so sharp.

"You're a chemist right? Specializing in Bliss, especially correct?" Swiping your middle finger over the substance rubbing it between your digit and thumb, "So you know the chemical structure of bliss right?"

"Yes ma'am."

"I have a chemist as well, she isn't as smart as you, at least not according to everyone else, but do you know what she found in over half of this brick? A different structure. Baking powder." You're still smiling, still cherry sweet with the hint of deadly poison in your eyes before it turns into pure acidic venom, "So which is it? Are you an idiot or are you fuckin lyin to me?"

"N-neither ma'am." You roll your eyes and your done up lashes flutter wildly from the action.

"Liar then." You snap your fingers and a large man with emerald green curls shoves a woman and her two children into the light. Tadashi's eyes widen with horror as he looks over the crying half family.

His family.

"I'm sure since you have no issue lying in front of me, you'll have no issue lying in front of your family." You hum, cradling the woman's jaw in your hand, tapping the tip of a sharp claw to her cheek. The kids cling to their mother with tears in their eyes, their quirks flaring in their time of stress.

"Guess you weren't the smartest chemist underground after all. Pay attention kids, this is what happens to liars." Patience thin, you pull out your gun from under the thigh high slit in your dress aiming the cool metal at the goon who thought he could undercut and insult you in the same breath. The guy was getting off lucky in your guard's opinion given the fact you were electing not to use your quirk.

"W-wait! Wait wait! I can prove my loyalty." He grovels, hands shaking as he holds his palms up to you. It makes you scoff and cock your gun.

"You already did with how you handled my treatment."

"Bu-but I have this- this new product." He fumbles in his pockets, a red dot appears on his chest causing him to freeze.

"'Ts fine Zuzu." You wave him off but all your guard does is move his finger from the trigger, when you glare his way he lowers his gun.

Tadashi produces a small red capsule bullet, needle at the end when he takes off the top and it makes you furrow your brow.

"And what's this?" Curiosity melting your angry features.

"Something In development for mass production. For Overhaul. His shipment is in the back." It's obvious confidence is starting to come back to his sinful face as he nods his head to a crate behind you.

"Oh Kai? Hmm. What does it do then?" By now your gun is returned to its holster and hidden away.

"Quirk deletion." Tadashi gives a nasty smile, like he's truly proud of his work, "Ya know like Allmight's guard Eraser head 'fore he died."

"Ah well let's see it then." You smooth down the fabric of your dress a final time before looking up at him when he makes no action to move.

"Wh-what?" He stammers and it grates your nerves.

"You wanna live? You want your family to live? Silence your quirk." He shrinks under the disgust evident in your sharp gaze and shapter tongue.

"I-I can't do that." His eyes dart around looking for any sign of an out but when you play these silly little games, you always go for the kill.

"That too hard? Well pick your least favorite, silence one of their quirks instead." You gesture between the two boys that whimper at the wave of your nails.

"B-but…"

"B-b-but." You mock rolling your eyes, "But it's insurance isn't it? Proof of your loyalty to me? Especially since you've already been lying. You know how I feel about liars, or at least bad ones."

He swallows, stepping closer to his family and it's obvious now he isn't going to choose himself. Looking between the two boys as their quirks flare, like he's deciding which one is worth more to him.

All while silently telling you he doesn't have an antidote.

"Make up your mind I'm already running late for an event." Quickly he grabs at the hair of his eldest son, pulling the seven year old up by his roots and pushing the needle into his throat. His yelp echos around the warehouse but the most malicious thing of it all is that even with his back to you, you can see Tadashi's smile pushing up his cheeks.

"There." He turns around, sniffling, fat tears brimming his eyes, who he's trying to fool you stents sure, you just know it sure as hell isn't you, "I'll have an antidote for you by next week."

He wipes at his face, coming closer to you, well within arm's reach. Red dot on his forehead but you've spared Tadashi once, he figures you'd spare him again.

Because what woman would let a seven year old go without their quirk not that it mattered to him either way. Good riddance if you asked him, his eldest couldn't control his quirk for shit and it was annoying anyway.

"So I've-" But his sentence is lodged in his throat, unable to get past your steely grip, your lip snarled up in disgust. Your eyes bored, dull and he's coming to realize why they call you Madame Morte from his own first hand experience.

There are legends around your quirk, rumors, that yours is similar to the Ashen King's, although yours was more painful.

Rot, slow and hungry. Greedy in the languid licks as it spread through his body starting from under your pretty hand wrapped around his thick throat. Claws digging into flesh that darkens with blight before pieces of it begin to fall away from his muscles and bones in thick chunks, scream scratching up his throat.

"M-mercyyyyyy." His voice comes out garbled before ending in incoherence as his tongue melts in his mouth, sliding down his throat and taking with it his scream. You lean forward, watching the life flicker in his eyes as he rots slowly, too slowly and only once it's been a moment or so that the flesh is separated from the body does it turn to dust at your designer clad feet.

"God has mercy. I don't." Holding his head as his neck separates from his torso before dropping him all together.

Your eyes flicker to the broken family, the children hiding in their mother's thread bare turtleneck. Tears tracking through her cheap foundation and further exposing the poorly hidden bruises on her throat. It was obvious they were malnourished and it makes you gather saliva into your mouth.

Producing a hissing spit before it lands onto a stray eyeball that turns to dust seconds later.

Izuku is already across the room, rifle slung over his broad shoulders, face stoic as he grabs onto your wrist gently. Taking out a towel to wipe off your manicured hand.

"Kaminari." You look into the shadows before he appears, golden eyes glowing like a cat.

"Yes ma'am?"

"Take care of this."

"Yes ma'am." Kaminari nods, helping the woman up to her feet as Izuku carefully slides elbow length lace gloves onto your arms, that thicken around your palms and fingers, concealing the skin. "Usual collateral payment?"

"250k this time." You spit in the direction of Tadashi or at least what's left of him, again. Just ash fluttering in the bay breeze. Denki nods, skull half mask hiding his smile as he ushers the family out.

"And get them a new apartment, would you? Their old one was a dump." You hiss before going on a small tangent as Izuku fixes your hair, "Can't believe I set foot in there, piece of shit stealing from me and couldn't even fucking provide. Another thing Denks, I need the name of the landlord of that apartment complex. I want it in my name by tomorrow. Tenants relocated."

"Whatever you wish ma'am, it is done." Denki calls back before he takes the family to the van he brought them in, now given orders to relocate.

"You should really stop using your gift when you're in designer dresses, ma'am." Izuku fusses, his emerald eyes flickering to your body as he scrutinized the fabric for any lingering he may has missed.

"Why do you think I always wear black Zuzu?" You give him that damn look, the one that makes his heart clench, the one he can't say no to. He's sure there isn't a person alive who could say no to you.

"Because you like to make every day a funeral." Izuku smooths over your dress, double checking the zipper. He's pulled his half mask down to settle around his throat the second he needed to attend to you. His eyes lingering over your jewelry to make sure it was still in tact until your claw settles under his chin. Tilting his gaze to even with yours even with him leaning closely to you.

"I'm fine. Really." You lean up on red bottomed heels to gently press your lips to his before you're settled back on your feet.

He gives you that pained look he always wears with the two of you get "unprofessional." Still it doesn't stop him from leaning over to kiss your cheek, lips grazing the corner of your mouth before he pulls away and draws the line in the sand by adjusting his half animal skull mask back over his face.

You always think the line is for you but really, it's for him. You live in blissful ignorance on what you do to him and what you allow him to do to you.

It's like you forget the lengths he's gone and still willing to go to protect you at all costs. Even if that means killing his idol. If you asked him he'd tell you he'd do it all over again.

"Aw Zuzu bear don't pout." You tease and his eyes crease in that fake smile he uses to make pretty girls swoon as he presses his broad hand to your back.

"I'll call the car Madame."

"No, no. I'll walk." He gives you a glare but doesn't fight it, talking over the coms to the two waiting outside.

Meanwhile Ochako stands outside in her suit, half mask tiger skull still secure around her pretty face, making her doe like brown eyes that much more deceiving. She flips her knife over and over in her hand. Playing with her quirk that she activates to send it higher before letting it fall back to her hand.

"She should be here by now." Ochako doesn't like waiting, makes her anxious and Sero sighs, more than used to his partner's mannerisms. Mask around his throat as he's hunched over to protect his cigarette he's trying to light from the wind.

"You know madam gets caught up sometimes. It's never anything to worry about." Sero says as he straightens himself out, watching pier bay 42 with the door open just half a block down. He watched the man go in, watched the lights come on but no red confetti yet.

He blows out smoke before his com crackles to life in his ear, Ochako's fingers twitch as the both wait for the command.

"She insists she comes to you." Izuku's voice rings in their ears.

"It's clear and we are on standby." Ochako answers as Sero tries to finish his cigarette while he can, otherwise he'd get fussed at by his pretty boss who chided him on how it would rot his lungs.

And how she would know best.

Once he sees you he flicks the butt, smothering the ember into the gravel under his designer shoe as you walk closer, your lap dog at your heels.

Izuku isn't the same kid that Sero and Ochako grew up on the streets with, no longer the shy, cautious boy he once was. Especially not after the three of them were forced to hop around for mercenary work before the clans popped up to take over the cities. Like a shadow government that the real one feared more than the masses.

The three of them were good at their jobs, Izuku the planner, Ochako the executioner and Sero the getaway driver. But being good, too good even, made them cocky. It wasn't until they went up against a syndicate they had no business trying to steal from did they learn their lesson.

Your father was ready to kill all three of them. They were just lucky enough you had forced your way into sitting in on this very important meeting moments earlier.

Bags torn from their faces and your eyes widened in delight when you saw they were all the same age as you at the time. The ripe age of fifteen.

"Oh Father, killing them would only be a waste of their potential." Sero remembers how you looked, how you still make that face to this day and often. Like a cat that's caught a mouse by its tail with nothing but delightful day dreams of batting it around.

"I want them to train to be my new guard. They're mine now."

"Absolutely not." Your father's voice boomed around the room, making the teens shake, helpless with their wrists bound behind their backs, "You took in that blonde stray two months ago I'm not going to allow-"

"And yet who's men did they slip past? How many layers of security did they slip through? The blonde more so than them but our shit is secure now isn't it? Besides." You hop down from your father's old mahogany desk, "Princess always gets what she wants. Isn't that right?"

Your father pinches the bridge of his nose, he made a monster of you, he truly did.

He'd be lying if he wasn't proud of it, especially after what happened to your mother.

"Fine. But no more strays. That's final."

"That's fine. I won't need anyone else."

That was ten years ago and in the past decade Sero had been treated better than he could ever imagine. He has a lot of freedom for a head of a department and you've made it clear that only the four of them had the option of getting out if they wanted. No strings attached as long as they stayed silent you wouldn't look for them.

But you haven't once given them a reason to leave.

Sero fingers the swirling ink on the inside of his thick forearm, the family crest sitting proudly on display when he's driving you around, hidden in the city so he can float throat the crowd like all the other faceless nobodies.

You're graceful, even in the uneven gravel of the parking lot, smiling genuinely as you approach two people you have and would kill again for.

"Sero, Ochako, thank you for waiting. Ochako love, I have a task for you dear. Inside is a crate that Zuzu has marked would you be a doll and make sure that it gets transferred to Momo's office immediately. I'd like for you to hand deliver it and call me once you're there." You talk as Izuku helps you into the car waiting for you to finish before he shuts the door, "And you'll have no problem keeping your girlfriend company will you?"

"No ma'am." Ochako blushes as you wear your knowing cat smile. Izuku shuts the door and rounds the car to sit on the other side. Sero turns over the engine. Ready to pull away on your command.

Ochako watches her reflection in the pitch black tint retreat as the window rolls down revealing just your eyes that sparkle with that dangerous glint.

"One more thing. If you could ask her to expedite this antidote please. I've got a seven year old waiting on it."

"As you wish ma'am." Ochako nods and watches her reflection grow this time while your eyes disappear before Sero throws the car in drive and tries to salvage some of the lost time hoping to make you no later than an hour late to the most important meeting of the year.

But you wouldn't be the Princess if you weren't always fashionably late now would you?

[airbendertendou]

31 and with Tsuji please 🙏🏻

a rough number 31 + tsuji sameoka!reader

"MY PATIENCE IS WANING, IS THIS ENTERTAINING?"

he can't feel it anymore. really, the countless fists and kicks bruising into his body don't even hurt anymore. shibaman had long since passed out, merely groaning in his sleep as he's hit continuously. tsuji can barely turn his head to check on his friend, make sure he's still breathing, at least.

"don't you think that's enough?" like an angel beaming down on him, tsuji hears your voice. his shattered glasses reflect the image of you with your arms crossed. "are you trying to kill them? that's illegal, shoji. you want to leave me and spend your life in jail?"

your brother looks at you incrediously, "i'm not doing anything to them, am i?"

you roll your eyes at him, "right. you just give the orders." gesturing to the two bodies on the ground, you simply stare him down. "so, order them."

shoji stares at you before clicking his tongue. you were like your mother in that way - able to get him to do anything with just one look. "yeah, alright. that's enough! time to leave."

"but-"

your brother is quick to grab the boy by his collar, cutting off his protest with a choke. "we wanted to send a message. message sent. let's go."

retreating footsteps cause tsuji to relax. he waits for the pain to hit him - for darkness to greet him and take him away for just a second. as he turns his head, he sees polished, pristine shoes.

you look down at him with a frown. shoji stands a distance away, not saying a word as he watches you place a mediocre first aid kit between the two. "sorry," you mumble, "i wish i could stop them. rest well and heal, hm?"

"name, let's go!"

tsuji repeats your name in his head until he falls unconcious. he'd remember you - your kindness and the hold you have on your brother. name, he'd remember you, and the angel you were.

——♡—— love writing siblings w hnl tbh the dynamics are v fun to play around w tagging @high-and-low-all-the-way for hnl content <3

request your own here ♡ read more

[mjanelupinblack]

I don’t understand but I luv u (minghao x reader) PT1 ✨

Summary:

Where you are eternally in love with Minghao but your friendship with Mingyu prevents you from doing anything to have him.

Where a deep hole pierces your heart and there’s no way to fill it except for the touch of another lonely soul.

Pairings: Minghao x Reader / Mingyu x Reader (for now, this will get messy)

I

"Was it so difficult to stay quiet?" Mingyu complains, having run out of paper balls to throw. He's annoyed because, if it weren't for Hansol's suggestion, they could have left school ten minutes ago.

Mingyu is right, at least for the rest of my classmates who yawn and stretch in their seats, their school supplies put away, eager to go home. For me, those ten lost minutes are a free ticket to dream without restraint. Mingyu realizes this when I nod absentmindedly in response to his comment, completely unaware of what he said, as I'm more focused on the pristine strands of Minghao's golden hair. In the sapphire streaks that peek out amidst his straight hair, like a cascade of freshly cut lupines, fresh and ready to be arranged into a bouquet.

Minghao fixes a mischievous strand of hair and sighs, reclining in his seat with crossed arms. He appears attentive to Hansol's contributions until a wet paper ball hits his neck, and my heart skips a beat as he touches the spot.

He turns to smile at Mingyu, who doesn't respond to his friendly gesture. From that moment on, the world never returns to its course.

II

Mingyu and Minghao are friends. Not as close as to laugh together until their stomachs hurt or as loyal as to offer to catch a bullet with their chests for each other, but they exchange a word or two when necessary. They met at the beginning of high school, long before I entered the school to disrupt the already established dynamics of that classroom. It's not necessary to look closely to realize that they are very different, like the front and back of a coin, designed with their own peculiarities and destined never to meet. The sun and the moon. Heat and coolness. Mingyu's skin is chocolaty and melts with the warmth of his temperament. I've never touched Minghao's skin, but I imagine it shares the color and qualities of porcelain, like grabbing a snowball in your hands and trying to melt it with your body heat, but the snow is colder and ends up freezing your skin. Perhaps that's why interacting with Mingyu flows so naturally, like water, while just the sight of Minghao makes my teeth chatter and sends me seeking refuge by the fire.

I like his ethereal aura, like a dragonfly impossible to catch because his soul is free, and the wind supports it. So, all that's left is to watch him fly. Watch him touch the sky. Watch when I leave the classroom to go to the bathroom and casually pass by the practice room. I see him stretch his body like a dancer from those fairy tales. He seems even more flexible than them. Because Minghao is not from this world, but the world could be his.

"Are you coming?" Mingyu asks while Hao engages in a heated conversation with Wonwoo about why Tottenham Hotspur doesn't need Harry Kane to win.

Mingyu knows the answer to his question.

"Are you still afraid to share space with Minghao?" he insists. "He's human. Flesh and bone. He doesn't bite, unless..."

He mocks me. He refuses to let go of my infatuation with Hao, so he makes jokes, falls silent when they're not funny, and eventually changes the subject to avoid poking at the wound. He teases me about the blush on my cheeks. It's intense, like two freshly picked apples from a tree. He also teases me about my racing heart and my limited ability to take it out of my chest and carry it like an accessory in my hand.

For him, using his heart on his sleeve is so easy.

III

Gyu shares a peach with me that had been waiting its turn in his backpack among all the fruits. Flavors burst in our stomachs, like two hungry fugitives who devour and can't do anything else. Both of us have juices running down the corners of our mouths; juices that we absorb with our tongues and wipe away with the back of our hands. We end up with sticky fingers. He cleans one hand on his pants and offers me his earbud with the other to start our Friday afternoon ritual. I don't particularly like the song he plays, but I refrain from making comments as I gaze at the vastness of the sky. Not a single cloud disturbs its majesty. Only the seagulls do, gliding far away from our bench.

My eyes are tired. And my mind even more so because, every time I close my eyes, they replay the stretched silhouette of Minghao, as if trying to touch the ceiling with the tips of his fingers. His form seems to be carved on my eyelids. Engraved in every nook and cranny, despite the darkness. This time, I don't close my eyes, but the image presents itself to me almost as involuntarily as when I replay it in my head. Maybe because he is there this time, in reality. And from his lips, my name slips out with a sweetness like that of the peach I just nibbled.

"Wonu told me we're neighbors," he spits out what I've been hiding so easily, as if counting on with his fingers. "I wanted to offer to walk you home. To make it safer."

"Ha! Safer?" Mingyu asks. "She's a black belt in Jiujitsu."

Minghao seems surprised. Behind the clear glass of his glasses, he opens his eyes wide, as if asking me if it's true. An admiration I always longed to receive and that hurts even more deeply when it comes from him.

How much more interesting would it be if that were true, if I had already achieved the black belt a long time ago. How much more interesting would it be if I soared through the air and stretched myself like a fairy made of plastic bones. If I did things faster, if I didn't mind taking my time. If his kind gaze didn't terrify me and if words flowed like a river when he stood in fronto of me like a mountain.

Yes, we're neighbors. Yes, I would love for you to accompany me, and no, I'm not a black belt in Jiujitsu, but I would like to be one in another, more interesting life.

"We'll walk together after class," Mingyu replies because I'm frozen. He peels a mandarin without paying more attention to the matter. He didn't expect a different outcome. "Thanks for the offer."

Hao says goodbye. My mouth closes in an empty smile, licks the air, loses all its meaning after Hao leaves, and Mingyu changes the song to a more melodious one.

He seems at peace. Mingyu is the solace of silence; someone who speaks for you when your tongue is tied. He is the sigh of relief after smelling a vanilla-scented candle when you thought your lungs couldn't stretch any further.

He feels comfortable.

And Minghao walks down the street without a drop of tranquility to ease my thirst.

IV

We head to the arcade; a playground for kids, a step into the casino for young adults. There are machines that make noise, scream, and cry with something akin to fun. Fun and joy go hand in hand, but I'm not sure they're the same thing. As we enter, we find Wonu sitting in a flight simulator. He shoots innocent civilians who will respawn as soon as he drops the game and start playing Just Dance.

"Yah! We told you to wait for us at the entrance," Mingyu complains, grabbing the monstrous headphones surrounding Wonwoo's head and shouting right into his ears.

"Yah!" Wonu imitates him. He tries to save the game, but the civilians escape like cockroaches and a tank breaks one of his airplane’s wings. "I waited at the entrance for twenty minutes!"

Wonu tries to be aggressive, but his shouts don't even tickle Mingyu's ears.

"Well, we arrived five minutes late!"

A woman looks at them as a librarian would. She asks for silence with a furrowed brow, even though they're in the palace of teenage chaos. In fact, that's the bait. With her disdainful humor, she makes Gyu look her in the eyes, his eyes wandering on the curves of her mature body. I wonder if I look equally exposed, equally filled with lust when I watch Minghao's slender body stretch. Or maybe I put on the same long face as Wonu, humiliated and disappointed when Gyu leaves us to talk to the stranger.

"It's just you and me," I say, trying to cheer him up. "How about Just Dance?"

"She could literally kidnap him."

"Maybe Mario Kart?"

"How old do you think she is? Do you even think they let her in here?"

"We can play bowling, basketball..."

He condemns me with a murderous look. One that was originally created for Mingyu, the guy who breaks his heart in every chance he gets. Wonu notices his terrible way of confusing emotions; of always directing them to the wrong people, and his gaze softens.

"I feel like punching a wall."

"Well then, Street Fighter it is!"

We never talk about Wonwoo's feelings. Not because we don't try, but because every time we think about it, a strange phenomenon occurs; his face tenses up as if he can feel our thoughts like a cold breeze. When emotions are too strong, it's better to keep them locked up. To refuse to open the Pandora's box unless the other person approaches, pulling their demons by the tail. Otherwise, they often reject the help and mistake it for condescension.

Stubborn. That's a word that fits both of them like a glove.

We go from Street Fighter to Just Dance. I let Wonu be aggressive in the first one, winning without soul. After all, he'll be too distracted to beat me in Just Dance, and if the tiebreaker game is about physical skill, my body will be more activated than his, with adrenaline still coursing through my veins.

As expected, I win. Much to my chagrin, the third game is not about physical but mental skill. The claw machine stands before me like a monster.

"The first one to get a plushie wins."

"I don't have money to play this."

"I'll pay, are you scared?"

In fact, I'm scared. Not scared of losing per se; what I fear are the emotions that torment me after each failure. I know Wonu fears the same thing. Maybe that's why we can compete against each other. Because the loser limits himself to buy the ice cream and the rest of the ride proceeds in silence. No jokes. No teasing or stirring what doesn't need to be touched.

"You go first."

Wonwoo almost wins on his first try. I try and try, but the teddy bear, the caterpillar, and the penguin slip away from the claw. Half an hour goes by without either of us getting close to winning.

"I need to go to the restroom," Wonwoo announces.

"Don't cheat!" I shout as he leaves.

"How can I cheat from there?!"

I try to take a break. Then I realize how difficult it is to soothe a hungry spirit. I try to find logical combinations, intelligent ways to cheat, but nothing works. I end up leaning against the plushie machine, watching Gyu from a safe distance; the woman he spent the last hour with looks much younger under the new light. Different from the initial stupor. My friend is helping her redirect the bowling ball towards the pins, but there seems to be much more behind that innocent gesture.

I imagine myself being held the same way; firmly, embraced by strong and affectionate arms. I get lost in a daydream where my friend laughs in my ear, tickling my neck with his breath. I would never dare to flirt with Mingyu, but my chest begins to feel bland. I think Gyu has spent enough time with this girl whom he will never see again once he gets bored. Two hours earlier, he had his fingers in my mouth, feeding me tangerine slices as if I were a little bird in need of care. She will find something better. But what do I have?

"You should align the hook with that puppy's ear," a calm voice says.

"That's what I'm trying to do," I reply. "Do you mean this one?"

Minghao shakes his head. He approaches and taps the glass three times.

"This one here."

I'm still wearing my school uniform, sweating the same sweat I've been dripping for hours. In contrast, Minghao wears tight-fitting pants that cling to his skin. His scent is so strong that I hope the particles find their way into my body and imprint it forever.

I speak before thinking, and I realize that's the only thing that allowed my voice to remain steady.

Next step, Hao inserts a coin. His hair falls loose over his ears. He manipulates the claw machine and it obeys him as if he was God himself. The claw drops, rests on the puppy's hairy ear, and rises again. His once empty hands now hand me the plushie.

"Thank you," I manage to respond. I appreciate my upbringing's politeness.

"It's nothing. I saw you both struggling to get it."

"Yes... We were having a little competition, actually."

"For the plushie?"

I have a feeling that it finally happened. It happened, and I responded with the wrong thing because going to an arcade and having a competition to win a plushie from the claw machine is such a childish thing to do when you're seventeen. I reply with a yes; it was a competition for the plushie, and I hug the puppy as if Minghao were about to snatch it from my hands. As if it were a test, and I had failed.

"Then you won."

"No, he'll know you got it."

"I'll leave right away. And I won't say anything to him."

God sets the rules. He determines what's right and wrong, what should be said, and what should remain hidden. Now, he's playing the Devil's game, taking the same things he said were wrong and making them right.

"Were you expecting someone?" I ask, aware of the gradual but sure crumbling of my morality.

My question seems to be the equivalent of his statement. It bothers him because no one dares to ask questions to a God who doesn't have time to give answers.

"My partner."

"A man?"

Hao nods.

"Actually, it's just my date."

He glances at his watch and makes a gesture indicating it's time to go. Before his departure, I can already see him disappear; become transparent and revealing that everything was a projection of my most cherished desire until then: to have a conversation with him.

But the plushie remains heavy in my arms. And it looks at me with the vital gaze of a living creature.

When Wonwoo arrives, I hand him the puppy.

"I won," it hurts to say that. It's a lie, and I think my friend notices it.

[ronearoundblindly]

a jimmy for you 😌🤲🏻💕

Alrighty, I get that I have not posted any real story for Common Education but this pic is giving me vibes. Warnings for zero editing and GOOD CHRIST sexual tension. WC ??? It's not long.

Sad Sack, a Common Education headcanon/thing/idk

So imagine you're older-student-Jimmy Dobyne's history professor and you've had a few instances of realizing that he is not at all like your typical student based on his background. He knows hard labor. He knows early mornings and long days. He does not know partying or really getting out of the comfort zone of similar-minded people. Jimmy's roommate, Steve Rogers, being an artsy nerd is a bit of a stretch as is.

Imagine that the first big paper was due last week in your class, and Jimmy did...okay.

He's good at memorization, like a lot of college freshmen, but he's not been asked to analyze very much. His paper didn't give any insight or opinion, and you critiqued it as nicely as possible because you are rooting for Jimmy (probably more than you should). You want this young man to succeed.

Jimmy does not take it well.

You don't see him two classes in a row which means he's now missed a week. Yes, you videotape lectures for kids like Steve Rogers who have reason to not come into class frequently. Yes, Jimmy hasn't missed any assignments at all and his grade average is perfectly fine.

You're still worried.

So you spend more time than normal at that little bakery you first met him at, arriving a little earlier, staying until the last second before you have to get to your classroom. No Jimmy.

Finally, you brave asking Noah, one of the bakery employees, if he's seen Jimmy around.

Noah looks very confused.

"Yeah," he scoffs, "I love that guy. I haven't had back pain all week."

When you return an equally bewildered stare, Noah points toward the back.

"He's right out there."

You crane your head over the counter and lower your voice. "May I?" You point through the building. "Do you mind?"

You think perhaps...well, you don't know what to think as Noah leads you carefully through the kitchen and to the alleyway beyond.

Sure enough, there's Jimmy, hauling enormous sacks of flour off the back of a truck and just shooting the shit with the delivery men all taking a smoke break whilst your student does their jobs for them.

You don't mean to, but you hiss his name like a disappointed mother.

"What are you doing?" As the other workers around seem more interested in what such a professional, pristine lady is doing out on their loading bay, you step closer to continue asking, "Why haven't you come to class?"

Does he need the money? You thought he had enough of a scholarship to cover living expenses. It's not as if the man still donning his farm shirts and stained henley is a big spender.

He ignores you until tossing the flour onto a dolly Noah then rolls inside.

"Look, Teach--" Jimmy takes off his trademark hat to wring in his hands, calling out to the workers by the truck "--one sec, boys."

He juts his head out to lead you deeper into the alley, then crosses when he realizes that's near the dumpster.

"I'm not..." Jimmy pulls a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket, tapping one out and putting it between his lips. He doesn't light it. "I don't think I'm cut out for this. I don't know why I came here."

"Is this because of one paper? Did something happen in another class?" You stop yourself from ripping the smoke right out of his mouth so he'll look you in the eye.

Jimmy shakes his head and does it for you, rolling his tongue over chapped lips and then holding them in.

"No, ma'am."

You relax a little, waiting for him to elaborate. You're waiting the whole time Jimmy mulls over his cigarette. He takes out a lighter and then thinks better of it and shoves it back in his pants, leaving the hand buried in his pocket.

"Can't have you thinking of me like that," he mumbles. "Like what if I just get worse? What if I'm stupid and...I don't want you to see me that way."

His concern warms you inside, hitting lower than that heat of appreciation should.

You sigh, trying not to allow your smile to read as dismissive.

"You are not stupid, Jimmy. You proved that long before you walked into my class. You're skilled and curious. You work hard. You could never fail that way. You could certainly never--" you clear your throat "--fail me."

He looks everywhere else but at you, shyly adjusting the brim of his hat again.

"You're just saying that."

No, in fact, you shouldn't be saying that. You shouldn't be having any hushed conversation in a back alley with one of your students, but you can't stand the thought of Jimmy giving up. He deserves this. He deserves options and a way to elevate himself. He deserves to choose his own path beyond the plot of farm he's only known.

"Come back to class," you beg, chancing to reach out and grasp the arm--that thick, veiny, strong forearm--which fiddles with a cigarette like a silver dollar dancing between his fingers. You could be hypnotized by those hands, how they move, what they can do. "Please."

He flexes in your hold.

"You want me?"

His deep voice should not spark the high jump your heart does.

"I want you there," you allow, swallowing the lump in your throat.

For whatever reason, you can't for the life of you let go of Jimmy's arm, and your gaze raises. Your apologetic eyes are met with something infinitely more dangerous--confident, clear blue ones.

"Can't let you down then, can I?"

You're trapped, helpless, at the complete mercy of a gentleman you almost wish were naughty.

"So," you whisper, "I'll see you Tuesday?"

"You'll see me whenever you want, Teach."

Oh damn.

You release his arm finally, the breath you had no clue you were holding gusting out like a tidal wave.

"I'm taking this," you say, plucking the smoke from his hand. "It's a nasty habit. You should quit."

But you don't throw it on the ground or dispose of it in the dumpster, no. You're going to need this cigarette after you forcefully release the freight train of tension that just drove its way into your core.

Just as you turn, Jimmy lands an equally incendiary response.

"Yes, ma'am. I can do that for you."

Y'ALL I AM NOT OKAY. WHY. WHY HE END UP SO FUCKING HOTT? HOW???

My god, no wonder I haven't been able to write more than drabbles of these two--I'D FAINT. immediately. D.E.D. Ded.

Anyway, tagging interested parties is beyond my brainpower at the moment, so maybe in reblogs later. Fuk. I need a cold shower.

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[ikeromantic]

Tis the month where we bid farewell to a year filled with tears and laughter. A month where everything is under an expansive blaket of pristine white as if the world is cleansed into a crystal clean slate but before we say adieu to 2023 and ahoy to 2024, would the fine and most creative beloved scribe grant us a final (perhaps few) scribbles for 2023? Perhaps one of the great multi-bejeweled warlord as he sits outside with his beloved, watching a flurry dance of the heaven's crystal flakes or maybe with the rather enigmatic Vlad as he catches the first few snow on his cold hand and magically transform it into a crimson heart for his lady. Guess you can't figure out who this nony is eh.

Hehehe ^_^ I might have some ideas where this ask came from, but I won’t tell if you don’t! Thank you for your lovely compliments, and for being your sweet self. I think I’ll write something for Vlad. I haven’t had much opportunity to write for our strange vampire prince. Approx 1300 words of fluffiness.

Vlad pushed his flower cart along the icy cobblestones. Snow drifts covered the stoops and squares and hid the fountains and lampposts. The Paris streets were a winter wonderland, made softer by the blanket of snow. In a few hours, it would be reduced to piles of gray slush and chill ice-melt, but now, in these early morning hours, it was magical.

“We should enjoy it while we can,” he said softly, his breath steaming. 

The poinsettias on his cart nodded with red-leafed wisdom, bobbing silently in their colorful pots. Vlad regarded them solemnly. They were flowers of good cheer, the joy of family and friends. That was why he’d brought them today. To spread happiness despite the season’s chill. He found a good street to stop on. 

There were several other stands setting up here, selling hot cocoa or mulled wine. Hand held snacks and little bags of colorful candy. By the time Vlad settled into place, the street was bustling with the day’s traffic. Most barely noticed the man and his flower cart.

Vlad watched the crowd, his half-lidded ruby gaze searching for the right customers. The people that would most need a bit of cheer. The first was a young maid, hurrying through the shops. She wasn’t dressed for the cold, and her uniform was ill-fit, too big for her small frame. She wore a face of intense concentration as she tried to keep her hem out of the muck. 

He gave her a tiny white rose, barely more than a bud. In a day or two it would open into a beautiful rose. Her smile blossomed at the gift and she was humming as she returned to her errands.

The second was an old man in a patched coat. He wore a look of weary bitterness born of too many years alone, and expectations unmet. Vlad gifted him a poinsettia, with crimson blooms and a verdant stem. 

His third customer was a gentleman, a man with a young face but ancient eyes. He’d served as a soldier, and the horrors of that etched scars across his soul. Vlad gave him a bundle of forget-me-nots and baby’s breath. The man would never forget his lost friends and slain enemies, but life gave him a second chance. A new beginning.

The flowers in Vlad’s cart were given away one at a time, until he had only one left. A tiny white poinsettia in a glazed white pot. The plant had just one small flower, and two little green leaves and a narrow stem. There was a time when he might have cut such a plant down, but he’d come to realize that every bloom had beauty. 

He wondered who would come for this last little flower. The sun hung low in the sky, a distant glow at the edge of the city skyline. The lamplighters were already out, and many of the stalls were closing up. But Vlad didn’t want to leave until he’d found a home for his last blossom. 

The sunset came, its glory muted by the thickening clouds and the roiling mist that crept up the banks of the Seine. Candles flickered behind paned glass windows, and the lamp flames wavered in the growing darkness. It seemed the last flower would need to wait for another day to find its place, Vlad thought.

He took off his apron and tucked it into the cart with a sigh. Just as he straightened, a pair of mittens covered his eyes. Vlad froze stock still. He knew, of course, exactly who it was. 

“Guess who?”

“Hm. Charles?”

“Nope. Try again.”

Vlad chuckled. “Not Faust, of course. He only surprises me with needles or pills . . .” 

“Not Faust.” A tremulous laugh, held in.

“Some street urchin, then? Or are you a burglar? Perhaps I should struggle, hm?” He grinned, his fangs glinting in the gloom. Vlad turned, easily grabbing his hidden assailant. Her mittened hands settled on his shoulders as he brought her close for a kiss.

When he pulled back to look at her, she was smiling. “You knew it was me.”

“Of course.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Did you come to fetch me?”

She nodded. “It was getting late and I missed you.” Her eyes went to the near empty flower cart. “It looks like you had a good day.”

Vlad nodded. “The square was busy. People shopping for the holiday, or out getting things for their celebrations.” He wrapped an arm around her, pulling his lover against his side. “Did you want to have a special celebration?”

“Being with you for the day is enough for me.” She leaned into his embrace, snuggling into his side. 

“But I was here all day . . .” Vlad’s eyes opened wide. “Is that why you missed me? I shouldn’t have left you alone for the whole -”

She laughed and shook her head. “No, I knew you’d want to be here, making people smile. But now your work is done and I have you all to myself.” Her wide, beautiful eyes regarded him. 

Vlad didn’t think he would ever get used to that look. Full of love and hope and joy. He couldn’t help but smile as warmth blossomed in his chest. “Then let’s make this a special evening for just the two of us.” 

He picked up the last tiny poinsettia, the white bloom seemed to almost glow in the evening light. “I think this flower was waiting for you. See how glad it is that you are here?” 

She leaned close, her fingers almost touching the plant. “It’s so beautiful.”

Vlad tipped her chin toward him, and kissed her again. Her lips were warm and soft, and her mouth tasted of cinnamon and spice, sweet as mulled wine. She was everything to him, and he still could not believe he held her in his arms. Centuries he’d waited, wanted, ached for her. It felt like a dream, one he never wanted to wake from. A world without her was no world worth waking to.

The snow began to fall again, tiny flakes dancing on the evening mist. 

She pulled back to look up at the drifting snowflakes. “Look! It’s snowing again!” She tugged off her mitten and caught a tiny flake in the palm of her hand. “It’s like an icy bit of lace, don’t you think?” Her hand lifted to show him.

He laughed. “It is. And already starting to melt.”

“Oh no!” Her eyes widened. “I should let it go.” She waved her hand in the air to release the flake, but it held to her skin, the edges already thinning to nothing.

Only she would be worried about destroying one tiny snowflake, he thought. His silly, lovely, ridiculous girl. Vlad caught her hand and blew across it, sending the tiny snowflake skirling back into the night. Then he licked the bead of moisture from her palm, letting the tip of his tongue tickle across her skin.

She giggled and tried to pull her hand back. “Vlad! What if someone’s watching?”

“What if they are?” He kissed his way to her wrist. There he could feel the delicate tracery of her veins and vessels, the steady pulse of her kind and loving heart. “I want everyone to know how much I love you.” He nipped the spot, a promise and a tease. 

“Vlad,” she repeated, breathily this time, a heat in her gaze that could melt more than a snowflake. 

He tugged her mitten back over her hand. “Let’s go home. I want to celebrate you.” 

“Don’t you mean with me?” She picked up her flower as he began pushing the cart.

“That too.” Vlad smiled.

[nuatthebeach]

come let's walk for miles

thanks @narukoibito for giving me the prompt "don't go. stay." and just encouraging me to pop out of my shell and post again! i had so much fun writing this drabble!

title is the english translation of the song "aao milo chalein" in the bollywood movie "jab we met."

comment here on AO3.

The crisp crunch of the snow pressing against his boots is but a dim noise to his ears, easily muffled by the heavy weight of his clouded thoughts. Whimsical lights hang about the village, like fairies dancing in homes of glass, bringing life to an already lively and bustling community. Rich aromas of spices and bakery goods waft to meet his reluctantly curious nose. From a distance, he can see children holding hands, prancing in circles, books resting on the grass not far from them.

Suddenly, memories of too pristine drapery, burnt bread served in small portions, cold spaces and even colder company flash before him, and he reconciles instantly that for the person beside him who deserves a thousand shimmering lives, the one he could provide is laughably unfit.

He chooses instead to clear his throat from the overwhelming constriction building within. “Welcome home."

Harry isn't even sure she hears him until her voice reaches his ears this time, less strained but equally quiet. "Thanks. You've…we've come a long way together. I couldn't have returned home without your map and knowledge of the terrain and…well, your company."

Long way together, indeed. He starkly recalls the night they first met a month ago; he was nearly passed out at the pub, his ratty travelers’ attire dragging on the floor. In contrast, her finely stitched gown - though roughly hiked halfway up to her knees - allowed her easy passage to approach him and demand guidance back to her home. One of her many demands from him, as it would soon appear. He listened as she spoke of how a neglectful carriage had failed to pick her up while in town doing business across the country. Locals suggested that he - a troublesome albeit spatially adept traveler - could help her.

A bag of coins had clanged against the table before Harry could form the words "what's in it for me?"

Turns out, there was a reason why she was in such a rush to return home so quickly. It's the same reason why after weeks of navigating rocky territory and shady inns - all made surprisingly easy with her laughter by his side - he musters all the courage he can…

And shrugs these complicated feelings off.

"For all your talk of disliking sugar, you sure do come from a place with a lot of honey cakes." He lifts the sweet sample to his lips, sinking his teeth in appreciatively. Something to keep his mouth busy, at least.

Unfortunately, it doesn't seem to work very well. "Mmh, nice. You can really feel the corn amongst all that syrup. Good to get your vegetables in."

She sighs, her breath misting the air from his periphery.

"Honestly, I'm quite jealous." That last word chokes in his throat. "You've been stopped four times already with people offering you this. They're that excited to see you again."

"Harry - "

He can’t bloody stop himself, can he, because the next thing he knows: "I bet Dean would have this waiting for you right by the door." The intake of her breath is sharp, not so much a warning but a tense silence. "It must be in the betrothed handbook or something. 'Feed thy wife or face wrath.'"

"Very funny."

"That's why we came here, isn't it?" The reason why she was in such a rush. The reason why the ring sits on her finger, a delicate piece he caught his eyes tracing several times over the past month.

A reminder that she's not his, that she can't ever be his - he's a lonesome wolf, strings to his abusive aunt cut years ago, his proper language a residual to his pseudo-rich past. And she. Well, she's of the lifestyle of everything he left behind, of everything he hates.

So why does he not hate her?

He pauses at a nearby cart to pour himself some ale to mask his fidgeting.

"Harry."

Jaw clenching, he forces down his drink in burning gulps, really letting the seconds drag. "Ginny,” he mimics.

He hears her huff.

"So this is it, then. You're just going to keep evading my departure? Through flimsy humor?”

Pushing through the sharp pain her words evoke, Harry takes in a harsh breath. "There's nothing to evade. You're getting married. And based on everything you've yapped in my ear about so far, to a really nice man."

"Yes…but that was before - "

Smashing the remnants of the honey cake in between his fingers, more decadent and rich than anything he's had the pleasure of tasting in his meager life, he snaps in two. "What should I say, Ginny? Don't go? Stay? Maybe Dean likes to whisper sweet nothings to you, but personally, as a mere acquaintance, I - "

Her fingers tug at his arm with unsurprising strength, forcing herself into his space. His stomach can't help but lurch at how the sunset paints her hair in ways that pedestal the lush sky only second to her attention.

"An acquaintance?” Her voice falters. “Is that all I am to you? Just…more than a stranger?"

He swallows, a chill settling low in his gut. Cruelly, he delivers the blow anyway.

"With time, acquaintances become strangers too."

Sure enough, the rageful tempest that battles its way across her fierce features is nothing in comparison to the aching realization that he is breaking her heart all the same. Like his damage was decreed collateral from the start of time, he watches her pieces shatter too.

"Well," Ginny whispers, eyes glassy, voice severe. "Allow me to speed things up for us then."

Harry doesn't turn to watch her leave. If he did, he might never stop.

[pancake-breakfast]

This weekend's gonna be busy-busy, so let's see if I can't make some solid progress on the volume for the week before it comes. Besides, there's rumor of a scene of Legato pathetically eating meat coming up soon, and I'm HERE for it.

TriMax Volume 2!

Archive

Trigun Volume 1: Covers + 1-3, 3 Detailed Thoughts, 4, 4 DT, 5-6, 5-6 + DT, 6 DT, 7-8, 9-10

Trigun Volume 2: Covers + Extras, 1, 1 Supplemental Research, 2-4, 5-6, 7-8

TriMax Volume 1: Covers + 1-2, 2 DT, 3-4, 3 DT, 5-6

TriMax Volume 2: Covers + 1

Stream-of-consciousness thoughts for TriMax Vol. 2, Chapters 2-4 below.

Chapter 2: Resume Our Business

Ahahahahahahaha!!! I really shouldn't be laughing at these eating sound effects, but I am. Maybe I just like to know he's suffering.

Gods, I can't wait to see how Stampede tackles this whole mess. I'm giddy with anticipation for something that likely won't come up for 2-3 years.

Slurp it up, buddy. I can't believe Nightow let this drag on for SO MANY PAGES.

I genuinely think he's eating this way as a sort of penance. Buddy can force people to do things with his brain. He does NOT need to humiliate himself like this. But he done pissed off Knives, so his suffering must be great until he's back in his lord's graces.

They're all just watching him and being like, "Welp. Our boss has lost it."

The two of these I remember NOTHING about are Hoppered and Gray. Leonof scarred me in '98 (but that's a thing with me and puppetmaster-type characters, so....). Zazie's forgettable in '98 but a wonderful chaos creature in Stampede. I'm pretty sure Rai-Dei shows up in '98, but nothing about him stands out. And, of course, Midvalley, who has such an excellent introduction in '98.

Uhhhhh... insulting Knives in front of Legato (or even saying things that could be perceived as insults to Knives in front of Legato) isn't exactly a wise move. There are reasons I call Legato yandere.

Ooooh, this goes beyond insulting. Midvalley has balls. Probably shouldn't have hesitated, though.

Meanwhile, Legato's still like, "Omnomnomnomnom."

Yyyyyeaaaahhh, Midvalley really shouldn't have hesitated. Now he is a pretzel. Maybe Legato will be kind enough to spare him an extra iron maiden.

LOL, Legato saying this is hilarious because Knives implies Legato just made up their previous order without any input from Knives himself. Also, it's hilarious that he's still talking with food in his mouth. I know he can talk telepathically, but still.

Knives' plan sucks. I don't mean it's a bad plan. I mean it's terribly cruel.

Also, Knives' outfit is just... ridiculous here. I know he gets crap for wearing a snuggie (that's apparently made out of actual knives) in Stampede, but this is... also a lifestyle choice. I particularly like the spikes apparently through the torso there, like someone's run him through. I feel like there's a reason for that which I'm not quite grasping.

NO LEGATO IS LEGIT SPEAKING WITH HIS MOUTH FULL LOOK HE HAS THE MEAT IN HI MOUTH AND THE TEXT BUBBLE IS EVEN POINTING TO HIM FOR ONCE. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Ok, now that I just looked at it for however long it took to colorize the panel, I have to talk about the table. 'Cause I think it's notable that it starts out like this...

...and ends up like this.

Just... the contrast between how pristine and perfect it was to how much it's just a chaotic mess it's become. It was fit for a king before. Now, two of the drinks are spilled (and one is just... missing?), there are crumbs and God only knows what else EVERYWHERE, and the silverware that was laid out so carefully is just... gone. Gah, indeed.

Midvalley is taking this rather well, all things considered. I don't think I'd be as chill if I was being pretzel-ified.

Cut to: Vash eating a donut. Because Trigun.

Neither of these men are wearing helmets, which seems rather unsafe. Sand isn't that soft.

I like how Vash recognizes Wolfwood's annoyance enough to try, even though he knows he'll fail. Very Vash of him.

"Hi, I'm Vash the Stampede. I can drive the lost technology known as space ships, but motorcylces? Ohhhh, no. Count me OUT."

Wolfwood's dodginess is bringing out Vash's serious face. Gods, he's so babygirl here, though....

Wait, is this guy riding a SAND DRAGON???

Yep, that thing sure do say "Knives" on it. And what is that emerging from the dust? SOMETHING BAD, you say? Gasp! Shock!

LOL, Vash is doing his best to Japanese. Does the Japanese version of the manga specify that Rai-Dei is actually speaking in Nihongo? Or was this just kind of confusing?

Ohhh, check it out. This guy isn't even looking at Vash. He's looking at Wolfwood. I'm sure that's not significant and definitely not something Vash has already picked up on.

Vash has a lot of questions. As he should.

Wolfwood, on the other hand, presents a single and equally important one.

Man, WW knows NOTHING about his coworkers, does he?

LOL, his secret ability is roller skates. SUPER roller skates. Gods, this manga is so goofy sometimes.

Is... Vash parrying the sword with his gun??

Did Rai-Dei just parry bullets with his sword????

This whole scene is so samurai showdown. It's great. We just need Rai-Dei to start monologuing about his training and shouting out the names of his moves and we're set.

Wolfwood calling himself a bystander. LOL

Ohhhh, shit. He done told Vash they're going after his home. Now he has to deal with Angry Vash.

Actually, WW doesn't look too happy about this, either.

Why does this guy have 411 carved all over him?

So, this guy expects to die. Or has at least accepted it as a legitimate possible outcome.

Ah, there he goes talking about technique and all. And here I was afraid he wouldn't get around to it.

Ok, can we talk a bit about how he's wearing a FRINGED COWBOY VEST over his samurai gear? Seriously, this is a thing.

Chapter 3: Samurai Showdown

Wolfwood's hand going to the straps on the Punisher. He's genuinely considering interfering.

Aw, man. Rai-Dei noticed.

Geez, first this guy's like, "Vash, we're gonna go after the closest thing you have to family here." Then he's like, "I want to hunt you, Vash, because you're not human." He's definitely a master of "ways to piss off Vash quickly."

Guys, my heart is so full at WW's little inner monologue here. Especially how it stands in stark contrast to what Rai-Dei was saying on literally the previous page. He genuinely wants to help Vash. He says, "Just this once," but that's how it always starts, isn't it?

Vash is even more in tune with Wolfwood's little movements than Rai-Dei is. AND he seems to understand something fundamental about Rai-Dei. That's my babygirl. <3 <3 <3 Be safe out there, Vash.

In anime with Japanese-inspired fights, they often talk about sensing the other person's bloodlust. That makes Rai-Dei's thought here really stand out. Also, I can't get over the framing and how very samurai showdown this whole page feels.

Then, of course, the next page follows the showdown beats, having them move and the reaction shots without telling us which one hit his mark.

If anyone wants to translate "jigenzan ittou" for me, that would be hot. I can't even give it a try without the kanji.

I'm sorry, I'm not over the Super-Skates. You can put all the skulls on them you want, but they'll still be dumb.

Oh, good. I'm glad Rai-Dei actually told us what happened on the last spread. I genuinely would have never figured it out on my own.

Heh. Vash is never unarmed.

Wolfwood, you big idiot. That's not how Vash works! That's not how any of this works!!

The real question is, has Rai-Dei dodged his way through as many battles as Vash has dodged his way through?

Wait, did Vash put a grappling wire on his gun??

Yeah, Vash has had enough of your shit, sir. Time to call it quits. Maybe find some nice mountains to retire to.

Chapter 4: Wolfwood

Hmm, I WONDER what THIS chapter will be about? *cue high-pitched screeching*

I don't think it's the way of the sword specifically that's so fragile, Rai-Dei. It's more... the path of violence. Or maybe any path we're on. Blank ticket and all.

Ohhhhh, Rai-Dei saying he abandoned his humanity to be here when WW just noted in the last chapter that, while it seems like they've all become monsters, they're just humans. There's... there's something there, but I don't have the thoughts for it right now.

Attacking an enemy's back when you've already been beat? Dishonorable.

Ohhhh, shit. Yeah, dang, Wolfwood's lucky Vash only punched him. And with his flesh arm, too. This isn't gonna sit well.

Wolfwood's not taking any of Vash's crap.

Gunsword??? That's not very samurai-like, either.

This. This is Vash. This is the line the made reference to in Stampede ep. 12. As many times as he has to so he doesn't take away their chance to make a change for the better. Wolfwood doesn't get it yet. But Vash only punched him 'cause Wolfwood needs more chances, too.

Oof, this scene. I knew it was coming, but still. There's so much weight in Wolfwood's single word. He knows exactly what he's asking on multiple levels.

GoshDARNIT Wolfwood! I mean, I realize you probably don't put a lot of weight on your own life, but... you care about him this much??? *heart bursts*

Ugh, Vash's response. These boys are killing me. But it's so brave to hope, isn't it? So brave to hold out for it even in the darkest times. Vash looks so sad for Wolfwood. He calls him a coward, but there's no malice here. Only the heavy sadness and desperation of wanting better for someone on the edge.

This is Vash not wearing his masks. This is him revealing himself to Wolfwood, with all the sadness and the troubled heart and, most importantly, all the hope he still has for Wolfwood.

Crap, why's Zazie gotta show up? They're gonna spoil the mood.

LOL, "Blow-Up Hill." What a name....

PLEASE tell me that this tall and smol who just entered the bar are Meryl and Millie....

YUUUUUUSSSS!!!! Hello, girls!!!

I, too, would like a banana sundae....

A truck full of tomases (toma?)! Hooray for birds!

"Ever since he ran away, we haven't been able to get ahold of him." LOL, GIRLS. He was RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU for a bit while you were on vacation and you were like, "Pfft, I'm not getting paid for this and LET HIM GET AWAY." I mean, as someone who's worked salary jobs, I'd have done the same, but still.

This is lovely. Everything about this is lovely. This is how it's supposed to be. In this moment, everything is right with the world.

Was that a SPACE SHIP that just crashed???

Bless Meryl. Her first concern is never for her own safety. It's always for the safety of others.

Oh, I don't trust the noises.

Wait, a girl?

Wait, she knows Vash?!

Wait, this is where I have to end for the night?!?!

[demcnsinmymind]

@thatslayer sent : ❝ you have no idea what i’m capable of. ❞ | from the depths of my meme tag | from the depths of my meme tag | Always Open!

"Make that I don't care what you're capable of" it corrects her, never minding its host's few memories of what he, and thus it, has seen her do. It regards her a little closer, dwelling in all sorts of his memories, until it meets her with a knowing, barely there half smirk. Won't get any closer though, just keeps him standing right where he is. With some fair distance between them.

"Though now that I think about it, hell, who knows, you might be a first with a few things. I'm sure that would be a lot of fun to watch and experience, Faith." Now it's there after all, a flash of pristine white teeth, but it doesn't last to long, gets replaced with a little pout, a show of both his hands in the air, on the defense.

"But alas. Let's do that some other time. You've got forever now, don't you? Just like me" A flash of colorful chaos, madness, something indescribable, passing through eyes that she used to be very familiar with. Barely there, a blink almost, while the grin grows bigger, forming dimples.

"Not our dear old friend Lance though. Let's not cut that precious life any shorter than we have to now, right? Otherwise that might just make him question who the real monster is, and we just can't have that. So how about...you show me your all in...let's say, a hundred years? Fifty? No, that might be too soon. I plan for him to have a long and full filled life. So let's say, 75? I'm sure you'll have so many more tricks up your sleeve by then, and trust me when I say, I cannot wait to see them."

[lost-batarang]

'Harvey Dent - Beginnings.' (8k Characters) (BruHarvey)

Bruharvey fic I'm working on. This'll be a slow-moving fanfic, just FYI. Try and update atleast weekly, but I've had some bad personal things going on recently and might not be able to update all the time. I'll reblog it every update.- And let me know if you find any spelling errors, I try to proofread but I'm not the best at it. Also Harvey's origin of two-face is very, very different due to the fact I'm unsure of how to write his current one in a way that's not absolute garbage.

Harvey readied his tie and brushed off the dust of his pristine, brand new brown suit he bought specifically for this event. "This'd be the one to win over Gotham." He said to himself. He walked down the stairs and headed towards the door, locking it as he leaves. He leaned against the brick walls of his ageing household as he waited for his ride to arrive. He reached for a cigarette, taking a lighter and cigarette from his pocket. He smoked for a while, before his ride reached him; an old friend promised to bring him to the event. Bruce Wayne promised. Bruce Wayne didn't make it. He was 'busy' with Wayne enterprises. Again. "Bloody hell. Is this what our damn relationship means to him? He can't even show up to my major event…Bruce, you poor sod." Harv thought to himself, a depressing feeling washing over him. He got in the black, sleek newly-bought car, a gift from Bruce, and told the driver the directions to the event. Halfway to their destination, Harvey asked the driver; "Hey. Did Bruce- How was Bruce busy? Y'know, with Wayne Enterprises." He said in a disappointed tone. "Busy? Bruce is always busy. We're not told how, or why, but he's always busy; But not busy with Wayne Enterprises." Replied the driver. "Not with- Bruce…What the fuck are you doing?" Harvey spoke, turning off the intercom, cutting of conversation between him and the driver as they arrived at their destination. Harvey left the car, tossing the driver some coins as he left. The coins didn't seem to be worth much- but they were vintage, and worth much more than what they seemed. Harv heads to the backstage, readying himself for his speech to the people of Gotham. Then, he heads off to speak. "People of Gotham city. Crime has been surging, with recent reports of twisted, sick, villains like 'Joker' committing horrendous crimes all over Gotham- But I want you, my people, to know one thing; Gotham will be safe. We will protect it. We will get past this- this blight on the city. Joker will be charged for his crimes, and likely killed for them. We're Gotham's children. We've been through worse than some clown fucker terrorizing the streets in a purple suit- We'll endure this. I know we will. It is of upmost importance to me that you all are safe, and I'd be willing to die to ensure your safety. Me and Bruce Wayne- wish he could've been here, but he had important business to attend to- have partnered together to create a project to rid Gotham of homelessness. To supply the struggling citizens of Gotham with food, water, and a place to sleep safely. For once, ol' Brucie is using his wealth to do something productive, am I right? Ha, still, Wayne Enterprises has been a massive help for Gotham, and I'm happy to collaborate with Bruce Wayne. And…That's all." Harvey said, the crowd of people cheering and clapping for him as he leaves and heads backstage yet again. He feels proud. Hasn't felt that in awhile, with the little progress all his projects were actually making. Still; there's hope for Gotham, and Harv isn't gonna stop until that hope is visible to all of the city.

Harvey called a taxi and headed back to his house, unlocking his door and changing into some more comfortable clothes- a simple, plain t-shirt and some trousers. He reached for his phone, and called Bruce Wayne. It went to voicemail. "Bruce, you bloody idiot…" He said under his breath, sighing. "Hey Bruce. If you get this message- uh, voicemail, I'd like to let you know that the speech went great. Would've been great if you could've made it, but hey- being a CEO must take up alot of your time nowadays. I was thinking maybe we could hangout- go for a coffee, sometime, like we used to. After all, if we're working on a project together, we may aswell get to know eachother better.- Speaking of the projects, our partner project isn't going so well. There's been interruptions- major ones. The homelessness project is gonna have to be delayed for longer- If we could get the Joker off the streets and into the grave, we could have a real shot of saving this city, Bruce. It's just…this city makes it so damn hard to love it. But I do. We do.- Or atleast, we're trying." Harvey left the voicemail, turning off his phone and microwaving a pasta for himself. He sat at his kitchen table and ate his pasta as a cool breeze washed over him; he'd left the window open. Again. "I'll close it later." Harv said to himself. He ate his pasta, threw the plate in his sink, and crashed onto his sofa, falling asleep. He's too tired to go to his actual bed. This'll do for now.

Harvey wakes from his sofa, and immediately goes to check his phone for a response from Bruce; he reaches the messages, and…nothing. Bruce hadn't even bothered to respond. "Fucking- Ugh, Damnit Bruce!" Harvey yelled, throwing his phone aside. He holds his head for a moment, breathing deeply to calm himself. He's going to meet Bruce and find out what the fuck he's been up to, even if it kills him. Harvey puts on his suit from yesterday's event, throws on some shoes, and leaves without even doing his tie. He forgets to lock the door, heading straight to call a taxi; going to Wayne manor. He'd always show up uninvited when him and Bruce were closer. Usually by sneaking through a window. Harvey smiles slightly, thinking of those fond memories, as his taxi arrives at the manor. Harvey's smile quickly fades as he sighs and heads to the door; he knocks, but no answer is given. Not even Alfred. "Alf?…You in there? I'm here to see Bruce." Harvey says to the door in a confused tone. "Everything okay in their, Alf? Bruce?" Harvey continues, beginning to worry. "I- I'm coming in." Harvey draws his gun from his suit pocket; a necessity when you're an important figure in Gotham. He shoots the lock, blasting the door open. "Bugger-" Harv says before firing, the gunshot alerting many in the area; although in Gotham, gunshots aren't usually something you should follow, or inform anyone about. Or you might be in more trouble than it's worth. Harvey barges into the manor, holding his gun close to his side. "Bruce?…Bruce, I don't want to intrude- but well, I'm intruding." He says as he steadily walks up the manor stairs, scanning the area as he walks pass. Then, he looks at the clock near the top of the stairs; the handles are stained with blood. Harv rushes over to them without a second thought, whispering to himself as he investigates the clock handles, "Aw Bruce…you better be okay, mate." He says, worried as he moves the clock handles just enough for the clock to move and reveal a new, hidden part of the manor. "Jesus- What the fuck is this?" Harvey says as he walks through the hidden entrance, and then begins to call for Bruce; "Bruce! Bruce, you okay!?" He cries out, just as Alfred walks past with his hand over an unmasked, injured Batman. "Bat- Bruce!? Bruce, what the fuck!?" Harvey yells, running over to Bruce. "Harvey, it's not what it-" Bruce tries to say, but Harvey cuts him off; "I know what it fucking is. This is why you've been busy, isn't it? You're the damn Batman? Bruce, you could've told me- we can do so much for this city with you as the Batman! You've been stronger than the GCPD, and more effective than any of our projects- This, Bruce, this is great!-" Harvey speaks, before Bruce interrupts him, "Harvey. Please, this needs to be a secret- I can't have you involved in this. You could get killed. This is dangerous work, and I don't want you getting involved." Bruce replies, Harvey stopping for a second. "Bruce, you- This, I'm already in dangerous business, Bruce! I'll respect your wishes, but please, consider working with me. We can do so much for this dying city if you'll just listen!" He says, leaving the batcave. "But I'll respect your wishes, as a favour to an old friend." Harvey heads out of the manor, returning to his house. He collapses on the sofa yet again, and falls asleep after a couple minutes of screaming into a pillow and trying to process what happened- and what he could've said better.